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jackidy · 8 months

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FFXIVWrite Prompt 6: Ring

Pairing: HienWOL (Hien/Raina) Characters: F!Viera WOL, Male Viera OC, Lyse Hext, Hien Rijin Warnings: Stormblood spoilers, pre/post LVL 70 quest Stormblood Rating: T Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV

Summary: Freis had simply laughed at her in the teasing way he always did, clearly knowing more than her but never intending to share the joke with her, sighing contently as he remarked that she truly was an oblivious idiot.

"I won't be oblivious if you tell me."

"Oh but where's the fun in that."

[AO3]

-----

It starts with a carving of a spriggan, rough and imperfect, Raina having accepted it with enthusiastic but bemused thanks. She offers tips on how to improve, the little details missed to the encouragement of the gifter who listened with rapt attention, hanging onto every word.

Raina sits Hien down before Daffodil - the giant pet spriggan she'd had for years - talking with passion about the teeth, the gems they carry and the purpose for them. "Are you even listening?" She asks, frowning, catching the Lord of Doma looking at her instead of the subject matter.

"You have my undivided attention." She frowns, squinting at him before continuing her lecture on spriggan anatomy, now more than aware he was looking at her more than Daffodil.

The next one is better, more accurate, a gemstone held aloft in its wooden hands, large enough for her to need both hands to hold it. How long did this take him? Should he not be focusing his attention elsewhere? Hien didn't seem more tired than usual but also he'd never been busier since they'd returned from the Steppe.

She still doesn't fully grasp why he's doing this, they were already friends, weren't they? The hyur was yet to provide gifts for the other Scions, so what made her so special? It wasn't the Warrior of Light thing, was it?

Upon receiving more spriggans, ranging in sizes but never bigger than the second, she asks her brother. Freis had simply laughed at her in the teasing way he always did, clearly knowing more than her but never intending to share the joke with her, sighing contently as he remarked that she truly was an oblivious idiot.

"I won't be oblivious if you tell me."

"Oh but where's the fun in that." He laughs, coy smile on his lips, quickly stepping away as she reached to grab him. "Perhaps he just thinks of you as special."

So it was the warrior of light thing after all, Raina sighing as she looked at the collection of critters Hien had made for her. Yugiri and Gotsetsu had praised this man so much and he was simply gifting her carvings of her favourite thing as some strange hero worship.

She feels like she's wilting under the Ala Mhigan heat, the heavier aspects of her gear abandoned to the side as she kept to the shade waiting for the next order of attack to come through.

Returning to Gyr Albania had given her time to think over the Hien situation more clearly. He was a handsome man, that much was obvious, dedicated to a fault, funny and enthusiastic. The effect he has on her is confusing, she's drawn to him but the weirdness with the gifts was strange and off putting.

There's a sloshing noise, something cold pressing into her hair and it makes Raina blink, thoughts of Hien gone as she looked up to the intruder. It's Lyse, waterskin in hand looking a mix of amused and concern at whatever expression Raina was wearing.

"You'll end up with frowning tan lines if you keep that up." Lyse laughs, Raina smoothing out her face before shrugging. She's sat in the shade, she's unlikely to burn here even with skin as fair as her. "What's up?"

"Does Hien actually like me or do he just give me gifts as some weird form of hero worship warrior of light reason?"

The look on Lyse's face is one of stunned silence. Was she expecting something more related to the current state of affairs? About the mission to drive the Garlean forces out of Gyr Albania and take back Ala Mhigo?

"You're so oblivious it's painful sometimes." Lyse rests her forehead in her palm, frustration on her face before sighing and doing the breathing exercises she did to calm herself. Whatever Raina had failed to realise had been a point of frustration for the other, the viera waiting for context as Lyse seemed to internally fight with herself over something.

She finds her answer soon enough, seeming to wait until Raina was drinking before speaking her conclusion. "He's been trying to court you, Raina."

Hand shoots to her mouth to keep herself for spitting the water out, swallowing thickly as the words settled in. He was gifting her hand made carvings of her favourite thing as a show of affection. It wasn't weird hero worship. It was affection.

She can feel her cheeks burn feeling flustered by both how wrong she had been and the gesture of it all collimating into one. She's a fool. An idiot. The definition of oblivious.

No wonder her brother had looked so humoured everytime a new one was gifted, he'd known all along and was taking joy in watching her struggle to understand it.

"You are so lucky that man is so determined because anyone else would have given up by now."

Lyse is either oblivious or uncaring to Raina's inner turmoil, hands on her hips as she regarded the viera with minimal sympathy. She had to make him something back, do some form of gesture. He's spent months now doing this, never giving up despite her less than amazing responses.

Oh gods, she had criticised the first one he made.

She's absolutely mortified.

"Star to Raina, you in there?" Lyse asks after time has stretched on in pure silence, leaning to the side slightly before jumping back as the viera turns to her and yells in panic.

"I…I have to… FUCK!"

—

It's not her best effort, a mixture of limited resources and working off of memory combining together to try and make the gift before Hien returned to the east. She hadn't had much time to think of something, having already done one gesture for the other that had yet to be revealed or noticed.

The new weight on her ear was easy to get used to, tapping her foot nervously as she waited for her opportunity to present the gift gripped tightly in her hands. Curry buns shaped to look like namazu, three in total with a range of ridiculous expressions upon them. Happy, shocked and unconscious.

Present him with food, tell him to have a safe journey, say goodbye. Three steps, she just had to do three steps and she could stop being nervous about all this. What reason does she even have to be nervous? She had no reason to doubt what Lyse had said to her about it, none at all.

"Oh, Raina, I hope we'll be able to see you again in Doma soon. Hopefully under better circumstances."

She jumps, fumbling with the box of food she'd made for him before catching it, smiling nervously. Smooth. "I would like that." Raina offers at first before clearing her throat, pushing the food forward. "I made you some food for the road, you mentioned curry buns once and I thought you might enjoy them."

It's like witnessing the sun, his grin near luminous as it reached his eyes, his enthusiasm near infectious as waxed poetic about the food. He forgot himself, it seems, no longer an alliance leader but a normal mam enthusiastic about the simple gift of food.

Poll 9 9It's then he notices the earring, a small spriggan dangling from large hare ears does any hope of him regaining composure left the window.

#HienWOL #hien rijin #lyse hext #warrior of light #stormblood #STB #ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #WOL: raina kisne #WOL: freis kisne #they are idiots in love #FFXIV write 2023

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aplacetoletgo · 1 year

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Nearly a year.

Gone fucking quick.

I remember going out last year for the rugby with my mates. It's my favourite time of year. Nights are getting lighter slowly. Days getting longer and slightly brighter. Daffodils are sprouting and being sold in shops. Rugby is on and even if Wales is losing, everyone is still happy.

That night with my friends was the last night I truly was happy. No cares about anything. Nothing.

No niggling of greif always at the back of my mind, sometimes sneaking out and sometimes coming out in full force.

To look back and think that is mental. It all changed in a space of three weeks. My world absolutely flipped and hasn't gone back since and I don't think it ever will.

I look at my life and think why the fuck did I worry about such stupid little things. Little things don't matter. Not now. I wasn't worried about going to see my parents, I was worried about whether or not I could afford to go out two weekends in a row.

Silly things.

Now I just think you know what? Life is fucking short. REALLY fucking short.

I think about the people who I thought were going to be in my life forever and now aren't. And I think no matter what I do, what I say, how I act, this is always going to happen. People die. I will die. And that's it.

I want to make sure I make time for everyone in my life, my sister, my mother, my brother and all my nieces and nephews and my friends.

But it seems like it's too little too late. I didn't realise I would have such a short amount of time with the people who I always and forever wanted in my life.

I don't know. Its just fucking weird. To think ill live the rest of my life and not see my dad, no calls or texts, no lectures, no kind words, not even a comfortable silence sat next to eachother. Nothing.

Like if I live until I'm, say, 90, that's around another 70 years that I'll never hear from him. I'll never have advice, he'll never get to see me grow and live our lives together.

Shitty.

Lol anyways that was a long as fuck rambling post that probably made no fucking sense, that's how my life seems lately

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dragons-bones · 3 years

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FFXIV Write Entry #1: Delayed Gratification

Prompt: foster || Master Post || On AO3

IT BEGINS.

The Jewels and Java cafe is the brilliant brainchild of my friend @catpella and was used with permission. :3

“Again, I am so sorry,” Synnove hissed, mortified, as they walked down one of the many hallways of the Arcanists’ Guild.

“It’s perfectly all right, my love,” said Aymeric fondly, squeezing her hand. “If we miss the ferry, we can simply teleport.”

His lady sighed heavily and muttered, “But I like the ferry ride…”

He laughed and raised her hand to kiss her knuckles, and satisfaction purred in his chest at the way Synnove’s golden cheeks rosed with pleasure. Galette, in her usual position draped around her mama’s neck, didn’t bat an eye. Ivar, behind them, made a disgusted noise, followed soon after by Tyr’s annoyed elder brother huff; he ignored them, well used to Synnove’s sons’ idiosyncrasies.

It was not the first time one of their getaways had been temporarily delayed by a work-related emergency; their friends and colleagues were normally keen on ensuring the pair of them got to take vacations, but sometimes matters arose that absolutely could not be handled by anyone else. This one, thankfully, had occurred while they were still in the city and easy to reach. Very easy; they’d been merely around in the corner from Mealvann’s Gate in the Jewel and Java café, enjoying sweet treats before they planned to wander over to the ferry quay for the journey to Bloodshore and the cabin, when Thubyrgeim’s emerald carbuncle, Din, scurried in with a note from the Guildmistress.

“Oh, she’s playing dirty,” Synnove had muttered as she read the note. Din had twitched an ear in her direction, but he had clearly been in the midst of gossiping with Galette and Tyr, their noses and ears and tails moving in the way of creatures who didn’t need sound to communicate.

(Aymeric had, not for the first time, suspected that Synnove’s carbuncles’ aetheric harmonic matching capabilities were nowhere near as common as his lady implied they were. Certainly, he’d never ‘heard’ any other carbuncles speak, but he also knew Synnove’s quintet limited their direct communication to Synnove’s immediate social circle, and it would not be out of the realm of possibility that other carbuncles had similar preferences…)

Aymeric had peered over his shoulder, setting down his fork with its piece of rolanberry shortcake on his plate, and shook his head in amused exasperation at the sight of the Guildmistress’s shorthand, which was as atrocious as Synnove’s. “What seems to be the problem?”

“One of the fourth-years needs final approval for her thesis project’s spell changes,” she had said, refolding the paper, then pinching and dragging her nails along the crease to sharpen it. A chip of her bronze nail lacquer ended up left behind. “Yamomo—” the chair of the aetherophysics department, he had recognized the name immediately, “—had to ‘port out to the Range. It’s either an unscheduled detonation or one of the Squadrons fired on a part of the island they’re not supposed to, Thubyr’s writing got a bit sloppy there.”

A bit sloppy?

Pointedly ignoring his look, his lady had continued, “Solkthota’s presenting her thesis project at the next conference, and guess where that is?” Her voice had turned as dry as the Sagolii.

Aymeric had giggled even as he had fished Roksana out of her bowl of melting ice cream and absently began cleaning her face with a napkin as the white carbunclet had purred. “Does it start with ‘Radz’ and end with ‘Han,’ by chance?” he said.

“Oh, you’re good,” Synnove had said with a rueful laugh, and waved down one of the café’s waitresses to get their desserts packed to go.

Now, they approached one of the warded workrooms in the Guild’s north wing. As they did, Synnove carefully smoothed out her expression from huffy and annoyed to professional interest. For all that she did want to be vacation right now, enjoying the lazy trip around the southern coast of La Noscea to sightsee or nap or cuddle, she would never take out that frustration on one of her students.

She dropped his hand—reluctantly, though she quickly skimmed her thumb over his knuckles first—and opened the door to the workroom, stepping inside, with Aymeric following just at her heels.

The workroom was large and well-lit, the early afternoon sun streaming in through the many windows. The part they immediately walked into was a small observation area, with a setup of desks similar to a small amphitheater leading down to the main floor; this must be one of the practical demonstration workrooms, then. Two students were off to the side, a dark-skinned Highlander lad and a tiny grey elezen girl who had yet to hit her growth spurt and could have been anywhere between sixteen and twenty-one summers old. At the front of the workroom, pacing nervously, was a gangly Sea Wolf young woman, skin the color of storm clouds and hair such a shocking shade of daffodil yellow he would have thought it was dye if her eyebrows hadn’t been the same color.

All three students’ head whipped up and around when Synnove entered, and Aymeric saw the two sitting ones’ jaws drop as he took a seat at one of the other desks, Ivar and Tyr jumping into seats next to him as the twins tumbled down his arms to the desktop. The presumed Solkthota paled and stammered out, “Professor Greywolfe! You’re supposed to be on vacation—”

Synnove waved a hand and closed the short door on the partition between the observation area and the presentation area. (Briefly, as the latch on the door clicked into place, he felt the faint snap of a ward activating.) “Hadn’t left yet, Solk, and an emergency means Professor Yamo has to put the fear of the Twelve into someone,” she said absently. Her voice had gone from her usual faintly Ala Mhigan and Lominsan accented lilt into the crisp tones of a Gate arcanist on duty. “Remind me of what your thesis was covering? Professor Yamo hasn’t given me a copy yet.”

The young Sea Wolf took a deep breath and launched into a technical diatribe that almost immediately had Aymeric’s eyes glazing over. He recognized a few words and phrases—Shotamian manifold, harmonic oscillation—and knew just enough from listening to Synnove’s explanations over the years that this project didn’t seem to be carbuncle focused, but otherwise it was all Allagan to him. Instead, he made sure Amandina and Roksana hadn’t taken a page out of Galette’s playbook and hadn’t gotten into the bag of treats sitting beneath the desk at his feet, and leaned back in his seat to observe. Faintly, he could hear the other two students murmuring to one another, but about what, he was too far away to tell.

(They weren’t looking at him as they did, at least, so if he was the subject of their conversation, they at least had better manners about it than most Ishgardian nobles.)

Solkthota finished quickly, nerves clear as day on her face, and Synnove nodded, reaching up to pet Galette’s tails. “All right, no time like the present to test this.” She gestured towards one of the person-shaped targets at the end of the room. “Let’s see what this modified Ruin can do.”

The student took another breath as she unhooked her grimoire from her belt, opening it and quickly turning pages to the correct one. Solkthota removed her channeling stylus from the strap on the grimoire’s back and held it up in the air, the tip pointed towards the target, and began to cast.

