#Hireath

[the-pen-pot]

👀

(No, I haven't actually finished writing Hiraeth yet, but I'm getting there, and it's definitely of a length where it will need to be split over two volumes for the sold-at-cost print run.)

(Potential release.... September??? Maybe?)

[blueberry-ovaries]

CHAPTER ONE: HELL IS A SANDY TOWN IN NORTH AFRICA

A/N: i’m so excited to present the first chapter of hiraeth! I really hope you guys love Winnie as much as I do! thank you all so much for the love <3

Word count: 1.9k

Content warnings: violence, swearing, reference to implied extreme violence (only before and after, no detailed description), probably historical inaccuracy

< prologue > - < next chapter >

The sand in Tobruk was different to the sand at the beach Winnie decided. In Tobruk, it was sharp. Small flecks leaving traces of dirt on her cheeks, specks of blood blooming against her skin. Her rucksack held diminished resources, her bandages covered in a layer of dust and grime. Her MRE supply dwindling every time the hot dessert was drowned under a blanket of night. Sometimes they had fires, but most of the time they were left to huddle together, utilising bodies for warmth.

Fires drew attention and attention drew bullets. Being surrounded on three of the four sides was relentless work, fighting and survival. Much more so when the fourth side was a small shipping dock. A dock that may seem irrelevant, but in the grand scheme of the war, that small little dock could change the course of the war in Europe.

Severely out numbered and surrounded, the Allies were forced to fight for mere inches of land. The Germans would not get to the dock. So they dug in. Put the hospital underneath an old tree in the hardened sand, and rationed their food for months on end.

Silver marks littered her skin, scars showcasing her survival. Seven in total, the largest, one running from nose to cheek on her right side. In her fourth month in Tobruk, A small squad of German soldiers broke the line, guns raised and bayonets fastened. They charged Winnie and her squad, a small group watching the line. Their guns lay forgotten next to their game of cards, as they fought with fists and rocks.

Winnie was pinned. An arm against her neck, knife to cheek. Squirming against the hot sand as her cheeks flush with exertion. He flicks a look down her face, ah a woman- a girl. Such a shame that a pretty thing like you is stuck in such a horrible place. His breath was hot against her skin as she pushed against him, his arms much more refined than that of a sixteen year old girl. Tell me, how do they treat a pretty thing like you? She spits, he flinches back, a snarl on his lips. stupid bitch he growls, as he presses down on her neck, his forearm cutting off air supply. He slices the knife down, the top of her nose to her right cheek. Blood streams down her chin as she screams. She was going to die, afraid and pinned.

His arms move to pin hers above her head as she writhes and squirms against it. Her chest heaved, eyes darting frantically. out. she needed to get out. The sting of the blade cutting through flesh holds no place in her mind. out. out. out. His free arm holds her face in a loose grip, he spits out threats of a slow death and insults.

As he moves the hand on her face towards her neck with a firm hand, and his face pressed near her ear, the world freezes. It’s just Winnie and the german soldier, and one of them would die tonight. Her arms can’t break free to reach the knife, his legs have caged hers down. So like a rabid dog, she bares teeth.

When the pounding in her ears becomes a soft ringing and her chest no longer racks with shuddered breaths. The metallic taste on her tongue drips from her chin. She looks down at her hands, shaking. His blood pools around him, shining in the reflection of the moon. i’m a monster. i’m a monster… or maybe a dog backed into a corner, forced to bare teeth and bite.

—

5th of August, 1942

With a gasp she shoots to a sitting position, the room blurry with sleep. Chest heaving Winnie swings her socked feet onto the ground, hands tangled in her hair. Her shirt sticks to her back although it’s cold and coming into winter.

Two days ago, Winnie was stationed at the Toccoa Georgia Base camp, where she would join the 2nd Battalion ,506th parachute infantry regiment, 101st division, easy company. She’s told they are going to be the best of the best. If you asked her, she would say they can’t be that good if they are yanks.

Today is the day. She meets her new platoon, new faces, same issues. Colonel Sink had graciously taken in the teen, assuring her commander in the ANZAC’s that she would fit right in, if she’s really as good as they say.

The morning wake up happened shortly after Winnie was dressed, packed and ready to go. Swinging her bag over her shoulder and grabbing her new yank hat. She made her way towards Colonel sinks office.

