#like people talk about how devastated theyd be if they had to leave their home but i did every other year for my whole life

[caffeinatedopossum]

Thinking about how I never understood home sickness as a kid who was constantly fantasizing about running away and would do anything to get away from my home for even just a day and how I was so confused and thought that was normal. One time I went to a summer camp for a week and there was this girl crying because she was home sick on the first day and I went to comfort her but one of the staff stopped me and I just did not understand

[wanda-peitro-lorna-maximoff]

Writing some Morgana/Mab content. For context this is set in the toa universe, but Mab in the mythos is queen of the fae. Everything else will be explained in the fic. Also Thanks to @aethling for letting me talk about headcannons for these Wlw's...

Also thanks to tumblr for DELETING THE ENTIRE FIRST HALF OF THIS AND MAKING ME REWRITE IT FUCK

The sunset was a sight to behold. A beautiful... terrible gift on today of all days. It felt like a dagger in Morganas heart. That very morning her and gwen had gone out... she had planned the whole day. Beginning to end. They would have been watching this very sunset. They were going to sit at the very spot she did now. On the cliff overlooking the coast. Listening to the waves crash on the beach and the gulls high above it... A sleepy guinevere would have been on her shoulder... and Morgana wouldnt have even noticed the scene. Gwen rivaled the very sun its self.... and then it happened.

Her brother... when her brother heard the news... he was devastated. The whole kingdom was. And maybe it was stupid of her to believe her brother would grieve with her... but she did. And now, Arthur wouldnt even speak to her.

... well, unless you count shouting and screaming. Morgana got plenty of that.

Arthur's words, and the brief, disappointing glances from Merlin... well, she assumed they were. She hadn't seen the wizard much since that morning...

As her mind drifted from the subject of her brother... a new wave of sadness hit her. Arthur's words, and the brief, disappointing glances from Merlin... well, she assumed they were. She hadn't seen the wizard much since that morning...

As she sat, she couldnt help but let her mind wander to the what ifs and the maybes. Maybe if she had known more healing spells. Maybe if she had known more binding spells. Maybe then neither her, or the creature, would have to be hurt. She would bind the poor thing and save Gwen. Maybe if she had been faster... or stronger... maybe she could have saved her... gwen was pronounced dead on arrival. It was all her fault.

Her throat grew tight... Morgana hugged herself, shutting her eyes and looking away from the sunset. Taking deep breaths, morgana forced herself up. She needed a break from the neverending crying. Itd given her a migraine. The nausea that came from the mix of pain guilt was terrible. She needed this. She needed this.

Morganas mind was free to wander as she walked closer to the wild wood. That place. The place of her dreams, the longing to be there... every late night spent with gwen and every lunch with her brother... every rock and stone skipped in the rivers... the memories cut deep. Morgana hugged herself tighter, biting her lip as it trembled uncontrollably. Her shoulders tensed... Sweet guinevere. Her gwen. Every day spent together, every hushed word and hurried promises lived in her. And it all came pouring out.

The witch finally collapsed to her knees in a sigh and a choked, quiet cry. She was trying to hold it together. To tell herself what no one else was going to... that she would be okay. But that notion was drowned out by her tears and the honeyed memories...

Morgana hadn't realized how vocal her crys had been until she felt a cold hand on her shoulder... a familiar sensation. And yet it did nothing to quell her.

The queen of the fae herself, Mab... happened upon the sobbing Morgana. She'd never seen her in such a state.

And although it had been a few years since theyd last saw eachother... it left Mab feeling unsettled to see her in this state. Without a word, the forest bent around them in a dizzying soft green blink. The threshold did not belong to her. She couldnt be there... so she took Morgana to her home. The magic of the fae... especially one in possession of a forest... was confusing and powerful. Noone could enter her home unless she wanted them to. And she could make them leave just as fast as she had brought Morgana. And if they were to ignore her gracious restraint she would be taking payment of trespassing into her own hands.

... the faeries were wise not to question their queen. And wiser to leave as soon as they saw whom she had brought.

Mab crouched to Morganas spot on the ground. She put her forehead to Morganas... an intimate gesture.

The coolness against Morganas flushed face was a welcome sensation. She didnt know what to say... or where to begin. And it didnt matter. Mab understood. "I know. I could feel their grief." Morgana only cried more at those words.

Mab cupped her face. Intricate rings, vines and twigs twisted up and around her graceful slim fingers. "I know." She held her forehead against Morganas.

But Morgana couldnt help but feel... upset. She took Mabs hands away gently, but firmly. Morganas never been one for pity or sympathy... even now when she needed it. "Do not treat me like a child." She said with an edge of bitterness.

... so Mab obliged. "Then get up." She told the witch, helping her to her feet. "You're here now. I will be here. And we will mourn her together." She held Morganas hands, looking at her seriously. Morgana didnt say a word. But she accepted it. And she was thankful...

