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colleenmurphy · 8 months

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"B...Bruce! Pull. Up! I SEE TREES! We almost HIT THAT EAGLE!"

Was all he heard from his terrified flight companion turned in flight entertainment. Her long dark hair was spilling down from it's plastic hair clip and her aviators were sliding down her nose as her hands waved wildly at the clear blue sky that matched her eyes. He couldn't help but grin a slow easy grin at her. She was truly his fish out of water today.

"Man...you're a mermaid, huh?"

"If I'm a mermaid then you're an albatross!"

The belly of the plane was mere inches from the pristine tree line as they roared along with the flight path of the local geese. He had to admit her hometown was a pretty little place. Pulling up they had a better view of some cozy houses along the coastline. In fact they buzzed Minnie's place as they spotted her in the back yard having a cigarette. He decided to show off a smidge and loop a hello before continuing on. The neighbor's grandson now things the Murphy house is the coolest place on earth.

He'd been born in Chicago, moved around to Indiana as a kid and then joined up to the Army on his 18th birthday. He'd been in Florida ever since after he'd come home from his three tours. The woman to his right was about ten years his junior, an internationally licensed boat captain named Mary Colleen Murphy, or Col as she preferred to be called. Currently marveling at the view her face lit up like a kid at Christmas. He could count the dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the fact that her eyes were now tinged a little spring green meant she's calmed down enough to enjoy herself. The fact that they could simply pack a bag and fly out to her hometown from their place in the Hatcher Keys blew her mind. To Bruce it was just another two hour flight that went smoothly.

"I can deal with being a bird. Here's the part you hate..."

He figured ample warning would help settle her stomach. She knew that the most critical time was during take off and landing, it still didn't help her body to know not to gag at an angle normally not achieved.

"I doubt I'll ever get my license. I've a feeling that's not looked kindly on during the final exam?"

Her dry reassurance to him that she was fine. They were traveling light this time, just some luggage and gifts for the family and friends she had to introduce him to. There had been talk to merging her mother's bar, The Gull's Nest and their place The Trade Winds but they had yet to put anything into writing. Minnie was setting to retire and move closer to her own mother in Miami so it only made sense to keep it in the family...unless Harvey Starling, Col's god father wanted first dibs at a turn key operation. Bruce knew Colleen would gladly do that over taking it over. Even though she lived down south nearly 1500 miles away she still cared about the town where she'd grown up.

"BVY tower, N2789 5 miles west, inbound for landing."

The crackle of the controller picking up filled his head. Whoever it was had a hell of a head cold.

"N2789 you're clear for landing. Welcome to Massachusetts."

"I can't just take it from them, Bruce. The Gull's Nest was built by my great grandfather when the town was founded. Second on the waterfront besides the old butcher and green grocer. Did you know the Starling's used to own that? That's how far back our families go...oh my god Harvey! Hel's florist shop is right there...perfect!"

He'd heard her last night as she'd packed for them both. He'd admitted to her that he didn't have a clue about packing for cold weather anymore so she had delighted in walking him through her process and parts of her family's backstory came out as she carefully rolled his shirts and pants up. She'd learned the military packing style. Bulky sweaters went on top to act as a cushion if you were bringing back souvenirs, or in Col's case, if you were bringing a stash of homegrown herb to share with your mother and best friends. Deep down his wife really was a pirate, even if she didn't realize it.

"Who taught you how to pack?"

"Chief Petty Officer James Murphy Sr."

Bruce caught a glimpse of a pirate smile ghost across his companion's face. All he could picture for a moment was his wife in a plumed buccaneers hat with a dainty silver dagger between her teeth. Perhaps he'd just given himself a new tattoo idea.

"He was a Navy man...then he came home became a cop and met my mom."

"All American boy."

"Guess you could say that. My mother was almost a nun until she met him."

"Damn beats Mel and Rita's story. She was a barmaid and he was bootlegger."

"Two sides of the same coin, Miller."

The tidy landing strip was fast approaching as the landing gear came out. Wheels touched down and all was well. Another one down in the flight logs.

In their combined down time from the bar they did flight and boat charters together under the Trade Wind Tours name for the tourists. They weren't above doing a favor to a friend or two with flying in goods. Colleen was going to be needed if his buddy Whit ever gave up his wings. She had also expressed an interest in doing angel flights for sick and needy children.

"You'd be surprised. My first time I puked out of a bird just straight up didn't care about anything except not wearing it. Bulls eye on an enemy from above. I can still see his face...I still feel bad about that."

"You were under heavy fire in a military war plane. Vastly different as I'm not open and exposed."

Reaching out to pat his jean clad thigh she sighed.

"You'd be amazed at people can forgive. I'm sure you were the least of his worries back then. You both just wanted to get home."

He'd forgotten she'd been a nurse and just how deeply her compassion ran. He smirked and patted her back as they pulled upwards

"If it makes you feel better I get sea sick."

A deep chortle sounded in his head that warmed him.

"Always keep above deck where you can see the horizon and get fresh air or keep to the middle of the boat."

He heard the snicking flick of her lighter.

"You forget we're still in an airspace?"

"Nope. But I figured out my window. Until they come out with a flameless option I'm sticking with hand rolls. Helps my stomach and in all honesty I think you may need some when we're on solid ground. You're wide eyed and your eyebrows are touching your hairline. I love you, Minnie loves you...my Grandmother loves you, Harvey and Helene are going to adore you too."

Directing towards the hangar Bruce shook his head.

"The last thing I need to do is meet the town chief of police smelling like your home grown, Col."

Wide innocent eyes met his as she held out the joint with a smile. Her next sentence made his face fall momentarily.

"But he's my god father...and I know the perfect spot."

Nimble tanned hands rolled two more joints as they were directed into the proper hangar by the ground crew, a rather an elderly portly white haired fellow wearing safety orange muffs with 'Willy' stitched into his green coveralls. Waving his sticks he looked almost like a Yankee blue collar ballerina. A thankful two finger wave and they had some privacy.

"Thanks Willy!"

Colleen called as she hopped out earning a Roebucker smile her way, Willy's teeth matched his shocking white hair before he hobbled back into the warmth of the hangar office. Col had grabbed her small shoulder bag and her flash light before taking off out of sight. Giving him a bird whistle he saw her crook her finger from inside what looked like a solid tree line.

"Join me on a side quest brave traveller."

Snow crunched under their feet as he followed Colleen. She evidently knew exactly where they were going to end up. A twisting path lead to a rough stone walking path the lead to a rumbling sound.

"Watch your step here..."

Her left hand reached out to touch a large pine tree with 'HS + JL' carved into the bark and it made him smile to see her reconnect with a tangible object from her past. The initials were newly carved into the bark, especially the JL. From the look on Col's face HS finally found a love well deserved.

"Where...what...wow."

Looming overhead was a weather beaten lighthouse sitting at the mouth of the harbor. It's light cutting through the fog that was setting in. Between the two of them they'd planned the timing perfectly.

"This is Tortoise Harbor light...or Turtle Point. I've mentioned it a few times in my stories of home but well...this used to be our secret spot. Me and Helene Starling. A little birdie told me that there's still heat in it."

Knocking the snow from their boots they ventured into and up to the top of the ancient lighthouse on the point. Outside the winds had picked up and the sound of rain was almost indistinguishable against the sound of the surf hitting the rocky coastline.

"We used to come up here all the time watching for our Dads when they sailed away or came back in. I guess it was our clubhouse...in some way it still is."

The very top held a battered fold out couch upholstered in a rather interesting shade of pea soup green and outfitted with numerous blankets and throw pillows. A handmade three tier shelf held ancient paperbacks along with a wire spool coffee table with bar ashtray advertising 'the regal taste of Reinhardt beer'. tucked to the left hand side by the railing away from the light. The floor below still held a snug little alcove with a lamp and a few layered feather beds for the nights that were especially tough going home.

"We used to have a working kitchen and bathroom downstairs but that's been boarded up since we were in our 20's. That's the past though."

Settling herself down onto the couch she sighed before inviting him to sit down as she lit the joint. He'd have wondered what she looked like young and carefree and unscarred but she seemed to bloom before him. Healed and restored. The smell of her homegrown hit him right between the eyes and he smiled as curled in next to him. The storm raging outside as they flew higher together allowing their inner teenagers to bond for the first time.

#Trade Winds verse #Colleen Murphy x Bruce Miller #The Mermaid & The Albatross

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residents-of-the-darkforest · 2 years

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Dark Forest Resident: Cedarwhisper

Aliases / Nicknames: Cedarstar

Gender: demiboy (he/they)

Sexuality: graysexual-ace (feels attraction, but not often)

Family: Lynxstone (mother), Brackenpurr (father)

Other Relations: Sunpaw (apprentice)

Clan: Gladeclan

Rank: deputy

Characteristics: unemotive, constantly stone-faced, rarely breaks composure but has his anger spots, prefers to do things alone, apathetic to others

Number of Victims: 3

Number of Murders: 2

Murder Method: slitting throats

Known Victims: Woolstar, Hillpaw, Kindlepaw

Victim Profile: his leader, two apprentices who witnessed his crime

Cause of Death: fell into fire, burned alive, killed by Kindlepaw

Cautionary Tale: N/A

Story:

Change was the most important thing in the world. That is what Cedarwhisper kept believing all throughout his life.

As cats died, he only noted that this was change in the world. As he went hunting, he’d note how this would change which prey would be where. Squirrels would move when they noticed cats, and make nests elsewhere. Birds would not lay eggs if they are killed too early. This was all change. Everything would change at a moment’s notice, and Cedarwhisper knew he was susceptible to that.

But he refused to let himself fall subject to change taking him by surprise.

If he had friends, he could lose them at a moment’s notice. So, he kept his distance from his Clanmates, regarding them all as acquaintances. He kept his schedule to a constant, keeping note of every little thing he did that would go against his norm. He refused to let others help him, not wanting changes to how he did things.

Woolstar was a kind old tom, maybe even too kind.

Maybe that’s why he had been given Sunpaw as an apprentice. The tortie tom was questioning and expressive, practically oblivious to everything going on outside of the Gladeclan camp. It was a change for Cedarwhisper, and he found the tom annoying but bearable. The two’s relationship was not ideal, but it was not negative.

Change struck once again when Silkthorn, the former deputy, stepped down. She couldn’t continue her duties any longer due to old age, and Cedarwhisper stepped up to take her place. Cedarwhisper made sure that the Clan stayed in line, something Woolstar didn’t seem to want to do.

Woolstar let the Clan run around like excited kits, letting them slack off through the day when they could be training their apprentices or setting out borders to keep rogues out. He tried to encourage Cedarwhisper to break schedule, to relax every once in a while, but Cedarwhisper refused, not wanting change to get the better of him.

Cedarwhisper kept trying to keep the Clan in line, which earned him the disdain of some of his younger Clanmates. Of course they wouldn’t understand how his brain worked, why would they? It all seemed to be fruitless efforts, with the Clan continuing on as if Cedarwhisper never stepped up as deputy. The Clan would die out eventually, but he needed to delay that.

Changes needed to happen.

Cedarwhisper, one night, came to discuss things with Woolstar. How the Clan was unorderly, needed proper guidance and schedule. And Woolstar’s reaction to this advice? To just laugh it off, and tell Cedarwhisper he couldn’t control the way the cats acted.

He knew this! But he can encourage a change of schedule! It felt like he was talking to a stone wall, his voice getting more strained and strained until eventually, he stomped a paw down to leave. He realized that his paw happened to be covered in blood, and he blinked slowly as he stared at Woolstar’s bleeding out body, a large wound in his fluffy neck.

He did that.

He’d have to step up as leader, causing yet another change to his schedule-- one he welcomed.The Clan would finally be able to thrive under his guidance. Only, he froze and slowly turned as he heard a shuffling noise.

Hillpaw, grandson of Woolstar. The fluffy, brown-and-white tom stared at him with wide eyes. He couldn’t have witnesses.

Changes needed to happen. Changes needed to happen. Changes needed to happen. He repeated that mantra to himself as he dug his claws into yet another neck, and when he had to deal with the other witness who happened to charge in and bite down on his back. Kindlepaw. But unfortunately, she had gotten away. Quickly composing himself, Cedarwhisper rushed off to remove evidence of his inclusion with the murder of the two toms, blaming it on a rogue attack.

He almost regretted making those changes from the mournful yowls of Hillpaw’s parents, but he knew he needed to continue onwards. As he headed to the Cavern of Stars, he felt a prick of anxiety at his paws. What if his crimes were exposed there? Would he need to get rid of the medicine cat, too?

As he thought about how he could do such a thing, the sky clouded over and started to rain. When they tried to start the ceremony, Cedarwhisper was only welcomed by blackness, and a broken star on his forehead when he awoke.

He tried to ignore the feeling of his stomach dropping as he understood what message Starclan was sending. He tried to send out search patrols for Kindlepaw so he could....properly deal with the loose apprentice, but nobody ever found her.

That is, not until a fire started up in Gladeclan, where Kindlepaw found him first. In a bloody fight, Kindlepaw sent them both careening down into the flames with the last of her strength, and Cedarwhisper suddenly came to the realization that perhaps, he had ruined himself as the flames swallowed him whole.

Additional Information:

--Submission by @umbranoxs

--Despite being rather thin looking, he’s pretty strong and well muscled.

