#fy mach i means 'my little one'

[moreaugriffins]

The Uneventful life of Silas

part 1

part 2

part 3

Bet y'all weren't expecting to see this pop up again (and neither did I tbh) but here is an update over a year later

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18 years ago (7 years), Silas started helping out with the farm. Eliana begrudgingly allowed Silas to help out with picking out the weeds, and watering the plants. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy having an extra pair of hands to help around the place, but Silas had the tendency to get distracted, and be a major distraction. This time was no different. “Mum.” Silas chirped, as he ran towards her. She ignored him, as she dropped the logs in her arms, with the rest of them. In her defence, she was concentrating on the chores, and he had pestered her several times that day. “Mummmmm.” He continued,”mum mum mum mum mum-” “What is it now, Silas?” She sighed, looking at her son, bouncing on the balls on his feet. Gods save her, he was covered head to toe in mud, and had grass stains all over his clothes, and - was those some bruises? How on earth did that happen? He was meant to be simply picking weeds and watering plants, for crying out loud,”silas, why are you so dirty?” He shrugs,”it doesn't matter. Here!” Silas handed her a collection of flowers. No, not a collection, an arrangement. It was a small bouquet (big for a tiny child like him, of course). He grinned wildly, proud of his work, so sure that his mum would love it - and to be fair, she did. Daffodils were her favourite flowers, and mixed with some pink roses, and some flowers she couldn’t identify, it was certainly a good attempt at a bouquet. She didn’t have the heart to tell him, however, that the flowers were half crumpled, at least a third of the petals were gone, and that they clearly came from Theron’s garden.. Those flowers weren’t meant to be plucked. Oh well, she’ll talk to her partner later. Eliana smiled softly, and bent down to kiss his forehead. “Thank you, fy mach i.” She said,”You’ve certainly got an eye for flowers. The bouquet is beautiful.” “I read it from one of ren’s books.” “Oh?” “Well, ren read it to me. There were lots of big words, so I just looked at the pictures. Knew you’d like it!” And before she could say anything else, he sprinted back to the house. She shook her head to herself, and laid the flowers on the ground, before continuing with the chores.

17 years ago (8 years), Silas came home from school, with a skip in his step. It wasn’t that Eliana and Theron weren’t happy that their child was happy, but it was certainly an odd sight to see, when Silas is most often known for rushing home, relieved to finally be free from boring old school. He walked through the door, and Theron noticed that Silas was humming a small tune to himself, as he took off shoes, so as to not bring any muck inside. “What tune are you humming, buddy?” They asked, curious as to what the unknown tune was. “Hm? Oh, some song the teacher sang today. Catchy tune.” “How fun! Maybe you could teach it to me sometime.” 

Silas smiled, somewhat nervously, at the idea,”yeah, maybe.” Theron and Eliana shared a look, but didn’t press on the hesitancy. He was allowed to say ‘no’ if he wanted, but the village had some.. Odd stories they’d like to tell the children, which they weren’t a big fan of. They had seen the effects of these stories, on their son, how restless he was at night, and his nervousness when he believed he forgot to be polite. 

“So.. How was school?” Eliana asked, changing subject. He brightened at that. “I got top of the class in the maths test!”

17 years ago, Silas was visibly shaking, his breaths short and shallow, and quick, as Eliana examined the injuries on his left arm and leg. Theron, in the meantime, rubbed their son’s back, telling him reassurances,  though they doubted he could hear, since he was muttering  ‘no no no’ over and over. Silas was always a clumsy child. He would bump into any object, or knock over a number of breakable items - he even tripped over thin air, several times - so he was no stranger to getting injured. However, he had been growing steadily more worried about getting injured, for reasons unknown to his parents. It broke their heart to see their son get into such a panicked state over simple scrapes and scratches, and, honestly, they felt guilty for not noticing this change sooner, for not helping sooner. If they had, then maybe Silas wouldn’t be in this state. Eliana watched as Theron coached their son through some breathing exercises, calming him down enough to focus on his surroundings. “fy ngwas i?” Silas looked at her, with tired, and tearful eyes,”It’s but a few scratches. You’ll be ok, nothing you can’t heal from.” He seemed to relax slightly at that, but gave a look of uncertainty. “Will.. Will it leave a scar?” He asked. “As long as we clean the wounds, keep them covered, and don’t pick at the scabs, they shouldn’t leave a scar.”

 Silas let out a sigh of relief, finally leaning onto his ren. 

“Was that what you were worried about?”

He nodded. “Can’t have scars.” Theron looked at their wife, confused, as if she wouldn’t understand what Silas meant. She just shrugged back, equally confused. “What do you mean by that, buddy?” Theron asked. “Scars mean you’re bad.”They frowned,”Who's been saying that?” “Others.” “That’s utter poppycock. Your ma has lots of scars from all the farming, and repairs she does. I have a few even, though, admittedly, they came from rather silly accidents.. Do you reckon we’re bad people?” Silas shook his head, even seemed a little offended by the question. “Well there you go littlun. Some proof that scars don’t come from being bad people.” Eliana and Theron could see that Silas seemed conflicted, an argument on the tip of his tongue, but decided not to voice it out loud.