With a firm hand she knocks, straightening out her ever crooked collar

“Come in” the colonels gruff voice calls from behind the door

taking a shuddering breath, Winnie opens the door, walking in, standing with her hands behind her back. Frowning slightly at the odd looks she’s receiving

“Oh, right sorry” she mumbles, standing at attention.

As Colonel Sink gives her a salute in return she stands with her arms tucked behind her back. She shifts on her feet, picking at the skin around her nails.

“Colonel Sink, sir? i was asked to come and see you” she states hesitatingly “Winifred Hayes, your new-“

“I know who you are sergeant” the Colonel cuts her off. The older man pushes up on his desk to a stand, walking around to lean on the front of his desk, arms crossed over his chest as he stares down at her.

“Right. of course… sir” she answers quickly

“Do you know why you’re here Miss Hayes?” he asks firmly. Although older, and his hair more grey than brown, Colonel Sink held an aura of respect that was hard to not obey. Even someone like Winnie, who grew up in an informal setting, and called her previous leaders and CO’s various nicknames, knew that the man was someone to be respected. That’s not to say she held no respect for her previous CO’s, no. She respected them greatly, but the jump from Australian to American norms was a shock.

“To serve… sir?” Winnie stutters slightly, trying to remember that sir is used more consistent here. It was rather bothersome.

“Well i would hope so Miss Hayes” He answers with a light chuckle. “you are here because, you’re good.”

“Sir…?” Winnie frowns. Of course she was good.

“Never in all my years in the army have I heard of a woman, much less a girl, fighting in a war, to the extent you have, no less” He congratulates “And there ain’t much of you either! Look at you!” With a wheezy laugh the Colonel claps a hand over her shoulder

“Oh… well thank you… Sir” confused and quite frankly startled at the congratulations, Winnie picks up her bag, following Colonel Sink outside

“Now, don’t be too startled by your new CO. He’s tough, but i think you’ll fit right in with the men. Easy company is going to be our best” he explains, Winnie nodding along “Don’t expect him to go easy on you just ‘cause you’re a girl either, he’s gone treat you the same as the men”

The mans southern accent was quite odd. Winnie couldn’t place where it was from. Not that she knew much about southern accents

“Now, unfortunately we don’t have the space for a women’s only area, so you’re just gone have to figure it out with the men” Colonel Sink kept a firm grip on her shoulder as he walked towards, what Winnie assumes is her new company.

“Lieutenant Sobel, Winters” Colonel Sink returns the salute “This here is your new easy company member”

“…Sirs” Winnie salutes the two men, giving an awkward smile as they return it.

“Now i got some business to attend to, i trust she will be fine in your capable hands?” The Colonel finalises as he leaves

——

Winnie had never wanted the ground to swallow her whole more than she does right now.

She’s standing. In front of all of Easy company, as they stare at her. She can’t tell if it’s curiosity, hate or confusion.

“Men.” Sobel yells “Colonel Sink has decided that we deserved to be punished, in some form. At least that is the only reason i can think that a girl has been placed in our platoon”

Winnie pulls a face of disgust… or maybe it’s anger. Before she realises where she was and quickly stares blankly. An awkward silence had fallen over the group as she shifted her, rather heavy mind you, bag on her shoulder

“I expect each and every one of you to treat her” Sobel was glaring at her, she could feel the disgust in his eyes and words “how she deserves to be treated.”

Swallowing what she was sure was a string of curses Winnie feels a hand in her shoulder, Lieutenant Winters… was it?… And all the Easy men were gone. She had zoned out. again.

“Winifred Hayes was it?” The red headed man asked “Lieutenant Winters”

He held his hand out expectantly. She shook it firmly. Just like dad taught. Before being led away from the training ground

“Yes, although just Winnie is fine” with an appreciative smile she follows his lead “Only my grandmother calls me Winifred”

“Well just Winnie… Dick is also fine, when it’s not a formal setting of course” He smirked

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to upset a formal setting” Winnie answered with an awkward smile

“Let me grab that for you” Dick offered, reaching for her bag

“Oh… it’s really no worry, it’s probably pretty heavy” She mumbles as she rubbed the back of her neck

“I insist. It’s the least i could do after watching you stand in-front of the men like that” Instantly he took her bag from her shoulder “The men aren’t as bad as they look. I’m sure you’ll get along just fine… although many of them haven’t expected a girl at training”

“It’s fine. Not many people do” Winnie answers honestly, the steps to the barracks creaking under the weight of the two of them

The door creaks open, the shuffling inside the room freezing at the intrusion of the two new people, card games lay on various beds, feet kicked up with books and magazines being read. Instantly the men all stand to salute

“At ease gentlemen” Winters salutes back

The men fall back into a relaxed stance, staring… glaring? at Winnie. She gives an awkward smile.

