1 - 20 of 348 Works in Pilgrimage (2017)
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Diarmuid has seen frustration many times before, felt it just as often as the sun rises—Ciarán once said that living with monks is a constant exercise in mediation, in balancing one's humors and idiosyncrasies against those of others—but never before the Mute has he seen naked rage.
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Pre-canon. A curmudgeonly monk unintentionally angers the monastery's new laybrother. Diarmuid intervenes.
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David, a burned-out paramedic, struggling with his inner demons and muted sense of self worth, begins to find hope in the presence of a young intern.
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*COMPLETE*
Diarmuid - still traumatized by the events of the recent past - awakes to find his life changed seemingly overnight after a vision.
He was not expecting it to be like this at all.
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It’s three days before Diarmuid dreams about David, and he knows it’s a dream because one moment he’s reading his psychology book, and the next minute he’s sitting in David’s perfect lap, scratching his fingertips through that perfect beard with his head on David’s shoulder. The proximity is nice, and through the lucidity of the dream a thought crosses Diarmuid’s mind that he hasn’t been properly held since he was a child, before his mother passed. But the dream is what it is, solid lines of the approximation of David’s body warm and firm against the gentle softness of Diarmuid’s own.
David’s hands are splayed across the narrow width of Diarmuid’s lower back, pressing him close, and Diarmuid thinks that if he tries hard enough, he can maybe hear the beating of the other mans heart. The thought flits through his psyche, and then it’s gone, each thought too tangential to stick long enough to do anything other than live through the flow of the dream state.
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Diarmute Week 2025 Day 7: Lazarus
The relic is—
"A rock," says David, frowning at the museum exhibit.
Diarmuid corrects him. "It's the rock that killed St. Matthias." He taps at the information placard on the wall.
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Diarmute Week 2025 Day 6: Stigmata
Diarmuid's hands are so small compared to his own, his wrists so thin. A nail would pierce him so easily—would cut through flesh and tendon and bone to affix him to a cross.
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For Diarmute Week 2025
Day 6: StigmataAll he'd wanted was to see him at peace after so much suffering; to see him happy. And now, Diarmuid was huddled on the floor of their little hovel, shaking and sobbing as blood flowed from his clenched fists...
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Diarmute Week 2025 Day 5: Eternity
There is a moment he wants to keep—to cast in bronze, to preserve in wax, to have carved in carnelian or jasper, an intaglio ring to wear on his finger.
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Diarmute Week 2025 Day 4: Pray
The Mute has two such tunics—Diarmuid will make sure this one is washed and dried before the laybrother notices it's missing.
Before he knows what Diarmuid's done.
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Diarmute Week 2025 Day 3: Crucify
He thinks he can hide it under silence—his desire.
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Diarmute Week 2025, Day 6: Stigmata
Stigmata: bodily wounds, scars and pain which appear in locations corresponding to the crucifixion wounds of Jesus Christ: the hands, wrists, feet, near the heart, the head (from the crown of thorns), and back (from carrying the cross and scourging)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 429
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 73
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It feels wrong to watch and yet Diarmuid cannot help himself...
For Diarmute Week 2025
Day 3: Crucify -
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Diarmute Week 2025 Day 2: Glory
He thought he knew the taste of glory.
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Diarmute Week 2025 Day 1: Messiah/Antichrist
He is always looking for a savior.
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During the night, a combination of blustery winter winds and limbs frozen and laden with ice led to the toppling of one of the monastery's trees.
Come morning, after prayers, they all gathered around it, the monks' arms tucked firmly in the sleeves of their robes, and made their various remarks.
"Thanks be to God that it did not fall on one of the huts," said Brother Cathal, crossing himself.
Brother Rua said, "Well, we've a great deal of firewood for the remainder of the year. The Lord does provide."
"It will take us the rest of winter to whittle this down!"
"The Lord does provide," Brother Rua said again, slapping the Mute's back meaningfully.
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Pre-canon. A tree falls at the monastery.
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crashing to the cold beach alone except for a man in medieval garb bleeding to death. Ange is angel in french.
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Ciarán was dead, and Diarmuid could not fathom it.
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No more a drop, not for faith, not for god and specially, not for his father.
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- Part 2 of Fides Fragmenta
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 242
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Hits:
- 17
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Pre-canon. The monks make apple cider, the Mute enjoys a drink, and Diarmuid plucks up some courage.