[likesomekindofcheese]

Yo, yo, yo! I saw that you were taking ships and I am addicted to them, and I’m going to be a right pain in the arse and ask for The Beatles, Queen and BoRhap, but feel free to leave a couple out if you don’t have the time. Nihao, my name is Freya and I am from South Wales, and I speak fluent Welsh because I am a very cultured bitch, I know (sarcasm, I’m not cocky). I am around 5”4” but I don’t really know and I have ginger hair, blue-grey eyes and pale skin with loads of freckles. There’s more

“I’m thicc™️ but it doesn’t tend to bother me but when I do get insecure, I get really insecure. My insecurities are my stretch marks, body and acne, but in the long run, it makes me stronger. I love Musicals and plays, I do love a bit of Shakespeare and I love the musical Evita. I take piano and singing lessons, I’m teaching myself the guitar and bass. I also belong to a youth theatre which I dedicate myself to and I love learning about history. Again, there’s more, I’m so sorry.

What else? I’m veggie, though I did slip up at Christmas, but I had been going strong for 6 months. I have every strong opinions about basic human rights and I am kind of an atheist because I think God is a bit prejudiced, sorry to all the Christians, I respect your opinion please respect mine. My favourite Queen song is ‘39 and my favourite Beatles song is In My Life. Also, I’m a huge Elvis, Lady Gaga, Lana Del Rey and Fleetwood Mad fan. Thank you so much for your time and so sorry for the spam”

Hello Freya!  It is no bother at all. Don’t be sorry about the Spam, it is actually helpful! Plus, I can completely relate to being addicted to ships. Literally, this is me the second a blog says that ships are open (plus, yay! Another person who loves classic rock AND theatre!)

For The Beatles, I ship you with...

John Lennon!

John is a snarky, sarcastic boi, so he loves that you get his humor and you two immediately click.

Though if he does or says anything you disagree with, once you call him out he stops it immediately and learns to fix it (like, imagine him being the Darcy to your Elizabeth Bennett)

He adores your hair and eyes, he thinks they look beautiful and he loves to cuddle up close to you can try to count the freckles on your face.

He sees you trying to learn instruments and manages to round the other boys to come around and help you, especially so they can all know what a smart, pretty girl John has. (Basically subtly showing you off as well

He loves to look at your hands and how pale they are and kiss them, comparing them to little clouds next to his, bc he is an artitstic, poetic bf to you.

Even though you got plenty of love letters from him while touring that are just blathering how much he loves and misses you like a Tumblr shitpost at one in the morning with some subtle marks of lips where he kissed the letters and even a couple possible tear drops

He also has a, ahem, thing for you being thicc, but it’s all good natured and fun.

He is an atheist too so he understands your emotions about religion, so you two get to have deep conversations in the car, train, or while cuddling.

It also means you both get to sleep in on Sundays, and he loves to make you tea and toast.

You helped him write In My Life and he thanked you so much, he practically spun you around when it was completed.

Best quality, his wiggles

For Queen, I ship you with...

John Deacon!!

John loves your height, and he loves being hugged by you so that way he can wrap his arms around you until you both look like a pair of koalas.

If you ever feel insecure about your acne in partiular, he will squeeze your hand and assure you that it means nothing. “Without your skin, Freya, how and where could I kiss you?”

You two go to see musicals and plays together all the time, often going to dinner and drinks after talking over every detail and having the most amazing time.

Even if it is a bad show or production, it means you both get to be snarky and sarcastic together and have the post-show roast session in the restaurant and car.

Plus, he gets to help with the tech stuff for your youth theatre with his skills in economics.

There was one night where you had trouble sleeping or were upset or worried, and sweet Deaky held you and serenaded you with “39″, even though he is not too confident about his singing.

“John, you sounded beautiful” you coo, as you hug him back and he soothes your ginger hair. 

He gives you his toothy grin and thanks you, before going to get you a cup of tea and talk about your troubles together before snuggling back into sleep.

As for Bohrap, I ship you with...

Gwilym Lee!!

If you ever find yourself getting upset about your stretch marks, Gwil traces them softly and calls them your “battle scars” or call them rivers.

Plus, since he is of Welsh descent, he loves dating you! You two can talk in Welsh and have Welsh in-jokes. You even text in Welsh and exchange Welsh curse words in front of the Bohrap cast, much to their confused amusement.

Since he is toll, he especially loves calling you “fy mach i”, “fy cariad bach” etc.

Even “Annwyl Freya”, which he had carved on a Love Spoon and given to you for your first year together.

When you both saw the professional production/tour Evita, he put on his nicest suit and you looked especially breathtaking in a dark blue outfit that complimented your hair and skin, he said you were the true beauty of the night.

Though after seeing it, you two got a small in joke of loudly singing “EVIIIIITA! EVIIIIITAA!” with your arms raising up twice, especially across the rooms of your flat together. (in addition to playing it often on road trips or plane rides)

Speaking of music, he loves to get guitars and play covers of songs you like while you do something simple like writing or cooking.

His favorite is playing “Love Me Tender” and singing it softly so he can see you smile.

You both love to read parts of Shakespeare dialogue and sonnets to each other, sometimes he will even lull you with sonnets until you are asleep and kiss your forehead good night.