The bolt of power had barely left the stylus before Synnove was roaring “DOWN!” and tackling the Sea Wolf to the floor. Aymeric grabbed the twins just as the word began to leave Synnove’s lips, and was on the floor beneath the heavy ironwood desk, the shrieking carbunclets tucked close to his chest, just as the echo of it was overtaken by the roar of an explosion. Tyr was on top of him and his little sisters as a bright light blinded him, blocking it out, but having an enormous topaz carbuncle atop him did nothing to muffle the sound or the feel of the room trying to shake apart.

The silence in the aftermath was nearly as deafening as the explosion had been.

Tyr rolled off his head, shoving past Ivar, who hung from the desk, chittering in excitement because big boom and, of course, he had watched. Aymeric crawled out after Tyr, and as he stood, the girls immediately pulled themselves up onto his shoulders and tucked into his neck, shivering. He absently stroked first Roksana, then Amandina, and hurried to the other end of the observation area to where the other students had been. As he walked, he noted that the ward on the partition was flickering oddly, like cracked glass, but the spell still held—barely.

The Highlander boy had covered his elezen classmate’s head with his torso, and she was shoving at him now, her voice muffled by his bulk, saying, “Tyon, gerroff, you’re heavy!”

Aymeric bent over to help Tyon keep his balance as he pushed himself up and crawled out from the desk. “Are you all right, you two?” he said.

Tyon rubbed at one ear, and accepted his proffered hand to get to his feet. “Ears’re ringing,” he said while also blinking rapidly. His tiny classmate popped up next to him, patting her dark blue hair back into place and scowling faintly.

Synnove, meanwhile, was lowering her arm; the right one, upon which she wore the ring denoting her as a master arcanist. The glimmer of a shield fell away as she did, and then she was standing upright and helping Solkthota to her feet. Galette’s ears were pinned back and her nose was twitching, but otherwise she seemed utterly unperturbed.

“I am so, so sorry,” the Sea Wolf was saying, her whole body shaking and her eyes wide with mixed shock and horror. “I know I did the math right, I know I did—”

“Honey, take a deep breath,” Synnove interrupted, hands on Solkthota’s shoulders and her voice firm as she looked up at the young woman. “In for seven, and hold, hold, hold, little more, and now out for seven. That’s it. And again…”

As Synnove calmed her student, Aymeric and the other two began righting chairs and wiping plaster dust from the tops of the desk. Tyr came over to headbutt Tyon’s thigh, and the Highlander gave his head a firm rub; as he did, an emerald carbuncle that appeared more vulpine than the standard manifested, yipped what was likely a hello, and then went to sit on the elezen girl’s foot. She immediately bent down and scooped the creature into her arms, tickling under its chin.

Soon enough, Solkthota’s breathing was under control, and Synnove gave her a grin. “There we are. Now, what’s the first rule of science?”

Solkthota’s answering grin was shy and watery. “It’s not science until you write it down.”

“Very good,” said Synnove, her green eyes glittering. “So let’s do that first. Next, we’re going to go through your arrays page by page; your working theory is sound, but the math fell through at some point.” She suddenly pointed towards the young elezen, without looking. “And no helping her, Atreanne!”

“Oh, come on, Professor G!” Atreanne said in a high, nasally whine. Her carbuncle added its own whine as emphasis. “I’m the best at it!”

“And Solkthota will learn better if you don’t feed her the answers,” Synnove said, her voice wry in the way of someone who had. “But you and Tyon are welcome to stay and observe, both of your physics work could do with some polishing.”

Tyon and Atreanne exchanged looks, wide-eyed, and then bolted for the partition.

“I’m glad now it wasn’t Professor Y today,” Aymeric heard Atreanne whisper to Tyon. “Professor G’s way more patient with screw-ups.”

“Professor G likes screw-ups,” Tyon whispered back. “They’re more fun, she says.”

“They are more fun, now hop to it, kids!”

Solkthota was dragging over the desk that had been pushed up against a wall, and Tyon and Atreanne grabbed chairs from the observation to bring over and sit with their classmate and teacher. Synnove, meanwhile, looked at Aymeric as she walked backwards towards the slate chalkboard.

“Can you get me some fresh chalk?” she said, a rueful grin on her face.

Aymeric laughed and gave her a sweeping bow, the twins peeping excitedly as they held on. He righted them as he straightened, and turned to head to where he knew one of the storage rooms were.

It was a good thing he had remembered to pack a few books to read.

#ffxivwrite2021 #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #aymeric de borel #aymeric x wol #aymeric x synnove #oc: synnove greywolfe #synnove's carbuncles #dt's writing

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make-me-imagine · 3 years

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Red Roses: “I Love You” - Wanda Maximoff Ending

Valentines Special: Day Nine

Day One: Morning Glories // Day Two: Blue Salvias Day Three: Sunflowers // Day Four: Pink Camellias Day Five: Yellow Tulips // Day Six: Violets Day Seven: Lisianthus // Day Eight: Daffodils (Post with rest of the character endings)

Plot: It’s finally Valentines Day, the day the reader will finally learn who it is that had been leaving them flowers and notes expressing their secret feelings.

Pairing: Gen!Neutral Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Triggers: None Words: 1,503

Requested Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney, @thebookbakery, @fablesrose, @kitkatd7, @thefallenbibliophilequote, @beksib, @destynelseclipsa, @criminaly-supernatural, @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet, @belloangelus, @snarky--starky, @saintbootlegloras, @wecallhimbrowneyess, @empath-bunny, @okkulta, @katinthemoon, @ravennight41, @youcancallme-rae , @radhumandragonclam, @unfortunateidiotinadilemma, @past3l-w1ngs , @goinggoinggonzo, @mxxnmocha, @theofficialzivadavid, @lilix1989, @normanijauregui, @euphouriaszn2, @slut-for-nat , @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all (still couldn’t tag, sorry) , @supersourlemon13, @messhup

February 14th

You woke up late in the morning, having had a restless nights sleep most of the night. As you groggily opened up your eyes and stretched, you turned to look at your clock, seeing it was nearly 11am. You sighed before grabbing your phone, seeing a missed text from Steve a few hours prior asking if you wanted to go for a run with him and Bucky. Replying with an apology and that you slept in, you rolled back over, your eyes landing on the daffodils on the table.

Remembering that you had woken up lying at the end of your bed before crawling back in, you reached over on your desk and grabbed the note you had set their last night. You read over it again before “New beginnings” you mumble to yourself before sighing and sitting up.

Eventually, you had gotten out of bed, brushed your teeth and got dressed before wondering out of your room, planning on going on a walk. You just wanted to get out of the tower honestly. You needed to think things over again.

You managed to leave the tower without running into any of the others before you began wandering towards a nearby park, headphones in and favorite music playing. You began to think of the possibilities again. Over the last week, you found yourself watching the others more closely. The way Natasha and Bruce had been acting around each other, you figured it was neither of them leaving you the notes. And you doubted it was Tony or Clint, and it certainly wasn’t Loki.

So that leaves Steve, Bucky, Vision, Thor and Wanda. Steve and Bucky had always been kind to you, you were definitely close to both of them. The more you thought about them, the less you could see yourself in a relationship with them. And Vision was nearly impossible to figure out entirely.

And then there was Wanda. Ever since you met her and Pietro in your fight against Ultron, you had a bond. She felt comfortable around you, and you had never been afraid of her. You made sure she knew she wasn’t alone, and helped her mourn her brother. You spent a lot of your time together, and you had recently become more confused about your feelings towards her.

You liked her much more than you did anyone else. If you were a teenager, you’d call it a crush. But could she ever feel the same for you? Just like Vision, she was good at hiding her emotions. And you were, you think, very good at hiding how you felt. And you trusted her to never use her abilities on you without your permission anyways, she had made a promise to you as well, though you did not ask her too. It was her own way of expressing you could trust her.

Sitting down on a bench and staring out at the park, and the people wandering around, you thought more about Wanda and the way she was around you. Thinking of all the small interactions, some of which could be seen as a bit more intimate than others. You began to feel a small sense of hope towards who would admit their feelings to you tonight.

- - -

You had spent most of your day wandering around the city before heading back to the tower a few hours before the party would begin. You had been avoiding talking to the others, rarely texting them throughout the day. So when you arrived back at the tower, you were not really surprised when Natasha and Clint found you before you made it all the way to your room.

“Is something up? You don’t usually avoid us this much.” Natasha began as you were stopped in the hallway before the elevator.

You sighed as you leaned against the wall “I’ve just been preoccupied, I’m fine I promise.”

“This is about the flowers isn’t it?” Clint asked.

You nodded and Natasha smiled apologetically “Y/n, you really don’t need to be so concerned, I’m sure that if you really can’t see yourself being with whoever it is, they’ll understand. We are all way to close to hold that type of grudge, or let something like this stand between us.”

“You haven’t read the notes Nat. There’s much more at stake than you understand. But, I do hope you’re right.” you said with a sense of unease.

After they tried to console you a bit more, you left to go back to your room. Taking a long shower, and slowly getting ready, you sat around distracting yourself before the party. You had gone back and forth in your mind, part of you trying to convince yourself to not go down at all. Maybe they would come find you if they really wanted. But eventually deciding against this, you convinced yourself to go up to the party.

The party was crowded and loud, made up of a cacophony of laughter, conversation, and music. You spent a while hanging out with Natasha, Clint, Bruce and Wanda before you snuck off when you all joined the others and groups of guests.

You thought you had not been noticed, when you found a quiet separate room, closed off from guests. You had begun to feel a bit overwhelmed and needed to take a breather away from everyone. Staring out of the large window out at the bright city, as you began to relax.

Hearing the door creak open, you looked over to see Wanda peak her head in. Her eyes meeting yours as she gave you a cautious smile “Are you alright? I saw you sneak off.”

You smiled politely at her, with little emotion “I’m okay, just started to feel a bit overwhelmed.”

“So, is this a bad time?”

“For what?” you asked with a questioning face.

Stepping fully into the room, she lifted up a small bouquet of red roses “To give you these?” she asked cautiously, cocking her head sideways slightly as she watched you.

Your eyes whipped back and fourth from the roses to Wanda before you found your voice again “Uh, wh- did...uh, did someone give you those to give to me...Or..?”

She smiled as she began walking towards you “No one gave them to me.”

You met her eyes “Then...you?”

She nodded her head once “Yes. Me.” she smiled. Walking the rest of the way up to you she handed you the flowers, which you took cautiously as you looked between them and Wanda.

“I....” you chuckled at your own speechlessness “I just...really thought that you uh, I mean, I thought I was the only one...”

Her smile widened at your stuttering admission before she reached out and placed her hands over yours sending a sense of ease over you. “I didn’t really mean too. But, a few weeks ago, I was feeling, overwhelmed myself, about how I found my feelings changing for you. And one day, when we were together, I couldn’t help but...search a bit, just to see.” she looked at you with guilt on her face “I’m sorry, I know I promised I wouldn’t-”

“It’s alright Wanda” you cut her off, assuring her “That actually makes it a lot easier” you chuckled, which made her smile with relief and amusement. “So, that whole, scavenger hunt you joked about a while ago, to find who was leaving the flowers was just a ploy to distract me from thinking it was you?”

She cocked her head to the side with a smile “Maybe.”

You realized that this now made sense, that day when you found no one in the hallway when you heard them, she had used her magic. “Did anybody else know?” you asked curiously.

She shook her head “I mean, both Tony and Steve knew about how I felt about you, so maybe they figured it was me. But I never told anyone. But I did hear Bucky mentioning something to Steve about you..pressing the flowers?” her smile widened “Did you really?”

You felt heat rise up the back of you neck as you smiled “Maybe.”

She laughed before she took another step closer, pressing her forehead against yours as she stared into your eyes, “I’m very glad that you liked the flowers so much, and I hope you are alright with the things that I said.”

“I’m more than alright with them Wanda. I loved them. And I...” you hesitated, wondering if you should say what you were truly feeling. But maybe it was too soon? Though, the roses. They were the first flowers you had received that you already knew the meaning of. So, was this Wanda’s own way of confessing...of telling you?

“I know.” she said “Me too.” she replied, answering your unspoken question.

You smiled widely at each other before leaning in together and meeting in a kiss. A feeling of ease and happiness ran through you as your mind was silenced. There was no more anxiety or busy thoughts, just peace, acceptance, and happiness.

xx xx xx xx xx

This is the last ending being posted for this event. So I hope you all liked them!!

If you did like this, please consider reblogging it, and maybe check out the other endings as well!~

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calumscalm · 4 years

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tell me about Calum's love language of quality time 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

this took me eons because... yeah. this is literally just fluff. ++ come talk to me about what you think calum & the boys’ love languages are! i might just write about it. xoxoxo thanks for validating me iz (and @dukehoods and @akafeliznavidaddy because otherwise i wouldn’t be posting this lmao)

***

The incessant buzz of the phone on his bedside table is what wakes Calum up for the day. Groaning as he stretches, he reaches for it lazily, bleary eyes peeking at your name on the screen.

“Hello?” he mumbles, voice gruff in the light of the ten o’clock sun.

You chirp a good morning at the sound of your best friend’s voice until you note the tired rasp in it. Shit. Abort mission.

“M’sorry I woke you up—”

“—Morning, love. You good?”

Your words run into each other, his usual pet name for you making your heart flutter. Shake it off.

“Uh- sorry. Yeah. I texted you earlier, but you should go back to bed.”

“Too late.” he insists. The sound of your voice and the prospect of spending time with you puts a smile on his face. C-Swizzle. lemme know if you’re free today, the text had read.

For you? Always.

The next couple of hours find you all over the city. Your first stop is a small Thai cafe, one of your recent favourite finds. You catch up over sips of your rosehip lemonade blend and stolen taste tests of Calum’s pa thong ko, failing to hold in your laughs when you correct his pronunciation of the breakfast pastry.

Your next destination is an accidental discovery, a breathtakingly pretty park coloured with daffodils and buttercups, handfuls of cherry trees in bloom providing shade.

It’s instinctual, the way you both meet each others’ gazes and agree: there was nothing else to do but have a picnic. Before you know it, you’re at a Whole Foods acting a fool with your favourite person in the world. He carts you around begrudgingly, a consequence of being a sore rock paper scissors loser. Calum doesn’t even try to hide his snickers at the dirty looks you’re getting from the older patrons in the store. You swear to pick the most expensive cheeses, organic fruit, and wine, threaten to leave all the costs of the purchase to him. But all the words die in your throat when his eyes, devoid of banter, meet yours and he says, “If you ask for it, it’s yours.”

It’s all you can do to stop yourself from leaning up to just kiss him, dammit. You shouldn’t be thinking-no, wishing- that it was his heart he was talking about. Yours was in his hands already, anyway. You settle with shoving him in the chest, a sarcastic remark on your lips.