--I (Umbra) was listening to “Open up your eyes” while making this backstory so that’s where his whole thing about doing things himself and not wanting friends came from. Neat!

--Cedarwhisper doesn’t care if you refer to him as -whisper or -star. He refers to himself as Cedarstar, but sometimes accidentally slips up and calls himself Cedarwhisper.

--Woolstar just wanted Cedar to lighten up a little- He hoped that having his own apprentice and getting to see the Clan from the eyes of a deputy would make him understand others more. It didn’t work.

--Unaware Kindlepaw went to the Dark Forest, he would be mildly surprised if he knew but make a note to try not to find her- He has a feeling he knows it’d end with bloodshed and he’d prefer not to kill her. (Yes, he would kill her if she tried to attack him).

--Trying to find a spot of the Dark Forest he can have to himself, so he doesn’t have to deal with others. He’d like the eternal solitude (he thinks).

--Bastard boy bastard.

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coldteaxspilledink · 7 months

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The Mermaid & The Albatross

Trade Winds Verse: Bruce Miller x Colleen Murphy

"B...Bruce! Pull. Up! I SEE TREES! We almost HIT THAT EAGLE!"

"Man...you're a mermaid, huh?"

"If I'm a mermaid then you're an albatross!"

"I can deal with being a bird. Here's the part you hate..."

"I doubt I'll ever get my license. I've a feeling that's not looked kindly on during the final exam?"

"BVY tower, N2789 5 miles west, inbound for landing."

The crackle of the controller picking up filled his head. Whoever it was had a hell of a head cold.

"N2789 you're clear for landing. Welcome to Massachusetts."

"Who taught you how to pack?"

"Chief Petty Officer James Murphy Sr."

"He was a Navy man...then he came home became a cop and met my mom."

"All American boy."

"Guess you could say that. My mother was almost a nun until she met him."

"Damn beats Mel and Rita's story. She was a barmaid and he was bootlegger."

"Two sides of the same coin, Miller."

The tidy landing strip was fast approaching as the landing gear came out. Wheels touched down and all was well. Another one down in the flight logs.

"You were under heavy fire in a military war plane. Vastly different as I'm not open and exposed."

Reaching out to pat his jean clad thigh she sighed.

"You'd be amazed at people can forgive. I'm sure you were the least of his worries back then. You both just wanted to get home."

He'd forgotten she'd been a nurse and just how deeply her compassion ran. He smirked and patted her back as they pulled upwards

"If it makes you feel better I get sea sick."

A deep chortle sounded in his head that warmed him.

"Always keep above deck where you can see the horizon and get fresh air or keep to the middle of the boat."

He heard the snicking flick of her lighter.

"You forget we're still in an airspace?"

Directing towards the hangar Bruce shook his head.

"The last thing I need to do is meet the town chief of police smelling like your home grown, Col."

Wide innocent eyes met his as she held out the joint with a smile. Her next sentence made his face fall momentarily.

"But he's my god father...and I know the perfect spot."

"Thanks Willy!"

"Join me on a side quest brave traveller."

Snow crunched under their feet as he followed Colleen. She evidently knew exactly where they were going to end up. A twisting path lead to a rough stone walking path the lead to a rumbling sound.

"Watch your step here..."

"Where...what...wow."

"We used to come up here all the time watching for our Dads when they sailed away or came back in. I guess it was our clubhouse...in some way it still is."

"We used to have a working kitchen and bathroom downstairs but that's been boarded up since we were in our 20's. That's the past though."

#Trade Winds verse#Colleen Murphy x Bruce Miller#The Mermaid & The Albatross

#Trade Winds verse #OC Writing / Characters #Bruce Miller x Colleen Murphy

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gardenofkore · 2 years

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And yet Heaven’s providential intervention stepped in; since the still free mind of Prince Don Cesare couldn’t grasp a greater gift was yet to come. And this bird-catcher fooled by hope, instead of an escaped dove, managed to catch a Phoenyx. This was indeed Donna Luisa di Luna e Vega, daughter of Pietro Duke of Bivona, who by marrying Don Cesare, not only brought to her husband’s House her father’s Duchy, and the lands of the House of Peralta, already englobed by those of de Luna’s, but then with the marriages of her son and grandson, poured in the Moncada’s possessions, the titles and riches of two other illustrious lineages, that of Aragona and Cardona, with the Duchy of Montalto and the County of Collesano.

Hence, like that Arabian bird, which it is obsequiously followed by other birds wherever it flies, likewise she brought with her a magnificent procession of many estates in the House where she nested.

Giovanni Agostino della Lengueglia, Ritratti della prosapia et heroi Moncadi nella Sicilia: opera historica-encomiastica, p.559-560 [my translation]

Aloisia (or Luisa) was born in Bivona (nearby Agrigento) around 1553. She was the firstborn of Pietro Giulio de Luna Salviati, Duke of Bivona, Earl of Caltabellotta and of Sclafani, and his first wife, the Spanish Doña Isabel de Vega y Osório. The baby girl was named after her paternal grandmother, Luisa Salviati de' Medici. In fact, through her father, Aloisia descended from Lorenzo il Magnifico de' Medici, who was her great-great-grandfather. On her mother’s side, on the other hand, she was the granddaughter of Juan de Vega y Enriquez, who had been Viceroy of Navarre and later of Sicily (also the one who brought Jesuits in Sicily). Aloisia had two younger sisters, Bianca and Eleonora, and a half-brother, Giovanni, born in 1563, out of Pietro's second marriage to Ángela de la Cerda y Manuel, daughter of Juan de la Cerda, IV Duke of Medinaceli and Viceroy of Sicily from 1557 to 1564.

In 1568, Aloisia married Cesare Moncada Pignatelli, Prince of Paternò, Earl of Adernò and of Caltanissetta, a decade older than her, in Caltabellotta. The union between the two had been planned by Juan de la Cerda, the bride's step-grandfather. Cesare was indeed supposed to marry his cousin, Giovanna de Marinis (daughter of his aunt Stefania), but marriages between noble families were delicate matters and needed the Viceroy's approval as well as (sometimes) the Papal dispensation in case of seventh grade parentage. The Moncadas were an incredibly wealthy and noble family. They owed their fortune mainly to Guglielmo Raimondo Moncada Earl of Agosta who, in 1379, had kidnapped Queen Maria I of Sicily and brought her to Spain where she married her cousin Martino. To thank him for his support, King Pedro IV of Aragon (the Queen’s maternal grandfather) had named Guglielmo Raimondo Royal Counselor and Justiciar of the Kingdom of Sicily. From 1565, the Moncadas were able to add to their titles that of Princes of Paternò, plus managed to exchange Augusta for Caltanissetta, thus saving tons of money since Augusta, differently from Caltanissetta, was a maritime city, which was often the victim of pirates’ raidings and needed to be constantly defenced (which entailed great expenses). De la Cerda used his influence to mess up the Moncadas’ original wedding plans (angering thus the groom’s family) and proposed the union with the de Luna, with whom the Moncadas were distantly related and therefore had needed the Pope’s blessing.

Aloisia would give birth to two children: Isabella (who would die an infant) and Francesco (ca. 1569-1592). Her marital life would be cut short as Cesare would suddenly die in Paternò on July 30th 1571, after only three years of marriage.

Little Francesco, now Francesco II, would be officially appointed of his late father’s titles the following year and placed under the guardianship of his maternal grandfather, Pietro de Luna, and his paternal uncle, Fabrizio Moncada (first husband of famous portrait painter Sofonisba Anguissola). Seven years later, Fabrizio would die in a pirate attack off the coast near Capri and some would talk about it not being an accident and about rumours of Fabrizio being headed to Spain to denounce his sister-in-law’s meddlings in the management of the Moncada’s patrimony.

Gossipers aside, it’s documented Aloisia took personal care in the education of her son and short-lived daughter. She began Francesco to study law, philosophy, literature and maths, as well as more artistic subjects like painting and sculpting.

Aloisia was the one who actively ruled over her son’s lands, showing a great deal of resourcefulness and managerial skills. Holding steady in her mind the idea of strengthening her (and by result her son’s) position, on September 17th, 1577, in Monreale, she married Antonio d’Aragona Cardona, Duke of Montalto and himself a widower. By concession of the Viceroy Marcantonio II Colonna, Aloisia obtained to keep acting as her son’s guardian without having to cede the role to her new husband or someone else.

Antonio d’Aragona too belonged to a prominent family, being a grandson of Ferrante d’Aragona Guardato, founder of the Line of the Dukes of Montalto and illegitimate child of Ferdinando I of Naples. Antonio’s first wife had been María de la Cerda y Manuel de Portugal, daughter of Juan de la Cerda y Silva, 4th Duke of Medinaceli as well as a Grandee of Spain, Viceroy of Sicily and Viceroy of Navarre during his long political career. From his first marriage, only his daughter Maria had reached adulthood as little Ferdinando died as an infant.

Aloisia bore Antonio a daughter, Bianca Antonia, who would later marry Giuseppe Ventimiglia Ventimiglia, II Prince of Castelbuono and IX Marquis of Geraci, and be the mother of Francesco III Ventimiglia d’Aragona, who would be offered (but not accept) the Crown of the Kingdom of Sicily during the anti-Spanish revolt of 1647.

The Duke of Montalto died in Naples on February 8th, 1584, on the route to quell a riot in the Flanders (the so called Dutch War of Independence) by virtue of his role of Captain General of the Spanish Cavalry in the Flanders. Leaving no male heir, all his titles and possessions passed to his eldest daughter, Maria.

Aloisia didn’t lose time to grieve for her husband as she swiftly arranged the marriage between her son Francesco and her step-daughter, the new Duchess of Montalto. The wedding took place on March 12th 1585 and the following year Francesco received maritali nomine the endowment of the Duchy of Montalto the Earldom of Collesano and all the lands owned by his wife’s family, bringing the total to thirteen of the fiefs owned by the Moncada.

On August 1592, Aloisia’s half-brother, Giovanni died childless, so as his eldest sister and heir, on September 30th she was endowed of the baronies of Scillato and Regaleali. She also inherited many fiefs in the area of Caltavuturo and Sclafani. From her court in Caltanissetta, she kept cleverly administering her possessions as well as the lands acquired through both of her late husbands (she generally rented her lands to foreigners, mostly Genoese and Pisans). She invited the Jesuits in Caltanissetta, had many churches and religious centre of the area built, she restored the city’s Cathedral. Aloisia took particular interest in having the Moncada’s libri di famiglia (books used to register one family’s commercial activity as well as key events in the lives of its family members, particularly common from XIII to XVI century) perfectly catalogued and maintained. She introduced and commissioned many artists and was perhaps the one who called back her sister-in-law Sofonisba Anguissola who, at that time, lived in Genova with her second husband, and who starting 1615 returned in Sicily where she would die.

Those who visited her, were rendered almost speechless about the magnificence of her court. During a visit in 1598 of the Viceroy and Vicereine, Bernardino de Cárdenas y Portugal and his wife Luisa Manrique de Lara, the Duchess had, in that occasion, surpassed herself. Aloisia had, in fact, arranged the area where she would receive her guests (at her own expenses), the forest of Mimiani, so perfectly and with so many tents, one would have thought you were in an actual city. Her guests were so pleased, the Vicereine gifted her of a splint of the Holy Cross kept in a display case ornated by precious stones.

Aloisia was also particularly generous. She did a lot of charity (and passed on the same generous disposition to her son and grandson), but made it through the nuns, ordering them to keep quiet about her being the one who sent the money, so that people would rather thank the Heaven for the celestial gift. She must have thought that public displays of charity didn’t have as an aim to help people, but rather that some benefactors did it for themselves since they took pleasure to hear their names be acclaimed for their generosity. During a terrible famine, when poor people were so hungry they ate grass and pasture, she used her personal income to provide for her people, so that at that time in her lands mortality rate was very low. She was also particularly mindful to guarantee that poor girls wouldn’t find themselves forced by misery to undertake a dishonourable life, granting them means to do honourable marriages. On the other hand, the Duchess didn’t skirt from regularly sending generous gifts to ministers and potentates, so that when at the right time, she could count on their support.

On May 23rd, 1592, a 23 year-old Francesco II Moncada died of malaria in Adernò (nearby Catania). Although it must have been extremely heartbreaking to lose her beloved son, Aloisia braced herself and took on the task of properly raising, together with her daughter-in-law, her 4 years-old grandson, Antonio. Since the child was also Donna Maria’s heir, in accordance with his parents’ marriage settlements, it had been stipulated he would take as first his mother’s surname and be styled as Antonio II d’Aragona Moncada de Luna.

The little Prince grew up together with his younger brother Cesare (the other brother, Giovanni, had died a child) in his family’s palace in Caltanissetta, closely watched over by their grandmother and mother (although, at ten, he seriously risked drowning in a cistern, while playing with his brother, and was saved thanks to Cesare’s cries for help which alerted Aloisia and Maria). From a young age, Antonio had been betrothed to Juana de la Cerda y de la Cueva, daughter of Juan de la Cerda, VI Duke of Medinaceli and his first wife Ana de la Cueva and at that time her father’s only heir.

