#who could have chosen like 17 year olds

[anotherpjofan]

Percy: They decided to send three 12 year olds on a quest that may or may not destroy the world if we fail?

Grover: I’m 24 actually

Annabeth: And you chose us

[bugsludge]

Maybe the rage deal in the last episode wasn’t JUST “You live but have extreme amounts of rage.” What if they were offered their wildest dreams and the rage was a clause in like microfont bc to them the gifts of achieving their goals and living seems like a great deal especially for children. The rage pushes them to achieve a goal, the rat grinders are KIDS they arnt gonna have crazy outrageous dreams and ambition at 17 years old, I knew nothing when I was that age.

You have a crush on a girl for a couple years and want to catch her attention? Bam. Get more confidence, become buff, get noticed first the first time ever. Oisin was completely unrecognizable before but now after all this?

You hate another rogue so much you want to be better than him? Bam! Kipperlily finds the rogue teacher first AND signs up for the election assuming riz would be the one to do it bc why would Kristen Applebees want to be president? Which could be an event bigger fuel to KLCK’s fire.

You want to be a famous musician and you’re jealous of a bard in school who never goes to class but has what you don’t? Bam! Ruben copies her look and produce music when she’s on hiatus as well as getting signed by her label

Mary Anne’s is small and girly she was probably bullied and wanted to make it stop, so shes now indifferent, and strong enough to stand up for herself, she sees Gorgug on the first day of school get decked in the face jsut to grow into this strong guy and sees him as inspiration

Lucy was content with life, she loved her friends, loved her god and knew the rage wasn’t what she wanted to have to live with. The resurrection is supposed to help them feel fulfilled but she’d just be more unsatisfied with life if she took the offer. Lucy was happy with what she had, and had no further aspirations, she loved her god and 'stuck to her guns'

Buddy dawn a follower of helio, watches the chosen one of his church abandon everything, he’s sad and confused as to why she did what she did. He dies and is offered the chance to become the chosen one for an unnamed god, he’s scared, helio is missing, and if Kristin took an offer from a new god and was okay why wouldn’t he be?

The rat grinders were scared kids who needed a miracle, and one was offered CHILDREN WILL SCREAM FOR HELP UNTIL THEY ARE ARE OFFERED SANCTION, IT DOESN’T MATTER WHO THE SAVIOR IS

[spinderella-umbrella]

@wolfstarmicrofic | 27-03: Expecto Patronum | 574 words

“Sir, I— would it be possible to demonstrate my patronus privately?” Sirius asks this years DADA teacher, tone lowered to not catch the attention of the other students as they revised for the mid term examination being held in the second period.

“All students must demonstrate their patronus in the same conditions, Mr. Black.” The professor states gruffly, a little too loud, Sirius looking up to see that they had at least caught the attention of a few students in the first row, as well as Remus, damn his wolf hearing, in the back. He flushes, beginning to stutter.

“But— it… Sir, you must know that a patronus can be quite revealing…”

The professor just stares blankly back at him. “And what kind of life threatening secrets does a 17 year old have, pray tell?”

Sirius frowns, biting back the correction that he’s 18, thank you very much- lip isn’t going to help his case. Instead he just nods at the teacher, and returns to his seat.

He crosses his arms on the table and lays his head down on them, feeling a bit defeated. It had taken him forever to get it, and when he finally did… He huffs, felling sorry for himself, because now he’s going to have to throw the practical exam.

Remus slides into James’ vacant seat- he’s off talking to Lily, or bugging her, more likely.

“You okay?” Remus asks, ever the gentle, caring giant. Sirius can’t bring himself to look at him, he just grunts.

“Have you still not been able to get it? Is that why you…” Remus tries, and Sirius sighs heavily, turning his head to face Remus but not lifting it from his arms. He meets warm eyes and he could just lie, and say he hadn’t gotten it.

Remus’ patronus was a wolf. Not the kind of wolf that he was, but a wolf all the same. Strong, powerful.

But Sirius’ was Moony. Anyone who had been paying attention in their previous years classes would know that it wasn’t an ordinary wolf.

And it’s unlikely Remus would take it for what it was- that Sirius was entirely devoted to him, mind, body, soul and curse— likely seeing it as Sirius not taking the danger being close to Moony every full moon seriously.

“I— I can cast a patronus.” Sirius says quietly, turning his face back down into his hands. He can’t do this.

“Okay…” Remus says, not pushing.

When it comes to Sirius’ turn, he barely casts a whisp. His second try, a poor excuse for a shield.

He can’t risk it.

Later in the dorms, James corners him and asks what happened, because he was the person that Sirius went to when he finally got it, insisting they celebrate. He hadn’t shown him though, and now, James demands to see it, because Sirius won’t even go to dumbledore to explain the situation.

With a heavy sigh, Sirius draws on his chosen memory, and casts, “Expecto Patronum,” a fully corporal patronus of Moony erupting from his wand.

“Oh.” James says,

“Yeah.” Sirius echoes, watching Moony prance around the room.

“So you like. Properly fancy him huh.” James says, and Sirius groans, throwing himself back onto his bed.

“What am I going to do!”

“You could just tell him.” Remus answers from the door he hadn’t even realised was ajar, Sirius bolting up at the sound of his voice with wide eyes. “He might just tell you he likes you too.”

[radiocrypt-id]

I got- I can't!

Imagine being 15, you've grown up your whole life with this one belief in this one God and you were told you were Chosen by Him, for Him. And you're 15. You believe so fully in the spirit of your religion, not necessarily the word, that you want to go to a non-religious school to try and help other kids maybe find your God because you genuinely believe that could be helpful to some of them, because it's all you know, and it's helped other strangers (human trafficking victims she helped in the black pit before) so why not other kids her age? You're 15 and all you can think about is helping others. And you start thinking about your religion, and reading books, and asking questions and you come to the conclusion that maybe your God and His Father aren't actually all that great. Maybe the church you're in has done some really bad things that you can't possibly make up for. Maybe that church is still doing bad things. And then you find out your family is actually in a cult for that God, not just part of the normal church, and you suddenly have to undo all the cult shit in your brain you were raised with, while that cult stuff you know about is actually useful to your friends, like having that knowledge is helpful for them! You're 15 and you stop going home. You have no real adult supervision or carer, just your other 15 year old friends.

Imagine you're 16, you're gay and figuring that out on top of navigating your first full romantic relationship and being the sole creator and cleric to a new God that you honestly find to be very two dimensional and empty. You're on a quest to find an evil being and stop them. You nearly die. Your friends nearly die. You're 16. You're 16 and feel something calling out to you, you know it's divine because you've felt that sort of pull before, but you've never felt one like this. You find memories and hints and pieces and you figure out that the evil being you have to stop, isn't evil, she's just hurting. She's hurt and She's a God. She's your God, and she's so happy to see you, and she has so many ideas, and so many hopes.

You're 17. You've spent your rest time (summer vacation) tearing across the world chasing down and defeating another evil thing that you and your friends accidentally released in the first place. Your God is with you, you have no time for Her. No time for anything but trying to survive and stay sane. You know She's disappointed in you, but you're one person -ONE PERSON- and you're 17. You missed your birthday. again. You've saved the world; again. You're so fucking tired -like always. You're Chosen, and alone, and have no idea what to do with your life, let alone your God. You aren't very good at school, but you go to every class. You're drowning as you try to rewrite your understanding of the world from what you grew up with, having no idea how to do anything without a book and godly hand to guide you. You only ever followed before, your new God is demanding you Lead. You don't know how. You're only 17. You see your horrible, abusive parents spitting abuse and racist rhetoric at your baby brother, who you haven't seen in two years, on the front steps to your school and for the first time ever you are filled with righteous fury. Your God answers your call, not knowing what you need but so eager to help, eager for your attention, she starts talking to you but you're busy -why can't she understand that you're fucking busy? trying to not die, trying to be safe, trying to keep your friends alive, trying to navigate a world that hates you, you're 17 and you're busy goddammit just wait!- and she snaps back at you and flees. The next time you see Her, maybe an hour later, She's got a creature with Her that nearly destroyed you and your friends last year sitting in her lap, so smug to see you again.

You're 17- no, 16- no, 15 years old and you're expected to build and carry the world on your shoulders, Chosen from birth, raised a lamb to follow a Shepard, not to be followed behind. You have no one and nothing and everyone expects everything and you can't back up, you can't pause because if you do someone dies and doesn't come back. You have to be a hero, a chosen, a saint. The steps behind you crumble to dust with each step you take forward and the new one is already cracking under your weight. There are only wrong choices. There's no hand reaching for you. God, you were taught, will save and guide you. God knows best. Why is your God looking to you, a mortal human, to be saved, raised and guided? You're a child.

You're just a child.

You just want to go home, wherever that is. You thought it was your God, but She's not exactly helping you out either, is She? She's just disappointed. Like everyone else. Like you.