“I missed your voice,” he later confesses sheepishly, the two of you huddled together, holding on to the grab-handles on the subway back from your picnic haul. You hope the face you’re making comes across as teasing; you pray it’s more convincing than the childish thudding in your chest at his admission. “Could’ve just Facetimed, yeah? Asked me for voice notes.” you poke at him. The faux pout that makes its way onto his face is more endearing than you’d like to admit.

“S’not the same as hearing it in person, is it?” he points out. All you can do is smile in response. It’s not the same.

“Means more when we’re together.” he adds, voice almost swallowed by the roar of the train on the track. You hear it though, deciding to tuck it away for later. Words like that were better to pine over in the solace and solitude of your bedroom.

Later, you’re lying on the picnic blanket, basking in the relaxing aftermath of your impromptu charcuterie. Calum is up against the cherry tree. You’re listening to his insistent argument on the validity of his ‘dessert’: a pint of mint cookies and creme- who does that? Before you can protest, he’s shoving his spoon in your face.

“Taste it.”

***

It only takes Calum a millisecond to digest the position you’re in. He doesn’t mean to, but his impassioned case over the merit of his ice cream has him hovering over your lying figure, blocking your view of the slowly-setting sun.

But oh, how much better the world looks from here.

He tries not to focus on your mouth while he watches for your reaction to his current favourite flavour.

“Fine. It’s good. Really good, actually,” you grumble.

He knows what you’ll ask before you do, so he simply concedes, self-satisfied smirk and all. “Yes, you can have the rest of it.”

You tell him to shut up, Cal, but an airy laugh escapes you anyway. Just then, Calum thinks to himself that he’d quite like to lean forward, chase the grin on your lips- kiss them, ice cream be damned. Instead, he gets out of your way so you can both sit up against the tree.

He accepts the lazy way you smoosh the side of his face in silent protest of his still smug expression. As far as he’s concerned, he could spend the rest of the day watching you bathed in the tangerine glow of the sunset, eating his ice cream. Easily.

Calum isn’t even sure when things started feeling… like this. But spending time with you always made him happy. Being able to give and get each other’s undivided attention- it made the time you spent with each other feel like a privilege. If he’s being honest, it is a privilege.

Listening to you and being heard by you, even in silence. Pushing your boundaries, being pushed himself. Being privy to your dark humor (that sometimes has him creasing- the way his brothers make him laugh). Making you laugh. God, making you laugh. He’s not ashamed to say that he wants more of it. What’s it that Matt Healy said? He wanted to be your friend and kiss your neck.

All he knew was that he wasn’t ready for the day to end here.

So when you turn to him and ask him cheekily if he has a little more time in his schedule for some Wall-E and a bit more of his ‘hippie ice-cream’, his reply is instant, easy.

“For you? Always.”

#calum hood #calum 5 seconds of summer #calum hood imagine #calum hood fluff #calumscalm writes

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themangledsans0508 · 4 years

Text

Pick-up Lines

My friend @traumatatic has given me permission to write another story based on their wonderful comics, check them out!: https://traumatatic.tumblr.com/post/170904809853/happy-valentines-2018-boiiiiii-pick-up-lines-are

Tweek waited outside Craig’s house. The sun was just rising over the mountains, bathing the land in a gentle light. He frequently looked over his shoulder out of habit. The bird’s songs comforted him slightly, helping him keep a grip on reality. He focused on the bird’s serenade, so much so that he failed to hear a door open behind him.

He tried to identify the birds. Chickadee, Blue Jay, Robin-

“Help!” Craig’s voice snapped Tweek out of his thought train. His head whipped around in a panic, looking for the threat. All he saw was Craig standing with a smirk on his face. He took a few steps towards him before turning dramatically and falling.

Tweek instinctively moved to catch him, one of his arms hooking around his shoulder and the other around his waist. His eyes filled with concern. He opened his mouth to talk.

“I’ve fallen for you and I can’t get up.” Craig’s eyes smiled at him, unlike Tweek’s own unamused ones. He frowned at him.

“Craig, you scared the shit out of me. I thought something was wrong” he scolded. Craig’s smile never faltered.

“You forgive me, don’t you?” Tweek sighed.

“Yes, of course I do. Now get up before I drop you,” he half-joked. Craig straightened up, moving his arm to be around Tweek’s shoulders.

“Fine then, let’s get going before we’re late for school.” He started walking, Tweek falling into step with him quickly.

Tweek didn’t exactly know why he felt safer at Craig’s house than he did his own, but it was a feeling he enjoyed. Sitting next to his partner, watching Red Racer as Craig flipped through images on his camera’s memory card.

Click, click, click.

A steady sound. Tweek wondered just how many pictures Craig had on that card. It was a lot, and he was fairly sure after watching him tab through a fair amount that a lot of them were of him, and of those were taken while he wasn’t paying attention.

Craig’s eyes darted from the camera to him. He smiled and leaned towards him.

“Are you a camera?” he patted the aforementioned object that was hanging off a strap around his neck. He rested his elbow on the armrest beside him, his eyes focusing on the wall over there.

His photo collection decorated the wall. Six pictures, his favourites he had taken. One was a close up of stripe, his eyes full of curiosity as he approached, all captured in a single frame. Another of his family, his mother and father smiling while Trica and Craig frowned. He was sure that if it hadn’t been Craig’s picture they would all be frowning just because that was their family and they all seldom smiled.

Well, he used to rarely smile. Now he smiled often, or at least often in the time he spent with Tweek. That of course, was the time they spent together, which almost always made him happy.

The last four pictures all had something in common. Tweek was in all four, One by himself, where he was laughing and smiling. He remembered when Craig took that picture. They had been sitting in the park, babysitting Trica and Craig refused to stop cracking jokes. Tweek now figured it was not just because he was feeling silly, but because he wanted to capture Tweek’s laugh in a photo. He had to respect his determination, seeing as Tweek was normally rather camera shy.

Two more were of the pair together, both smiling, and quite frankly looking like an old married couple. In one they were looking forward and actually holding hands off-camera. In the other, their foreheads were pressed together, Tweek’s eye’s closed while Craig’s were open.

The last one was of Tweek and Trica because Craig wanted to capture “the sweet and the sour” and Trica had only agreed because she “wanted to be able to prove that she had known her future brother-in-law when they were kids,” which had gotten her whacked upside the head by Craig.

Tweek inspected the pictures, trying to see what on Earth Craig could be talking about. He couldn’t see anything that he would have in common with a photo collection.

“Argh- what?”

“Because every time I look at you,” he waved his hand towards the collection, “I smile.” Tweek’s cheeks flushed and he put a hand to his cheek.

“Craig, come on, you’re such a dork,” he giggled.

“You love it.”

Tweek’s fingers gracefully moved on the cool smooth keys as he played out a melody. His eyes remained glued on the sheet music in front of him that he had written. He didn’t have long to practice, the talent show was only a few hours away.

Craig, who was supposed to be helping, was doing quite the opposite. He kept tapping the piano, throwing off Tweek’s rhythm. That wasn’t it either, he had draped himself over the back of the piano with his hand hanging over Tweek’s papers. He had quoted three Shakespeare lines over and over and tried to convince Tweek to “paint him like one of his French Craigs,” for whatever that meant.

When those didn’t work, he instead opted to sit next to him and pull him into his lap, then to pepper kisses all over his face and neck. His hair tickled Tweek and he had to put all his effort into focusing on the piano and not on his beloved boyfriend.

Craig finally elected to simply lean against the piano and watch in silence.

For about five minutes.

Then he got that mischievous glint in his eyes, the one that Tweek knew meant he was in trouble.

“I hope it’s no tremble,” he said, “but I’d like to be with you.”

Tweek’s hands flew to the sides of his head and he groaned, slamming his elbows on the keys making a loud clash of sour notes.

“Flirting can wait. The talent show is- nggh- in a few hours Craig!” Tweek scolded. Craig shrugged.

“You’re too pretty. I can’t help myself.” Tweek sighed, defeated.

“Later, loverboy. I have to make up for last time’s show.”

Tweek worked smoothly and efficiently, carefully cutting the carrot under his hand into even slices. His typical shaking gone for the time being, which he was thankful for under the circumstances. He was going to have to cut them even smaller later, but not yet.

Craig was right next to him, stirring the batter for their carrot cake. The coffee shop needed more desserts and Craig had refused to let Tweek make them all by himself. He wasn’t all that into baking, but he was into anything if he did it with Tweek.

Well, that’s what Clyde told Tweek. Craig simply said he didn’t feel like going home yet.

Tweek could sense Craig getting bored, mostly by the fact that he kept hitting their bodies together in between Tweek’s chops. He was very touchy, which Tweek would have never guessed before.

He wasn’t complaining though.

Craig stopped stirring and if Tweek hadn’t been paying attention to his actions he would have caught Craig staring at him. He hit his spoon to the bottom of the mix, watching the batter push out of the way. He glanced at Tweek again and saw him about halfway done a carrot, and on the upswing of the latest slice. He playfully pressed his body against him.

“If you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber.” He flipped his spoon back, flinging some of the batter at the wall.

“Craig, stop,” Tweek giggled. He couldn’t even pretend to be mad. He liked when Craig showed affection, and the fact he was the only person who got to see this side of him.

“I can’t. I have zero impulse control. And even if I did, I wouldn’t want to.”

“It’s right up here,” Craig pointed out, basically dragging Tweek up the mountain. Dusk was setting on their sleepy mountain town on the favourite day of February. Craig had refused to say much about the valentines day surprise, only that it would be special. Now they were climbing up a hill near Stark’s pond, Tweek wearing a backpack and Craig scrambling like a goat.

Tweek’s bag wasn’t heavy, but hiking in a sweatshirt instead of his favorite button-up was kind of restricting, and he was sweating too. Craig was wearing his usual outfit but didn’t seem to be hot at all, maybe cold with how fast he was moving.

Craig finally stopped on a ridge, taking Tweek’s hand and helping him up.

“Here it is.” Craig folded his hands behind his back, looking rather sheepish like he was afraid Tweek wouldn’t like the scene before him.

There was a teal blanket spread out on the ground, with another aquamarine blanket off to the side, presumably in case it got colder than it already was. In the centre was a bundle of roses.

Tweek took a few steps forward, reaching out and gently grabbing the red flowers.

“So, um, do you like it? I mean, I’m not good at this whole dating thing.” Craig rubbed the back of his head, shuffling his feet. Tweek shook his head.

“No, no. Craig, I love it,” Tweek murmured, kneeling down onto the soft fabric. He motioned for Craig to sit next to him, who readily complied. Tweek took his bag off his back and pulled out a bouquet of daffodils, handing them over to Craig.

“I wanted to get you something since I knew you’d get me something. You did last year and the year before. But I knew you didn’t really want anything so I just got you flowers. If you don’t like them I can return them-”

“Tweek, they’re perfect.” Craig kissed his forehead. They sat for hours, talking about things that made them laugh. They watched the sky melt from blue to intertwining shades of red, pink, and purple and saw the flurry of stars litter the sky along with the thin smile of the crescent moon.

Craig leaned back slightly. One of his arms crossed behind Tweek’s while he brought his attention to the stars.

“Right there you can see the big dipper right next to Polaris and the little dipper connected to it.”

“Polaris?”

“The North Star,” Craig explained, “They’re part of bigger constellations that are a lot harder to see. Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, which actually translate directly from Latin as greater bear and lesser bear. They’re part of the Greek myth about Callisto and her son Arcas. We’ll probably learn about it in school soon.”

“How much do you know about space?” Tweek asked.

“More than any teacher at our school,” he boasted. Tweek rolled his eyes.

“Maybe you should teach instead.”

“Trust me, if I could this town we be a hundred times smarter.” Craig pointed up to another pair of constellations. “Right there to the right of Polaris are Cassiopeia and Cepheus, king and queen respectively. Another long Greek story, I can tell you it sometime if you’d like, just not right now. There are other big constellations I want to show you right now though.”

“I’d love to hear it sometime. Maybe another night out like this.” Craig blushed slightly.

“You’re very eager. Definitely a night sometime soon. Okay, back on track. Right there weaving between the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper is Draco, which means the dragon or literally the long serpent in Latin-”

“You know a lot of Latin.”

“Only when it has to do with space. Anyway, Draco is made up of Thuban, Rastaban, and Eltanin.” Craig noticed Tweek’s slightly confused look.

“More stars. It has like, three or four myths about it. If we turn around there should be about five more constellations.” Craig laid on his back, looking behind them. “There’s Orion, the hunter. He’s easy to tell from the three bright stars on his belt. He’s up above Sirius, and the right side of his tunic is marked by Rigel and his shoulder is Betelgeuse. He was a great hunter in Greek mythology, son a Poseidon. Then he got stung by a scorpion and fucking died.” Tweek laughed.

“Wow, that’s sad.”

“I know, right? The lesson is he got killed by a scorpion because he boasted too much but there’s debate about that.”

“Scientists and Astronomers are obsessed with Greek mythology. Even you,” Tweek teased. Craig felt his cheeks heat up.

“Well, it’s cool. And I didn’t name all the stars.” Craig tugged Tweek down next to him so that he would see the view from Craig’s angle.

“How much Greek mythology do you know?” Tweek questioned.

“A lot I guess. Here’s another. Right there connected to Sirius is Canis Major and then to the left and up from that one is Canis Minor, and they were said to have been Orion’s loyal dogs, which is why the three connect almost in a triangle. The Pleadieds are over there, they’re the seven daughters of a nymph Pleione and the Titan Atlas. The last constellation that’s easy to see this time of year is Gemini, the twins, east of Orion’s belt. Their names are Castor and Pollux, which are also the names of the stars that make up their heads. They were said to be twin brothers and one was the son of Zeus but not the other? I don’t know how that works. But during the Trojan war, Castor was killed and Pollux begged his dad to take away his immortality so he could be with his brother and instead Zeus made them constellations.”

“That’s really sweet, actually. Brothers that were best friends. You and Trica could learn a thing or two from them.” Craig clicked his tongue as Tweek giggled quietly.

“Nah, I’d rather be put in the sky with you. Fuck Trica.” Craig pushed himself up to appreciate the swirling dance of the cosmos. Tweek copied his movements, his gaze following Craig’s.

“We have to do this again sometime. It’s beautiful and peaceful,” Tweek breathed, taking in the smell of the outdoors. Craig nodded in agreement.

“If I had a star for every time you brightened my day,” Craig reached his hand up in what looked like an attempt to grab the stars “I’d be holding a galaxy.”

Tweek used one hand to grab Craig’s and his other to pull the strings on Craig’s chullo hat towards him. He cupped Craig’s cheek with one hand and gently kissed him.

“I’m already holding a galaxy.”