The Duke of Medinaceli was in particular eager to have this marriage celebrated and already thought of Antonio as a son of his own. Since the young Moncada kept delaying his journey to Spain in order to marry, the Duke of Medinaceli somewhat grew tired and got married a second time (although he hadn’t thought of remarrying previously). Unfortunately for Juana, her step-mother, Antonia de Toledo Dávila y Colonna, would in 1607 give birth to a son, Antonio Juan Luis, who would surpass his sister and would one day inherit their father’s titles and possessions.

Although, understandably, organising a quasi-royal marriage all the way to Spain, complete with a long voyage to reach it, was indeed a big and long deal, that missed chance was perhaps Aloisia’s only mistake. If only they had moved faster, and Juana had succeeded her father, Moncada’s riches might have reached legendary status.

The delay was due to the fact that the old Duchess had also insisted to travel to Spain, accompanied by her daughter-in-law, Maria, and her two young granddaughters, Isabella and Luisa, with the hope of finding suitable matches for the girls among the Spanish aristocracy, and for that every aspect of the journey had to be perfect (Isabella would die young, while Louisa would marry in 1612 Eugenio de Padilla Manrique, III Count of Gadea). The Moncadas had to arrive in Spain with the pomp and grandeur (Aloisia must have thought) they deserved. Worryngly, as they reached Naples and stopped for a break, the groom grew sick and had to be treated by the best doctors before he could resume the voyage.

The marriage between Antonio Moncada and Juana de la Cerda took place in 1607 and it seems like it was a successful union, with the couple living harmoniously together in Spain for the first years, then settling in Collesano, near Palermo and part of Antonio’s possessions. While in Spain, the new Duchess gave birth to a son, Francesco, in 1613, who would be followed by Sicilian born Luigi Guglielmo (1614), Marianna (1616), and Ignazio (1619).

In 1610, Maria d’Aragona de la Cerda, Dowager Princess of Paternò died, leaving her mother-in-law Aloisia as the sole matriarch of the family.

In 1626, the young Francesco, Antonio II’s heir, would feel ill and die (and his siblings almost followed him) while both of his parents were in Spain to attend their courtly duties. Full of pain and regrets, Antonio and Juana would obtain the dissolution of their marriage and they both would take the cloth, becoming one a Jesuit and the other an Augustinian nun. Following his father’s resignation, 13 years-old Luigi Guglielmo became the new Prince and head of the Moncada family.

But Donna Aloisia would be spared of these sorrows as she died in Palermo in 1620, at 67. She would be buried in her Caltanissetta, in the Church of Santa Maria Assunta, which would be turned into a hospital in the XIX century, and which already housed the grave of her son Francesco II.

Sources

Antognelli Enrica, LUISA MONCADA Una Grande Donna del Rinascimento Siciliano

De la Cerda. Duques de Medinaceli

della Lengueglia Giovanni Agostino, Ritratti della prosapia et heroi Moncadi nella Sicilia: opera historica-encomiastica, p.557- 672

Le foto che raccontano il passato di Bivona

Palumbo Valeria, La Sicilia celebra la potentissima Aloisia de Luna Vega

Silva Alfonso Franco, EL DUCADO DE MONTALTO - NOTAS SOBRE LOS SEÑORIOS ITALIANOS DE MEDINA SIDONIA

Storia e Arte

#women #history #historicwomendaily #historical women #women in history #aloisia de luna vega #House of Moncada #House De Luna #caltanissetta #province of caltanissetta #aragonese-spanish sicily #people of sicily #women of sicily #myedit #historyedit #Francesco II Moncada de Luna #Antonio II d'Aragona Moncada

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fangirlshrieks · 3 years

Text

Spring Break part 2

a/n: Thank you to everyone who liked my story. I'm very excited for you to read part 2. Also there will now be 3 parts. I am new here and didn't know that there was a word limit to my posts so expect a third part. I also forgot to mention this is basically a self insert of me, but aren't all Y/N stories self inserts. Anyway I hope you enjoy.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Word count: 6,326

Pairings: Neville Longbottom x female reader

Warnings: smut!, fluff!, mentions of plant boy's insecurities, mentions of nudity.

The lake house had actually been in the countryside of London and a little farther from your home than you had expected. Because of this you were not so surprised when Neville's grandmother had sent an owl saying to pack an overnight bag. She obviously trusted you and her grandson to act responsibly during this trip but you were secretly thankful for her naivety.

The weather had been forecasted to be cloudy and rainy that week so there was much hope to spend most of your time indoors secluded from everyone but that would only add suspicion. You would have to come up with a better plan.

You had arrived at the adorable two story house at about 11 in the morning. You wore your old rain boots perfect for the weather and your jeans were tucked into your boots. Your coat wrapped tightly around you keeping you warm along with the knitted sweater you wore underneath.

You walked up to the porch that seemed to wrap around the entire house. You knocked on the front door. No answer. You checked to see if it was the right address. It was. Then you rang the doorbell and heard footsteps rushing to the door.

Neville swung the door open and smiled once he saw it was you.

"Y/N you're here!"

"Hi Neville." You said, giving him a firm hug. He gave you a peck on the lips before letting go.

"Oh wait, before you go in make sure to wipe your shoes. Gran made it very clear to me that I would be dead by morning if the carpet got dirty."

He saw something behind you and looked over your shoulder. "Oh you brought a bag?" He raised his eyebrow in confusion.

"Yeah, didn't your gran tell you that she asked me to spend the night? You know this place is not as close to my home as I thought." You said as you wiped your boots on the welcoming floor mat.

"She hasn't actually. I guess this is a surprise?" He didn't know what intentions his grandmother had with allowing you to spend the night but it made him a bit nervous.

Neville grabbed your lugged and let you in, closing the door behind you.

"Gran Y/N's here." He called out for his grandmother as he carried your luggage to the living room.

"Oh she's here!" Augusta Longbottom said from the kitchen. She ran out the kitchen along with the women who owned the lake house.

"Hello Mrs. Longbottom" you greeted Augusta with a smile and hug.

"Hello my darling." She returned your smile and hug.

"Oh she is very pretty." The lady next to her stated.

A blush crept on your cheeks at the complement. "Thank you."

"I told you." Augusta replied to her friend. "Y/N this is my dear friend Nancy Evans. We used to go to Hogwarts together."

You extended your hand towards Nancy. "Nice to meet you Ms. Evans."

"Why hello Y/N. I have heard so much about you in the past week, especially from Neville. And can I just say you are just a beautiful young girl." She turned towards Neville. "Neville you are truly a lucky boy."

Neville smiled bashfully at her remark. "Yes."

"Neville, why don't you take Y/N's luggage to the extra guest bedroom down here." Augusta ordered Neville. He did as he was told and went to the bedroom.

"Y/N why don't you go unpack your things and meet us in the kitchen when you are done." Augusta stated.

"Sure" and with that you followed Neville into your room.

"Wow this place is awesome!" you exclaimed as you entered the room taking off your coat and placing it on the bed.

Neville jumped a little having not heard you follow him in the room. "Oh yeah it's great but all I've been able to do is walk around the lake by myself." He laughed a little. "There's not much to do. But grand has been having the time of her life getting back together with Ms. Evans."

"Yeah?" you asked, opening your suitcase on the bed and unpacking. "What do they even talk about?"

"It's not what they talk about, it's who they talk about. They mostly catch up on gossip. I even caught Gran talking about me once when I was walking into the kitchen. I couldn't believe it. They even changed the subject when I entered the room. Unbelievable." He rolled his eyes at his grandmother's gossiping habit.

"What did they say about you?"

"I don't really know. But I can tell it was something embarrassing by the way they both tried to stop laughing once I left."

"It must have been something from when you were little then." You teased.

He just glared at you sarcastically.

"What? I love when your gran tells me about your childhood. Even more when she has pictures to go along with the story." You place your clothes into the empty drawers.

He blushed furiously at your comment. You smiled up at him and wrapped your arms around his waist. You loved the effect you had on him.

"Come on let's go to the kitchen before they start getting suspicious." You raised your eyebrow teasingly. You didn't expect your words to affect him as much as they did.

He was even more red and he began to sweat a little. Although you were not sure if that was due to his knit sweater more than your words.

The real reason was because he had been thinking about you all week before you had arrived. He was a little more relaxed knowing that you would only be staying for the day but as soon as he found out you would be spending the night he became increasingly nervous.

"I'm only kidding" You gave him a worried look. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm fINne…." His voice cracked and he coughed clearing his throat. "I'm fine." He stated a little quietly.

"Ok." You gave him a questioning look. You felt as if there was something he wasn't telling you but right now we not a good time to bring it up. "Should we go?" You pointed towards the direction of the kitchen.

He nodded a yes refusing to speak fearing that he would just embarrass himself more. You intertwined your fingers with his and led him to the kitchen. Upon entering the kitchen the two of you stood awkwardly by the middle island. That's when Augusta heard you walk in and turned towards you.

"Oh dear, I'm terribly sorry but me and Nancy had made plans to go see a play in the city." Augusta stated unapologetically.

"Yes, we will be meeting an old friend who lives in the city nearby. He invited us to go see a new musical of some kind." Nancy added.

"Yes and I'm afraid we will have to push our picnic to tomorrow. Is that alright?" Augusta asked.

"Oh that's perfectly fine with me. I hope you enjoy yourself." You gave her a smile.

"Such a sweet girl." Augusta returned your smile.

"I can show you all the cool plants I found by the lake if you'd like?" Neville asked beside you.

You smiled brightly at him and nodded a yes.

"Great now that that's settled we will be leaving in about 20 minutes. He sent his flying carriage to come pick us up." Augusta and Nancy got up and headed towards the living room to grab their bags.

"Isn't that so nice of Henry" Nancy stated.

The two ladies began to chat about their city friend Henry. You were amused by their constant chattering.

"I wished they had told me about this. Sounds like they had been planning to leave me by myself." Neville whispered to you.

"At least we'll have the house to ourselves." You gave him a discrete wink, which made him flustered. You laughed at your boyfriend's embarrassment. It was becoming more and more easy for you to rattle him recently. You definitely needed to talk to him once the older ladies left.

"Neville" Augusta called from the living room.

"Yes Gran." Neville rushed to meet his grandmother in the living room. You followed not far behind.

"Neville if you and Y/N go out, do not track in mud in the house. Do you understand? It would be embarrassing for me to have to explain to Nancy why her white carpet was completely ruined by my grandson. You know this carpet was imported from a wizard in Russia. It takes a special kind of magic to clean it." She ran on a tangent.

"Yes ma'am." Neville answered her.

"Mrs. Longbottom I promise we won't get a single drop of mud on this carpet." You piped in.

"Good." Augusta was more relaxed with your input. She trusted you to keep the place clean but was wary about Neville. "We'll be back by 8pm. Knowing Henry he will have a whole day's worth of events planned."

She waved goodbye to the two of you as she entered the carriage and flew off to the city. The two of you sat on the porch steps watching the carriage fly out of sight and into the gloomy clouds.

"Do you want to go out to the lake?" Neville asked.

You sighed to yourself pretending to think. "Yeah" you said, smiling at him.

The two of you got up and walked hand in hand around the house and towards the lake. There was a bit of awkward silence as you walked through the forest. You wanted to ask what was wrong and why he was so fidgety all of a sudden. You felt like your constant teasing was making him uncomfortable. You were about to ask but he spoke first.

"Look, a bird's nest" He pointed up at the tree. There was a blue bird in the nest resting cozily.

"Awe. It's so cute." You smiled up at Neville who was still looking at the bird. You found his child-like admiration for the bird adorable.

As you got closer to the lake it got colder and started sprinkling. Neville stopped to point out some of the plants he had never seen before. It honestly felt like an educational field trip but you didn't mind because you were absolutely in love with the teacher. This went on until you reached the lake.

You had walked under a particular low tree right by the edge of the lake. When Neville followed you. His tall stature had caused a few leaves to get caught in his hair. You noticed them when you turned around to ask him about a plant you had found in the water.

"You got something in your hair." You smiled up at him and reached to get the leaves out of his hair. He stepped closer to you so that your faces were mere inches away from one another.

"There" you whispered once you got the last leaf out of his hair.

The way his doe eyes looked at you like you were the most beautiful person in the world made you weak in the knees. You couldn't help but lean in for a kiss. His lips were soft to the touch and warm compared to the rest of his body, which was cold from the rainy breeze. You abruptly stepped back and devilishly smiled at him. You ran away quickly, daring him to come chase you.

"Wait that's not fair." He called out to you as he began running after you.

He eventually caught up to you and wrapped his arms around your middle and lifted you up, spinning in a circle as he did. You both laughed at your childish ways. When he put you down you turned around and he pulled you in for a passionate kiss. His hands were on your hips while you cupped the side of his face. Neither of you pulled away until you needed to breathe.

"You know I love you, right" you looked into his eyes with a warm smile.

He looked at you with a love sick expression and smiled happily. "I'm yours forever." He truly meant it. He leaned in again for another kiss.

When the two of you finally parted you walked hand in hand along the edge of the lake. That's when you decided to ask what he was bothering him.

"Neville, you know you can tell me anything, right?" You cautiously stated.

He looked at you surprised by your sudden words. Then he realized that you had noticed his nervous state. "I… I know."

"Cause I feel like you're hiding something from me." You bit your lip nervously. "Every time I tease you, you seem a little on edge. I can stop if that makes you uncomfortable."

"Oh no it's not that it's… it's just that… I… well I don't know" he was stumbling over his words and didn't know how to explain his thoughts. His face grew redder by the second. The two of you had stopped walking and ended up in the middle of a huge mud pile under a tree.