“Gentlemen, this is Winnie Hayes, she’s new to Easy.” Winnie shifts on her feet ���i expect you all to be kind to her, show her around. She’s one of us now, and she may just have some… wisdom to pass on”

Dick places her bag on an empty bed between two men, one a surly looking man with a sharp jaw, the other a red headed man who somehow had three people squashed onto his bed. The atmosphere only became more tense as Lieutenant Winters left, the door slamming behind him

“Where you from?” the surly man questioned, his accent was different to Colonel Sinks and Lieutenant Winters, it was more rough around the edges

“Why the fuck you wanna know?” She answers crossing her arms over her chest.

The surly man raises an eyebrow. great fucking going Winnie, piss off the first person you talk to. But to her surprise his lip quirks in a smile

“You got some bite to ya” he smirks.

She goes to answer as the door slams open again really should get that fixed. Sobel stands in the doorway, a glare on his face as he yells

“Get dressed we’re running Currahee”

A overall groan leaves the men after he leaves. Winnie just had one question…what the fuck was a currahee?

——

A/N: Winnie’s hatred for Americans will be explained! although it’s not a proper hatred

TAG LIST: @malarkgirlypop @footprintsinthesxnd @mads-weasley @bucky32557038ww2 @grumpy-liebgott @executethyself35

[harrierttv]

You cannot know how excited I am for the season finale of Hireath!!

@allurasgrace

[confusedgeckotree]

Ever just wear a cowboy hat for over 12 hours and take it off and get phantom cowboy hat sensations like it's supposed to be there I keep half feeling it there Where's my fucking hat help its supposed to be on my head

[writingamongther0ses]

STS woah! Happy STS! My question to you... is there any super old architecture in your worlds at all? Or any notable places at all? Tell me about buildings, basically, would love to hear about some cool buildings :)

Ooh, the first thing that comes to mind is the Emerald Palace in Oz in Hireath!

The Emerald City and palace were built with the help of the Nome people, marble and emerald together, and are centuries old. If someone were to guess, the palace seems to have started out looking like an English castle from the early medieval period. Over the years, as the Pastoria line soaked in more and more fae, more was added to the place, including a truly staggering amount of secret passages that used fae trickery. The Wizard used some of the passages to help his illusions, but the only one who truly knows the full layout is Ozma "Tip" Pastoria.

[ur-mousey]

Confessional ~

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

*Ingrid*

"Sister got her eyes on you~" Annika singsonged into my ear.

I replied, "She must have the fattest crush on me." The pews were stocked full with herds of other students, one by one entering the booth to confess their mortal sins.  

Annika giggled alongside me, tapping eagerly at my knee. "Ingrid, hear me out. We sneak off to the shore tonight. Maybe we'll spot that wretched island of yours."

"It won't show," I whispered. "It doesn't like washed-up whores like you." I smothered kisses along the curve of her nose and hung off her shoulders. I glanced at Sister Grace Marie who scowled at the display. Her face puffed and reddened like an apple I wished to bite.

"So, is it a no to sneaking out?" 

I turned to Annika humming a tune of the isle. I longed for the lute to wash over the melody as the procession of drums amounted to greater heights, bouncing off the cave walls. Women had danced to this song and sung it to their children in the early hours in the vegetable field. Women sang this song each summer solstice and when children were blessed by their first bleed. It was a song of pure womanhood, which only I bear. And I kept it locked in a safe, buried behind my rib cage, scared that it'd be taken away from me. I was seldom aware that my home no longer existed outside of my body.

"I would go anywhere with you. And out of this damn church."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I hope you guys enjoy this small excerpt from the first chapter of Hireath. Head over to Wattpad to read the full version. Follow my socials.

Wattpad = @ calypssee, #second.thoughts  |  ig = lil.thoughts.xo

[everdeenxmellark]

“country roads,

take me home.

to the place I belong.”