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valeptraglia · 4 years

Text

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Battle of Calormen

(All rights to C. S. Lewis)

Chapter 5: "A warm breeze and a poisoned edge"

The next morning I woke up early. A thin line of sunshine entered through the small opening between the two curtains and right in my face. I blinked a few times to accustom to it and tried to cover my eyes with my hand and pillow hopelessly. I finally gave up and sit up leaning on my elbow looking at the window with a grimace. The light coming from it was orange so that meant in was early in the morning, or maybe late in the evening?

I stood up and walked over the window, when I reached it I could see dust floating through the light. I slowly opened the curtains and a beautiful view greeted me.

As I opened the balcony doors delicious fragrances from the flowers below in the garden hit me; roses, lilies, daisies, jasmines, daffodils, iris, marigolds, gerberas, orchids, and many others I didn't even know their names. Mum used to make me help her with her little garden, and she would point a flower and said its name and how to take care of it, after a while doing this the names just stayed in my head.

Also there were beautiful trees in which under their brunches you could see dryads sleeping heavily, caressing their trees in a motherly way or brushing their hair. But what caught my attention were the big apple trees near the stone walls in the orchard. I smile broadly remembering the day the moles planted them and said some day we would be grateful planting them, something I really doubt at the moment, funny how things turned out. Years later I found myself eating hungrily the delicious apples in order to not die from hunger.

Further on I could see and hear the waves crashing lightly against the stone of the cliffs. Home.

Once I dressed and washed my face I got out of my room and walked through the deserted hallways.

I walked through several rooms, some were locked, and some leaded to different studies.

One leaded to a circular room, on its walls hang some paintings of the forests and mountains of Narnia, of dancing fauns and nymphs, of the dryads and their trees, of glorious armies, of men and creatures all like equals, of old Kings and Queens, including some of me, Peter, Susan, Lucy and Caspian; of the wasteland of the lantern, and the most beautiful painting of the Great Lion, Aslan. He looked magnificent with his golden mane and wise gaze.

I looked at his painting intently as I remembered the first time I met him, I could still hear his valuable words ringing in my ears, words I would never forget.

I remembered all the times he sent us here, to Narnia. The first one to saved it from the White Witch, the second one to return freedom and the reign to the right person, Caspian; then to help Caspian to find the lost lords, next he sent Eustace and Jill to save Rilian; and now he sends us here along with two more strangers to help Narnia against the calormens when we shouldn't be here, nor me, nor my brother and sisters, we weren't supposed to come back.

I sight in frustration and turned to leave the room when I felt a warm breeze. I turned quickly. I was sure I hadn't seen any windows in this room. I looked around carefully and sure enough there weren't any windows.

Then my gaze set on the Great Lion's painting. I couldn't look away or move my feet, I was like glued to the floor. I looked deeply in those wise eyes and I was sure he was holding my gaze. A twinkle shone on his painted eyes.

Carefully I touched the painting. "we are going to help them. Narnia won't fall. We won't fail these people. I won't fail you" I promised. Then I stood there in shock. The lion in the painting shook his mane and open his mouth his breath hit me right in the face. I closed my eyes tight and opened them again. The twinkle in its eyes was gone and the painting was still again but I was sure it had happened.

I left the room feeling light.

Soon I found the library in the east wing of the castle, on the third floor, it was huge, shelves covered in books decorated the walls, some coffee tables, desks, chairs and comfortable armchairs were spread across the room in between shelves or in front of the fireplace. A chess game was placed in one of the coffee tables. This would be one of the places I'll visit the most.

As I left the library I saw King Erasmus coming through the hallway. His faced was twitched with concern and a frown; he appeared to be thinking hard. Dark circles under his eyes. But as he raised his head and saw me he smiled broadly, like a father with his child.

"Edmund!" he said surprised giving me a clap on the back, "Good morning! What are you doing so early?"

"Just walking" I answered with a smile of my one and shrugging my shoulders. "Sleepless night?"

"Yes, I guess you could say so" he said with a tired voice.

We resume walking down the hall. I saw Erasmus was scratching his chin deep in thought and I started getting curious of his attitude.

"Is everything alright?" I asked him.

"What?" he looked quite surprised by my question.

"I meant, if everything is alright, did something happen? You have that serious face…"

"Oh! Yes, well, too much to process. So much I am trying to understand through the last few months. I am just worried" he looked at me warily and I nodded my head knowingly. He continue "And then there's the prisoner, a healer was with him yesterday taking care of his wound, but he is reluctant to talk, Diácano was with him the whole night but still no progress unfortunately"

I nodded my head in understanding. We kept walking in silence for a while.

"Do you think he will talk?" he asked suddenly.

"I don't know. But we will figure this all out" I said sincerely.

He sighed and then smile to me. "Today I'd like to have a council with you and your siblings. I wish for your advice, to be honest I feel kind of lost here." He looked at me hopefully and then quickly added "If it's alright with you, of course, I don't want to pressure you, I know it's been a little too much since you came back"

"By all means, yes, don't worry, we will meet you at the council. We are glad to be helping you." I reassure him.

Erasmus gave me half-smile and we kept walking making small conversation. He showed me around the "new" Cair Paravel, the royal chambers were at the east wing, while the guest's chambers were on the west wing, all chambers were on the second floor while the paintings room, library, council room, the King's studio and other sparcing rooms were on the first floor. The kitchens, the thrones' hall, and the dining room were on ground floor.

"Fancy some breakfast?" asked Erasmus gesturing to the dining room.

"Do you have to ask?" I replied with a smirk.

We greeted the fauns posted at the doors and walked past them into the dining room. As we entered Erasmus opened his arms wide and jovially spoke to someone. "Good morning Anne! You sure are an early bird"

A young lady was seated at the table, already with a cup between her fingers. She looked up and gave him a small smile. I observed her quietly until I realized, she had taken care of my arm the night before on the infirmary.

"Dear, may I introduce to King Edmund?"

I stepped forward and offered her my hand to shake, she took it with hesitation.

"A pleasure to formally meet you, your Maj-"

"Edmund, just Edmund" I corrected her. "And it is a pleasure to meet you too Anne"

"How's your arm?" she asked pointing at my bandaged arm.

"It's great actually, it doesn't even hurt that much. Thank you" Really, the wound was excellent, the inflammation was gone and the pain was barely there.

"Anne has a unique talent for herbs. She's been taught by the centaurs themselves" he was looking fondly at her, like a proud father. She blushed and dismissed him with a hand movement.

"Well, that's quite impressive. Centaurs don't teach just anyone" I told her sincerely. Centaurs are rather misgiving with their knowledge.

"Told you" said Erasmus with a pointed look "well, let's have breakfast, shall we? A long day is ahead of us".

A short time after Queen Calantha made an entrance and soon one by one the rest came down to share a very fresh breakfast.

"As I was telling earlier to Edmund" Erasmus said in between bites "I am holding a council in the evening and I would really appreciate if you were there. If it's not too much to ask of you. I am looking forward to hearing suggestions from experienced people"

"Of course, we'll be there" Peter assured him to which Susan and Lucy agreed nodding their heads with solemn smiles. Although Susan's smile didn't reach her eyes. I made a mental note to talk to her later, she's worrying me.

"I would like to see the prisoner first Erasmus" he looked surprised at my request but complied anyways.

I was curious, given the fact that he was so reluctant to talk it was worth the try.

After breakfast I went down to the dungeons accompanied by Diácano and two wolves, part of the King's personal guard. They were slender and powerfully built creatures, a little bigger than an average wolf probably, and with large yellow eyes. Big and heavy teeth adorned their mouths. Accalia, a she-wolf, had black shiny fur, less massive than his partner, Amaruq,a huge grey wolf, his fur was dense a looked quite fluffy.

In spite of being talking creatures they preferred to walked around the castle in a menacing silence. Their eyes warily taking in their surroundings.

We descended the last flight of stairs leading to the dungeons and we met Bavra, the faun, on guard. He nervously bowed at me and quickly open the iron door. I could hear Amaruq grunting under his breath when he walked past Bavra who visibly shivered and suck on his breath.

·Stop that" Accalia reprimanded him.

Amaruq was shaking with quite laughter while Diácano and I grinned at him. We came to a top at a dark cell. It was very silent and through dark a bulk was visible on the floor.

"Get up" I commanded the prisoner with a loud and strong voice.

Nothing.

"Haven't you heard the King? Get. Up." demanded Diácano nearing the bars of the cell. Nothing. He looked back at me.

"Open the cell" I told him.

He quickly turn and galloped back to Bavra in search of the keys. I approached the cell with my hand on the bars, I tried to look past the darkness but it was impossible, so I grabbed the torch from the wall and illuminated with its dim fire the cell. Effectively the man was lying on the floor and he wasn't moving. At all. Besides me Amaruq and Accalia were grunting leaning over the cell, their tail up and active. They glanced at me worried.

Hearing the sound of hooves on the stone floor we withdraw to let Diácano open the cell and soon I was standing besides the prisoner. I passed the torch to Diácano as I squatted in front of him.

"Your Majesty, should I call a healer?" asked Bavra from his spot on the cell door.

"It's too late. He is already dead" I stated making him gasp.

The man's eyes were wide open, his skin pale, violet spots beginning to appear on it, his hand cold.

Accalia approached and started smelling the body and as she near his stomach she scrunched up her nose shaking her head. "Poison" she confirmed.

Carefully I lifted his shirt to reveal a cut on his abdomen, it was a thin line, not even deep but it's outline was black, as if rotten.

Directing towards Amaruq I ordered him "Find King Erasmus. Do not talk to anybody on your way there. Tell him to summon the council now, we can not wait any longer"

Nodding his head the grey wolf took off. I then turned to Diácano, his face expressed the same worry I felt.

We had a traitor in the castle.

(End of Edmund's POV)

#narnia #narnia fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #chronicles of narnia #the battle of calormen #edmund pevensie #king edmund the just #peter pevensie #high king peter #king peter the magnificent #susan pevensie #queen susan the gentle #lucy pevensie #queen lucy the valiant

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murkrees · 6 years

Text

it’s a date; moon taeil ft. ten

summary: “excuse me, but how do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?” based on this post

pairing: taeil x reader

genre: florist! au, sibling! au, fluff

“Hyung!” The chime of the bell that hung over the front door sounded, and Moon Taeil looked up from cutting the rose thorns to see a younger boy entering the flower shop, skidding to a stop in front of him.

“Don’t you have school, Jeno?” He wiped his hands on the white smock that was layered atop his casual clothes, ruffling the younger’s hair affectionately. Jeno smiled sheepishly, embarrassed to be caught ditching.

“I just dropped by to tell you that Jaemin and I won’t be taking over your shift later. There’s a big exam coming up and we need to study for it,” he mentioned. The wide group of high school and college-aged boys that he was part of ran a flower shop to rake in extra cash, taking shifts as they juggled school, uni and having a part-time job.

“All the more reason for you to be in school,” Taeil sighed, frowning, “What about the rest of the dream boys?”

“We’re all having exams this week.”

“And the rest?”

“Johnny and Ten hyung went to Chicago, Taeyong and Jaehyun hyung are working on their projects, Yuta hyung’s having a date tonight, Hansol hyung and Doyoung hyung’s cramming for their exams too,” Jeno answered simply, “Winwin hyung and Kun hyung have plans later.”

Taeil crinkled his nose in distaste, “Well, thanks for telling me. I’ll take the extra shift later. Make sure you study well, Jeno.”

Jeno nodded enthusiastically, already waving goodbye and running out the front door with an enunciated farewell. Taeil straightened his back, stretching before walking behind the counter to relax for a bit. He had a long day ahead of him, and he might as well do so.

He plopped down on the comfortable chair provided, suddenly feeling sleepy. A five-minute nap couldn’t hurt. His eyes were already fluttering shut, ready to doze off to dreamland. However, that was when the bell of the front door chimed once more. He didn’t bother to open his eyes before saying, “Did you forget something, Jeno?”

The only response he got was the sound of someone slapping something on the counter in a pissed manner. His eyes opened to see a 20,000 won bill in front of him, and the prettiest girl he’d ever seen standing on the other side. You had the sweetest, most poisonous smile on your face, fiery eyes and hair slightly messy in the most perfect manner. In an instant he stood up, clearing his throat as his cheeks flushed red in both embarrassment and awe.

“Excuse me,” you started, a melodic lilt to your voice that made Taeil do a nervous gulp, “But how do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?”

He did a double take, a little bewildered, “Excuse me?”

“Please, just answer the question,” you ran a hand through your hair, sighing through your lips, “It’s just that- my brother’s an ass and he left me here while going on a vacation without telling me. I just want him to have a little welcome present when he gets back tomorrow morning.”

“O-Oh,” he pinched his hand lightly in order to control the onslaught of color on his cheeks and get a grip on himself, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Well,” you gave an elegant shrug, and Taeil’s completely forgot how to breathe. He stepped around the counter and walked around the shop, you trailing behind him and peering over his shoulder as he picked out the flowers.

“You’ll want wild tansies to represent that you declare war against him, along with dodders to say that there’s something lacking between you and your brother,” he murmured, gathering the flowers in his hand.

“There’s something certainly lacking in that head of his,” you snorted softly. Taeil cracked a smile.

“We can put in red balsams for impatience, cyclamen for separation and geraniums for stupidity,” he turned around to face you, sending you an assuring smile, “I’ll wrap these up for you.”

“Thanks,” the fire in your eyes had softened to something akin of curiosity, “It’s cool how you have them all memorized.”

“It’s easy if you put your heart to it. I have nothing better to do in this sodding shop anyways,” he noticed the easygoing twinkle in your eyes, and he pinched his arm once to control the flushing in his cheeks and neck. He probably looked like a tomato at this point. He diverted his eyes from you to focus on tying the bouquet, wrapping them delicately and switching their positions so they looked pleasing to the eye before handing them to you, “H-Here.”

“How much will it be?”

“No charge,” upon seeing the widening of your eyes, he rushed to continue, “I mean – I – you seem upset so you could probably use the twenty thousand won to buy some comfort food or-“

“You’re cute, Taeil-ssi,” your eyes darted to the nametag on his smock. You let out a small huff of laughter, amused, “Keep the twenty thousand won anyway. Will you still be here tomorrow?”

“Y-Yes,” he answered without thinking.

“Well then, I’ll see you tomorrow,” you were halfway out the door before he could say anything else, giving him a playful wave, “Have a nice evening, Taeil-ssi.”

“You too,” he answered weakly, plopping down his chair. Tomorrow was certainly going to be eventful.

Taeil didn’t want to admit it, but he was anticipating your presence ever since he walked in the shop. He had taken over Yuta’s shift because of his ridiculous slip-up, and he could only hope to not embarrass himself any further in front of you. Yuta already had enough suspicious with his sudden eagerness to work, but was grateful enough for it anyway. He distracted himself by rearranging the pansies and watering the flowers, making sure they all had his equal attention before sweeping the floors off of leaves and dust that had accumulated since morning.