You stood in front of him holding his hand, squeezing it to show your support. You looked up at him but he avoided your gaze instead choosing to look at his thumb which was rubbing the top of your hand.

The rain started to come down a little harder creating more ripples in the water. The tree hardly protected the both of you.

"Neville?"

"I… " he became even more flustered and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He quickly regretted his decision to tell you what he was truly thinking and let go of your hand and slowly back away from you. As he did he slipped in the mud falling flat on his back.

"Ahhh!" Mud had splattered in the air, some landing on you.

"Oh my gosh, Neville are you alright?" You tried concealing a laugh.

"I'm ok" He laid flat on his back with an embarrassed look on his face.

You kneeled beside him to help him up. He was almost stuck to the ground as you tried pulling him out of the mud.

"What did you fall in, superglue?" You chuckled.

He laughed along with you. Just as he was getting up you slipped and fell on your butt.

"Achh!" You fell with a splat.

"Ahh! I'm so sorry" He said as he helped you up.

Your bottom and the back of your legs were covered in mud. However it was not as bad as Neville's back side. His entire back side was covered in mud from head to toe. It looked as if someone had painted one side of his body.

"Neville, What's gotten into you?" Concern filled your voice. "Honesty, you're worrying me." You cupped his cheek into your hand.

"I'm sorry Y/N. It's just…" he sighed in defeat. "I've been thinking about what we talked about a couple weeks ago, you know about taking our relationship to a more intimate level. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. Well actually I haven't been able to stop thinking about how terrible I would be. I really don't want to disappoint you."

"Oh Neville. Is that what all of this was about?" You gave him a soft smile. "Neville you could never disappoint me. I guess I haven't been so discreet about my intentions for coming, have I?" You giggled.

He gave you an apologetic look. You always knew how to defuse the tension. "No not exactly."

"You know that the first time is always awkward right? I mean, I will try to make you as comfortable as possible but just remember to relax."

You wrapped your arms around him to comfort him. You felt the sleeve of your sweater get completely covered in mud as you did.

"Oh forgot" you said as you removed your arms.

"Sorry" Neville apologized. He furrowed his eyebrows. He seemed to do that whenever he was flustered, worried, embarrassed, or any other case when he was stressed.

You reached up to gently message the tension out of his eyebrows. "Relax."

He smiled down at you. Your sleeve touched the side of his face getting mud on his cheek. That gave you a funny idea. You pulled your sleeves up and rubbed the excess mud on his cheeks.

"Hey!" He chuckled. "You know two can play at that game." He bent down and grabbed a handful of mud and flung it up at you.

"Ahh" It had splattered all over your sweater. You retaliated by throwing mud at his face.

The two of you continued your game and were soon covered in mud. Your hair was a mess and your clothes were absolutely dirty. The same could be said about Neville but probably worse. It started to rain harder than before creating more mud.

Neville was finally at ease about the whole situation. You always knew how to calm him down and make him feel confident in himself. It was one of the things he loved most about you. You were happy to see your boyfriend more calm and sure of himself than before.

Once you heard thunder in the distance that's when you stopped. You turned to look at him. "I think we should head back don't you?" You said a little breathless from play fighting.

"Yeah ok, we better head back before it gets worse out here." Neville said looking up at the sky.

"I'll race you there?" You challenged him. But before he could say anything you were off running back to the house.

"That's cheating!" Neville chased after you screaming.

Your laughs could be heard all throughout the forest as the two of you ran back towards the house. Once the house was in sight, you sprinted faster towards the porch. You stopped running when you touched the back door. You rested leaning over the railing glad that the roof of the porch had stopped some rain from falling on you. Neville was not far behind and sat on the porch steps catching his breath.

"I win…" you said breathlessly.

"Yes you did…" he laughed.

Neville turned to look at the back door, then his eyes went wide with terror. He remembered what his grandmother had told him about not getting the carpet dirty. Then he looked at himself and then at you. Your boots were covered in mud. Some mud had even gotten into your boot. His boots were much worse. There was a tear in one of them, showing his pinky toe covered in a now muddy sock.

"Oh my god!" He placed his hands on his head. "Gran's gonna kill me if we get mud on the carpet!" His breathing quickened. "What are we gonna do?"

That's when you realized you forgotten about your promise to Mrs. Longbottom. You were not about to break your promise. You had to come up with a solution and fast. The lake was too far to go back and wash up and the rain seemed less harsh now. You looked at Neville then to the door and then back at Neville and back at the door again.

"Do you have a bathroom in your room because there isn't one in mine?" You asked Neville.

"Yeah there's a bathroom in my room. Why?" He raised an eyebrow at you.

"Well we could leave our clothes out here and rush up stairs to your room. Do you have any towels in your room?" You smiled sheepishly at him.

Neville was caught off guard by your proposal. He couldn't seem to close his mouth; it was trapped open. He had barely registered that you had even asked him a question.

"I… I… do actually." He finally responded in almost a whisper.

"Great. Then it's a plan." You stated confidentiality, but the confidence was more of an illusion.

"It's a plan." Neville repeated your words in shock. He couldn't believe what was happening although he was not entirely sure what this meant or if it would lead to anything. He was also very relieved that there were no houses nearby to see the strip show. Luckily the closest neighbors were about 5 acres away and the trees surrounding the house provided some privacy.

You began untying your shoe laces and talking off your boots. He followed your actions and took off his socks as well. Your feet were clean and so were Neville's. That was the good part. He began to unbuckle his belt and hesitantly dragged them down them down to his ankles. You took your knitted sweater off revealing your tan bra. Neville turned red at the sight of you and quickly turned around to give you some privacy but tripped over his own pants that were still around his ankles. He grabbed onto the railing before he could fall and stepped out of his pants. He felt completely exposed and cold.

As Neville turned around you got a great view of his ass. He had on dark blue boxer briefs that hugged him perfectly showing off how round his butt was. You bit your lip and felt your face heat up at the thought. You then unbuttoned your jeans and slide them right off, placing them with your sweater and socks.

Neville had discarded his sweater and under shirt that hand somehow managed to get muddy as well. He was now just in his underwear and freezing. When he turned towards you he was met with the sight of you taking off your jeans. Your cheeky pink underwear almost gave him a heart attack. Your body was so perfect in every way and you were just so beautiful. He felt himself grow a little hot in some areas of his body and mentally chastised himself to not embarrass himself. Then he felt a wave of self consciousness as you turned to look at himself. He tried to cover his stomach and crotch area at the same time and not look awkward while doing it but failed.

When you turned your heart fluttered in your chest. He was the most gorgeous person you had ever laid eyes on and your love for him grew by the second. You noticed his actions and stepped closer to him and grabbed both of his hands. They were freezing and he visibly shivered. You rubbed your hands with his to try and build up some heat.

"We better get inside quickly." You said leading him towards the door still holding his hand.

The two of you were fairly clean besides your heads which were basically covered in dry mud. There were a few patches of dried mud around your bodies but they wouldn't touch the carpet so that was not a problem.

You opened the back door and stepped inside testing to see if you left a mark of some kind. when you didn't the two of you entered the house. All the lights in the house were off making it dark and gloomy. You let go of Neville's hand to turn around and close the door behind you. So far the carpet was not marked up or dirty.

"Alright I think we're good." You said grabbing Neville's hand again and leading him upstairs. As you walked in front of him, he couldn't help but stare at your ass that was barely covered by anything. He blushed furiously as your movements made your butt giggle a little.

At the top of the stairs he led the two of you to his room. Upon entering the room you closed the door behind you and locked it, but Neville didn't seem to notice you licking the door. The room was very cozy. Only a lamp that Neville had forgotten to turn off gave the room light. The windows were shut and the sound of rain hitting the glass could be heard from outside. Neville had walked near the bed holding himself to keep warm and stood there not knowing what to do. Then you finally spoke.

"Where are the towels?" You asked.

"In… in the closet." His teeth were chattering and his lips were blue.

You ran up to him and grabbed his hands again. "Oh my gosh your freezing. You should go and take a shower first."

"No you should… You're my guest… You go first..." His sentences were slow due to how cold he was.

"Neville, you're obviously cold you should go first."

"Aren't you cold?" He worried.

"Yes, but my face isn't turning purple."

"Y/N I'm fine. Seriously. You go ahead." He was stubborn and so were you.

When he wouldn't go in first, you had an idea.

"Fine I'll go first." You walked towards the bathroom and turned on the lights. Then you turned back to look at him standing underneath the doorway.

"You can join me if you'd like?" You felt your cheeks warm up.

His eyes widened and his mouth slowly gaped open to respond but nothing came out.

"It's just, I don't want you to be waiting for me out here for me to get out. You're all wet and freezing. I don't want you to get sick." You had hoped your excuse would persuade him to take a shower with you. You were really trying to set the mood for your later plans. When he didn't answer, you quickly try to push those thoughts to the back of your mind.

'Shit did I misunderstand him at the lake. Maybe he needs more time. Did he mean that he wanted to do this another time. Oh fuck, he did.' you thought to yourself.

"I mean you don't have to. We don't have to do anything if you don't want to." You said blushing furiously.

"No!" He replied more quickly and a little louder than he anticipated. "I mean yes. Yes, I would like t-to join you." He gulped a little at his last statement.

You smiled up at him happy that you didn't misunderstand him. "Ok. Great. Uh… Let me go turn on the shower." As you left into the bathroom. Neville let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

'Ok. Just keep calm. You got this' Neville internally monologued. 'This is actually happening. Now. Just relax. Relax.' He heard the sound of running water coming out of the bathroom and his heart started racing. 'Why can't you relax.'

You came out of the bathroom and walked towards his closet. "I almost forgot the towels. You go ahead and get in. I'll meet you in a little bit." You instructed. Really you were buying yourself time to work up the courage to be naked in front of him.

"Ok." His voice was a little shaky and too quiet for you to hear. He walked into the bathroom and quickly looked at himself in the mirror. There were patches of dried mud covering most of him, but that didn't seem to help his nerves.

He tried to remind himself that his body was ok. 'Y/N likes me, there is nothing to be scared about.' He removed his underwear and checked himself out in the mirror one last time. The stretch marks around his stomach became more visible. He usually never noticed them but now they were all he could think about. He thought it looked weird that the only areas without mud were in the places he wished were most covered.

Intrusive thoughts filled his head, but the worst one popped into his head. 'Oh no, what if she thinks my penis looks weird?'

"Ahem." You made a small noise telling him that you were right at the entrance of the bathroom. He quickly covered his front and turned his head to face you only to see that you were completely nude holding only two towels in your hand. You had also removed your undergarments before you got the towels from his closet. You smiled shyly and blushed at the sight of him.

His blush had instantly grown all the way to his ears and neck. He smiled shyly at you. He couldn't believe how beautiful you were, even with dried mud in your hair and on small parts of your body. It was a complete fantasy right in front of him. He really couldn't believe that he was even with you, despite all the efforts you made to show him that you loved him. He honestly thought you were way out of his league. He desperately wished that he wouldn't get a boner, already embarrassed by his own body. But to be honest his dick was already half hard.

As he trailed his eyes up your body he eventually landed on your eyes which were looking right back at him. They were warm and full of love. You looked as if cupid had struck you with an arrow. He relaxed a bit then.

"You look beautiful." You said with utter adoration for the boy.

He laughed a little nervously. "Really." His mind was going a hundred miles an hour. 'She thinks I'm pretty.' He thought to himself. He felt like he could melt into a puddle and be fine for the rest of his life with just your words.

You nodded a yes.

"You look more beautiful." He replied with the same adoration for you. The butterflies in your stomach seemed to move even faster than before as you became more excited. You were internally screaming at his comment.

Neither of you could pull your eyes away from the other's body. That is until you noticed the steam. "We should probably get in before all the warm water gets used."

"Oh right." He slid the shower door open and entered first. You followed him in once you set the towels down and closed the door behind you. Once in the shower you let the water run over your body. You noticed that he tried to keep a good distance away from you. You didn't mind but you had hoped he would touch you or at least try and look at you again. He was staring at the wall with his hands folded in front of him. You switched places so that he could wash the mud out of his hair. You poured shampoo in your hair and washed it. He had his back towards you and you watched the water droplets make little streaks on his skin. You couldn't help but notice how cute his butt was. It was actually very plump. You would never let Neville know but you actually really loved his ass.

Neville was focusing really hard to not get a boner, afraid it would ruin the moment and he would just embarrass himself. He thought if he avoided looking at your body then that would help, but the image of your nude body from a few minutes ago were still stuck on his mind. He was all but very awkward and was sure you could hear his heart race, with how loud it seemed to him. He turned his head slightly and noticed you were staring at him.

"Do you need to use the water?" He asked thinking that was why you were staring. His question pulled you out of your thoughts, embarrassing you at having been caught staring.

"Uh… yes."

He moved out of the way and let you under the water. He then proceeded to wash his own hair with shampoo. His body was turned a little so that you could finally get a good look at his dick. You bit your lip a little, looking at the way it seemed to sway slightly as he washed his hair.

As the suds from the shampoo ran down your chest and stomach. He couldn't help but try and catch a glimpse or two. He desperately wanted nothing more than to wash your body and explore every curve, but with that way his hands were shaking he figured he could barely hold anything.