Mab let her into the great natural gathering amongst the tree branches that she called her 'room'. Morgana knew it well. Mab set her down on a natural formation of a couch... it was a lot more human than the very first time theyd met. Mab had only a bed of leaves. Now it was fully furnished; though made entirely of nature however.... except for the vanity which was comprised of nature and the precious gems, rings and necklaces people left her in offerings of peace.

Mab took her time. She was having one of her people make tea for Morgana as she got ready.

Morgana was the only human alive that that has ever seen Mab this way... her royal ethereal look had melted away, the greenery that made her long dress, cloak, crown, all of it was gone. Now replaced with what one might call, pajamas or casual wear. It was vulnerable. It was dangerous for her to leave her royal formalities behind. Status and symbols were everything to the fae...

She sat next to Morgana once her people left the tea outside of her room, passing Morgana a 'cup'. The witch took a sip and let the steam roll over her face like a soothing balm. Her nausea was being treated by sweetener... the herbs taking care of her headache. She recognized the flavor; one of the many types of little natural remedies she picked up with her and Gwen.

As the queen of the fae undid Morganas hair, she began to speak. "... you didnt need to come and get me."

"If I didnt you would have passed out from exhaustion. Between crying and walking all the way to my forest." Mab insisted firmly as she gently set aside the ribbons that tied down the witches hair.

Morgana didnt have anything to say to that. "How did she die?" ... she choked up a bit at this. But... it needed to be said. She had to say it... she needed to talk about it.

And as Mab brushed and gently combed through Morganas hair... she told her everything. The day she planned... start to finish, the planning they both did, and how... short their time was cut. There was a small silence between them when Morgana finished... hot tears rolled down her face. But somehow? Just to have Mab there... took some of that sting away.

"You loved her." Mab stated... only pausing in her work to state this and look for Morganas reaction. Once upon a time... Morgana and Mab had been together. But the less time she was allowed out of the castle, and the more time she spent with Gwen... the more they grew apart. Mab was more upset than Morgana. But... it ended as well as it could have. Gwen was there in a way that Mab just... couldnt be. "... she was my everything."

Mab didnt know that would sting. She thought after all this time it had died, but hearing Morganas heart belonged to Gwen... it hurt. But it didnt matter. Morgana needed her.... shes never felt this way for anyone before. This sense of... generosity? Was that the word? Wanting morgana to be okay? Needing to be there for her? ... "I'm sorry I wasnt there." She said, just above a whisper. Morgana leaned back into Mabs touch, burying her nose into the crook Mabs neck and closing her eyes. Mab turned her face so that she could rest the side of her head on Morganas; holding hands as Mab gently weaved her fingers through the bottom of Morganas long hair.

A moment to breathe...

[brisbanelife]

'Everything went black': Christchurch surgeon who saved four-year-old still cries

Id never seen anything like that before, Khanafer says. Khanafer has years of experience with highly complex surgery and is used to treating adults with devastating injuries. But this time the patient was a child a weak point for the father-of-four.

Vascular Surgeon Adib Khanafer, centre, at a media briefing after the Christchurch massacre in March.Credit:Monique Ford/Stuff No words to describe the horror All he knew was that there had been a shooting. He didnt know yet the full extent of the tragedy that had unfolded at the Al Noor Mosque nearby, and at the Islamic Centre in Linwood. But he knew how he felt. The look of the girl on the table was very painful for a father, and any surgeon, to see. I cant find the words to describe how horrific it was. The girls father, who cannot be named as his daughter's name is suppressed, had been walking towards the mosque holding her hand. It would have been her first visit.

Temel Atacocugu, a victim from the Christchurch mosque shootings, leaves the Christchurch District Court on Friday.Credit:AP As they approached the entrance, they heard a friend shout: Run! Thats when the father saw the shooter, aiming straight at his daughters head. He lifted her by the hand but the first bullet hit her bottom. The second her stomach and the third her toes. The father was shot three times too. He threw his daughter between the footpath and a car for protection and threw himself next to her, playing dead. After the gunman left, strangers rushed over to help. She had lost a lot of blood already. By the time she arrived at the hospital, she was blue and had no pulse.