The streets were empty, mostly due to the scalding weather outside. Even though fall was supposed to be on it’s way, it seemed that the skies decided to push the last of the season’s heat today. Anyone would be crazy to walk out in this kind of hot spell. This made for little to no customers coming in to buy flowers, which in turn made Taeil extremely bored. Taeyong and Johnny had pulled out the weeds and fertilized the flowers during their noon shift, so that left him with virtually nothing to do.

The minutes ticked by. Taeil felt himself growing more restless as time passed, and eventually decided that you wouldn’t be coming. Not under this hot weather, anyway. He still had 45 minutes until his shift ended. He sat himself down and folded his hands on the counter, resting his head on them. Within seconds, he was already off into dreamland.

Taeil didn’t know how long he dozed off for. Twenty minutes, half an hour? He heard the bell chime and decided to ignore it, thinking that it was Doyoung coming in to take over his shift.

“Taeil-ssi?”

His head shot up in surprise, looking up to see your profile. You were holding a bouquet of flowers in your arms, a little hesitant in waking him up. He quickly wiped an arm across his mouth to hide any traces of drool and stood up so fast he almost knocked the chair over. It was apparent that his soul hadn’t returned to his body yet, because he banged his hip to the counter in his haste, the sound echoing in the store. His mouth opened an ‘o’ of shock and pain, a hand holding the most likely bruised area. In an instant, you were by his side, pressing your hand against his atop his hip as if to make it better.

“Oh my god, are you okay? That was a nasty hit,” you fretted over him, your voice holding concern. Taeil nodded, biting his lip to withstand the pain.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” he winced at the slight crack of his voice, clearing his throat. It was then that he suddenly noticed your hand on his and the proximity of your faces – he felt his cheeks warm to the point where he was convinced he looked like a lobster. You pulled away, worry evident in your eyes.

“Make sure you’re more careful of yourself next time.”

He then noticed what you were wearing – due to the hot weather outside, you donned a frilly, off-the-shoulder white top paired with light blue jeans. He felt like he could faint from the sight. Too late, Taeil thought. He was already too far in with this stupid crush of his.

It was then that embarrassment hit Taeil – his cheeks turned redder (if possible), all too aware of the pregnant silence in the air, “So what did your brother say about the flowers?”

“Oh,” you let out a light laugh that took his breath away, grabbing the bouquet of flowers you brought with you from the counter, “Well, he didn’t specifically say anything, since I’m giving him the silent treatment. He left these by my bed, though. I was going to ask you what they mean.”

You handed the flowers over to him, which Taeil grabbed and examined. Hyacinths, tulips, and daffodils – all meaning one thing.

“He’s asking you to forgive him,” his lips quirked up in a smile. Your brother sure had a way with the ladies, communicating with flowers and all. He seemed to be well versed in the language.

“You bet,” you huffed, “After that stunt he pulled, it’s a wonder I’ve even forgiven him at all. I still want to tell him he’s stupid, though. Have you got any flowers for that?”

“Y-Yeah,” he stepped away from the counter and began making his way around the shop, with you trailing behind him. Willing the blood away from his cheeks, he cleared his throat once more and started with the bouquet.

“Geraniums for stupidity, yellow carnations for disdain, black eyed susans for justice, peonies for anger, and finally, chrysanthemums for honesty,” he turned around, finding you already looking at him. He mustered up a small smile, flustered, “I’ll wrap these up for you.”

You snapped to attention, red dusting your cheeks at the embarrassment of being caught staring at him, “O-Oh, of course.”

You stepped out of the way and Taeil walked back to the counter, grabbing some wrapping paper and sorting the flowers out so the colors were pleasant to the eye.

“Hey, Taeil-ssi, isn’t it kind of unfair that I know your name and you don’t know mine?” He looked up at you and found you smiling at him, which did nothing to quell his fluttering heartbeat, “I’m (Y/N).”

“Well, (Y/N), these flowers are on the house then,” he mentioned. Your eyes widened, insisting that you pay for them, “R-Really. You can use the money for buying ice cream with the hot weather outside, or something…”

“Are you sure?” You weren’t convinced, ready to pull out your wallet at any time now.

“Positive,” he tied the bouquet and handed them to you, which you took gratefully.

“Will you still be here tomorrow then, Taeil-ssi?”

Automatically, he nodded. You gave him a beaming smile, which nearly turned him into a puddle. With a “See you tomorrow, Taeil-ssi!” and a wave, you turned around and left the shop.

Not five minutes later, the bell chimed once again. Doyoung strolled in, raising an eyebrow at the red-tinted cheeks of the elder.

“What’s up with you, hyung?”

“Do you think Johnny would let me take over his shift tomorrow?”

Taeil walked into the flower shop, greeting Ten behind the counter. He made his way to the back, putting his bag down in the staff room and grabbing one of the white smocks that hung on the wall. Ten walked in as he rummaged through his bag for his phone.

“Isn’t it Johnny’s shift today, hyung?” He asked, already untying his own smock and hanging it on the wall. Taeil’s fingers brushed the corner of his phone, and he dug his hand deeper before pulling it out triumphantly. He quickly shoved it in his pocket.

“I’m taking over for him today. He’s taking over mine for Monday.”

“Huh,” Ten remarked, “I’ll chill here first, then, hyung. I have plans and I don’t want to arrive there too early.”

With a noise of agreement, Taeil walked out of the staff room to find that you was already there. The evening light illuminated the shop with an almost ethereal-like glow, and you gazed on each and every corner of the shop in a wonderlike state. He stood there, frozen, unsure of what to do. The staff room door swung closed behind him with a loud click, and you turned to look at him. A smile instantly blossomed on your face, and you greeted him with a wave.

“Hi, Taeil-ssi!”

He broke out of his reverie, raising his hand in a shy greeting, “H-Have you and your brother made up yet?”

“I haven’t gotten any flowers from him yet today, actually,” you shrugged, “But I do feel kinda bad for yesterday. I’m thinking I should stop messing with him. Can I get a bouquet saying that I forgive him?”

“Sure,” he stepped forward and walked around the store, grabbing what he needed, “Daffodils to represent new beginnings, hydrangeas for heartfelt emotions and gratitude for being understood, and finally, white clovers to represent that you still love him despite his actions.”

He looked at you from the corners of his eyes, catching you staring at him once more. Your cheeks held a rosy hue, and Taeil had to quell the blood rising to his own cheeks.

“T-That’s perfect,” you cleared your throat, and he walked over to the counter to wrap it up. You followed behind him, watching him work, “Are you always this passionate about flowers and their meanings?”

“I mean, it’s a hobby of mine. It’s certainly interesting to learn about,” he let out a small huff of laughter, “Why?”

“Well…” you bit your lip, averting your eyes in an almost shy way. The pink dusting your cheeks deepened in color, and Taeil had to withhold a squeak, “If you didn’t mind, I was about to ask you if we could meet up outside the shop so you could teach me about it?”

Taeil froze, all the blood rushing up to his cheeks, “I – uh –“

A loud click sounded. Both you and him turned to see Ten walking out of the staff door, jacket slung over his shoulder as he held his bag in hand. He also froze, eyes zeroing in on you before they narrowed.

“What are you doing here?”

“Me? What are you doing here?” You clapped back, crossing your arms over your chest in an annoyed manner. Taeil gazed between the two of you confusedly, no doubt wondering how you knew each other.

“I work here! I thought you knew that!” Ten scowled. You scowled right back.

“And I thought you knew I’ve always wanted to go to Chicago! “

Taeil cut in, a bewildered look on his face as his eyes flitted between you and Ten, “Wait, he’s your brother? You’re her sister, Ten?”

“As luck has it,” you answered, scowl disappearing in an instant as you turned to face him, “So what do you say, Taeil-ssi? The coffee shop down the street at five tomorrow?”

“I – yes, that’d be great?” The last statement came out as more of a question rather than an affirmative. Regardless, your whole face lit up.

“Don’t worry about the flowers – my brother’ll pay for them. Take them out of his salary or something,” you winked at Taeil, turning him into a blushing mess. You spun on your heel, walking out with a wave, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Taeil-ssi – it’s a date!”

Ten choked.

cr. gif not mine unless stated!

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aion-rsa · 3 years

Text

New on Netflix UK March 2021: The Irregulars & Moxie Streaming This Month

https://ift.tt/2MAZXx5

March brings breezes loud and shrill/stirs the dancing daffodil. Bit of poetry for you there. What Sara Coleridge fails to mention is that March also brings season seven of Brooklyn Nine-Nine to Netflix UK, more weekly episodes of Riverdale season five, a brand new sci-fi series from the creators of Misfits, a new film directed by Amy Poehler and a host of cool animated series.

The One (pictured above) is an eight-part British series created by Howard Overman (Misfits, Crazyhead) about a near-future world in which a DNA test can track down your perfect partner. It’s adapted from John Marrs’ novel of the same name, and yes, has a strikingly similar premise to US anthology sci-fi Soulmates. Another fun new UK addition is The Irregulars, a period supernatural fantasy set in the Sherlock Holmes universe in which a bunch of ragtag kids not only have to save the world from darkness, but also from the villainous and self-serving Great Detective himself.

There’s also the new DOTA: Dragon’s Blood and Pacific Rim: The Black animated series, plus more true crime docs, reality shows and movies old and new. Here’s the list of confirmed new additions arriving this month, we’ll update as more dates are announced.

1 March Biggie: I Got a Story to Tell (new doc film) The Bold Type Seasons 1-4 Chappelle’s Show Seasons 1-2 Ghostbusters (1984) Steel Magnolias (1989) 3:10 to Yuma (2007)

3 March Moxie (new film) Murder Among the Mormons (new doc series) 1939 The Invisible (2014)

4 March The Art of Self-Defense (2019) Pacific Rim: The Black (new series)

5 March The Best of Enemies (2019) Nevenka: Breaking the Silence (new doc series) Sentinelle (new film) City of Ghosts (new children’s series) Fate of Alakada: The Party Planner (2020)

8 March Bombay Begums (new series)

9 March The Houseboat (new reality series)

10 March Caïd (new series) Dealer (new series) Last Chance U Basketball (new series) She Dies Tomorrow (2020) Marriage or Mortgage (new reality series) We Love Moses (2016)

11 March The Block Island Sound (2020) Coven of Sisters (new film)

12 March The One (new series) Yes Day (new film) Pet Sematary (2019) The Sisters Brothers (2018) Paradise PD Part 3 (adult animation) Just In Time (new film) Love Alarm season 2 Paper Lives

14 March The Nun (2018)

15 March Zero Chill (new series) The Lost Pirate Kingdom (new doc series) Abla Fahita Drama Queen (new comedy series)

Why Brooklyn Nine-Nine is Ending

By Alec Bojalad

Sky Cinema: What’s New in March 2021?

By Kirsten Howard

16 March Waffles+Mochi (new series) Blinded by the Light (2019)

17 March Operation Varsity Blues: The College Admissions Scandal (new doc series) Under Suspicion: Uncovering the Wesphael Case (new doc series) Simply Black (new film)

18 March Nate Bargatze: The Greatest Average American (new stand-up)

19 March Formula 1: Drive to Survive Season 3 (new series) Sky Rojo (new series) Country Comfort (new series) Little (2019)

22 March Crazy Rich Asians (2018)

23 March Loyiso Gola: Unlearning (new stand-up)

24 March Seaspiracy (new documentary) Who Killed Sara? (new Mexican series)

25 March DOTA: Dragon’s Blood (new series)

26 March The Irregulars (new series) A Week Away (new film) Bad Trip (comedy film) Nailed It! Season 5 (new series) Magic For Humans (new comedy series) Eighth Grade (2018) Brooklyn Nine-Nine Season 7

Coming to Netflix UK in April and May 2021

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Shadow and Bone – April 23rd Jupiter’s Legacy – May 7th

The post New on Netflix UK March 2021: The Irregulars & Moxie Streaming This Month appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3e9sBAT

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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daffodil-of-the-storm · 9 months

Text

Little Jester WIP - pigment ink on paper

Some stories yet to be lived in order to be told ♪▲

Breeze

WIP - Pencil on paper

Horde Prime and the Companion. The Wind and His reflection.

#Little Brothers of Prime #Galactic Horde #Galactic Horde Clones #Horde Clones #Horde Clone OC #Daffodil of the Storm #Daffodil aka the Companion #Post-Silence or Pre-Silence #the text shall tell when the time comes #work in progress #Horde prime #The Emperor of the Known Universe

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grogthebarbarian · 7 years

Text

to find purpose

its has been forever since i posted BUT i actually finished this fic so i figured i should post it

warnings: death, mild violence, but nothing really graphic

also on ao3!

He is in a forest. It seems familiar somehow but he can’t remember why. He can’t seem remember much of anything.

“Hello.”

There is a small woman, a gnome, who gleams in the dark forest air, hair white and dazzling. She smiles at him, and that is dazzling too. It almost hurts to look at her but he does anyway.

“What’s happening?” he asks her.

“You’re dead,” she says.

“Oh.” He looks down at his hands. They seem alive. “I don’t remember dying.”

“People rarely do,” she says and her hand ghosts over his, not touching but comforting all the same.

“Are you dead too?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “Not quite.”

“Are you an angel?”

She laughs. It sounds sad somehow. “No.”

“Oh.” He’s not quite sure what to make of her. He’s not quite sure what to make of any of this. “What do I do now?”

She smiles and it feels bittersweet. “You find your way.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“You will.” Her form flickers, like sunlight passing through moving trees. “I can’t stay. I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright,” he says, even though he doesn’t want to be alone. “I’ll manage.”

She smiles, reaches out and vanishes.

He turns and leaves. He isn’t sure where he is going or what he is looking for but he has feeling that if he looks, he might find it.

He wanders.

Day comes, then night, then day again. Time no longer holds any meaning to him so he stops keeping track.

He passes by people and they, in turn, pass through him. It’s an odd sensation and it makes his head hurt so he avoids it.

Everywhere he goes, there’s an itch, right at the base of his skull. A vague feeling of discomfort, of things not feeling right. It drives him forward.

He feels…something in his veins. A pull, perhaps. A yearning. He doesn’t know what it means.

He doesn’t know what much of anything means.

So, he wanders.

He finds himself in field of flowers. They are bright, vibrant and varied, more flowers than he can even name, more than he even knew existed. He sees her in the center of them, just as bright and vibrant, and he watches as she whispers and a seed sprouts, a sapling grows and a tree towers over them, tall and strong.