Neither of you seemed to know what to say. Just sharing a few glances at the other. You moved closer to him, in an attempt to grab the washcloth and soap that were behind him. Your sudden close proximity startled him and he backed himself into the shower door, nearly falling in the process. You quickly grabbed his forearms to stabilize him, while he grabbed onto yours in return.

"Are you ok?" You said trying to hide a small laugh.

"Yeah. I'm alright." You thought he could get any redder but he somehow managed to.

Your hands stayed on his forearms and you couldn't help but notice how cute he looked with soap suds around his head. You didn't realize that your hands trailed up his arms so that they rested on his shoulder. His hands were now under your elbows.

Both of you stared into each other's eyes and couldn't help but smile. Neville was the first to break out in laughter. You couldn't help but giggle with him. The awkward silence was replaced with sounds of joy.

"I'm so sorry." Neville looked as if he had tears from laughing so hard. Although you couldn't tell if they were tears or if it was just water.

"For what." Your confusion made you laugh even harder.

"I don't know."

The two of you relaxed a little more at each other's touch. Each of you taking the time to look at the other's body fully. Neville was no longer concerned about not taking in your gorgeous body. The way you carried yourself confidently, not afraid to be around him nude had encouraged him to feel a bit more confident in his own body as well. He decided that there was no need to be nervous anymore. You loved him and respected him, so he knew that there was no need to be ashamed of his body.

He stared down at your breast. 'I'm the luckiest guy in the wor…' his train of thought was cut off when he felt a sharp pain in his eye.

"Ahh" he tried wiping away the shampoo that had made its way to his eye, but made it worse.

"Oh my gosh. Here, come to the water." You lead him under the shower. He washed the soap out of his eye and hair.

As he did so, you retrieved the washcloth and poured body wash onto it and started to wash your body. Once Neville was done washing his hair he grabbed his washcloth and did the same, scrubbing his entire body to get rid of all the mud.

"Is your eye alright?" You said trying to make some small conversation.

"Yeah. It was just soap." The two of you continue washing the mud off yourselves.

However, you wanted to move things a little more quickly but didn't really know how until an idea popped into your head. You had already scrubbed all the mud off your body and returned to your breast, messing them more than necessary. Neville was completely star struck at the sight in front of him and he could feel himself becoming more aroused by the second. He wanted to be the one to touch your body.

"Neville, do you mind helping me wash my back?" He smiled at you and nodded a yes.

You handed him your washcloth to use and you turned so your back was facing him. He was a little hesitant on how to wash your back but, he eventually gently massaged the washcloth on your skin. He started at the top of your shoulders and made his way down to your waist. He followed the cure of your sides slowly making sure to memorize the way the arch of your back felt. He dangerously massaged close to your bum, making the two of you more aroused. Although it was more apparent to see Neville's arousal than yours.

You looked over your shoulder when he was done. He looked at you with doed eyes as you turned slowly and walked closer to him. You couldn't help it anymore. The feeling of wanting more overtook you and you pulled him in for a kiss. Neville dropped the washcloth and wrapped his arms around you pulling you close to him. You pushed your chest up against his, desperate for his touch or any contact with him. Your chests were so close you thought you could hear Neville's heart beat racing. Although you were not sure if it was his or yours you were hearing. Your hands wrapped in his hair pulling lightly, causing him to moan softly into the kiss. His hands rubbed up and down the small of your back, giving you goosebumps and causing you to sigh. You wanted him to touch you properly so you led his hands to cup your breast. His bottom lip quivered slightly as he finally felt the weight of your breast in his hands. He messaged them gently loving the feeling. You moaned into the kiss causing him to whimper.

This is what you too have been waiting for since the day you began dating and it was absolutely perfect.

You felt his tongue slid across your bottom lip. You opened allowing him entrance. The feeling of his hot wet tongue against yours was intoxicating. You moved the two of you under the water to let it wash away the soap on your bodies. You could feel Neville's growing erection against your thigh and his moans became louder every time he came in contact with your thigh. You moved your hand down to his hips and pulled them closer to yours encouraging him to rub himself against you. He groaned at your forceful movements. He eventually broke the kiss when he couldn't breathe anymore. Both of you were panting like crazy.

"Do you want to continue this on the bed?" You finally spoke.

"Godric yes!" He breathed.

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thosebizzareserpents · 3 years

Note

If you still running with Rita wrote CC. What do think happened to her as result? The initial reaction and backlash?

Rita Skeeter critical acclaimed author was infamously known for her biographies of wizarding personalities. From the Lies and Life of Albus Dumbledore to the Dark side of the Demob.

Safe to say things had been under a dry spell after the fallout of Darkside of the Demob in 2014.

Why not try her hand at something different, branch out. Keep her readers captivated. Something shocking and dare say riskey.

An idea popped into the author's head. A What If and Fictionalized version and of the aftermath of the Second Wizarding War.

This venture however would come haunt the seasoned author to the end of her days.

At a business luncheon Astoria Malfoy (nee Greengrass) started to receive calls one after another.

Over fifty missed calls from her sister Daphne and several were from close friends and old housemates. There was even one from her mother-in-law's grandnephew.

Astoria excused herself and called her sister.

Daphne what's wrong?" Is everything alright." Astoria heard several colorful choice words on the other end. "THIS INSUFFERABLE BIT-

"Damn it the reception is so poor when I'm flying in this area."

Stori call me back - The call abruptly ended.

What in the world? Astoria went downstairs to the building's bookstore cafe. Displayed in the window was the release of a new book penned by Rita Skeeter.

Over the years Astoria had learned first hand about Skeeter's poison pen stories. She, her husband, and his former housemates were the subjects of many articles and tell-all biographies.

Pansy Parkinson : Vivacious to Wilted;

Daphne Greengrass : A of Life of Desirous Debauchery.

Stunning, Strait-laced and Subservient the Astoria Greengrass Story, just to name a few.

She raised an eyebrow and picked up the canary colored book. On the cover was a child inside a bird's nest.

After a while, Astoria closed the book and exhaled. No wonder the interns stared at her like she had sprouted multiple heads.

Astoria ordered another coffee, and returned her sister's call. She also made a few calls of own.

It was the subject of highlight at all the garden parties. Narcissa just happened to be in attendance of one.

"Dear Merlin and Morgana, did Bellatrix really do that, with You-Know-Who?

The Malfoy matriarch nearly jolted. She hadn't heard either name uttered in public in years.

Two guests approached her. She was bombarded with questions.

Bellatrix Lestrange have a secret child?

I mean Vol - Tom Riddle Jr. was the most feared dark wizard of our time but

"How could you let your sister do that in your own home?" Absolutely ludicrous!

Does your sister Andromeda know she has niece as well?

Narcissa choked on the tea she was drinking.

"I beg your pardon?"

"It's in Rita's latest novel. It's titled the Cursed Child. Sounds foreboding don't you think? "

"Here I have a copy with me." I simply haven't been able to put it down.

Narcissa snatched the book away and read up to the reveal of Delphini Riddle. She almost screamed, almost.

Narcissa apparated away with an audible pop.

"Andy!" "Andy!"

Andromeda Tonks looked out her living room window and what a sight she saw. Her younger sister was sprinting across her front lawn.

"Cissy? "

Andromeda's grandson Teddy and his girlfriend Victoire Weaslely quickly opened the front door.

Narcissa was out of breath. As she reached for the nearest chair.

She handed Andromeda the book.

Andromeda eyed it wearily.

Rita's gone too far."

Rita Skeeter had attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry the same time as the Black sisters. In fact Rita and Bellatrix were in the same year and shared a dormitory together in Slytherin House. She had known the late elder Black sister very well.

"Is it another one her biographies?" Victoire rolled her eyes.

"No." Mrs. Malfoy stared at the book as if she was trying to burn a hole in it.

Andromeda sat down at the kitchen table and began to read.

"Just what in the seven hells is this!? "

Teddy had never heard their grandmother speak like that.

Teddy eyes were wide with shock.

"Gran this is creepy. This Delphini character, blue and green hair, initially comes off as friendly and quirky?"

Andromeda and Narcissa stared at one another.

"It's tasteless is what it is."

"Was she going for a variation of the Delphinus constellation or the Delphinium flower?" Victoire pondered.

Teddy frowned.

Victoire immediately called her uncle Harry.

Narcissa shook her head." Lucius has been dead for eight years how could he possible steal a time tuner!"

"And Theodore I don't know where that child is or if he's even alive."

"Theodore?"

"Theodore Nott was a housemate of Draco's. No one has seen or heard from him since the Second Wizarding War ended."

Poor Scorpius what if he happens upon such rubbish?

Teddy gently patted their grandmother and grand-aunt on the back. "Does Draco have a mobile?"

"Astoria. My daughter-in-law does." Oh, oh Merlin.

Owls began to flock to the Diggory home. Amos Diggory almost faints at the letters. Florence Diggory contacts Cho Chang and Cedric's former quidditch teammates. Heidi Macavoy, Malcolm Preece, Anthony Rickett, Tamsin Applebee, Maxine O'Flaherty, and Herbert Fleet.

They gather in the Diggory living room with looks to kill.

Heidi is the first to speak. "She's completely lost her mind."

On the Hogwarts Express every single child that Trolley Witch, Madam Bon Bon Lovage passes scurries past her turning down treats.

Every car she visited someone burst into tears or shied away. A third year student snatched a first year away from approaching the cart. "Be careful the pumpkin tarts are dangerous." What if she grows claws like in the book!"

"Claws?" "What on earth?"

Madam Lovage visits her friends Ambrosius and Melita Flume the owners of Honeydukes and tells them what transpired.

"I don't understand Amb and Mel." In all my years I have never not made a sell. The children were absolutely frightened of me." They wouldn't even come near me. Their long time friend was on the verge of tears.

"Bon love, I think you might want to sit down for bit."

Padma was going over a new manuscript with her editor. Padma Patil was now young adult novelist. had written many successful YA and children’s novels.

"So I have to ask. How do you feel about Skeeter breaking onto the fiction scene.

"Really? That's frightening."

She even included you in her new book."

Wha- Hold on a moment.

Numerous voicemails and texts began to appear.

Her assistant pops her head in. "Um, your sister and husband are here."

Pavarti Patil and Cormac Mclaggen are livid.

During Herbology Club in Greenhouse 1, there was knocking and clamoring at the window.

Students had gathered outside anxiously waiting. One student in particular was Neville's godson Albus Potter. His wife Hannah Longbottom now the Matron of Hogwarts stood with them.

Professor! Professor! Professor Longbottom have you read Cursed Child!?

Someone named Cedric killed you!

This kid became a bloody Death Eater all cause he lost the Triwizarding Tournament

Hey Potter, isn't he the same kid your dad was friends with?

"He was in even in Hufflepuff!"

"That never happen!" Snapped Albus.

"Enough!" Hannah spoke sternly. "Everyone who isn't in herbology club please go where you supposed to now"

"Albus come with me."

"Hey Al!" Albus older brother James and cousin Rose were heading toward the greenhouse as well. Followed by their cousins Fred, Louis and Dominique.

"This absolutely insane, it's all everyone talked about in Potions class!"

"The whole school is talking about Dom."

Neville sent the first owl to Ginny.

Hannah and Neville chooses a weekend date for everyone to gather at the Leaky Cauldron from The Weasley-Potter clan, The Malfoys, Padma and Cormac, her sister Pavarti, several Dumbledore's Army members. Andromeda Tonks and Teddy Lupin

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Nothing she wrote is consistent with anything." Hermione flipping through pages of the book making notes.

"What do you propose we do Potter?" Draco his smooth hands through his hair. "Fucking ridiculous is what this is."

Ron "I agree with you there Malfoy. Bloody menace."

The gall she has to use our children! Padma was furious.

"I have a suggestion" motioned Astoria.

At the residence of Rita Skeeter, she is personally visited by two ministry officials with an Auror. They hand her a 40 page summons to the Wizengamot Offices from a ministry official.

Defamation-Libel Claim of Cedric Diggory (Amos and Florence Diggory)

Defamation-Libel Claim of Thedore Nott (Blaise Zabini)

Defamation-Libel Claim of Madam Bon Bon Lovage

Defamation-Libel of Padma Patil

Defamation-Libel of Astoria Malfoy

Defamation-Libel of Harry J. and Ginny M. Potter

Defamation of Prof. Neville Longbottom

Defamation-Libel of Hermione J. Granger and Ronald B. Weasley

The last was in a black envelope with bold white letters

Illegal Animagus Activity: UNREGISTERED!

Rita Skeeter was hit with a combination of the Bat Bogey Hex, Cornflake Jinx and the Knockback Jinx leaving the stunned author in the Wizengamot office by three unknown assailants. (Ginny, Astoria, Padma)

The courtroom is filled.

Unspeakable and author Saul Croaker is brought in to explain the correct function of Time Tuners.

Current Director of Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers Tamsin Applebee is brought the process of brewing the Polyjuice Potion.

Hogwarts Headmaster and Charms Master Filius Flitwick is brought in to explain the function of the Fidelus Charm.

Magizoologists Luna Lovegood and Rolf Scamander brough in a flustered Augurey who flew around the courtroom until it landed on someone's head or shoulders.

After a week of court proceedings

100% proceeds of the book went to several charities of choice.

A hefty fine of 300,000 galleon for illegal Animagus activity, house arrest and ten years probation. It was either that or serve ten years in Azkaban Prison. Rita took the latter.