- john denver

[alexander-arcturus-black-lupin-r]

Hiraeth

In this case it's the literary world we indulge ourselves in. We live and experience everything till we pertain a sense of comfort. It becomes our home. But how can we return to a home that never was and never will exist outside of our minds and our books

[selenium-archive]

And She's Buying A Stairway To Heaven.

[lynbelisle]

Hiraeth: The Face at the Edge of a Dream

In the Welsh language, there is a word that comes close to conveying the idea of the last traces of a dream fading away: “hiraeth.“ (“Hiraeth” is pronounced as HEERaiyth in English phonetics.) “Hiraeth” is often described as a deep longing or yearning, particularly for something that is lost or unattainable, which can be linked to the fading remnants of a dream. There is no word in English that…

[blueberry-ovaries]

HIRAETH

A/N: hello! welcome to my first fic! Just a preface that this story is a work fiction based on the HBO adaption and not on the real easy company men, who fought like heros. Winifred Hayes is a work of my own imagination based on facts of history and battles. This fic is no way meant to disrespect or disregard the sacrifice men and women who fought in the war.

please let me know if you wish to be added to the tag list!

Story Warnings: Swearing, violence, sexism, inaccurate recounting of history (warnings will be at the start of chapters as well!)

visuals

playlist

prologue: The story of Winifred Hayes

chapter one: Hell is a sandy town in North Africa

chapter two: Maybe Hell is a large mountain in Toccoa, Georgia

chapter three: Broken noses are a great conversation starter

chapter four: Bold faced lies and cigarettes

[dirtyrobber70]

... put on a little Emily Lou and our dancing shoes tonight...

[postcardsfromheapside]

It is true. It's the heartache of leaving a home you never actually knew.

Anytime you finish lotr or the hobbit it’s the loneliest most gut wrenching desolate feeling in the world lmao. 100% meant this to sound that dramatic because it’s true. Frodo sailing off or Bilbo letting Gandalf in the door and it showing the lonely mountain map. My heart sinks every time.

[confusedgeckotree]

Tfw I do not trust planes in the slightest but we don't wanna drive and there are no good train routes between Ohio and Oregon last I checked ;-;

I just wanna go on a train for once in my life!!! That's ALL I ask for!!!! A single train!!!!! Please!!!!! I NEED to play Red Signal on a train!!!!!

Man...

[everdeenxmellark]

“somewhere in germany but I can’t place it,

man i hate this part of texas.

close my eyes, fantasise

three clicks and i’m home”

- i know the end

[mentallyinvernation]

Courting disaster for the wip game <3

Heya!

Courting Disaster (the title will proooobably change it's just a filler atm) is an Alpha/Beta/Omega, arranged marriage, royalty AU. I blame the entire thing on Queen Charlotte because I watched that and immediately got ✨inspired✨so it very very very loosely follows that.

ANYWAY, a snippet for your time:

“God’s wounds, you could at least pretend to have a good time. It’s supposed to be our wedding day, is it not?” “It is.” “I get it. I’m a troll to you.” Hob mutters. “You’ve made that much perfectly clear.” Dream diligently refrains from rolling his eyes. “I do not believe you to be a troll.” “Then you despise me, correct?” “You are my husband.” Dream replies by way of answering, though his expression remains a practised blank.  “Impressive how you made those two things sound synonymous.” A wry smile twists the corner of Dream’s lips. “I do not despise you. I was transported overseas so that I might be here with you. How could I be anything but happy? A crowd of nameless faces cheer for our union. It is their wish to see us dance, so I will dance. It is most unfortunate that my family could not attend on such short notice, and it is unlikely I will see much of them henceforth. But no matter. I consider it a great honour to wed a man I met mere hours ago. A man whom, from the moment I stepped foot inside these walls, I have been poked, prodded, weighed, and assessed to ensure that I am fit to please. So tell me, Your Majesty, do I please you? Have your staff succeeded in presenting me as an adequate mate?”  Hob’s mouth hangs open. “Of course, you’re -” “Then the matter is settled.” Dream interrupts, tone sharper than the edge of a steel blade. “I cannot despise you. I do not despise you. You are my husband. We are the Crown. I have been agreeable. It is done.”

As you can see, they're both very happy 🙃🫠