She looks up and sees him. “The tree will help,” she says, gesturing to the flowers around them. “They talk to each other. It will help them grow.”

He nods. He does not know the ways of plants but he trusts her word. “Are you like me?” he asks.

“I guess,” she says. She places her hand on the ground and a white daffodil springs up beneath her fingers.

He sits down next to her. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“Neither do I.”

“Oh,” he says. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

“It’s not that easy,” she says and another flower pops up. He doesn’t recognize it but it looks frail and delicate, with its thin petals and dark purple color. “You have to find your own way.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you have to find your purpose. Find out why you’re still here and not…You know.” She looks away. “Somewhere else.”

“Do you not like being…like this?”

She shrugs. “It’s just…not what I was expecting.”

He nods. He can understand that, at least. “Have you found it? Your purpose?”

She smiles but it is a hopeless, sad smile. “No. I’ve been looking for so long, I don’t know if I ever will. It’s like I don’t really…matter.”

She looks so sad and withdrawn that something in him aches. “I think you will, eventually.”

“How do you know?”

He thinks. “I don’t know. It just…feels like you will. You finding your purpose just feels right.” She looks confused and maybe a little skeptical. He shrugs. “Besides, you helped these flowers. You helped me. We would be less helped without you, so that means you matter. Right?”

She looks at him and then smiles. It’s a genuine smile instead of a sad mock-up and it lights up her whole face. He decides that he likes it. “I guess it does. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The itch starts up again. “Um. Sorry. I have to go find my way n’ shit.”

She nods. “Good luck.”

She hands him a flower. Flower aren’t his thing, but this one is funny looking and it makes him chuckle, just a little, so he tucks it away and says, “Thanks. You too.”

He looks back after he exits the field. She’s just a speck but he can see her fire red hair clear against the light blue sky. She waves. He waves back and walks away.

He travels.

He travels across plains, and forests, and cities, and mountains, and yet the feeling of wrongness persists, a heavy weight across his shoulders.

It’s a crushing feeling, having nowhere to belong.

He hears him before he sees him. There’s a jaunty tune, merry and light, and it makes him laugh so he seeks it out.

It comes from a gnome. He’s bright against drab streets, purple clothes and shiny flute, and his voice is brighter, loud and clear and jolly. He steps forward. The gnome spots him and smiles and it draws him closer.

“You’re new, aren’t you?” The bard says once he’s close enough. “You haven’t found your way yet.”

“No.”

The bard grins and taps his nose. “Don’t worry, you will. They always do.”

The bard is bright, almost shining against the grey cobblestone, glowing, gleaming. It leeches into him and buoys him and he can’t help but ask. “You’ve found your way, haven’t you?”

The bard beams again, teeth shining. “Yep.” He strums a little tune and then gestures across the street, to the eves of a bustling inn. There’s a crowd of people milling around, but through them he spots a pair of musicians, a large towering half-orc with a violin and a small gnome with a flute, playing the same jaunty tune that first drew him in, and he knows that it is her that the bard is here for.

The bard’s smile is soft and fond as he watches her play. “She’s doing well,” he tells him.

For a moment, he wants to ask what the bard’s purpose is, to put to words the way the bard looks at the other, but it feels wrong and invasive so he doesn’t, and instead sits and listens to the music filling the street.

Eventually, the music dies down, and the pair across the way put down their instruments, joking together as they count up their earnings.

“How did you do it?” He asks the bard, breaking the brief silence. “How did you find your purpose?”

“The music.” The bard says. “It tells me where to go. I just had to figure out how to hear it.” At his confused look, the bard laughs. “I don’t think I can help you. It’s a bit different for everyone.”

“Oh. Well, thanks anyway.”

The bard grins, bright and comforting. “You’ll find your way eventually. I’m sure of it.”

He grins back, and leaves to a rousing tune.

He tries to listen the pull, the tugging on his soul, to see where it leads him but it’s hard and complicated and too weak for him to grasp, and it doesn’t feel like he’s going anywhere. All it does is drives him forward, urging him to keep moving.

It worries him if he thinks about it, so he doesn’t. He just keeps going.

He’ll find an answer eventually.

He happens into a forest. It’s quiet and empty, and he likes it enough, but forests are unfamiliar to him, and he soon loses his way. He’s not too concerned, for time doesn’t mean much to a dead soul, but there’s no pull, no hint as to where to go. He thinks that it should concern him, for the pull to the missing, but it feels so distance that he can’t bring himself to care so he merely wanders.

He’ll make it out eventually.

“Are you lost, stranger?”

He starts, and turns to see a woman in hunting gear, a bow at one side and a towering bear at the other. He hadn’t heard her approach and he knows that she is like him.

“A bit,” He says. “But it doesn’t really matter.”

She gives him a reserved smile. “Regardless, it is my duty to help you.” She tilts her head and looks at him, as if she is seeing his very soul, and then she smirks. “Besides, I think you might need it more than you know.”

“Is that your purpose?”

“It is part of it. I’m still finding the rest.”

It hadn’t occurred to him that one could have more than one purpose, and he’s curious, but he doesn’t press. “I suppose you could help me, then.”

She smiles more broadly and turns, bear at her heels. He follows, sticking close so that he doesn’t lose them to the shadows. She walks confidently, steps sure, going along some path he cannot see. The forest is her home, her place, and he hopes that someday he will find a place that he can walk in as assuredly as she does.

After a ways, there is a rustle amongst the leaves, and he stops, alert, with a rush of adrenaline (protectdefendsave) that he hadn’t felt since the day he died.

The hunter raises a hand, calm and elegant. “Do not worry. It is only my brother.”

She smiles into the darkness, and he can see something shifting, a flash of metal, and he hears the sound of wings folding together. Yet, somehow, despite the hidden presence, the shadows seem less threatening than before.

“Come,” The hunter says. “We still have a ways to go.”

They walk in silence, the brother following like a shadow, until, like dawn, the trees break before them, revealing a sprawling snow covered plain. The hunter and her shadows stop at the edge of the tree line.

“This is as far as I can take you.”

“S’alright. I can find my way from here. I think.”

She looks at him, and gives him a wink, matched with a confident smirk. “I believe that you will. Just follow your heart, and you’ll do fine.”

From the shadows, the brother makes a clicking sound, and she laughs.

“What?”

“He said good luck, you’re going to need it.”

“Well, fuck you too, mate.”

Their laughter follows him as he takes his leave.

The pull returns, stronger than ever, singing through his veins and his bones in a bright chorus. It urges him forward, no longer pulling but guiding, his path ahead as clear to him as the tattoos decorating his skin.

It will lead him to where he needs to go, he knows, so he follows.

There is a woman, a half-orc. She has already felled two of her opponents and he admires her skill. However, three more still face her and she is on her last legs. He has seen many fights like this before.

But something is different.

There is movement behind her. He steps through the fighting and sees a human child, curled up on the ground. Blood spills out around her. She is injured.

The woman is protecting her.

Something inside of him clicks and settles. He has found his way. This is his purpose.

The women, behind him now, shudders and lifts her axe as her opponents move in. She will not survive another hit. He turns to her and places his hands on her shoulders and says, “Be strong, brave one. She still needs you.” He gives her his strength.

He feels her soul ignite.

She lets loose a cry, lunges and her opponents fall at her feet.

He turns away as she goes to the child. He has done his part. He has found his purpose. It sings in his veins, bright and dazzling. It tells him where he must go next, urging him forward. There are others that he needs help.

(As he goes, he sees a simmer out of the corner of his eye, bright and familiar, as the woman mutters a healing word to the child, but when he turns, it is gone.)

The man is young, barely even a man, and new. Newer than him. He’s sitting in the street, ink black smoke billowing out of him, through his eyes, his mouth, his hands, through the seams on his being. The crowd cuts a neat circle around, subconsciously driven off by the chill in the air.

The boy looks up as he approaches and asks, in a raw, wispy voice. “What’s happening?”

“You’re dead.”

“Oh.” The boy looks at his hands. The smoke makes a sound like a fire being doused, and vanishes, and he is viciously glad. He’s never much liked demons. The boy blinks, as if waking up from a dream, and looks up at him with bright blue eyes. He looks sunken and small, and his hair is a dazzling white, and he’s struck by how young he looks. “I-I don’t remember dying.”

“People rarely do,” he says. He crouches down beside the boy.

“Are you dead too?” the boy asks.

He laughs, “Not quite. I was like you, once, and now I’m not.”

“Oh.” The boy frowns, looks around. He seems to take being dead pretty well. “What do I do now?”

“Now? You find your way.”

“How do I do that?”

“You find what feels right.” He shrugs. “There’s not much else to it.”

“Hm.” The boy smiles, tentatively. “I think I can manage that.”

He smiles back. “Good.”

The boy stands. He seems to shine in the rising sun, white hair glimmering. He looks to him, nods, and walks away.

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firstfandomfangirl · 7 years

Text

garsako

I decided to post this here as well bc the original request came from here

takes place in my fic AU, but not much context is needed. They live in the monastery, there’s a cat. Don’t ask.

Moment / Rated K (G) / Romance/Family

Moment

Instead of happy chirps and tweets, a loud, strangled squawk was what woke Sensei Garmadon this morning.

The grey-haired man pried his tired eyes open, blinking in the dim light for a moment before rolling onto his side to look at the clock. 5:49. Too early. Still, it was probably a good idea to find out what made that ungodly noise that woke him up. Slowly, Garmadon sat up, stretching his arms over his head as he swung his legs over the side. Taking his robe from his nightstand, he eased out of bed, hoping the aging floorboards wouldn’t creak and wake Misako, who was still fast asleep. Fortunately, the floor stayed quiet, and he slipped his robe on as he moved over to the window.

There, on the ground outside, was Indigo’s cat, Knifefoots or something, feasting on the carcass of an unfortunate songbird that had flown too late from the predator’s grasp. Poor creature. Turning back to his bed, the elderly man took a step, wincing as the boards protested loudly under his weight. On the bed, his wife shifted, then opened her eyes, rolling over to face him.

“Garmadon?” She murmured, glancing at the clock. “What are you doing up this early?”

“Good morning, my dear.” He crossed the remaining distance between them before sitting on the edge of the bed. “The cat killed something right outside our window, rather noisily. I went to see what had happened.”

“Mmm.” Misako pushed herself up, leaning forward to look past him at the window. “Well, as long as we’re up, how about we watch the sunrise?”

“Sounds good to me. From here or outside?”

“Outside. As long as we’re doing it, we may as well get the best view.”

“Speaking of view, we’ll be able to see it best from the roof.”

“Are you serious?”

“Why not?”

“Let’s do it.” Misako swung her feet over the side of the bed, pushing the covers back before standing up. “Is it chilly outside?”

“Probably.”

“Let’s bring a blanket, then.” The former archeologist pulled a fleecy blanket off their bed, folding it up before hugging it to her chest. “Come on.”

“Ladies first.” Garmadon stepped over to their bedroom door and opened it, waving her through. His wife snatched her glasses off her bedside table before complying, heading through the doorway before stopping and waiting for him to follow. The couple headed up two flights of stairs, then opened a window at the end of a hall and climbed out onto the slick roof. Misako shivered as a cool breeze blew past them. Her nightgown wasn’t very thick. Sitting down facing the glowing horizon, Garmadon beckoned her down next to him, then wrapped the blanket around both of them. His wife sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a sunrise.”

“Same here. I didn’t even see the sky for almost a year.”

“There’s not much to see in the Cursed Realm, is there?”

“Not much at all.” He confirmed. The two were quiet for a few minutes, waltching as the sun crept ever closer towards the faraway horizon.

“Garmadon?” Misako said at last.

“Hmm?”

“I have to talk to you about something.” From the sound of her tone, something serious.

“Can it wait? I don’t want to ruin this moment.”

“No, I’ve been waiting for a moment such as this to say it.” Garmadon was silent, waiting for her to continue. “You remember Wu’s letter – the one you sent to me with your name on it?” Her husband lowered his head slightly in shame.

“Of course. It never stopped haunting me in the fifty years since I did it.”

“You’ll recall that when you tried to explain it to me, I said that the letter was the reason I married you?”

“Yes.” What was she getting at?

“I lied.”

“What?”

“That wasn’t the reason I married you. It certainly helped, but it was so much more than just that silly letter.”

“Like what? I don’t recall having many good qualities back then…”

“Well, there’s your charm, for one.” She wrapped her arm around his back. “You’re a hopeless romantic. And, even back them, you were a gentleman. And you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“Are you talking about the younger me, or me now?”

“Both.” She kissed his cheek before continuing. “Wu never had the same appeal. He was sweet, but he was always nervous, always tried too hard to gain my approval. You were confident. Easygoing.”

“Ah, so you did fall for my ruse.” When she looked up at him in confusion, he explained. “I wasn’t confident around you, not in the least. I was far more nervous than my brother.” Misako raised an eyebrow.

“Well, this is news to me.”

“Like I said my ruse worked.” He grinned, then kissed her forehead.

“You liar.” She elbowed him playfully.

“Ouch. I surrender.” He tucked the blanket tighter around them. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon, painting the sky pink and gold. “What a lovely morning.”

“Indeed.” Misako rested her head on his shoulder again. Abruptly, another loud squawk made them both jump, then they watched as an injured bird flew up into view before falling again, flapping its wings frantically as it plummeted to its doom.

“That cat has been busy this morning.” Garmadon remarked.

“So he has. Or is it a she?”

“I think it’s a he.”

“Mmm.”

“Anything else you wanted to say?”

“Like what?”

“Like any more attributes of mine that you find insanely attractive?”

“Well, for one, you’re not very vain.”

“Touché.”

“Though it’s probably not a good idea to feed your ego, I do have a few more.”

“Do tell?”

“First of all, you’re sweet. And loyal. And you’re a wonderful father.”

“Am I?”

“Of course you are. Lloyd adores you. And so do the other ninja, for that matter.”

“Mom? Dad??” A younger voice called from below, and the couple leaned forward to see Lloyd standing in the yard below them.

“Speak of the devil.” Misako remarked.

“Good morning, Lloyd.” Garmadon called down to him.

“Why are you on the roof??” Their son yelled up, putting his hands on his hips.

“We’re watching the sunrise! Want to join us?” Misako asked.

“Nah. I have to find Jay. He stole Kai’s shampoo and ran off, Kai sent me to chase him down.”

“Well, have fun with that, then.” Garmadon leaned back, tucking the blanket around him and his wife tighter again.

“The daffodils are blooming.” Misako pointed to the patch of yellow flowers at the base of one of the trees.

“So they are.” Her husband acknowledged. “You should pick some for the table later.”

“I will.” A pause. “Speaking of the table, we should go find breakfast. I’m hungry.”