The shoe was now on the other foot. Swarmed with reporters and photographers for every Wixen magazine and newspaper she used to write for.

The disgraced author was escorted to the entrance of her home by Hit-Wix. Blocking and reversal charms were placed to ensure she could not transform into her Animagus form.

What a disastrous turn of events. Financial ruined and reputation in complete shreds.

Rita stood outside on her terrace, when someone(s) caught her eye.

She was face to face with three women.

How was court?

"I must say. This is a quite cozy and inviting home." What quaint little garden."

Rita felt a chill go down her spine, she gripped the wand inside her purse.

Don't. You'd be dead before you can whisper or motion an incantation."

" Who are you?"

"Every other book you've written. You allegedly claim to have done extensive research."

"I for one am surprised by such bold ignorance and simply cannot excuse such blatant disrespect of our name and heritage."

"I ask again who are you?"

They ignored her question.

Euphemia, name sounds a bit tawdry no?

"Who was your inspiration for this character?"

"We have pretty good guess, but prefer to hear from your mouth."

This Euphemia becomes a wet nurse to an abomination by clinging to hope that she may receive some reward by the return of her former master.

Alternative universe indeed!

Rita closed her eyes.

"I -

To finally answer your question, my name is Rota Rowle and these are my relatives Sigrdrífa and Hrist Rowle.

We are the actual members of the Rowle Family.

"Judging by your expression, we aren't what you had imagined."

"Please indulge us Ms. Skeeter. We have a few questions and would like conduct an interview of our own."

#this book brought everyone together #to be continued #rita skeeter wrote the cursed child #i'm just throwing this out there #definitely a continuation of this #asks

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handeaux · 3 years

Text

What’s In A Name? The Courtroom Drama Surrounding Spring Grove’s Dexter Mausoleum

Few visitors to Spring Grove Cemetery fail to admire the stately yet threadbare Dexter Mausoleum, monument to one of Cincinnati’s dominant whiskey dynasties. So focused are visitors on the grandly decaying sandstone edifice, tantalizingly enclosed by rusting iron gates and adorned by nesting birds, that they may be forgiven for ignoring the headstones scattered among the encroaching trees and shrubs.

One headstone, in particular, implores further investigation. This modest marker, lying flat to the ground, reads in its entirety:

CHARLES DEXTER

born

CARROLL DEXTER WALKER

1906 – 1960

Charles Dexter, aka Carroll Dexter Walker, was the great-grandson of Edmund Dexter Sr., patriarch of the Cincinnati clan. Born in England, Edmund arrived in Cincinnati around 1830 and, after a very brief stint as a grocer, opened the liquor distribution company that generated his fortune. Edmund died in 1862, aged 61, and became the first interment in his new Dexter Mausoleum. Edmund left behind five sons, with three remaining in Cincinnati and retaining some connection to the family business. Edmund’s son, Charles, though initially involved in the business, suffered a series of infirmities and spent most of his life in the library of his Walnut Hills estate. He died in 1893, leaving a substantial inheritance to his three daughters, Annie, Mary and Alice.

Alice was the only daughter to marry. Mary died young and Annie, a quite eccentric character, lived most of her life in France, refusing to speak English. Alice married Paul F. Walker, a professor of Spanish at the University of Cincinnati. Alice’s only child was Carroll Dexter Walker. Or, he was Carroll Dexter Walker until his Aunt Annie died in Quebec in 1916.

When Annie’s will was read in Hamilton County Probate Court, it was discovered to contain the following bequest:

“I give, devise and bequeath to my nephew, Dexter Walker, the sum of twenty thousand dollars ($20,000) to be held for him in trust by my executor, the income therefrom to be paid him quarterly, for the use and benefit of my nephew's education, until he shall reach the age of twenty one years, when said amount shall be paid over to him for his own property, provided, he be willing to assume by law, the name of Charles Dexter, instead of Dexter Walker as he is now known.”

Annie intended to maintain her father’s legacy. Since Charles Dexter had no sons, and since two of his daughters had no children, Carroll was the only candidate to continue the Dexter line, but only if he changed his surname to Dexter. Should Carroll decline to comply with her request, the $20,000 would be redirected to the University of Cincinnati to create an endowment fund in her father’s name.

Annie’s sister Alice went apoplectic at her sister’s maneuver. From Alice’s perspective, Annie’s scheme was nothing short of a brazen attempt to steal her only son. From the grave, Annie communicated her utter disregard for Alice’s feelings. The very next clause in her will reads:

“To my Sister, Alice Dexter Walker, I leave nothing, for she has never shown me any affection.”

If Annie intended to piss off Alice, it worked. Alice spent the remaining 28 years of her life working to destroy all of Annie’s post-mortem intentions.

Alice mounted a full-scale assault on Annie’s will, trying every method she and her team of lawyers could imagine to get it thrown out. Alice claimed the will was void because Annie was not a resident of Hamilton County, that she was of unsound mind, that her requests were illegal, and so on. None of Alice’s objections survived legal scrutiny, and there is some evidence that the court found her to be a dreadful pain.

Carroll, meanwhile, took his time complying with his aunt’s demand. He was only 10 when Annie died. He turned 21 in 1927 and, when he did not immediately change his name, the University of Cincinnati pounced, claiming the $20,000. UC won the first round but, on appeal, the court ruled that Carroll’s aunt had not set time limit for changing his name. UC appealed that decision. The Ohio Supreme Court, however, determined that Carroll could change his name whenever he damn well pleased. He promptly did so, collected $20,000, and lived the remainder of his life as Charles Dexter. His friends called him “Dex.”

Another item in Annie Dexter’s will created a quandary for the executors. It read:

“I give and bequeath to the Spring Grove Cemetery Association, the sum of five thousand dollars ($5000) and direct that the income therefrom be used for keeping in good repair the Dexter Mausoleum in Spring Grove Cemetery.”

That appears to be a simple matter, cut and dried, and who would refuse $5,000? Spring Grove Cemetery did. Seven years after Annie’s death, executor Burton P. Hollister was still trying to get Spring Grove to accept the gift, but they steadfastly refused to accept the money, even though Hollister himself sat on the cemetery’s board of directors.

According to Spring Grove historian Phil Nuxhall, on 9 October 1924, the Spring Grove directors deferred action on a request by Alice Dexter Walker to demolish the Dexter Mausoleum entirely, referring the matter to – of all people – Burton P. Hollister for analysis.

As if she needed the money, Alice charged into court claiming the $5,000 rejected by Spring Grove. She found Harvard University ahead of her in line. Annie’s will named Harvard the beneficiary of any “residue” or assets not otherwise specifically bequeathed to an individual or organization. Harvard said the refused funds had become part of the residue. Alice claimed they returned to the estate and were therefore hers, as Annie’s only living relative – despite having been personally and unmistakably disinherited. Harvard won that round, pocketing an endowment while the Dexter Mausoleum deteriorated.

Alice Dexter Walker laid down her earthly burdens in 1944, leaving her entire estate to her son, no matter what name he answered to at the time. You can tell from the language of Alice’s will that she was still fuming:

“Throughout this instrument I have referred to my son by his baptismal name of Carroll Dexter Walker, realizing that he assumed by law the name Charles Dexter and is now known as such. I hereby direct that the benefits of this instrument shall inure to my son whether he be described by his baptismal name of Carroll Dexter Walker or by his assumed name of Charles Dexter.”

#spring grove cemetery #dexter mausoleum #charles dexter #edmund dexter #annie dexter #alice dexter walker #carroll dexter walker

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acommonloon · 3 years

Text

Got back a week ago from a ten day beercation in Belgium and I'm still not fully acclimated to Indiana time. So Saturday morning I struggled to get up for the 4+ hour drive through wind and rain to Munster to get more beer for G.

TLDR;

We also took the opportunity to visit D's nephew in Valparaiso, about an hour east of Munster, so two birds one long stone throw?

The night before, I'd set a trap for the groundhog living under our porch. You may remember this crazed varmint had seriously shocked us with it's behavior before we left for our trip to Belgium. It had pulled the cover off our firepit and pulled it under the porch for its nest. I'd determined to kill the beast but it never showed itself before we left. When we returned however, we found it had struck again! I'd taken D's seasonal flag down and stored it on the porch for safekeeping. The fucking groundhog had chewed the entire flag off and now enjoyings a splash of color in its nest under our porch! Evil I tell you!

I set a trap with fresh honeydew melon before going to bed but didn't check it before we left. I didn't want to deal with it before we returned. The last time I set a trap to catch a rabbit, also living under the porch, I caught a possum instead. Speaking of trapped.

We took D's mom with us so she could visit with her grandson. We carefully refrained from playing any news on the radio or speaking about politics. D's mom is a Trumper and well... I'll leave it at that. We also didn't engage in the kind of adventure we would normally. By that I mean, there are quite a few breweries up there I've never visited. I may have whimpered a little when we passed the exit that would have taken us to Taxman.

We did get a great meal at a wonderful Italian place called Cafe Borgia in Munster and had a couple of better than average meals in Valparaiso at a diner themed hamburger joint called Shoops where I got a green cola and breakfast at Le Peep Sunday morning. At D's nephew's urging I also tried bubble tea for the first time. K

Sunday morning we awoke to a bit of snow and sleet for our trip back. Lovely! So after breakfast, at my phone's suggestion we skipped I-65 for the first leg back. I very much enjoyed driving through the countryside and small towns while D and her mom slept. I was bemused when I saw the sign that said Monon 11 miles.

Earlier that morning I'd wakened as I've been doing too often at about 4:00 am. I'd noticed a Tumblr post about an abandoned spur of the Monon RR that passed through a town near where we live, 4 hours south. So when I realized this unplanned route would take us through the town of Monon, I did marvel a bit at the what... serendipity, kismet, coincidence? Was the world having a joke? I smiled when I passed a restaurant outside of town surrounded by rail cars and other RR accoutrements. My English friend Roy would be delighted!

As we neared home I wondered aloud if my trap worked. Would there be a disgruntled groundhog awaiting its fate? I joked to D there'd probably be a possum. No joke! There was a possum.

The world definitely likes its jokes.

#dark lord day #trapped in a car with MIL #gnaw my leg off

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kozutenshi · 4 years

Text

he watched you prepare the coffee he needed to start his morning subtly, shifting his eyes from the morning papers and to your figure. the sound of your soft humming filled the rather empty home that you two are staying in.

the furnitures, the pictures from your wedding day, colored and in black and white, and the essentials were there, but other than that, nothing. it felt more of an empty husk, a starting nest for a bird.

but seeing you, hearing your voice, first thing in the morning was enough for him.

BIAGKO

— an endearment. in literal terms, "biagko" came from "biag ko" which means "my life" in english terms.

— commonly used by older people towards their romantic partners after many years of being together and/or their children.

— my grandma calls all of her apo(granddaughters & grandsons) with this endearment

— "lakay" (old man in common terms but it means 'my man' romantically) & "baket" (old woman but 'my woman' romantically) are also popularly used.

he dreamt of a lifetime with you, under the stars, under the same roof.

so when you had walked on the aisle, your wedding dress making you look even more glorious, he teared up.

it was indeed a joyous day, a whirlwind of laughter, smiles, dances, and music.

and of course, love.

"don't look so dazed, keiji. it's our new home!" he snapped out of his thoughts as you made your way to him, taking both his hands into yours before kissing them and making your way to the kitchen.

the empty rooms, and the fact that your place was new, were obvious as the sound bounced off the walls, echoing. it almost made him feel lonely if not for your humming, the sound lulling him to comfort.

"here's your coffee, keiji!"

reaching for you with shaking hands, his eyes fell on yours, warm and familiar, before you giggled at his strange reaction to the coffee.

"thank you, love."

you beamed at him before brewing your own coffee as he watched from the table with a fond look on his face.

he remembered you, laughing at his wobbly feet as the two of you danced around the house, your feet landing on the floorboards with a light tap.

he can faintly see your tender smile as you cupped his face, letting yourself melt in his arms.

the dust covering the frames made him squint as he lifts his eyes from the papers. the distant sound of a coffee being stirred, and the smell of the drink itself woke his senses immediately.

looking up, he watched you bustle through the kitchen, slapping yourself lightly to wake up like every morning he spent for the past decades. the familiar tune of your song filled his ears, making him smile.

he'll never get tired of it.

you watched him from the corner of your eye, suddenly aware of the attention he's giving.

the gunmetal color of his eyes had faded, a thin layer of gray showing, making it appear in a lighter shade around its rim. he had developed wrinkles on the corners of his eyes that are worn from reading, his hands from writing.

but his smile never changed.

it warmed his heart when you grinned at him back, your face lighting up like the first time you had made coffee for him.

"keiji, here's your coffee." he looked up at you to be met by your smile. it made you glow for him, your eyes' sparkles and glee evident.

somehow he remembered all of the problems, memories, and mornings with your cup of coffee starting him up.

he remembered how you once had woken up late, causing him to almost not start his day with the familiar drink. you, in your frenzied eyes and messy hair, insisted to make his coffee, and he laughed at how you mistakenly used salt instead of sugar.

gratefully, he still took the cup even if it had tasted rather bad.

the memory made him smile to himself, stretching before sipping a dose of his caffeine.