You're 17. You think it would have been better to never do any of this. It would have been easier to stay, blind and naive. Sometimes you think you should have stayed in heaven. Sometimes you think about the God you killed by not being good enough for it. Sometimes you lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling and pretend you don't exist for awhile. Sometimes you work your body so hard you forget it's there and your mind shuts up and you exist without being you. Sometimes you wish you never asked any questions or read any books. You're 17, but sometimes you wish you were 15, with no idea yet.

You're 17. You wish you were good enough.

[ckret2]

Here’s an odd question that I don’t know if you’ve answered yet, but what’s bill’s mental age? Like I know he’s older than our universe, but with the subject of mental maturity and all that I personally think he’d be between the mental age of 14 - 17 18, young enough to still be classified as a child, but not old enough to be seen as an adult. Or maybe like 23

If a 90-year-old who's lived a full normal life and had a career and everything still screams at servers when they get his order wrong, because he's figured out that everyone bows down to him and does whatever he wants when he screams, is he "mentally" a child? Or is he just an asshole? I think he's just an asshole.

Bill's not Peter Pan. Immortality didn't magically freeze his mental development. "Bill acts immature" doesn't mean "he literally has the mind of a child," it means "he's repeatedly chosen not to do the hard mental & emotional work to become a better person even though he could have." In many ways he's emotionally stagnant, but not "emotionally stagnant" in a magical way; "emotionally stagnant" like a full-ass adult who still thinks getting what he wants is more important than treating other people with dignity and respect because he's never faced consequences. In other ways, he thinks, acts, and feels like he's extremely old. Even if he'd become immortal as a 5-year-old, there's no way in hell you could call him a mental 5-year-old now.

But he didn't become immortal as a 5-year-old. As I write him, Bill physically lost his body and became immortal around age 20. No matter if you're trying to judge him by his present-day age or by the age he lost his body, he's an adult.

Beyond "that's an adult," I'm not gonna try to compare his mental age to any human developmental milestones. Being a trillion just makes it nonsensical. He's got traits from every age.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

If the age restriction was done away with, do you think Harry's name would have been picked for the tournament at 14?

Maybe.

Like, how the goblet chooses a champion has nothing to do with age. The age restrictions were added by Dumbledore with his age line. The goblet only cares to pick out the "most worthy" champion:

An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money.

(GoF, ch12)

is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion

(GoF, ch12)

Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools.

(GoF, ch16)

"Most worthy to represent the school", now worth could be measured in a bunch of ways, but let's take this quote at face value and assume it means everything. That a champion would be a decent person who is very magically talented. As in, judging on character, intelligence, and magical skill/talent.

At 17, Harry would be picked no questions asked. He's magically capable, he's clever, he's a great guy — he is the perfect champion.

The question is if a 14-year-old Harry would be considered by the goblet more magically skilled and worthy of competing than Cedric. To that, I think the answer is yes too, actually.

Maybe it's because I love Harry a ton and am, therefore, biased, but he can resist the imperius at 14 and cast a patronus at 13. He can cast intuitive magic to rival adults at 14. His accio charm in the first task was incredibly magically impressive. Even if Barty/Moody wasn't helping him, I guarantee Harry could've gotten past the obstacles in the 3rd task as easily as any of the other champions.

Additionally, I think Harry is a nobler person than Cedric. I will remind you Harry chose to tell Cedric about the dragons on his own accord because he wanted things to be fair:

Cedric still didn’t know about the dragons . . . the only champion who didn’t, if Harry was right in thinking that Maxime and Karkaroff would have told Fleur and Krum. . . . [...] “Cedric,” said Harry, “the first task is dragons.” “What?” said Cedric, looking up. “Dragons,” said Harry, speaking quickly, in case Professor Flitwick came out to see where Cedric had got to. “They’ve got four, one for each of us, and we’ve got to get past them.”

(GoF, ch20)

While Cedric Diggory, the poster child for just and fair Hufflepuff house, gives Harry way less helpful information and he does it as a transaction — as returning the favor and not because he thinks it would make things fair:

“Listen . . .” Cedric lowered his voice as Ron disappeared. “I owe you one for telling me about the dragons. You know that golden egg? Does yours wail when you open it?” “Yeah,” said Harry. “Well . . . take a bath, okay?” [...] “Tell you what,” Cedric said, “use the prefects’ bathroom. Fourth door to the left of that statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor. Password’s ‘pine fresh.’ Gotta go . . .

(GoF, ch23)

Also, there's a reason Harry stays behind in the second task to make sure all the hostages are saved, he's the noblest competitor there. (Maybe because he doesn't care about winning as much as the others, but still).

So, yes, I think, if the age line wasn't there and Harry's name was placed in the goblet, I think he very well could've been chosen by the goblet as a champion. I think he's more than worthy.

[ariestarfairy]

Did Mystra Groom Gale?

My answer to that is, it's complicated, or perhaps not in the conventional way that people tend to think grooming happens. When I see posts about Gale being groomed it's accompanied by the assertion that Mystra found Gale when he was a child and was his mentor first. From a timeline perspective this doesn't make sense, we would have to throw out so much lore. Mystra was murdered by Cyric in 1385 initiating the Spellplague, she didn't come back until the events of the Sundering, so around 1479. Baldur's Gate 3 takes place in 1492. The earliest she could have met Gale would have been 1479/1480 which gives us a time frame of their relationship possibly being around 11-12 years. If we conclude that Gale is ~30 years old then the youngest Gale could have been is 17. If we conclude that Gale is ~35 years old then the youngest Gale could have been is 22. This lines up with Gale referring to himself as a very young man, not a child, when the events of their relationship took place. Also Gale makes another comment that suggests that he likely wasn't a child during his relationship with Mystra. If you romance Gale, he remarks that he had lovers before Mystra, but not after. If we assume that Gale met Mystra as a child then Gale would have to be much younger than we think he is. Now onto the subject of Mystra and Gale's relationship, adult grooming is a thing and the power imbalance is very real. A teacher getting into a relationship with a student is also problematic in any relationship where there is a teacher and student dynamic. Mystra has a history of changing and removing abilities from her servants and chosen, often times without their consent. This clearly illustrates an exploitative relationship. Also Gale, in all of his naivety of youth, perceived his relationship with Mystra way differently than Mystra did. Mystra has many chosen and most of them do not know one another. He thought she loved him, but he was amusement for her for a time until he messed up and she denounced him. Not only that but in order to maybe, possibly, earn her "forgiveness" Gale has to kill himself and even then forgiveness isn't assured. That's a steep price to pay. If you think Mystra is a good soul and Gale is a horrible person who stomped all over her boundaries, then you you need to learn more about Mystra's gross meddling with mortals. She is by no means innocent and has not only stomped on boundaries, she has done things that cross way over into non-consensual. The Gods are gross, Mystra is not an exception because she's a Goddess and presents as a woman, she's not vulnerable nor is she helpless. She is in the position to exploit and demand and she does it frequently. What also really gets me is how Gale gets labeled as being manipulative and abusive and Astarion is a beacon of perfection. He's not, he targets your character just to manipulate them, and that is his MO for a huge chunk of the game. His tragedy and changing over the course of the game doesn't reverse that, but it's somehow overlooked? Of course you have to view a person in terms of a snapshot. Looking at Gale based on a snapshot within his relationship with Mystra does not make him toxic and it does not mean that he was the abuser. Of course because Astarion was abused by a man, it's a different story, but Gale is a male character stepping on a woman's (Goddess) boundary, so he's necessarily toxic. It doesn't occur to people who play BG3, who have very little knowledge when it comes to the Gods in Faerun that Mystra is truly toxic and that a man can be abused and manipulated by a woman (Goddess) . Don't misunderstand, I love Astarion just as much as I love Gale, but I think it's a double standard to vilify Gale (who WAS mistreated by Mystra) and lionize Astarion while ignoring his machinations towards you in the beginning. Astarion is a classic case of hurt people hurt people, it explains his behavior but it shouldn't be ignored in criticisms of other characters. He's not perfect, if he were he would be boring and not nearly as interesting.

[weirdowithaquill]

Traintober 2024: Day 17 - Seagull

Edward, 1931

It was a cool evening at Vicarstown Sheds. For once, all the engines were there, a truly rare occurrence ever since Thomas had gotten his branchline and the new Big Sheds had been built at the other end of the line. However, an incident earlier in the morning had left those sheds blocked off, and all six of the Fat Controller’s engines were sleeping out in the old sheds for the night. Percy had even brought up a bunch of old trucks that needed repairing so he could join the others! Though Edward wondered if that was less because the trucks needed bringing up and more because Percy hated being away from everyone, even if he fought with the big engines like a cat does with dogs.

Somehow, the conversation turned towards the engines and their families. James was not fond of talking about his – old scars ran deep – while neither Percy nor Henry had any family to speak of, not in the way that Edward, Thomas or Gordon did.