“So am I. But let’s watch the sunrise a little longer.” The sun was completely above the horizon now, the morning rays of golden light sparkling on the dew in the grass and flowers. “There really is such a nice view from up here.”

“Indeed there is.” The couple sat on the roof for a few minutes more, leaning on each other with the blanket wrapped around them as they listened to the birds and stared at the sky. Finally, the sound of Misako’s stomach growling loudly broke the relative silence, eliciting an awkward chuckle from both of them.

“Alright, now let’s go inside.” Garmadon stood up, offering his wife a hand and helping her to her feet. Taking the blanket, they climbed back through the window, heading down the hallway towards the stairs that lead back down to the second floor.

“Should we get dressed?” Misako asked as they began to descend said stairs.

“I don’t see why. It’s our house, I don’t think anyone will mind if we come to breakfast in our bedclothes.”

“True.” The couple hurried down to the ground floor before making their way to the kitchen, where they acquired some eggs and toast and made their way to the dining room to eat them. As they ate, Garmadon couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander to his few minutes alone with Misako on the roof, the sun making her silver hair shine like gold. His day-to-day life was so hectic (living with around fifteen other people was never very quiet) that he almost never got to be alone with her like that. This morning, though… he lived for moments like this.

#Ninjago #Garsako #Garmadon #Misako #Sensei Garmadon #ninjago fanfiction #fff's fanfiction #Lloyd garmadon

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usviraltrends-blog · 6 years

Photo

New Post has been published on https://usviraltrends.com/a-babys-murder-opened-a-dark-chapter-in-ireland-that-still-hasnt-been-closed/

A baby's murder opened a dark chapter in Ireland that still hasn't been closed

Cahersiveen, Ireland — At the edge of an Irish village lies a cemetery nestled between lush hills and the craggy shores of the Atlantic. Under an umbrella of iridescent clouds, Catherine Cournane makes her way toward the back plots.

She meanders past the grave of her mother, two brothers and a cousin. She visits them often here in Cahersiveen’s Holy Cross Graveyard. But on this day, she is here for someone else.

Baby John.

It has been two days since Catherine last tended his grave and at the headstone, she sees fresh chrysanthemums. Their yellow and orange petals have weathered the pelting rain and wind. Catherine wonders who left them there.

Other babies are buried at Holy Cross and their loved ones look after them. But Baby John has no one.

So, Catherine took on the task of looking after the grave. She felt compelled to make sure Baby John rested in peace. He deserved that, Catherine thought, after the ugliness that had surrounded him.

Catherine Cournane at the Holy Cross Graveyard in Cahersiveen.

Baby John’s headstone reads: “I am the Kerry Baby.”

Catherine was 15 when the tragedy unfolded.

She was in high school when Baby John died 34 years ago and she had helped carry his tiny casket to the graveyard. She was there when hundreds of schoolchildren stopped off to pay their respects with prayer after school. She joined the children when they burst into spontaneous song at the infant’s grave.

In Ireland, it wasn’t unusual for a community to gather around a loss of their own. But Baby John’s funeral was different.

Catherine did not know who the baby’s parents were. No one did. Still, no one does.

His three-day-old body had been found on a rocky stretch of beach on the outskirts of town. He had been strangled and stabbed 28 times.

But what Catherine does know is this: A baby was laid to rest on a spring day more than three decades ago and nothing would ever be the same again.

The sordid saga that unfolded would shake Catherine, her community and her country. And it would force Ireland to confront the bitter truth on how it treated its women.

In spring of 1984, Catherine was 15 and living at home with her parents and six brothers and sisters in Cahersiveen. The town’s 1,300 people had the good fortune of residing on a stunning spit of coastal land in southwest Ireland’s County Kerry that felt like the edge of Europe. It very nearly is.

Back then, everyone knew one another and if they didn’t know someone, they’d at least know of them. Police stopped residents for missing lights on bicycles but rarely anything more.

That was until Baby John.

A runner had discovered the newborn’s body on the beach and the gardai, as the Irish police are known, called Catherine’s father to the scene of the crime. Tom was an undertaker and Catherine had been surrounded by death all her life. But she took notice that night.

Tom christened the baby with water from a nearby freshwater stream. He named him John and placed him in a tiny casket. Catherine stared at it on the back seat of her father’s car. It was the smallest she’d ever seen.

She knew the circumstances of the baby’s death. She knew the police were hunting the killer; that they suspected the baby’s mother.

A couple of weeks passed. Then, one afternoon, as daffodils were beginning to break through winter soil, Catherine cycled home, down familiar lanes, to find two men waiting for her in the sitting room.

They were the police and Catherine knew exactly why they were there.

Do you have a boyfriend? they asked Catherine.

No.

Do you know anyone who does have a boyfriend?

Yes.

They asked if any of those women had been pregnant and if Catherine had heard any gossip about anyone having an affair with a married man.

No, she replied.

Catherine nearly fainted from the gardai’s questioning. She thought of herself as a “good girl,” and her mother did too. The police had brought fear into their home.

But in 1984, fear was the norm in Catholic Ireland.

Although a referendum a decade before had drastically reduced the Church’s political sway, its patriarchal weight still came down on aspects of society.

The Church crafted the curriculum for nearly all state schools and sex education was practically non-existent for girls like Catherine.

Her only exposure to sex was a box of condoms a relative once brought home as a souvenir from England. She kept the contraband hidden away, and included one as a gag gift for a friend’s birthday. When her mother found out, she got a wallop.

Condoms required a prescription and birth control pills were available only to married women if they were able to find a doctor to prescribe them.

Women found themselves raising smaller families than their mothers’ generation; yet Ireland still held one of the highest fertility rates in Western Europe. In decades prior, unmarried women who became pregnant would disappear “on holiday” for months. More likely, they were sent to church-run homes to deliver babies that would be given up for adoption, a practice for which the Church has apologized in recent years. The last mother and baby home only shut its doors in 1996.

The women would return home to silence. No one dared to ask questions.

There were few ways out for women who felt stuck in oppressive marriages; divorce was illegal and would be so until 1996.

Irish women had little say over their bodies. The state was in control. It was in this environment that the Baby John investigation unfolded.

A road leading to White Strand, the beach where Baby John was found.

At Catherine’s home in Cahersiveen, the gardai pressed on with questions.

How could you be coming to talk to me about this? she thought. My God, I’m only 15 and I haven’t done anything.

After Catherine, the police moved on to the next young woman. And then the next. They were interrogating nearly every woman of childbearing age on the Iveragh peninsula.

Brigid, whose name has been changed to protect her identity, was one of them. She was 24, single and working in a neighboring county. One weekend, she returned home to Cahersiveen to visit her parents and found the police waiting.

She has never forgotten the way one of the police officers examined her body. She felt his eyes burning through her.

She had never taken any chances and would never have become pregnant. Her parents raised her in the Church and she knew pregnancy before marriage would have amounted to a death sentence. She’d seen the fate her aunt suffered after becoming pregnant out of wedlock. Her aunt was thrown out of the house and never seen again. She had, like so many other Irish women, been erased.

At the time, the line of questioning young women like Brigid and Catherine experienced was not so shocking. Irish authorities were pushing back against significant gains made by women’s rights groups including the abolition of a law that prevented married women in civil service from working as well as campaigns for equal pay, equal rights and access to contraceptives.

None of it sat well with conservatives who saw the advances as a threat to Ireland’s traditional way of life.

Road signs in Cahersiveen town.

Religious figurines and “Rally to Save the 8th“ posters seen through a window in town.

The Cahersiveen Garda station.

A backlash was evident when over a million people welcomed Pope John Paul II to Ireland in 1979. To some, including Mary McAuliffe, a lecturer at University College Dublin, the Catholic leader’s teachings that contraception was immoral, divorce was unconceivable and a woman’s role was at home played a part in reversing some of the gains women had made.

In 1982, a schoolteacher was fired after becoming pregnant out of wedlock with a married man; two years later, Ireland’s Supreme Court ruled children born out of wedlock had no succession rights.

In September 1983, a referendum was called to constitutionally ban abortion, already illegal in practice.

Church and state blurred into one, culminating in anti-choice rhetoric, including a comment from a County Galway bishop who reportedly said the most dangerous place for a baby is in the mother’s womb.

The abortion referendum passed with a two-thirds majority and the Eighth Amendment to the Irish constitution provided the unborn with an equal right to life as the mother.

Women lived under pervasive fear. Shortly after the Eighth Amendment was passed, a 15-year-old girl, Ann Lovett, became pregnant and died in a grotto. She had gone there to secretly give birth, under a statue of the Virgin Mary.

Lovett died around the same time police were interviewing Catherine, Brigid and scores of other women in the Baby John case.

Soon the police had a suspect. Her name was Joanne Hayes.

Joanne had given birth to a boy the day before Baby John’s body was found on the beach.

She delivered her child alone on her family’s farm in Abbeydorney, a tiny town less than two hours’ drive from Cahersiveen.

Joanne lived on that farm with her infant daughter, mother, aunt and siblings. She worked as a receptionist in a newly built gym in nearby Tralee, where she met the father of her children, Jeremiah Locke.

The relationship was far from typical. Jeremiah was married and had children from another marriage. And even though abortion was illegal in Ireland, adultery was not.

Still, Joanne concealed her pregnancy from her family and coworkers. It was, like the relationship, an open secret.

By the time Joanne went into labor, the couple had broken up and Jeremiah was no longer by her side when she gave birth. It’s not clear if the baby was stillborn or whether he died soon after. Only Joanne knows.

What is known is that she was a grieving mother who wanted to keep the ordeal to herself. Quietly, she buried her son in a field at her family farm.

But Joanne needed medical care and checked into a nearby hospital.

The Baby John investigation was going nowhere and after the police saw Joanne’s name on a registry of new mothers, they pursued a theory connecting her to the murder that, court documents would later show, was “inexcusable.”

She was brought in for questioning by detectives. For most of Joanne’s life, the gardai had earned an intimidating reputation. Just a few years before, Amnesty International had published a report alleging “systematic maltreatment” of suspects, including “oppressive methods of extracting statements.”

Joanne told them she could prove she was not Baby John’s mother and pleaded with them to take her back to the baby’s grave. But the gardai refused and threatened to throw her in jail and her daughter in an orphanage.

Intimidated and scared, Joanne relented and told the police what they wanted to hear: she had killed Baby John and disposed his body at sea. Her family went along with the falsehood.

The truth would take more than three decades to surface.

As the police pressed on, Joanne was moved from jail to a psychiatric hospital. There, she finally convinced police to recover her baby’s body at the farm. The police now had two dead babies to account for.

They bandied about the idea of “heteropaternal superfecundation,” a medical anomaly suggesting Joanne had been pregnant with twins by two different men.

But Joanne’s blood work proved she couldn’t have been Baby John’s mother. The police were forced to drop the charges.

After the charges were dropped, Joanne and her family reported allegations of police abuse, both physical and psychological — but the findings of an internal police investigation were inconclusive.

Public outcry prompted a probe into the gardai’s behavior but that quickly devolved into a trial of Joanne’s womanhood.

Joanne Hayes at the Tribunal of Inquiry in Tralee, County Kerry, in 1985. Michael MacSweeney/Provision

Women demonstrate in support of Joanne Hayes outside the Tribunal. Michael MacSweeney/Provision

For months, Joanne and her family’s private lives were put on public display at a tribunal, with scores of male officials taking turns to assassinate her character according to the court documents.

A legal team showed maps where Joanne and her lover had been intimate; a doctor detailed the size of Joanne’s birth canal; male psychiatrists aired their opinions on her personal character. One even said that Joanne didn’t appear to be guilt-stricken enough at the death of her own child.

The judge ordered sedation for a visibly upset Joanne and in this state, she took the stand to testify.

Joanne’s sole consolation was that from her tragedy grew support from women across the country. They rallied outside the court and sent Joanne yellow roses as a symbol of solidarity. They wrote letters and cards to her, detailing their own stories of suffering.

The support was solace for Joanne but justice eluded her.

In 1985, the tribunal absolved the police of wrongdoing. The officers central to the case were all eventually promoted.

But those officers never apologized.

She returned home to Abbeydorney and shrouded herself in a cloak of privacy. For 34 years, she has lived there, out of the limelight.

Baby John’s killer was never found.

For all these years, Catherine has carried the story of Baby John with her. At his grave, she dreams of the life he might have lived. Or not.

If contraception had been readily available, maybe he would have not been born at all. If society had allowed for a more open conversation about sex, he might still be alive. Maybe he would have grown to have a family of his own.

Catherine thinks about her own family.

She raised an 18-year-old daughter in a home without taboos, one that celebrated women. She raised her to become a woman no one would dare mess with.

Catherine wanted to make sure her daughter never experienced what she had.

She’d lost her innocence the day her father brought home Baby John’s body. She was shocked when she learned about Joanne and how she was treated, though, looking back, she realizes it was that moment that cemented her commitment to women’s rights.

Catherine never forgot that the blame in the Kerry babies case had fallen on a woman. No men were ever at fault.

Irish society has seen significant social changes since then. The Church has lost much of its moral authority, rocked by cases of scandal, sex abuse and the discovery of a mass grave of babies born out of wedlock in Tuam.

The small ripples of change that feminists won in the 1970s and ‘80s have since swollen into waves of protest on Ireland’s shores.

In 1992, the landmark X Case made it legal for Irish women to travel abroad for abortions, adding the threat of suicide as grounds for abortion.

In 2013, Savita Halappanavar died of sepsis after being denied a termination of a miscarrying fetus in a Galway hospital, prompting the government to pass a bill allowing abortions when a woman’s life is in danger.

And in January, 34 years after Joanne was wrongfully accused, the police finally issued her a formal apology. They admitted that DNA conclusively ruled that she could have not been Baby John’s mother. They also announced they would reopen the Baby John case.

But for Irish women like Catherine, none of it is enough.

No apology or monetary compensation, she believes, could ever make things right for Joanne.

Catherine realizes that Irish attitudes have changed. Still, she knows many people in Ireland remain reluctant to talk about the Kerry babies saga. And the tribunal transcripts remain restricted to the public.

“It’s about time for Ireland to wake up and shake itself and say this was wrong,” she says.

Catherine says she was too naive, too powerless then to realize she might have been able to put an end to what has been described as a “medieval witch-hunt.”

Brigid has come forward on her own volition and Walter Sullivan, the detective leading the new investigation, says it’s standard protocol to go back to everyone. That could include Catherine.

The police won’t comment on the case, except to refute the notion that only women are considered suspects. O’Sullivan says the renewed probe focuses on DNA samples that might help identify Baby John and his parents.

For many women here, a familiar pattern is again unfolding.

Ireland is again calling a referendum on abortion. And the pope is again scheduled for a visit. Only this time, his visit will come after the vote.