Abdul Aziz, center, a survivor of the Linwood mosque shootings, is embraced by friends outside the Christchurch District Court.Credit:AP 'Everything is black' March 15 started as an ordinary day for Khanafer. He cycled to work, did ward rounds and started getting ready for a scheduled surgery around 12pm. He had coffee in the morning but no lunch as he planned to get home early to spend time with his family. The day changed around 1.45pm, while Khanafer and a colleague were doing an angioplasty. There was a trauma call about a shooting but they didnt give it much attention and carried on. Loading A few weeks prior, Khanafer treated a patient who had been involved in a shooting with police during a domestic violence incident. He had repaired the mans artery in the leg. It was just another day in the office for me. Fifteen minutes later, his phone rang. A nurse took the call and put it on speaker phone. The nurse on the other side said he needed to come to theatre immediately. Its common for a vascular surgeon to be called in when there is bleeding in theatre, where the situation is usually under control. In this case, pediatric surgeons had found a major vessel injury and were panicking, Khanafer says. They demanded his presence immediately. He de-scrubbedand ran the 100 metres across the corridor to reach the operating room. Loading Once he had his surgical glasses on, Khanafer scrubbed, took a deep breath and buried his emotions to switch into vascular surgeon mode as he approached the operating table. He identified the main problem: a hole to the inferior vena cava, a major vein that carries deoxygenated blood into the right atrium of the heart. Khanafer didnt even have child-sized instruments but there was no time to waste. With major vein injuries, patients can lose about 500 millilitres of blood in five to six seconds, Khanafer says. He needed to get control at the top and the bottom of the vein to stop the bleeding. But the bullets had done so much damage Khanafer could not see anything. With gun wounds everything is black, you dont know what youre looking at. He kept washing and cleaning the area to find the edges but eventually had to take a guess. It worked: the hole was shut and everything was watertight. He moved on to injured arteries, an easier job: I put a clip on it and that was the end of it. When we had situation under control, I looked at the paediatric surgeons and said 'are you happy to carry on? I wanted to get out of there quickly. "As soon as I took off my gown and my surgical loupes, I started crying. Two colleagues came and hugged him and told him what theyd heard. A gunman had entered the Al Noor mosque and shot at worshippers. It was unclear how many people were injured or dead. 'We are all humans and we all bleed' Khanafer, who was born and raised in Kuwait and whose wife is Lebanese, is part of Christchurchs Muslim community. It dawned on him that the child he just operated on could have been his own. He immediately rang his wife. She was fine and the children in lockdown at school. He didnt have time to chat longer several patients needed his help. Meanwhile, their 13-year-old daughter, who was in Auckland for a soccer tournament, texted her mum to tell her to take off her hijab. She was worried for her, Khanafer says. Her mother reassured her: There is nothing to worry about. We are still in Christchurch, we are still in a safe place and we have to have faith in the systems around us, Khanafer says she told her. Still, the teenager texted her mum every hour that afternoon to check on her. The family moved to Christchurch in 2010 after 15 years in the UK, where Khanafer completed his medical training. He knew two people who died in the attack, including one of his patients. His children two girls aged 13 and 14, and two boys aged seven and eight used to take Arabic lessons with the Linwood Mosques Imam. When Khanafer first heard there had been a mass shooting, he worried the gunman was an Islamic fanatic. When he learnt it was Muslims in their place of worship who had been the target, he was shocked. When we pray, our back is to the door. It was a cowardly act against peaceful people. Khanafer stresses he would have been equally shocked if the shooting had happened in a church, a temple, a synagogue, or even a mall, concert hall or stadium. As a doctor, religion comes at the bottom for me. We are all humans and we all bleed. A long night The gunman shot at least 98 people. Forty-nine of them died at one of the mosques. The rest arrived at the emergency department, many suffering life-threatening injuries. One died at the hospital on the day and another succumbed to his injuries a couple of months later. Emergency medicine clinical lead Dominic Fleischer previously said 180 units of blood were used on March 15, with 12 operating theatres working at once. Khanafer was called in to help with five other patients that afternoon. Around 8pm, he had done all he could. He cycled home in the dark, pedalling fast. He was keen to hug his wife and children. He barely had time for a meal before he was called in to hospital again at 10.30pm to help with two patients. At midnight, he went to the intensive care unit to check on the little girl. She was about to be transferred to Starship Hospital in Auckland but became unstable. Khanafer called his paediatric surgeon colleague. They found another hole in the vein, along with two other bleeding points, which they repaired. Within an hour, she was ready to transfer. Khanafer reassured the childs parents. Her condition was critical but he was confident she would survive. He went back home about 1.30am. Muslims are meant to pray before sunset on Fridays but on March 15, Khanafer prayed late. Khanafer is one of 11 children. He said his phone rang all night with friends and family from overseas checking the family was OK as well as colleagues from around the world sharing words of support. He eventually fell asleep at around 5am. I dont think anyone in Christchurch went to bed early that day. 'Miracle kid' on the mend Khanafers daughter is not as worried for her mother anymore. I told my daughters this is the time to wear the hijab, but they said no. His two younger boys, aged seven and eight, were less affected. They are in their own world; they laughed at me when they saw me crying on TV. The little girl has been discharged from Starship Hospital and is receiving fulltime care at a rehabilitation centre. She still cant see and it will take up to a year of rehab for her to walk again but she remembers the attack and is now talking. Shes a miracle kid, her father says. At the end of the hour-long interview, Khanafer jokes that the photographer must be asleep. He apologises for talking for so long, and for getting emotional. Every time I talk about [the girl], I cry a little bit. I try not to. It was an evil thing to happen. I hope it never happens again. Stuff.co.nz Most Viewed in World Loading https://www.brisbanetimes.com.au/world/oceania/everything-went-black-christchurch-surgeon-who-saved-four-year-old-still-cries-20190614-p51xw1.html?ref=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_source=rss_feed