“I only met my first three siblings,” Gordon said. “They were Great Northern, Sir Frederick Banbury and Flying Scotsman. Fine engines, important and powerful - quite like me.” “Have they ever stuck on turntables?” asked Percy cheekily. Gordon huffed crossly, but didn’t rise to the bait. It was a rare night of peace in the sheds, and none of the engines really wanted to disturb it.

“What about you, Edward?” asked Thomas. “You spent the most time with your siblings out of all of us, didn’t you?” Edward chuckled softly. “I did,” he agreed. “I was part of a group of express engines known as ‘Seagulls’. My specific class was the ‘Larger Seagulls’, and we were very proud engines – we could get into such arguments that you wouldn’t believe! But we were close. I remember when they tried putting superheaters in some of us – we looked so ungainly it was crazy. The Fat Director had a different superheater put in me when I came to Sodor though.”

“Do you have any other stories for us?” quizzed Henry, genuinely curious. The big engine had never had a family outside of the engines on Sodor, and had always been curious about how classmates interacted.

“Oh yes!” grinned Edward. “One time, Princess Louise was coming to visit us, and my brother Number 36 was chosen to take the special train. He was very pleased about it and boasted endlessly until we were sick in the smokebox of him! But then the Princess became ill, and she wasn’t able to make it. Poor 36 looked about a minute away from tears, and we all decided to try and cheer him up, so we convinced the cleaners to dress him up for the big event anyway. They really went for it too! They covered him in flowers and flags and various coat of arms’ until he was barely able to see! The cleaners even took off his front brakepipe to not ‘interrupt’ the decorations. 36 felt better after that. The Princess did come a few years later, but 33 got to pull the train instead of 36 – and boy did neither of them shut up about it! The pair were practically at each other’s funnels for weeks leading up to it, and then it was over and they were right as rain again. I suppose that’s the best story I have – we were a bit boring as a class.”

“Boring?” snorted Gordon. “You have a sibling who pulled a Princess!” The big engine looked very peeved at the idea of an engine like Edward being the one to pull such an important person, but still could only smile when Edward rolled his eyes fondly.

“Yes, Gordon, boring. Or need I mention the fact one of your brothers was in a movie, at the Wembley Exhibition and has recently begun pulling trains all the way up the East Coast?” Gordon snorted in amusement, his eyes softening as he remembered his eager younger brother.

“Scottie always was keen to make an impression,” he hummed gently. “I always wonder what he’ll do next.” Edward could only agree, telling several more mundane little stories about his siblings and their various incidents. But eventually, he slowed, and gazed out towards the station.

“Ah well, I’d best get some sleep,” yawned Edward. “I’ve got a freight train over the bridge tomorrow!” Gordon paused at that, his eyes going wide. None of the other engines seemed to pick up on the subtle shift in their express engine, instead focused on Edward.

“Would you like me to take it?” Gordon asked slowly. The entire shed went quiet, all the engines gazing over at their express engine in shock. Gordon never offered to help with any trains, and especially not goods trains. Edward just smiled softly.

“That’s very kind of you, Gordon, but I can manage. I know you don’t want to be seen with little old me, but it’s been years since I last saw my siblings… and I’d like to. Maybe ol’ Nobby will still be round too!”

Gordon, Henry and James shared a worried look as Edward yawned again and closed his eyes. None of them knew what to say, and spent the rest of the night trading glances and trying to think of a way to dissuade Edward from going over the Vicarstown bridge.

But there was nothing they could do. The next morning, Gordon took his morning express, James set off with a local passenger train and Henry puffed away to pull a heavy goods train that had him huffing and wheezing. Thomas and Percy followed shortly after; Thomas with his faithful coaches and Percy with a line of trucks needing to be taken down the line.

Edward set about preparing his goods train with a little extra puff in his cylinders. He hummed to himself as he pushed the trucks into a line, whistling cheerfully to his friend Trevor the Traction Engine as he trundled by.

Edward set out not too late in the morning, but late enough that the express would be catching him while he was at Barrow.

Edward puffed along without a care in the world. The sun was shining, the grass was a gorgeous shade of green that put Henry to shame, and the sky was an endless blue. There was nary a cloud in sight as Edward rolled along, passing by fields as he headed for the bridge.

The rails were so smooth too, a sign Edward always took to mean he was nearing the Barrow steelworks and riding on its rails. They were always the smoothest rails in the area, and possibly the nicest Edward had ever run on.

That was when Edward rounded the bend and puffed into the yards. Nothing seemed out of place at first, as Edward puffed along, shunting his train away into its proper siding. Only… where were the Seagulls? The class always seemed to be milling around, no matter what. And yet… it was stonily silent. Edward puffed deeper into the yards, following its curves with practiced ease as he headed for where he knew the coal and water to be. If his siblings were anywhere, it would be there… right?

They were not there. Only a few ex-Midland engines milled about, all looking oddly smug. “I didn’t know one of you was in steam,” snorted one, shooting Edward an odd look. Edward scowled.

“Why wouldn’t I be? My controller needs me. Now, where can I find the other Seagulls?” Two of the Midlanders exchanged a look and directed Edward towards a part of the yard he’d never gone before. It was deep behind the sheds, along a short line that took Edward deep into the industrial heartland of Barrow.

And that’s where he found them. Or more accurately, what was left of them. Every single one of his siblings had been scrapped, melted down and ripped apart and twisted and mangled beyond recognition. All of them were there, from peppy young 125 who’d always been so excited to see the day right the way through to 36 himself, his once gleaming paintwork and pride reduced to nothing.

They were all gone.

They were all gone.

Edward was the last of his kind, the last of his class. The rest of them were here, torn apart and awaiting trucks to be loaded into and hauled away forever.

Edward returned to the yards looking very pale, and found Gordon had shooed off the Midlanders. “I’m… sorry, Edward,” Gordon eventually managed. Edward could only reply with a small sob.

“They’re all gone. I’ve lost them all. I didn’t do anything… I want to go home.” Gordon gently buffered up to his friend, and guided him back towards the station. It would look odd – him and the old engine double-heading the express – but Edward needed it.

“It’s ok Edward,” murmured Gordon. “You’ve got us, don’t you?”

It was the last truly kind thing the big blue engine would say to Edward in nearly two decades.  

Back to the Master Post

[aviscarrentals]

Yelp (Prologue) ls2

masterlist next chapter

words: 796

warnings: cursing, implied violence and character death, it's literally the opening scene of scream so use your imagination

notes: i promise these specific characters have been chosen for plot-related reasons. i love kimi, it made me sad to hurt him, but it's worth it for the story i promise 😪 hope you enjoy this teaser! i'll get to working on the main plot real soon i promise 🤞also if you see any mistakes please let me know. english is my first language, i'm just fucking stupid

“Mum, I don’t need a babysitter. I’m literally 18 in August.” … “No, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to yell at you, but I’m not a kid. He doesn’t even do anything; he just sits on the couch, watches TV, and eats all of the good crisps.” … “Yeah, I know I said I don’t need him, but what’s the point of even having him here if he doesn't do anything?!”

“Kimi, pipe down a bit, will ya?”

“See? Did you hear that?” … “I’m not even being that loud!” … “Okay, yeah, that was loud, but it was because I’m pissed off, Mum.” … “That’s not even a curse word!”

“Mate!”

“Sorry, Ralf.” … “What? Are you kidding me? No, I’m not gonna call him ‘Mr. Aron.’” … “Yeah, whatever.” … “Sorry. Yeah, have fun, love you. Bye.”

Kimi hung up the phone and sighed dramatically. “I’m 17 years old,” he whispered to himself in the way one does when they’re angry, but don’t want anyone else to hear, while he fake kicked the wall.

After several minutes of pantomiming a temper tantrum, Kimi sat down at his desk. He could hear the disgusting crunches of crisps being belligerently chomped on by an open mouth from downstairs harmonizing with the bickering voices of Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago on the television.

“Fuck this,” he muttered under his breath and unlocked his phone. Just as his finger was about to press the call button on his friend Ollie’s contact page, the screen went black, except for two green and red buttons and white, medium-sized lettering displaying who was on the other end of the line: “Unknown Caller”.

Spam, he immediately concluded and clicked the red button without hesitation. But, again, before he could select the FaceTime option, the Unknown Caller screen returned. Annoyed, he quickly answered and brought it up to his ear.

“Hello?” he asked tiredly. Maybe it was some distant relative who thought it was his birthday or something?

“Hello,” the voice on the other end echoed.

“Hello? Who is this?” he demanded, already out of patience. The last thing he needed on this already tragically boring evening was to get stuck on the phone for an hour with someone who claimed to have changed his diapers when he was a baby.

“Oh, you know who it is. We’re good friends,” the voice replied, this time with an eerie tone that made his skin crawl.

Before Kimi could answer, the sound of a bowl clattering to the hardwood ground made him turn his head to the open door. “Fucking dumbass,” he grumbled under his breath.