And this time, Catherine is certain Irish women are more aware of their rights than before.

They will have a chance to voice their opinions when they cast their votes in a May 25 abortion referendum, hailed by many, including the prime minister, as a critical step for women’s rights in Ireland.

While her nation stands poised to make history, Catherine spends her time in Cahersiveen, with her daughter and her ailing father. At 88, he has grown frail and is no longer able to look after Baby John’s grave.

The headstone has been destroyed several times and Catherine and her family are fearful that new interest in the Baby John case will once again bring trouble.

On this misty afternoon, Catherine plucks weeds poking out of the gravel, cleaning the grave as though it held one of her own.

Baby John would have been 34 this year.

As Catherine leaves the grave, she sees a plush bear sullied in the mud near the cemetery gate. Its knees are bent as in prayer, its eyes closed.

Ireland apologized to Joanne Hayes but Baby John never found his peace, Catherine believes. And without a fair investigation, he will never have that peace. She feels fairly sure the baby’s real mother still lives nearby. She hopes that woman can one day come forward without shame or fear.

“Our community is still dealing with a dark secret of the past,” she says.

The only way to move forward, Catherine believes, is to absolve the mother.

Then, perhaps, Baby John will be able to finally rest.

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snoobydoo · 7 years

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1-150

who the fuCK (thank u tho

1. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU HELD HANDS WITH? - my little sister!2. ARE YOU OUTGOING OR SHY? - id be pretty outgoing if i didnt have social anxiety but yeah,, im shy af3. WHO ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO SEEING? - AAA DREN IS COMING OUT IN THE SUMMER!! Allynah will also be hanging out with us for a bit while theyre here, too!! im so excited to hang out with both of them oml4. ARE YOU EASY TO GET ALONG WITH? - id hope so ? idk tho5. IF YOU WERE DRUNK WOULD THE PERSON YOU LIKE TAKE CARE OF YOU? - theyd probably be drunk too but yeah i think so? id probably take care of them more fhgdhf6. WHAT KIND OF PEOPLE ARE YOU ATTRACTED TO? - man,, fuck if i know,,, everyone, really?

7. DO YOU THINK YOU’LL BE IN A RELATIONSHIP TWO MONTHS FROM NOW? - fuCK NO lmao,, id love to be but its unrealistic8. WHO FROM THE OPPOSITE GENDER IS ON YOUR MIND? - opposite gender dbdsfdhgdsf9. DOES TALKING ABOUT SEX MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE? - it depends, really?? on like who im talking to and how in depth it is? casual mentions of it are chill with me but if its very specific like,, things they like and/or have done before im,, im good dude10. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU HAD A DEEP CONVERSATION WITH? - fuck idk11. WHAT DOES THE MOST RECENT TEXT THAT YOU SENT SAY? - ‘HELLO ILY’12. WHAT ARE YOUR 5 FAVORITE SONGS RIGHT NOW? - oh shit uhh probably?? Someone in the Crowd from La La Land, Under My Skin by Jukebox the Ghost, I Know by Tom Odell (even tho it makes me Sad? ????), LGBT by Cupcakke, and We’ll Meet Again by Vera Lynn13. DO YOU LIKE IT WHEN PEOPLE PLAY WITH YOUR HAIR? - YES but i always feel super self conscious about it too oh boy14. DO YOU BELIEVE IN LUCK AND MIRACLES? - nah15. WHAT GOOD THING HAPPENED THIS SUMMER? - uhh i cant remember last summer very well rip but this upcoming summer Dren is coming out here for two weeks!!! and thats a v good thing B)16. WOULD YOU KISS THE LAST PERSON YOU KISSED AGAIN? - lmao N/A17. DO YOU THINK THERE IS LIFE ON OTHER PLANETS? - hell yeh but its not as advanced as we are/hope18. DO YOU STILL TALK TO YOUR FIRST CRUSH? - lmfao no i lost contact in like 3rd grade rip19. DO YOU LIKE BUBBLE BATHS? - i havent had one in years so im not sure?20. DO YOU LIKE YOUR NEIGHBORS? - yeah they all seem really nice but ive never met any of them21. WHAT ARE YOUR BAD HABITS? - Everything I Do22. WHERE WOULD YOU LIKE TO TRAVEL? - ooh anywhere, really?? travelling seems so heckin cool. id love to go to Canada and Amsterdam and Italy n stuff,, just anywhere23. DO YOU HAVE TRUST ISSUES? - l m a o24. FAVORITE PART OF YOUR DAILY ROUTINE? - going to sleep25. WHAT PART OF YOUR BODY ARE YOU MOST UNCOMFORTABLE WITH? - everything26. WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN YOU WAKE UP? - dissociate and/or go back to sleep27. DO YOU WISH YOUR SKIN WAS LIGHTER OR DARKER? - eeh my skin is hella pale so if it was just a little bit darker thatd be chill B)28. WHO ARE YOU MOST COMFORTABLE AROUND? - uhh fuck idk probably Dren and Allynah?29. HAVE ANY OF YOUR EX’S TOLD YOU THEY REGRET BREAKING UP? - N/A lmao30. DO YOU EVER WANT TO GET MARRIED? - maybe?? im not sure31. IF YOUR HAIR LONG ENOUGH FOR A PONY TAIL? - yeah but some pieces dont fit in it32. WHICH CELEBRITIES WOULD YOU HAVE A THREESOME WITH? - no thanks my dude33. SPELL YOUR NAME WITH YOUR CHIN. - ksatre

34. DO YOU PLAY SPORTS? WHAT SPORTS? - im Super unathletic,, id like to play a sport but i dont. im struggling in p.e. lmao35. WOULD YOU RATHER LIVE WITHOUT TV OR MUSIC? - tv36. HAVE YOU EVER LIKED SOMEONE AND NEVER TOLD THEM? - haha yeah every damn time37. WHAT DO YOU SAY DURING AWKWARD SILENCES? - i just laugh or stay silent38. DESCRIBE YOUR DREAM GIRL/GUY? - okay this is gonna sound crazy but.. th- they Like Me Back,, i know, Whoa..39. WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE STORES TO SHOP IN? - Target ?? it just feels really familiar for some reason,, prob bc i used to go there a lot as a child40. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO AFTER HIGH SCHOOL? - die41. DO YOU BELIEVE EVERYONE DESERVES A SECOND CHANCE? - no42. IF YOUR BEING EXTREMELY QUIET WHAT DOES IT MEAN? - i dont have anything to say, im having a panic attack, or im holding in whatever i want to say43. DO YOU SMILE AT STRANGERS? - yeah!44. TRIP TO OUTER SPACE OR BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN? - SPACE45. WHAT MAKES YOU GET OUT OF BED IN THE MORNING? - i dont lol46. WHAT ARE YOU PARANOID ABOUT? - everything, my dude,, everything47. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN HIGH? - no48. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN DRUNK? - yes49. HAVE YOU DONE ANYTHING RECENTLY THAT YOU HOPE NOBODY FINDS OUT ABOUT? - no? i dont think so?50. WHAT WAS THE COLOUR OF THE LAST HOODIE YOU WORE? - black51. EVER WISHED YOU WERE SOMEONE ELSE? - constantly52. ONE THING YOU WISH YOU COULD CHANGE ABOUT YOURSELF? - Everything?53. FAVOURITE MAKEUP BRAND? - lol fuck if i know54. FAVOURITE STORE? - already answered above ?55. FAVOURITE BLOG? - i like that one blog that posts unflattering pictures of cats (im not gonna tag them tho rgdgfsdf)56. FAVOURITE COLOUR? - yellow57. FAVOURITE FOOD? - peaches or coffee tbh58. LAST THING YOU ATE? - cereal59. FIRST THING YOU ATE THIS MORNING? - cereal60. EVER WON A COMPETITION? FOR WHAT? - no i dont think so61. BEEN SUSPENDED/EXPELLED? FOR WHAT? - nope62. BEEN ARRESTED? FOR WHAT? - nope63. EVER BEEN IN LOVE? - fuq that, idk64. TELL US THE STORY OF YOUR FIRST KISS? - n/a

65. ARE YOU HUNGRY RIGHT NOW? - no66. DO YOU LIKE YOUR TUMBLR FRIENDS MORE THAN YOUR REAL FRIENDS? - what is the difference tho,, if we mean online vs offline then yes my online friends are better but theyre still my Real Friends ya feel67. FACEBOOK OR TWITTER? - twitter68. TWITTER OR TUMBLR? - tumblr69. ARE YOU WATCHING TV RIGHT NOW? - no70. NAMES OF YOUR BESTFRIENDS? - Dren, Allynah, Grace, Eli, Allison71. CRAVING SOMETHING? WHAT? - nope72. WHAT COLOUR ARE YOUR TOWELS? - we have a lot of different colors72. HOW MANY PILLOWS DO YOU SLEEP WITH? - two73. DO YOU SLEEP WITH STUFFED ANIMALS? - no74. HOW MANY STUFFED ANIMALS DO YOU THINK YOU HAVE? - none75. FAVOURITE ANIMAL? - cats76. WHAT COLOUR IS YOUR UNDERWEAR? - im too lazy to check77. CHOCOLATE OR VANILLA? - vanilla78. FAVOURITE ICE CREAM FLAVOUR? - mint chocolate chip for sure79. WHAT COLOUR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? - black80. WHAT COLOUR PANTS? - red81. FAVOURITE TV SHOW? - the walking dead probably82. FAVOURITE MOVIE? - CAPTAIN AMERICA: TFA83. MEAN GIRLS OR MEAN GIRLS 2? - theres a second one?84. MEAN GIRLS OR 21 JUMP STREET? - ive never seen 21 jump street,, so mean girls85. FAVOURITE CHARACTER FROM MEAN GIRLS? - DAMIAN86. FAVOURITE CHARACTER FROM FINDING NEMO? - Squirt87. FIRST PERSON YOU TALKED TO TODAY? - n/a88. LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO TODAY? - n/a89. NAME A PERSON YOU HATE? - m e90. NAME A PERSON YOU LOVE? - see #7091. IS THERE ANYONE YOU WANT TO PUNCH IN THE FACE RIGHT NOW? - ME92. IN A FIGHT WITH SOMEONE? - no93. HOW MANY SWEATPANTS DO YOU HAVE? - one pair i think?94. HOW MANY SWEATERS/HOODIES DO YOU HAVE? - two95. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? - if a musical counts, then Heathers. if not then i think how to train your dragon 2?96. FAVOURITE ACTRESS? - Lauren Cohan probably? idk97. FAVOURITE ACTOR? - andrew lincoln or chris evans98. DO YOU TAN A LOT? - nope99. HAVE ANY PETS? - YES i have four. three cats and one dog100. HOW ARE YOU FEELING? - sleepy101. DO YOU TYPE FAST? - yes102. DO YOU REGRET ANYTHING FROM YOUR PAST? - everything ??103. CAN YOU SPELL WELL? - fairly104. DO YOU MISS ANYONE FROM YOUR PAST? - yea105. EVER BEEN TO A BONFIRE PARTY? - we’ve had small parties with a little bonfire but ive never been to a BONFIRE PARTY,, i wish106. EVER BROKEN SOMEONE’S HEART? -probably not107. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ON A HORSE? - uhhh i dont remember?? maybe?108. WHAT SHOULD YOU BE DOING? - i actually have no obligations right now,, thank god109. IS SOMETHING IRRITATING YOU RIGHT NOW? - me110. HAVE YOU EVER LIKED SOMEONE SO MUCH IT HURT? - yeah i have bpd111. DO YOU HAVE TRUST ISSUES? - this was already asked112. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU CRIED IN FRONT OF? - my brother i think113. WHAT WAS YOUR CHILDHOOD NICKNAME? - just? Kate? or i think Petuna was one too114. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN OUT OF YOUR PROVINCE/STATE? - yeah115. DO YOU PLAY THE WII? - we had a wii one time but i only used it like twice116. ARE YOU LISTENING TO MUSIC RIGHT NOW? - i was but then it ended and now its just silent and i didnt even notice.. im gonna change the song117. DO YOU LIKE CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP? - yes118. DO YOU LIKE CHINESE FOOD? - yes119. FAVOURITE BOOK? - perks of being a wallflower120. ARE YOU AFRAID OF THE DARK? - i get paranoid yeh121. ARE YOU MEAN? - yeah122. IS CHEATING EVER OKAY? - no u piece of shit123. CAN YOU KEEP WHITE SHOES CLEAN? - no dgfsfs124. DO YOU BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT? - infatuation, maybe, but not love125. DO YOU BELIEVE IN TRUE LOVE? - no126. ARE YOU CURRENTLY BORED? - nah this is keeping me busy127. WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY? - being included128. WOULD YOU CHANGE YOUR NAME? - im not sure? probably not129. WHAT YOUR ZODIAC SIGN? - sagittarius130. DO YOU LIKE SUBWAY? - sure131. YOUR BESTFRIEND OF THE OPPOSITE SEX LIKES YOU, WHAT DO YOU DO? - opposite sex,, and heck, if anyone liked me id doubt it and/or panic132. WHO’S THE LAST PERSON YOU HAD A DEEP CONVERSATION WITH? - idk but this was also already asked133. FAVOURITE LYRICS RIGHT NOW? - I wanna take you somewhere so you know I careBut it’s so cold and I don’t know whereI brought you daffodils in a pretty stringBut they won’t flower like they did last spring134. CAN YOU COUNT TO ONE MILLION? - i could but i dont want to135. DUMBEST LIE YOU EVER TOLD? - i dont remember136. DO YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR DOORS OPEN OR CLOSED? - closed137. HOW TALL ARE YOU? - 5′6138. CURLY OR STRAIGHT HAIR? - i have curly hair139. BRUNETTE OR BLONDE? - im a brunette140. SUMMER OR WINTER? - summer141. NIGHT OR DAY? - day142. FAVOURITE MONTH? - october probably?143. ARE YOU A VEGETARIAN? - no but id like to try it some time144. DARK, MILK OR WHITE CHOCOLATE? - milk chocolate145. TEA OR COFFEE? - coffee but both are good146. WAS TODAY A GOOD DAY? - idk i just woke up147. MARS OR SNICKERS? - ive never had a mars bar so snickers?148. WHAT’S YOUR FAVOURITE QUOTE? - “you’re not a sad story. you are alive.”149. DO YOU BELIEVE IN GHOSTS? - idk150. GET THE CLOSEST BOOK NEXT TO YOU, OPEN IT TO PAGE 42, WHAT’S THE FIRST LINE ON THAT PAGE? - How can you use a topographic map to interpret information about an area?

thank u for these questions im sorry this post is so long dgdfgsffdquestions

#long post //#answers #anonymous

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