"keiji, is there something in your mind?" your face warmed as he shook his head and reached for your hands, now also wrinkled. the once smooth and soft hands had become calloused through years of household chores and labor, but still warm and familiar.

the hands of his friend, lover, wife, and his partner for the rest of his life.

he took your hands to his lips, placing a kiss on them before caressing them close to his cheeks.

"nothing. none at all, n/n."

a/n: this came earlier since my time for my mobile data is limited so i apologize if it's an hr earlier ( ≧Д≦)

TRAVELLERS: @doodleniella @kenmakodzu @lyzzklm @mfcassandra @oikaw-ugh @seijohlogy @thesecondapplepienation send an ask to be part of the taglist!

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elias-veturius-laia-of-serra · 4 years

Photo

*Contains Sky SPOILERS*

All my favorite Musa Of Adisa quotes and scenes 🥺 ❤️

“I am Musa of Adisa,” the man says. “Son of Ziad and Azmath of Adisa. Grandson of Mehr and Saira of Adisa. I am also the only friend you have in this city” - A Reaper At The Gates

“Who’s the Beekeeper, and how can I find him?”

“Ah, Laia Of Serra.” His white teeth shine like those of a smug horse. He offers me his arm, and under the brightening sky, I finally get a closer look at his tattoos - dozens of them, big and small, all clustered around a hive.

Bees.

“It’s me, of course,” Musa says. “Don’t tell me you hadn’t guessed.” - A Reaper At The Gates

“You listen. How fast can you get information on the jinn?”

Musa strokes his chin. “Let’s see. It took me a week to learn that you’d broken Elias out of Blackcliff’s dungeons. Six days to learn that you’d set off a riot in Nur. Five to learn what Elias Veturius whispered to in your ear the night he abandoned you in the Tribal desert for Kauf Prison. Two to learn that the Warden-” - A Reaper At The Gates

“Musa and I go back again and again, carrying out those who cannot walk themselves, pulling to safety as many Scholars as we can.” - A Reaper At The Gates

“As I told the story, my attention was on the king. I did not notice the ghuls emerging from the shadows and congregating around the princess. I did not notice them latching themselves on to her like leeches. Musa looks as if he is watching the slow torture of someone he loves—which, I finally realize, he is.” - A Reaper At The Gates

“Nikla and I eloped ten years ago,” he says. “We were only a little older than you, but much more foolish. She had an older brother who was supposed to be king. But he died, she was named crown princess, and we grew apart.” I wince at the perfunctory nature of his recitation, a decade of history in four sentences. “I didn’t mention it before because there was no point. We’ve been separated for years. She took my lands, my titles, my fortune—”

“Your heart.” Musa’s harsh laugh echoes off the hard stone of the buildings on either side of us. “That too,” he says.” - A Reaper At The Gates

“Another arrow shoots out of the darkness, but it too misses its mark, dropping in midair—courtesy of Musa’s wights.

“Nikla!” Musa snarls. “Show yourself!” - A Reaper At The Gates

“When I rush her,” Musa whispers, barely audible, “run.” I’m just processing what he says when he’s past me and heading straight for Nikla. Immediately, silver-armored bodyguards step out of the shadows and attack Musa so swiftly that he is now nothing but a blur.” - A Reaper At The Gates

“Musa’s voice rings in my head. We need you as a voice for the Scholars. We need you as our scim and shield.” - A Reaper At The Gates

“You pull that hood any lower,” Musa of Adisa whispers from beside me, “and people will think you’re a jinn.” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“Stop waving around your blade, aapan.” Musa uses the Mariner honorific that means “little sister” and speaks with the same exasperation I sometimes hear from Darin. The Beekeeper, as Musa is known, is twenty-eight—older than Darin and I. Perhaps that is why he delights in bossing us around.” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“Musa eases my hand off the hilt. “You break Elias Veturius out of Blackcliff, burn down Kauf Prison, deliver the Martial Emperor in the middle of a war, face down the Nightbringer more times than I can count,” he says, “and you jump at a loud noise? I thought you were fearless, aapan.” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“This . . . thing. This Rehmat. It was living inside you?”

“Like a parasite?” Musa says. “Or a demon?”

“Don’t be so horrified,” I say. “Whatever it is, it’s inside you too. All of you. Or so the Jaduna said.”

Musa looks down, clearly wondering if some fey beastie will burst unexpectedly from his chest.

“So if one of us had lost our temper and yowled at the Nightbringer—”

“I did not yowl—” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“Laia! Watch it!” a Scholar man with dark skin and long, black hair calls out. He holds off three legionnaires with a scim, a short dagger, and—I squint—a cloud of hundreds of wights who befuddle his foes. They defend him with a vicious protectiveness that wights aren’t known for.” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“Tend to your wounds,” I say. “Then leave. Go back to the beach. To your boats. To a quick death, it matters not. But you will not enter the Waiting Place.”

“He’s your brother.” Musa speaks up, nodding to Harper. The Mask gapes at Musa, who doesn’t seem to notice.” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“The Soul Catcher gives her a brief, unreadable look. “Yes. One human might slip through the forest undetected by them. But a half dozen? They will know you are here soon enough.”

“Can’t you just—” Musa puts his hands around his throat and mimes choking—referring no doubt to how the Soul Catcher can steal away breath.” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“You’re late.” His armor is splashed with blood, but he doesn’t appear to have any wounds. Musa materializes behind him, limping. “Good in a fight.” Quin nods to the Scholar approvingly.” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“Not hard to look at, is he?” I jump at the voice next to me, my scim half-drawn. It is Musa, one hand gently nudging my blade back to its scabbard. He has a dozen bruises and as many cuts, most half-healed.

“So jumpy, Shrike. One would think you’d only just escaped a band of Karkauns by the skin of your teeth.” He chuckles darkly at his little joke, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Forgive me,” he says. “Laughing hurts less than facing what happened. I am sorry about Faris. I liked him.”

“Thank you,” I say. “And your joke was terrible, so naturally, Faris would have loved it.” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“He pats his face, preening. “Everyone says I’m even more dashing with scars.” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“Now, Shrike.” Musa follows me reluctantly. “While I do like my women tall and bossy, and while I know this face is difficult to resist, sadly, my heart belongs to another—” “Oh, shut up.” I stop when we’re far from the courtyard. “You’re not that pretty.” He bats his eyelashes at me, and I wish he were just a bit uglier” - Sky Beyond The Storm

“In fact, I’ll offer you a little tidbit right now. Captain Avitas Harper is on his way here. He’s in the northwest corridor, passing that very ugly statue of a yak, and moving rather quickly.”

“How—” I know how he does it. Still, the specificity is uncanny.

“Ten seconds,” Musa murmurs. “Eight—six—” I stride swiftly away, wincing at the pain lancing up my leg. But I’m not fast enough.

“Blood Shrike,” Harper calls in a voice that I cannot ignore. I curse Musa as he walks off, laughing quietly.” - Sky Beyond The Storm

“Within the crowd of Karkauns, a squad of my men fight their way toward me, Musa among them. I try to join them, but the Karkauns surround us. Musa disappears, his scims flying, and I remind myself to ask him who the hells trained him before I am inundated by the enemy again.” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“Just the blather the Karkauns were spewing. Ik tachk mort fid iniqant fi. Haven’t been able to get a translation of it, but—”

“‘Death wakes the great sea,’” Musa translates, nodding a greeting to a group of Scholars as they pass. “Or—no, wait. ‘Death feeds the great sea.’”

I stop in the middle of the hall, ignoring the irritated grunt of a Mask who nearly runs into me. “Why didn’t you tell me you spoke Karkaun?”

“You didn’t ask.” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“My grandfather taught me to fight. He was a palace guard. Saved old King Irmand’s life when he was a boy. Got a beekeeping estate for his trouble. My father became a healer, but I spent more time with the bees. I think they both thought training would toughen me up.”

“Did it?”

“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“Go on, insult me,” Musa says. “But you and I are more alike than you know, and that’s not a compliment. You’re in a position of great power, Shrike. It’s a lonely place to be. Most leaders spend their lives using others. Being used. Love isn’t just a luxury for you. It’s a rarity. It’s a gift. Don’t throw it away.”

“I’m not throwing it away.” I stop walking and pull the Scholar around to face me. “I’m afraid, Musa.” I don’t mean to blurt the words out—especially to a man whose arrogance has vexed me from the moment I met him. But to my relief, he does not mock me.

“How many in Antium lost those beloved to them when the Karkauns attacked?” he asks. “How many like Dex, who hide who they love because the Empire would kill them for it?” Musa runs a hand through his black hair, and it sticks up like a bird’s nest. “How many like Laia, betrayed and then left to claw her way through her pain? How many like me, Shrike, pining for someone who no longer exists?” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“But that’s not what we’re talking about,” Musa says. “You are lucky enough to love someone who loves you back. He is alive and breathing and in the same vicinity as you. By the skies, do something about it. For however long you have. For whatever time you get. Because if you don’t, I swear that you’ll regret it. You’ll regret it for all your years.” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“Do you know where Musa of Adisa was in the fight to take Antium, Pontilius?” I say now. “At my side, bleeding for an Empire he’d never set foot in until a few months ago. Fighting for the Scholars. Tell me, General, where were you during the fighting?” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“As I walk through the freezing palace, I search for a flash of color amid the drear. Musa can always be counted on to wear at least one loud item of clothing—and I need his information now.” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“Someone who will know how to deal with Musa’s pain. But the Scholar does not release my hand.

“I shouldn’t mourn her.” He wipes his face, and I almost don’t hear him.

“She jailed my father. Took my lands. My title. The Scholars suffered under her rule.” - Sky Beyond The Storm

“We got married a decade ago. I was eighteen. She was nineteen. Her brother was crown prince, but he died of an illness and the palace healer—my father—couldn’t save him. She—” He shakes his head. “Grief took her. The ghuls found ripe prey with her, and they nibbled at her mind for years. And when I spoke of them to her, she called me insane. King Irmand was so grief-stricken after his son’s death that he did not see what was happening to his daughter.”

“My father died in prison. My mother soon after. And yet—” He looks between Harper and me. “I still loved her. I shouldn’t have, but I did.” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“I have to go to Marinn,” Musa says. “Find Keris. Kill her. Nikla’s heir is a first cousin. Skies know if he’s still alive, but he’s young. He’ll need help.” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“You want me to stay,” he says. “But the Mariners were my people first. They need me. And you owe me a favor, Shrike.” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“All the way to Avitas’s quarters, where we can speak without interruption, I think of Musa’s cries. The way he sounded as if his soul had been dug out of his body.” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“Ah, young love,” Musa says, and I glance at him, wondering if I will see bitterness in his regard. But his smile takes years off his face, which has been drawn and desolate of late.” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“Love can be more powerful in a battle than planning or strategy. Love keeps us fighting. Love drives us to survive.”

“Skies, stop meddling—”

“I meddle because I hope, aapan.” The humor bleeds from his voice, and I’m certain he’s remembering his beloved, doomed Nikla. “Life is too short not to hope.” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“Soldiers on both sides of the escarpment stumble to their feet, still shaken from the maelstrom. Musa has an arm under the Blood Shrike’s shoulders, and together they stagger away from the front line, anguish emanating from both.” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“The Blood Shrike, Musa, and I are discussing how the troops should handle any rogue ghosts. When Laia appears, Musa kicks the Shrike in the ankle.

“What the hells, Musa—oh—” - A Sky Beyond The Storm

“Duty gives me a straight back when Musa, his own eyes red at the loss of Darin, finds me and takes me to a line of bodies to be buried in the jinn grove.” - A Sky Beyond the Storm

“Musa is here too, gesturing with the flatbread while flirting with Afya Ara-Nur. The Tribeswoman is still pale from her injury, wincing even as she laughs. Mamie looks amused while Spiro Teluman watches with a dark glare. The smith shouldn’t worry. Musa’s heart is as shattered as mine” - A Sky Beyond the Storm

“Gird your loins, Shrike.” Musa gives me a sidelong glance. “You’re about to get quite the promotion.” - A Sky Beyond the Storm

“I heard her tell Zacharias a story last night. He was rapt.”

“Where is he?”

“With Tas, eating moon cakes.” I nod to a cart near Mamie’s wagon, where the young Scholar boy, who appears to have grown a foot since I last saw him, grins as my nephew stuffs a cake into his mouth. Musa, keeping them company, hands over another.” - A Sky Beyond the Storm

“Musa has been invaluable in court, charming Illustrian Paters as easily as he has Scholars. When we broke up the estates of Keris’s top allies, it was Musa who suggested we award them to Scholars and Plebeians who fought in the Battle of Antium. And when grief threatens to consume me, it is Musa who appears with a meal and insists we eat it out in the sunshine. Musa who drags me to the palace kitchens to bake bread with him, and Musa who suggests a visit to Zacharias, even if it means canceling two weeks of court. I thought at first that the Scholar had wights watching me to make sure I did not fall too deeply into despair. But the wights, he told me, are no longer his spies.” - A Sky Beyond the Storm

“How am I supposed to take the Pater of Gens Visselia seriously when I know he spends most of his time composing odes to his hounds?” - A Sky Beyond the Storm

“Yes,” I say to his uncertainty. “I want you to stay, Musa.” He lets out a breath.

“Thank the skies,” he says. “I don’t actually like bees very much. Little bastards always sting me. And anyway, you need me around.” - A Sky Beyond the Storm

“I’m not lonely!” A lie, though Musa is too much a gentleman to call me on it.