“Excuse me?” the voice seethed.

“What? Oh, not you,” Kimi rushed to explain, “my stupid babysitter.”

“Babysitter?” it asked him, chuckling.

“Fuck,” he moaned, leaning back in his chair. “Shut up. I meant-”

“No, I know what you meant,” the other line interrupted. “I know all about you…”

This made Kimi sit back up in his chair. “Huh?”

“You heard me,” It simply stated.

“Alright, is this a joke? You guys know I don’t like shit like this; it’s not fun-”

“This isn’t a prank!” the voice hollered.

Kimi fell out of his seat at the sudden noise, hitting his shoulder on the edge of his desk.

“Pardon my tone,” it apologized. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just don’t like when I’m not taken seriously.” Kimi could hear the bitterness seeping in toward the end of the sentence.

“You didn’t startle me,” he lied, getting up from the floor.

“Oh, don’t you try and deceive me,” the voice reprimanded with a snicker. “I see everything.”

Kimi’s heart fell to his now standing feet. “...what did you just say?”

“I said, ‘I know everything.’”

“No, you didn’t. You said…” At this realization, Kimi dropped his phone, not even bothering to end the call, and rushed out of his bedroom. Prank or not, he was freaked the fuck out and wanted to leave. Right. Fucking. Now.

As he made his way down the stairs, he abruptly came to a halt before he reached the bottom. On the floor in front of the couch lay a mess of crushed crisps and a haphazardly tossed wooden bowl from his cupboard. No Ralf. With shaking limbs, he descended the final steps to inspect the scene further.

“Mike! Mike! Mike!”

Kimi turned around so quickly he almost lost his balance. His heart settled when he realized it was just the stupid movie playing on the television. He promptly grabbed the remote and turned it off.

But when he looked at the reflection of the black tinted glass, he could see something behind him. Something out of the ordinary. He squinted to try and make out what it was.

“Aw, you don’t like scary movies?”

taglist (if you would like to be added or removed just lmk!): @gaypoetsblog @koris-009 @feralnando @disneyprincemuke @osbuzz @avaayalaa @faithshouseofchaos @thearchieves @scuderia-piastri @lovelytsunoda @localwhoore @foreveralbon @vroomvroomcircuit

[pandorasword]

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

CHAERI'S MASTERLIST

J-Hope's Enlistment

❒ genre: Slice of life

❒ words: 1.3k

❒ summary: In which Hobi spends the night before enlisting with Chaeri and Namjoon

❒ prompts requested from the dialogue prompts game: “I just wanted to say thank you for protecting me”

April 17, 2023

The building could hardly be considered a bar, more like a small shack with barely enough room to fit the counter and a few stools. Two tables, each only able to seat two people, took up the rest of the space. Despite its cramped size, they had intentionally chosen this place for the night, needing the privacy it offered.

The walls were made of worn wood and damp stains were scattered throughout, now covered by old movie posters dating back to before any of the three at the bar were even born. The illustrations, faded and worn, were movie posters, many from the mid-80s, and all shared a common theme: nostalgia. Which happened to be a shared feeling among them.

"Guys, I... I can't drink," Hobi hesitated, his fingers uncertainly hovering over the small glass - courteously offered by Namjoon - in front of him. "Tomorrow is an important day, everything will be filmed and I want to be at my—" but before he could finish his sentence, the amber alcoholic concoction disappeared from the trajectory of his fingers that were still uncertain what to do: to drink or not to drink?

Without hesitation, Chaeri next to him snatched it away and downed its contents in one gulp.

"Chaeri" Namjoon's tone held both reprimand and resignation as he watched her eagerly drink both her Andong Soju and Hobi's. 

“I need to be drunk to make it through tonight” she muttered “And you should drink too, you look awful.”

Hobi could not help but chuckle at the situation.

Their leader's normally composed expression was replaced with one of shock, his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape as if it was the first time the youngest member of their group had spoken to him without the expected respect for someone older.

Namjoon opened his mouth to respond, but then quickly closed it, instead resting his forehead on his open palm and leaning heavily against the counter. "Three more" he finally managed to request from the bartender, who simply nodded and filled three glasses with the same amber liquid as before. 

LATER

He had seen this coming. 

The moment they had suggested spending one last evening together, before it became impossible for who knew how long, he knew it would end like this: in the back of a luxurious car, with him sandwiched between two drunken friends, his shoulders serving as pillows. 

They had laughed and reminisced about the good old days, the first sips of alcohol, the first arguments, and then they had cried. 

Chaeri had ranted about the injustice of their society, how they were forced to endure over a year of grueling training because of an absurd law. 

Hobi didn't want to leave; deep down, she was right. 

But he had no choice. He would have given anything for a thousand more sleepless nights spent with his friends, now his chosen family, rather than fulfilling his duty as a South Korean citizen.

Namjoon was the first to get out of the car once they arrived in front of his residential building, which was the first stop. His legs wobbly from the drive and a few too many drinks.

With an affectionate gesture, he gave Hobi a reassuring pat on the shoulder, promising they’d catch up in the morning, and despite his slightly inebriated state, he also playfully ruffled Chaeri's hair, who was still wearily leaning on Hoseok. Staggering slightly as he stepped out onto the pavement, Namjoon closed the car door with a dull thud.

The car remained stationary for a moment, its engine idling softly, while everyone inside watched Namjoon walk toward the large entrance door of the building. Only when their leader had completely disappeared inside did the driver engage the gears, and the vehicle slowly pulled away.

Several minutes of silence passed in the dim cockpit, lit only by the flickering streetlights that passed the car. "I don't want you to go" Chaeri murmured, her voice barely above a whisper but clear. There was no tremor or drawl in her words, despite all the alcohol she had consumed, only a deep sadness could be sensed.

"First Jin, and now you... who knows who will leave next, and slowly I will find myself alone. I will have no one left. I don't want you to go." Her eyes, sparkling with barely held back tears, met the boy's look, begging, as if she might expect a different answer than the one she already had, as if he might assure her that he was going to stay.

And he wished, with all his heart, that he could.

He wrapped his arm around her, the one Chaeri had been leaning on since they got in the car, pulling her close to his chest in a protective embrace. It was a familiar gesture, repeated countless times during their late-night drives after events that left them both exhausted, when the only sound was the soft hum of the engine.

Chaeri, with her reassuring presence and the fruity scent that seemed uniquely hers, had grown far beyond the girl he remembered. Now, sitting next to him, he could see a fully realized woman, a transformation he had witnessed with pride over the years.

The realization that he had to leave her tightened his heart, a subtle and persistent pain, sharper than the thought of parting from the others. She was his masterpiece, the living testament to the time and love he had invested in her.

She had been his little Chaeri, and he had always been her 'big brother'.

"I don't want to go either" After a pause, he finally spoke up. His breath felt heavy and his throat seemed to have a lump in it, making his voice sound like a faint whisper. He reached out to gently stroke her long hair, trying to offer comfort not just to her, but also to himself.  "But time will pass quickly, and I'll be back before you know it. I'll call you every night, take days off so we can spend them together, and send you all the silly photos I take in that ridiculous uniform. I promise."

Chaeri leaned back from his embrace, her tear-stained cheeks glowing red from the Soju she had been drinking "You better keep that promise" she said, biting her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. "Or I'll personally come looking for you."

Hobi couldn't help but burst into laughter, feeling the tension in his chest melt away, as his own eyes grew watery. "You're not very threatening when you cry" he teased, playfully poking her cheeks with two fingers. 

"And you won't be threatening in a military uniform."

"Oh, I'm well aware of that" Hobi joked back.

"Besides, green is definitely not your color."

"I disagree! I look great in green!"

Chaeri smiled, looking at him tenderly. Playful bickering like that would have been one of the things she would have suffered most away from him. With the palm of her hand she wiped her cheeks "I'm going to miss you"

"I'll miss you too, kid" 

"I know I won't be able to say much in front of the cameras tomorrow, so... I just wanted to say thank you for protecting me. For all these years, thank you. Maybe I've never said it before.. but I mean it"

The man felt his heart swell with love once again as his gaze rested on Chaeri, who looked back at him with her big eyes full of affection. They were a mixture of sweetness and melancholy.

He had to squint slightly to contain more tears. It was incredible how he had become attached to her and the other members of the group over the years, how protecting them and caring for them had become his deepest instinct.It had become instinctive for him, a natural extension of his love for them. He never expected anything in return because every smile from them, every moment of happiness or success, had been his greatest reward

"You never had to say it, Chaeri”

taglist: @alixnsuperstxr | @bts-dream | @enchantingbrowneyedgirl | @ycuvi | @cosmicwintr

[getvalentined]

I am so sick of people asserting that Cloud's father is some super special important person like it's some explanation for the fact that he was able to save the world. Superior bloodline stuff never sits well with me in the first place, but in this case it's just so antithetical to the actual thesis of FF7 and does such a huge disservice to multiple characters that it makes me white hot angry.

The most popular contender is President Shinra, because Cloud being a Shinra bastard would (somehow) explain why he's allowed into the company at such a young age (even though enlistment age appears to be 14 and Cloud left Nibelheim to enlist at 14) and how he wound up on so many important missions—because it can't possibly be that he's actually competent, he's so pretty, how could he possibly be competent? It's not as if we see him being staggeringly competent from jump in every title where he's featured, including those that start prior to him being forcibly mako enhanced by Hojo. Clearly this is nepotism.

After all, we know that President Shinra is always so supportive of his bastards! That's why Lazard hid his identity and worked his way up the ranks to become director of SOLDIER at the youngest possible age and then set about trying to orchestrate a hostile takeover of the company by allowing all three of his best operatives to defect in the middle of a war, a process that was only thrown off because one of them passed off every single mission where he would have had an opportunity to go AWOL.

This was clearly the result of nepotism. There's just so much nepotism going on there. Obviously.

The newest contender is Glenn Lodbrok, the lead character from the First SOLDIER section of Ever Crisis, because he's blond-haired and blue-eyed and presumably one of the first people in Project 0 to survive some level of the mako enhancement process. I guess this is supposed to mean that him being Cloud's father would be a perfect explanation for Cloud actually being capable of literally anything, since the only way for him to become the hero that was chosen by the planet to keep it alive would be if it's part of some bloodline destiny.

There are a whole host of issues with Glenn as an option here, not the least of which is the canonical lore about Cloud's father, namely that he was some nobody traveler who kinda passed through and got Claudia pregnant and then left; he may have died up in the mountains, but apparently all that was ever found was his pack, so there's no way to be sure. Further, Claudia was very young at this point—according to her original concept art declaring her to be 33 at the time of her death, she gave birth to Cloud at 16-17 years old.

Glenn is one of two possible age ranges: if he was active in the early stages of Project 0, being a character in the First SOLDIER battle royale game, then he was around 21 in 1985, meaning a 21 year old knocked up Claudia Strife when she was 15 and then walked out on her. If he's 21 during the events of Ever Crisis, which seems likely based on his character design, that would make him 14 at the oldest when Claudia got pregnant.

Okay, I know this kind of thing happens IRL, but I feel pretty confident in the statement that there is absolutely no way that that's the direction SE is taking this timeline and characterization. I'm not even sorry. That's not happening. Either he's giving "predator," or he's Deadbeat Dad: High School Freshman Edition.

But that's honestly not even the worst of it, the math not matching up is entirely irrelevant when the implications of this assertion are applied to the actual thesis of this series as a whole, to the characters we already know, to the actual lore. Claiming that Cloud is only special because of the sperm donation of a man who abandoned him literally removes any concept of his competence as a character, declaring that he's just the newest iteration in a line of "worthy" men. He can't be worth anything unless his father is worth something. He can't be good at anything unless his father is good at something.

Beyond that, it casts Claudia aside entirely, asserting that the fact that she raised Cloud doesn't matter—she may have brought him up entirely on her own, but that doesn't actually matter. She didn't instill values and morals and guidelines into him that would allow him to grow up into a man who could save the world, she was just an incubator, a nursemaid, a nanny, a cook. She was just a servant who kept him alive long enough for his father's bloodline to awaken within him and make him into the hero he was always meant to be.

Insisting that Cloud's value as a character hinges in any way on his father, a person who had no place in his life whatsoever and whom he doesn't even remember, takes away his agency and declares Claudia to be irrelevant. It says that a sperm donation matters more than an upbringing. It says that the place he started is the only thing that defines where Cloud will end up.

This is literally, 100 percent, the opposite of the thesis of this series. The entire concept of these games, of these storylines, is that the way you were made doesn't have to dictate what you can be, who you are, where you're going. Your genetics do not define you, and assumptions to the contrary are literally what make people into monsters. What matters is the people you love, the people who love you, and the person you are now as a result of those people.

And the fact of the matter is that regardless of timelines, regardless of characterizations, regardless of theories, Cloud Shinra and Cloud Lodbrok didn't save the world.

Cloud Strife did.

Claudia Strife's son did.

And I think people could stand to give both of them a hell of a lot more credit.

[thesharktanksdriver]

Dicentra D. Boa

Content warning going in: implied rape, human trafficking, slavery, implied sexual assault, implied Sa of children, and massacres. It’s not talked in length or in detail but it is alluded to due to the Boa sisters backstory and Dicentra’s conception. I wanted to be sure to give a warning just in case because of the nature of these topics. If any of these themes are triggering please skip past the section labeled “Josephine” and go to “childhood” instead

Also sorry if she’s cringe or Mary sue but she’s my little blorbo and I love her. Writing her is also my excuse to write (and rewrite) about Boa Hancock because I think she’s underrated and I think her character could’ve been handled better by oda (this is in regards to her liking Luffy which is really weird since she’s a grown adult who fell in love with a 17 year old after being victimized through a decent portion of her life by adults)

General information

Name: Dicentra D. Boa.

Following after the flower naming convention of the Amazon lily, Dicentra is the scientific name of the bleeding heart flower. Her name was chosen by Hancock since dicentra’s birth mother didn’t know what to choose

The D. Is gained to her by her birth mother Josephine D. Etheus. Though Dicentra is apart of “the will of D” she has no idea about it due to the fact Boa swore to Josephine that no traces from her would connect back to Dicentra.

Age: 13

Dicentra was born a few hours before the mass breakout of Mary geoise when Hancock was 16.

Race: half-lunarian

Dicentra’s motherJosephine was a full lunarian captured in the massacre of her people. Despite Saturns extermination efforts a few celestial dragons wanted a lunarian as apart of their collection and were able to accomplish this secretly

Being only half lunarain attributes to her white hair and darker toned skin. But along with this it also acts as a reason as to why her wings are so small and why she doesn’t have an eternal spark.

She can’t create fire because of this, but she could control already lit flames if she needed to. But she has not found this out yet

(Fun fact is that whenever in a room with some type of fire, she subconsciously pulls that flame slightly towards herself. Kinda like how sunflowers face the sun, flames direct themselves towards her)

Personality: curious, sometimes oblivious, good hearted, optimistic, overly eager and a bit chaotic

As a young sheltered girl Dicentra is naturally curious of the world and just about anything she can get her hands on. She enjoys soaking in all of the knowledge of the great world beyond the Amazon lily, whilst also secretly yearning to see it for herself.

Another side effect of her sheltered upbringing is the fact she’s very oblivious to things. Whether that be wandering into a bad situation due to curiosity of something that caught her eye or just being unaware of concepts like men not being hideous monsters that’ll kill her (Hancock taught her this lol). Despite her being oblivious to these environmental concerns she’s actually very observant of others emotions when needed.

Unlike her mother’s cold and dominating facade Dicentra is very openly warm to those around her. She often times is found conversing with others around her, joyfully asking about things and recounting new stuff she discovered.

Along with this she can be very eager about whatever catches her eye. Leading her to blindly and stubbornly pursue it even at her own detriment (much to her mother’s and Nightshade concern). This has lead to her acting without foresight and acting on the first thing that entered her mind which can have varied results…like biting someone’s hand

Interests and hobbies: journaling, exploration, drawing, dance and song

Once more due to her interest in the world beyond the Amazon lily Dicentra has taken to journaling all she’s learned. When her mother brings her gifts from far off places she enjoys documenting everything she can about it. Of all subjects she loves writing about the most she enjoys exotic Fish, birds and gemstones the most.

Due to her journaling she ends up exploring places quite a bit. From the city of her home to the jungles and mountains she’ll explore. Some of it from blind interest and from plain eager stubbornness

Something gained from her journaling is her hobby of drawing. Though years of practice she’s gotten decent at drawing, though it’s less out of passion and moreso just for proper documentation.

Her real hobbies are that of song and dance. As a princess Dicentra had taken up many hobbies but the two that stuck with her are dancing and song. She enjoys dancing since it’s an active activity and picking up new instruments to learn and play.

She’s particularly fond of the Erhu (I’m taking in some Chinese inspiration due to the Chinese influence of the Amazon lily)

Habits and quirks: Manners, stiff posture, back issues, lack of shoes, playing with her hands, love of berries/fruits and tendency to put others before her

Dicentra as princess (though that title is moreso just a title since the Amazon lily leadership is based on strength rather than bloodline) she was educated to have proper manners. While she’s a tough and tumble kind of girl she still implores these manners in most social situations until she finds something interesting and throws manners to the wind.

Due to these manners she can sometimes also have a stiff posture in mix with her back pains. Hiding her wings is a hassle for her so binding them along with keeping a certain posture as to be sure their hidden is important. When around those she trusts she lets up a bit and is more relaxed but that’s if they know of her wings. If not she keeps up the posture to be sure they won’t be found

As stated above she gets quite a lot of back pain and jolts of discomfort due to her hiding her wings. It’s an unfortunate thing she has to deal with, something all the boa sisters feels guilty about but know it’s for Dicentra’s best interest in the end.