“But you are alone, Empress.” A shadow passes across his face, and I know he thinks of his wife, Nikla, dead six months now. “As all those in power are alone. You don’t have to be.” - A Sky Beyond the Storm

“It should have been him dancing with you,” Musa says, and at the raw emotion in his voice, my eyes heat.” - A Sky Beyond the Storm

“Alas.” The Scholar spins me in a circle, then pulls me back. “We’re the ones who survived, Empress. Unlucky, perhaps, but that’s our lot. And since we’re here, we might as well live.” - A Sky Beyond the Storm

“Though I was reluctant moments ago, now I find that I want to give in to that exuberant beat. So does Musa. So we laugh and dance again. We eat a dozen moon cakes and chase away the loneliness, two broken people who, for this night, anyway, make a whole.” - A Sky Beyond the Storm

#an ember in the ashes #a torch against the night #a reaper at the gates #a sky beyond the storm #a sky beyond the storm spoilers #musa of Adisa #cause he deserved better #I love him #best boy #my absolute fave (other than Elias and Laia ofc)#Elias Veturius #laia of serra #Helene Aquilla #Avitas Harper #emberling #ember quartet #Sabaa tahir

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mask131 · 4 years

Text

Roald Dahl The Witches: Book lore, part 3

Now, as I mentionned, in the book the Grand High Witch has samples of Formula 86 on her, in little bottles of dark blue glass. These samples are here for two purpose.

The first is a demonstration of the potion effect on children. To do so, she chooses Bruno Jenkins, a little kid that stays in the hotel and is actually a true brat. He is the "Glutton Child TM" of Dahl's writing - Bruno is a kid that literaly eats all the time and constantly thinks about food, that keeps bragging about how his father and his family have more money and belongings than other people, and he takes a delight in burning ants with a spyglass. However something quite important should be noted - in the text, Bruno is not said to be fat. I want to precise that because in a lot of adaptations he is depicted as being fat, but in the text itself it is never mentionned that he is. Quentin Blake draws him with a larger, thicker, curvier abdomen than the boy protagonist, appearing a bit pudgy. But the text itself never mentions anything about that (or maybe I missed it) - so an adaptation with a thin or regular-framed body Bruno would not be unfaithful to the original book.

The second use of the samples is that they are given to the old witches, the "ancient witches". Because witches age just like human beings, and over seventy they are considered "ancient". The witches apparently respect their elders, the Grand High Witch herself considering them faithful servants and offering them already-prepared potions. But the other witches will have to make their own potions. Because the Grand High Witch gives us the recipe to the Formula 86! (And the witches note it in their little notebooks using their saliva as ink).

Take the wrong end of a telescope (it will make the child smaller) and boil it for twenty-one hours, it should be enough to get it soft. While it boils take forty-five brown mice and chop off their tails before frying them in hair-oil until they are cripsy. The bodies of the mice should simmer in frog-juice for one hour. The next ingredient is an alarm-clock : it is what will make the formula have a delayed effect. You need to set the alarm-clock at the exact time you want the child to be turned (this is why you should use a 24 hours alarm clock), and then make it roast in the oven until it is crisp and tender. Then put it all in the mixer : the telescope and the tails and the mice and the alarm-clock. Mix it at full speed and you should have a thick paste. While the mixer is still on, add to the mix the yolk of a gruntle egg (a bird that apparently nests very high in tall trees), and then one by one the remaining ingredients: the claws of a crabcruncher (an animal that lives on high rocky cliffs), the beak of a blabbersnitch (an animal that lives in deep waters and needs to be speared), the snout of a grobblesquirt (a beast living on the bleak moors and that needs to be shot), and the tongue of a catspringer (a speedy creature that lives in burrows).

The result is a green liquid: the Formula 86.

Later in the book, the narrator/protagonist enters the room of the Grand High Witch, which is room 454 of the hotel (his own room being the 554, right above the one of the Grand High). Outside of the very strong scent of "witch stench" in the room, the Boy also notices that there are free frogs under the witch's bed. He believes that they are children she turned into animals, and later the Grand High Witch mentions that she plans on throwing the frogs on the beach to "feed the seagulls". The Boy enters in the room to find the Formula 86 bottles - which are actually hidden inside the mattress, sewn in it.

And now, for the final part, the spoilers of the ending of the book!

At the end of the book, the grandmother and her grandson discover the real identity of the Grand High Witch, or rather the adress of her Secret Headquarters. They find it in both her passport, and in the registering book of the hotel. Because yes, she put her REAL adress in there. Since no one ever knew or discovered or even suspected her to be something else than a human being, she had no reason to be worried about giving real informations. It was right under everyone's nose - the best hiding place.

As it turns out, the Grand High Witch Secret Heaquarters are in Norway, the birthing countries of witches. The Secret Headquarters are actually a castle, located at the top of a high mountain near a small village - where the Grand High Witch poses as a kind and nice Baroness giving huge sums of money to charity.

And to know the location of the Secret Headquarters is especially important - not just because it is where the money-making machine of the witches is located, not just because the adresses of all the witches in the world are archived here. But because it is where the next Grand High Witch is groomed. You see, Grand High Witches are like queen bees. When one dies, another one replaces her. There is always a Grand High Witch in waiting in the castle, ready to take her new role as leader of the witches, and it is also where all the Assistant Witches reside (special witches that assist and help the Grand High Witch, groom and prepare her replacement, and take care of the Castle).

I think this is all that I can say for the lore of witches in the original book. There is more to say, but this belongs to the category of the plot, or of spoilers.

Next will be the movies!

#grand high witch #the witches #roald dahl #book #transformation #formula 86 #recipe #witches #bruno jenkins #norway

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x1-imaginesreturns · 5 years

Text

Home for the Holidays - Wooseok

Masterlist

Pairing: Wooseok x Reader

Warnings: hits you right in the feels, I apologize

Word Count: 1,537

Notes: Sorry it’s been so long everyone!!! I’m finally on break so enjoy Wooseok’s part!! also I kinda almost cried writing this so yAyyyyyy

Song Recommendation: Epilogue: Young Forever - BTS

“Mom... are you really sure you want to put all of those ornaments on the tree?,” you daughter Chaewon asks as you pull out the oldest-looking box from your family’s shelves of Christmas ornaments.

“Of course I do dear,” you answer gently, looking over the familiar box softly, “I have to honor your father somehow, don’t I?” Chaewon nods sincerely before saying, “Of course, I don’t mean it like I don’t want you to... I’m just afraid you won’t be able to get them up on the tree yourself.”

“You’re a little old to be the one putting the ornaments on the tree now, aren’t you?,” she says, smiling at you. You laugh back and say, “You’re right, you’re right. I’m sure Woojin and Junseok would love to help me out though, and maybe hear a bit more about their grandfather as well.”

Chaewon nods, walking over to you to take the box from you, “I’m sure they would. I’ll go get them, you go take a seat on the couch, okay mom?” You nod at her happily before slowly making your way back to the couch.

As you sit down, you hear your grandsons Woojin and Junseok storm into the living room, skidding to a stop right in front of where you were sitting. “Hello there!,” you say laughing at the boys’ excited faces, “Are you boys going to help me hang grandpa’s ornaments?”

The two of them nod enthusiastically just as Chaewon walks into the living room with the box of ornaments and sets them down next to you. “Let’s let grandma decide which ornaments she wants up there, okay?”

“Are you going to tell us more about grandpa?,” Woojin asks sweetly as you pull the first ornament out of the box. “Of course dear, what would you like to know?” Junseok and Woojin share a glance and Junseok asks, “Why did he make you so many ornaments?”

You giggle softly to yourself, admiring the first one in the room’s light. It was the first one he had ever given you, which was a small dove resting on a nest sprinkled with little dots of fake snow. You could still see the place where Wooseok had glued a note to the nest.

Wooseok… that name brought so many memories back to you. But your mind focused on the memory of this particular ornament. You remember waiting outside of your high school on Christmas day, the cold breeze chilling you to the core as you forgot to wear a jacket, as you were too excited to finally get your last day of the school year over with, even if it was also Christmas day.

As another breeze whipped by, you saw your long-time crush, Kim Wooseok, approaching you. His hands were tucked behind his back, and despite his many layers, his cheeks were flushed.

He instantly saw your lack of jacket, and ran up to you, his hands never leaving from behind his back. “Y/n, are you crazy? Where’s your jacket?,” he asks sweetly, his eyes darting back and forth from yours nervously. “Oh, I just forgot it this morning, I’ll be fine Wooseok.”

“If you say so...,” he says worriedly, before shaking his head, “Here um... Merry Christmas y/n!” Wooseok pulls his hands out from behind his back, revealing the delicate dove ornament, the note he attached dangling off of the side of it.

You blush darkly before saying, “Aww thank you Wooseok! It’s really cute, I love it.” You step forward and embrace him sweetly, before backing away to read the note.

He looks down, blushing deeply as you start reading the note.

Dear y/n,

Merry Christmas!! I hope you like the ornament I made for you. And yes, I actually made it haha, I’ve been working on it for a while until it was absolutely perfect. Since it’s for you... it has to be perfect. I’ve... I’ve liked for you a while now y/n, and I don’t know... I felt like I have to confess to you with this. I can only hope that you like me back and to be honest, I’m sure I’ll run away whilst you read this. Even if you don’t like me, I hope you have a happy holiday season!

Sincerely,

Wooseok

You look back up at Wooseok to see him staring at you intensely, his eyes wild with nervousness. You look away for one second, your face lighting up with a bright shade of pink just as you look back down at him.

“I-I like you too Wooseok.”

Your mind flashed back to the present where Woojin and Junseok were staring wonderingly at the small ornament, not even noticing how you completely disappeared for a few seconds there.

“This ornament was the first one he ever made for me,” you say, gently handing the ornament to Woojin, “Be careful with it, okay?” Woojin nods determinedly, heading for the tree slowly.

As Woojin starts to hang it, you say, “And he gave that one to me on Christmas day when we were 16, which he also used as an opportunity to ask me out.” Junseok gapes at you and exclaims, “You and grandpa were really together for that long?”

You nod fondly, pulling out the next ornament. It was your one-year anniversary ornament, a snowflake that Wooseok had delicately carved from a beautiful piece of wood. And attached to the bottom of it were waterfalls of expensive gems that he had saved up to buy just for the ornament.

As you pulled out more and more ornaments, explaining each of their stories to your grandsons and watching as they carefully hung them on your Christmas tree, you felt more lonely than ever. And soon enough, the box was empty, leaving only the final ornament that he had made left.

It was for your 60th anniversary, the last one you had shared together. Out of all of the ornaments, he had made for you over the years, this was the only one that had made you cry.

He had remade the first ornament, except there were two old birds watching over the nest on a higher branch, while a new mother bird roosted over her two newborn baby birds.

Chaewon watched as you brought the ornament out, sniffling as she remembered how much you and her had cried over the ornament. Woojin and Junseok had only just been born, and to you, it finally felt like the family you had always wanted was complete.

You handed the ornament to the two of them, not saying anything as you leaned back on the couch, tears pooling into your eyes. “Chaewon,” you say shakily, “Could you drive me over to Wooseok’s grave on Christmas day?”

“We’re here mom,” Chaewon says, putting the car into park as you unbuckle your seat belt. You and her trudge out of the car and into the small graveyard that Wooseok rested in. Chaewon had brought flowers, but you, without her knowing, had taken the 60th anniversary ornament and tucked it into your sweater pocket.

When you got to the grave, Chaewon had placed her flowers down, sitting in front of his grave before she started to mutter quietly. You turned and walked a few steps, letting her have her peace.

You knew she missed her father just as much as you missed him. He had done the most to make sure Chaewon grew up well, and that she always knew she could rely on either of them for anything.

Chaewon got up and walked towards you, clearly blinking away tears. “I’ll let you have your space mom,” she says wobbly, wiping a few of her tears. You step forward wordlessly, putting your hand on her shoulder as you pass her by.

As you step in front of the grave again, you slowly lean down to sit on your knees, pulling out the ornament, which was still perfectly intact. “Wooseok, my love, I’m back,” you say, placing down the ornament at the base of his grave, “Merry Christmas my dear... and happy 64th anniversary.”

You read the dates on his grave: “Born October 27, 1939. Dead: December 26, 2015.” Tears pooled in your eyes once again as you started to feel dizzy from sadness. “Tomorrow will be exactly four years since you passed, four years that I’ve been living my life without you.”

“I know I’ll see you soon enough though, my love,” you say, letting your eyes close peacefully, as your spirit faded from your body gracefully.

As you opened your eyes again, you saw Wooseok sitting peacefully upon the crest of his grave, looking as youthful as he did on the Christmas that he had asked you out.

“You’ve finally come back to me, my love,” Wooseok says, sliding off his grave to extend his hand towards you, “Come now, let’s dance into the heavens, just like we always promised we would.”

You grab his outreached hand, and the two of you lift into the bright sky, dancing as you got closer and closer to dancing in the heavens with your beloved Wooseok.

“Merry Christmas, my dear,” he says as you burst through the clouds, “Let’s spend many more together.”

#x1 #x1 imagines #x1net #x1 reactions #x1 scenarios #wooseok #kim wooseok #x1 wooseok #up10tion wooseok #up10tion #home for the holidays

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