Despite being taught manners Dicentra can’t stand wearing closed toe shoes. She doesn’t mind sandals but she loves being barefoot much to her mother’s ire. Dicentra loves the feeling of grass and sand beneath her feet.

A nervous quirk she has is that she plays with her hands quite a bit.

Also is a giant sweet tooth for things but especially loves Berries, Fruits and her favourite food of peach buns with a custard filling. It’s definitely due to the D trait.

Another tendency she has is for her to value others above herself. As princess though it’s more of a title she believes that her mom and the Amazon lily comes first. She’ll put down or put away her own feelings and ambitions if it means she can’t help others. It’s the reason as to why she stayed in the Amazon instead of exploring like she wanted, why she asks questions about the outside world and sees glimpses of it through stories and objects instead of pursing it herself.

Relationships: Hancock, Marigold, Sandersonia, Nightshade, Rayleigh and Shakuyaku, Gloriosa, Salome and Ouroboros

Hancock: Dicentra has a very strong relationship with her mom and looks up to her as her hero (for various reasons). She loves her mom deeply for both her kindness and dedication to protecting the Amazon lily. She knows deep down her mom is a lot more tender than she lets on but puts up a front to protect everyone else (and herself). Even though dicentra wishes to explore the world she follows her mom’s rules of staying in the Amazon Lily knowing there has to be some reason as to why her mom is so insistent on it. Along with this she follows her mom’s rules of hiding her back and binding her wings even if it’s uncomfortable (something Boa wishes she didn’t have to make Dicentra do but does it out of necessity). Her favourite activity with her mom is having her mom brush her hair

Marigold: Dicentra loves her aunt Marigold but is sometimes a little bit intimidated by her. Granted she knows her aunt would never do anything bad but Marigold is sometimes too stoic for Dicentra to read which makes her nervous she’s doing something wrong. Unbeknownst to her Marigold very much loves her but gets worried of messing up and internally panics because she overestimated herself. Dicentra’s favourite memory with Marigold is when she taught her how to make flower crowns

Sandersonia: Dicentra loves hanging out with her Aunt Sandersonia. Unlike with Marigold Sandersonia is more in tune with her emotions so Dicentra is able to read her better and therefore know if she’s bothering her. If Sandersonia isn’t busy with something she’ll often tag along with Dicentra’s exploring of the Amazon lily and play games together. Dicentra’s favorite thing to do with Sandersonia is petting her aunts zoan tail

Nightshade (another oc): Nightshade is Dicentra’s sworn guard and protector assigned by Hancock herself. Dicentra sees Nighshade as her closest companion and as a big sister to her. Though Nightshade sometimes gets frustrated at Dicentra throwing caution to the wind and running off she knows that Nightshade doesn’t typically get legitimately mad unless something really bad happened. Nightshade beside the Boa sisters is the only one who knows of Dicentra’s wings and origins, something the bodyguard takes in the upmost seriousness. Dicentra knows Nightshade isn’t her original name but hasn’t pushed about the subject. Her favourite thing to do with Nightshade is playing hide and seek.

Rayleigh and Shakuyaku: dicentra knows very little about these two but does hold them in high regard hearing they helped her mom and aunts. The most funny thing about this though is that she has no idea Rayleigh is a male (boa taught her men were ugly evil creatures lol) . She’s never met them but she hopes to one day do so.

Gloriosa: dicentra sometimes sneaks out to see the former empress of the Amazon despite being a “traitor” to learn more about the outside world. Though she doesn’t like how her mom and Gloriosa don’t get along well Dicentra holds respect for Gloriosa.

Salome and Ouroboros: Dicentra adores Salome and all the snakes of the Amazon. Her fight or flight instinct of bite first ask questions later was somewhat developed due to watching Salome when she was younger. Dicentra has a snake of the same species as Salome named Ouroboros, aptly named for its penchant for…eating its tail all the time. No one has any idea why boros does this but Dicentra loves her beloved snake even if all it does is act as a necklace for her half the time. Half the time people don’t notice they’re alive if not for their occasional blinking. She loves petting the scales of Salome and Ouroboros, absolutely loves the texture

(Meme break before getting to serious stuff. Nightshade is also included here)

Backstory

Prologue: Josephine

Dicentra’s birth mother Josephine was a lunarian born on the red line and raised with her people. She lived atop the red line in peace for many years, she was particularly gifted in being a graceful flyer amongst others her age but lacked control of her flames. Despite the peace at a young age she could tell something was coming somehow, she had a sixth sense for that thing (observation Haki). Eventually when her people were massacred to build Mary Geoise atop her ancestral home she was taken by a celestial dragon who wanted one of her kind as “apart of his collection” even though that wasn’t technically allowed. This all happened when she was 15.

For Years Josephine was kept in a cell, wings broken and unable to conjure flames even if she tried due to being underfed and weak. She’d spent so long being toyed with and abused with no relief but an empty cell to return to when she was finished being “useful”. Eventually though she got cellmate in the form of the young Boa sisters. For the first time in years Josephine felt something as she stared at the young girls, mirror showing her how much of a shell of her former self she was. She used to be young and free, used to be afraid and now she had felt nothing in years. And staring into the fearful tear stained eyes of these girls she swore to herself they wouldn’t end up like her. Broken and empty.

In that cell in the span of months turned to years Josephine would do her best to protect the sisters. Though she could not always protect them she was able to lessen their suffering. She cared for them, began to see them as her own just as they began to see her as a mother in this hell. Through her wings were broken she’d use them as blankets for them in the damp cold of the cell. Josephine would share the little food she had with them. She’d also tell them stories of her people who once proudly flew the skies, sang in hushed tones the songs passed on from generation to generation. Hell had at least become bareable

Eventually much to her own fear and horror Josephine became pregnant. It at some point was bound to happen but all the same it horrified her for the fact she knew her child would be killed. A bastard to celestial dragon was purged for the fact of “tainting” their holy blood, and that was just for normal cases. She was a lunarian, the people they purged and were still actively being hunting down from how that devil gloated about “owning such a rare species”. She had to hid this and hope for the best, and that’s what she did with the help of the Boa sisters.

Somehow hiding her pregnancy was a task in of itself but it had been somehow done, but with that came the actual delivery. Weak and Malnourished as she already was without proper medical care in a dark cell wasn’t a good mix. She’s left at deaths doorstep clinging barely to life after the deed was said and done. The only upside to it all was she felt that sixth sense again, things were changing and her daughters would be free. Before letting herself rest she makes the girls promise to never tell her daughter of her heritage, to protect her and love her as she loved them. Tearfully the girls agree, Hancock vowing she’d raise Dicentra as her own. With how Josephine falls asleep the girls believe her to be dead, and in a way she is…but not fully yet

The mass escape of slaves happens and her daughters flee, through this all Josephine laid on deaths door in her cell. She was ok with dying, had for so long dreamt of such a thing, but anger had let her from not dying quite yet. Half dead and powered only by the knowledge she’d die Josephine gets up. Broken wings crack and move, the pain so blinding it became numb. She had to protect her daughters, had to erase all trace of them here lest a trail is somehow left. And despite never knowing to master her flames she ignites because she herself is the kindling. The already aflame Mary geoise is lit with newer more intense fire that burned to the fire. Josephine burns with mother’s rage and a single wish. Cleanse her homeland with flame just as it was meant to be oh so long ago.

Josephine kills her tormentor and bastard of a man who’s father to her daughter, watches the flames bath him in agony as she holds his face in burning hands. Scarlet eyes glaring down at him as everything burned, her once small flickering flame behind her neck so intense and big it hurt to look at and consumed the background. Flesh melts and blood sizzles in her palms. Josephine dies kneeling on the red earth of her home, staring up to the smouldering sky with broken wings and an outstretched hand to the heavens she so loved. Her scream echoes out among flickering flames and chaos, echoes and reverberates into the sky before turning to nothingness. She burns so intensely that nothing of herself and twenty feet surrounding her body is left besides ash, soot and a trail of bloody feathers littering the ground just outside the crater as her scream of agony faded.

Chapter 1: Childhood from the eyes of a mother

Dicentra grows up on a lie just as everyone else of the Amazon lily does. From the time she could walk and speak she’s told of how her mother and aunts slayed a fierce-some gorgon that had killed her birth mother which led to her being adopted. That gorgon cursed her mom, aunts and herself with a curse bared on their backs. For her mom and her aunts it’s an odd symbol and for Dicentra it’s her wings. But all the same Dicentra knows that her mom is her hero (and though that story is a lie it’s still true she’s her hero) and the young princess stared at her mother in awe and such innocence. It’s something that eats Hancock up inside, that she’s lying to her daughter about everything. Of her wings, her lineage and birth mother and yet she made that vow and she won’t go back in it.

All this leads to though is Hancock being fiercely protective of her daughter, not just for the fact of her blood but because she wants better for Dicentra. She wants her daughter to live happy not plagued by the burden and shame that she and her sisters suffers daily. The memories, the pain, the loss of it all. She wants Dicentra to live the life Hancock wished she had, of never being ripped away from a safe and loving home to be hurt over and over again. It’s why she keeps a close eye on her, especially in the early years where everything is still fresh in her mind of the escape. Perhaps she’s a tad overbearing at times but knowing her daughter is happy and safe within the walls of her nation is all that matters. But as time progresses she does become more lenient towards letting Dicentra do things on her own with the only condition being a bodyguard accompanying her.

At 6 Dicentra has Nightshade assigned as her personal bodyguard and protector. Before then it was randomly assigned guards or Salome who took over watching over the already curious and slightly mischievous young girl. Much to Hancock’s displeasure her daughter takes to running off into the jungles of the Amazon but at the same time she can’t help but be happy her daughter takes her freedom in such strive and not forgranted. Dicentra talks of all range of things she came across once she comes home, from rocks she found to bird feathers pressed in pages. Nightshade with now wild tangled hair standing beside Dicentra posed and proper even with a few leaves and sticks lodged in once straight black hair.

By 7 Hancock decides to have Dicentra be taught proper manners and help her find some hobbies that aren’t just running off into the brush. It’s there that Dicentra finds her talent in Dance and playing instruments, she specifically likes playing the Erhu traditionally played in the Amazon lily. It’s a hobby especially Hancock enjoys because it quickly becomes a source of calm when old memories plague her mind. Perhaps a lifetime ago she would’ve picked up the instrument as well, but now she resides herself to listening to old tunes that would play before that fateful day on a ship leaving home. Whilst she listens she holds her daughter, time seems to slip away and for once all is well for those minutes playing song.

At 9 Dicentra begins to do more things around the Amazon lily. Knowing the jungles area and documenting the plants she finds ends up being useful to apothecaries and doctors on the island. Along with this she starts to also help in delivering things and having a hand in public events. It’s here that she begins to realize what being a princess means even if it’s more a title than anything. To the Amazon lily her mom is cold and respected, the citizens of the island fear and love her and Hancock knows this. They don’t see her compassion behind closed doors but Dicentra does. If her mom is the cold and cool leader that in secret cared, then Dicentra would be a sliver in that door for others to see that kindness. She tells the truth, that her mom asked her to try and find ways to help the other kuja women. As princess the women of the island love her and she notices she means something to everyone there. For the women of the island Dicentra is their kind princess in contrast to their lovely but cruel empress, to Hancock Dicentra is what little hope is left in the world.

At 10 the young princess starts asking Hancock more about the outside world and it leaves the empress silently terrified. They aren’t bad questions, moreso just innocent ones of if places she’d been to were like home. But to Hancock they signify the end. She knew from the moment her bright eyed daughter began to run before learning to walk, began looking out to the sea on the horizon and climbed to the tops of the snake statues overlooking the entire tribe she’d one day be curious enough to leave. That this island would become too small to satisfy her need to see and experience the world. A selfish part of her wished that the luxuries she spoiled her with and the nights in which she’d hug her close whilst promising she’d always be safe here would disway her, but Hancock always knew because of the spark in her eyes that she’d one day leave. It terrifies her and yet she knows one day she’ll have to because she can’t take away Dicentra’s freedom just as hers had been taken. But for now she was safe, leaving was in the future but now she was safe in her arms.

By 11 Dicentra waits by the docks as Hancock sets off to yet another warlord meeting that would go nowhere. Hancock when her daughter was younger would leave her with Sandersonia as she and Marigold would set off into the ocean. But Hancock decides that this time her daughter was old enough to last a few days on her own (despite how terror still grips her heart). Nightshade swears she’ll look after the young girl and none of the Boa’s doubt that. Not when the ex-assassin turned bodyguard has the same look Hancock does when the young girl does something as simple as gifting a flower. It’s a look of wanting to protect something so desperately because it was one of the last pieces of kindness in their world. None of the Boa sisters trust easily, especially not Hancock, and especially if it came to her daughter. But Hancock trusted Nightshade, and that was a feat in of itself. And so Hancock sets off on her ship, trusting her beloved daughter to her bodyguard and ex-empress of the Amazon. Though it’s only for a few days Dicentra helps keep things afloat alongside Gloriosa.

Chapter 2: where the story begins

By 13 Dicentra knows the Amazon lily like the back of her hand. She knows every trail, bend of the river and cove there’s to find in the lush landscape populated by snaking vines and flowers. Pollen coats the air in sweet smells as the distinct smell of rain coming sets in for the young princess and her shadow. But the Rowling black clouds did little to dismay the young girl, if anything it only made her more excited as she quickened her pace and hopped over twisting roots. Having a storm in the calm belt was a rare occurrence, the lack of wind and still waters kept for a stagnant environment but once in awhile a storm would drift from the grand line and breeze briefly through the still water and die off. It made for decent rainfall and any occasional change in weather from the hot climate was always something welcome to the young girl. Nightshade would agree in that retrospect, from the few moments she talked of times past was she talked of a place described as an eternal flowering spring, not cold but not yet summer (though apparently a northern area had snow). So Dicentra raced to the many hidden beaches and coves of the Amazon lily.

its towering cliffs her beloved home had many secret coves beside the main waterway into the heart of the city. Many laid forgotten to time, old boats used generations ago laying still in soft sand that crunched beneath her feet. Typically there was no tide at these hidden beaches and coves, just stagnant water lifting at a certain level against the sand. No white foam decorating its edges like lace if not for the storm stirring the waves. She can’t help but giggle at the sensation, even if her stockings got wet in the ordeal. A few feet away nightshade stood as the wind blew past, still and silent yet eased by now dropping of rain on warm skin.

The rain is cool and refreshing, trailing down and leaving hair damp.

But calm only lasts a moment.

Typically when a storm blew through the calm belt it was mild at worst and calm rain at its least. It was almost always that way with nothing to keep feeding its trajectory as it fizzled out and died.

But sometimes depending on how large the storm was prior it could survive long enough to be just as powerful as it was in the grand line.

One second Dicentra is standing at the waters edge basking in the cool rain, the other second she’s dragged in by once cerulean blue waves that became crashing cold darkness. The void encompasses the entirety of her as she’s choked from air and the cold grasping at her bones. Instinct sets in immediately but the shock of near icey waves and pulling current tossing her like a rag doll make it impossible to do so. Helplessly she floats in near darkness as storm clouds blocked out sun and made the waters a chilling void. The image of complete utter darkness as she reaches blindly engraved itself in her mind. Never once has she felt such a fear of the dark. When she was younger she hadn’t feared it, rather was intrigued to explore it instead. But now it grips and drags her down down, down into is abyss.

But then a hand appears from the dark, Nightshade.

Twitchy and icey fingers grasp the stronger hand that then pulls.

She lands on the old rickety boat with a thud and immediately sea water streams out in pained coughs. Wind blows wildly tussling hair as waves crash against the edges of the boat. She can barely see over wet hair clinging to her face but she feels Nightshade hold her for dear life and above the yelling waves her protector screams to hold onto her with all she can.

Dicentra does as says and feels a colossal pain hit her before a once friendly darkness consumes her vision.

Chapter 3: turning point

Waking up is typically a calming routine for Dicentra. If mom wasn’t on a warlord meeting she’d brush sit down with her and her mom would brush her hair. It was a daily tradition, on in which her mother would hum quietly and gently comb through her hair. Sometimes she’d check to see if the pink dye of her hair was loosing its pigment, if so she’d ask if she wanted to leave it natural or dye it once more. Dicentra always opted to dye it again. Crushed up flowers mixed with imported hair products then used to stain once lily White hair again. That was their tradition together alongside at night having mom look at her wings and care for them. Apologizing as she helped her wings molt or placing a soothing cream on the sore hurting appendages. So waking up one morning with sunlight streaming on her face on linen instead of the familiar feeling of silk is odd. Not bad but it doesn’t make sense for a few moments as her sleep plagued brain thought through what had happened.

She remembered a storm, darkness gripping her, coughing up slat water that burned her lungs and then clutching Nightshade for dear life.

Nightshade!

Despite her body feeling like wet bricks Dicentra finds herself dragging herself from the small bed she was laid on. Blindly she reaches out expecting to find her closest companion besides her family. Instead though she meets something else instead.

Nightshade was a lithe person. beautifully strong despite her lack of visible muscles. She used to ask her shadow of a bodyguard how she was able to be so strong without being as muscular as aunty Marigold. The quiet woman would simply hum, saying something about she isn’t strong but has good instincts and reflexes. Point being in all of this the arm she grabbed wasn’t that of Nightshade, it was muscular

“Oh yoi? You’re awake finally.” The voice is weirdly deep and as her eyes adjust Dicentra is faced with someone crouching down to her level. Blue eyes stare at her from behind glasses….this was a weird looking woman.

This is where things would come into motion

I’ll leave it at this for now. But rest assured she has more story

[a-big-apple]

Gideon, Harrow, and "Wedding Vows"

i frequently see the interpretation that this:

"The land that shall receive thee dying, in the same will I die: and there will I be buried. The Lord do so and so to me, and add more also, if aught but death part me and thee," said Gideon. (GtN 438)

plus this:

"If I forget you, let my right hand be forgotten," her mouth was saying. "Add more also, if aught but death part me and thee." And, unsteadily: "Griddle." (HtN 360)

plus this:

It didn't even matter when Kiriona said, "Sure, Cam. Marry a moron, then die. I get the urge." (NtN 372)

equals Gideon and Harrow are married! crying face emoji!

i'm not disparaging that interpretation, i think it's valid and has some basis in the text, and even if it wasn't/didn't, i think fans should have all the fun they want. but for me, it doesn't fully capture the complexity of what Gideon and Harrow are to each other, and i want to explore a slightly less straightforward reading.

Catholic weddings, vows, and Ruth under the cut ;)

Gideon and Ninth House traditions

let's start with Gideon quoting Ruth. i've seen folks repeating the idea that this is a wedding vow. it's more accurate to say that this is a verse often used as a wedding vow, in other denominations of Christianity, and secularly as well. but in a (traditional) Catholic wedding, the couple can't write or choose their own vows--the Celebration of Matrimony has specific text, with one or two variations, that is always used.

now, we haven't seen a Ninth House marriage ceremony. if we do see such a thing in AtN and discover that Ruth 1:17 is part of that tradition, i will cry a million happy queer tears about it. but i think it's somewhat likely that Gideon has never even seen a Ninth House wedding, given how small and trending elderly the population is, and that we know no couples in her lifetime have had kids other than the Reverend Parents.

what i'm getting at here is that this quotation from Ruth doesn't seem, to me, to represent something that's religiously or traditionally binding in Ninth House culture. it uses some similar language to Catholic marriage vows, "until death do us part" etc, but i don't think these are words that make them married in the eyes of the Ninth or the Houses at large, i think these are words Gideon has chosen as a specific expression of her devotion. and where does she get them from, if not some Ninth House ceremony or scripture?

well, this is a slightly longer stretch, but at the point in the story when Gideon says this, she's already dead. Harrow has begun to absorb her--and thanks to "The Unwanted Guest," we know that souls are porous, permeable, and rub off on each other when they're in contact. Gideon's soul is at this moment being integrated into Harrow's; Harrow has certainly read all kinds of books on the Ninth ranging from usual to totally heretical, some of them probably extremely old, and it's not unreasonable to think writings from before the Resurrection might have been copied and recopied into something Harrow could access. And speaking of soul permeability, Harrow's had Alecto's soul clinging onto hers for seven years, and Alecto's soul is in intimate contact with John's soul--there are so many ways for this bit of scripture to make its way into Gideon's non-corporeal mouth. the STI (Soulfully Transmitted Infection) of biblical knowledge.

Ruth in context

now let's talk a little about Ruth, the book of the Bible and also the character of the Bible, and Naomi, who she is swearing her devotion to. tl;dr, Naomi and her husband and two grown sons are Israelites who immigrate to Moab, a "pagan" nation, to escape famine. Naomi's two sons marry Moabite women; then the sons both die, as does Naomi's husband. Naomi, having lost everything, decides to return home where she'll be penniless and have a bad life but at least she'll be among her people; she tells her two daughters-in-law to go back to their families. One of them goes.

The other, Ruth, refuses, and swears beautiful devotion to Naomi, as we've heard Gideon quote: "She answered: Be not against me, to desire that I should leave thee and depart: for whithersoever thou shalt go, I will go: and where thou shalt dwell, I also will dwell. Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. The land that shall receive thee dying, in the same will I die: and there will I be buried. The Lord do so and so to me, and add more also, if aught but death part me and thee."

in a biblical context, this has nothing to do with a wedding vow. Ruth is promising to leave the comfort of her own people, religion, and homeland to stay with her mother-in-law Naomi, even though the connection they had (Naomi's son, Ruth's husband) is gone, and all they have to look forward to is a terrible life of grief and bitterness. this is frequently interpreted as a parallel to Jesus, who (in the religious perspective) made the sacrifice of leaving his place with God and becoming human out of devotion to humanity, in order to live and suffer and redeem us. woof, this is giving me flashbacks to CCD.

of course, many Christians resist interpreting what passes between Ruth and Naomi as resembling a wedding vow for homophobic reasons too--making it about Jesus is a way to make it less queer--but i think the point still stands that this is a more complicated, and less marriage-related, expression of love than it seems taken on its own.

Harrow's lamentation

when Harrow later echoes it back, she conflates it with a different biblical quotation: "On the willows in the midst thereof we hung up our instruments. For there they that led us into captivity required of us the words of songs. And they that carried us away, said: Sing ye to us a hymn of the songs of Sion. How shall we sing the song of the Lord in a strange land? If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand be forgotten. Let my tongue cleave to my jaws, if I do not remember thee: If I make not Jerusalem the beginning of my joy."

it's a lament, an expression of mourning, a longing for home from someone who has been forcibly removed from it. when combined with the Ruth quotation, in which Ruth is giving up her home in her devotion, this really reads to me as both Harrow's grief, immediate and overpowering, and a realization that Gideon is her home, and failing to acknowledge that is as disabling as the loss of a hand or of the power of speech. Gideon is the beginning of her joy, and Harrow is, in this moment, putting Gideon above the Ninth House in her devotion. above Alecto. above everything.

and again, i'm not saying all of that can't be about marriage, but it's about a relationship much more complicated than marriage can encompass in the context House cultural norms.

Kiriona Gaia, saddest girl

this brings me to Kiriona, and "marry a moron, then die." consider the context of this, and the tone. Kiriona's deeply, deeply hurt. the saddest girl in the universe. she died for Harrow, avowed her devotion to Harrow, and then (from her perspective) was rejected; buried; excised from Harrow's brain and then from her body. Kiriona, as she did when she was Gideon, covers her emotions with humor and sarcasm. i suspect she's even less able to handle being vulnerable as Kiriona than she ever was before. she's making light of Canaan House and what happened there, and it's only in sarcastically downplaying what she's been through that she recounts her relationship to Harrow as a marriage--something she has almost no positive examples of, something that is in her experience frequently political and joyless. also notably, she frames it as a marriage that occurred before she died.

Their actual vow

what Gideon (and Kiriona) really wants--she tells us over and over again--is to be a true cavalier.

and what does Gideon's ghost repeat right before she devastates us with Ruth 1:17?

"One flesh, one end," said Gideon, and it was a murmur now, on the very edge of hearing. Harrow said, "Don't leave me." (GtN 438)

it's taken me a dozen paragraphs just to propose that this is their vow. "One flesh, one end" are the actual words that need to be spoken, in Gideon and Harrow's cultural context, to bring them into an official union with each other; a union that is arguably more fundamental in the Houses, and certainly more complicated, than a marriage. a union Gideon specifically wants, and has seen in action.

in the pool, they vow to each other as cavalier and necromancer. in the moments before Gideon's death, she forgives Harrow again, and exposes her heart: "'You know I only care about you,' she said in a brokenhearted rush" (GtN 430). then she repeats their oath again, acknowledges the pain she's about to cause for Harrow, and rededicates herself to the Ninth--a place she never really belonged, Harrow's home and people more than her own, as Ruth dedicated herself to Naomi's home and people. Gideon "married" her moron in the pool, and now she dies to fulfill that vow.

and as we saw above, after Gideon's death, she reminds Harrow again of their union--of its importance, of how she's fulfilling what she has interpreted to be her whole purpose as a cavalier--and it's in response to Harrow's "don't leave me" that Gideon offers a final reassurance of her devotion. in her mind, this sacrifice is its ultimate expression, the most inextricable and undeniable union two people can achieve.

Gideon believes she'll be part of Harrow forever.

[lailoken]

I really hate doing this, but earlier today, my puppy Rowland was running outside with his brother when he took a tumble and ended up running straight into an old metal tool of my father-in-law's. The metal caught the flesh on his side in three spots and tore some large and deep gashes in his hide and underlying muscle. Initially, between the blood and the way he was crying and limping, I really thought he had managed to stab himself in the gut, which was a particularly horrifying thought since I was alone in the countryside with no way to get him quick medical help at the time.

After soothing him enough to get a better look at his wounds, I was deeply relieved to see no signs of abdominal perforation, but I was still taken aback by how bad his injuries were and how much he was bleeding. While I waited desperately for my father-in-law to get home and lend me his truck, I gently cleaned Rowland's wounds, and I thank all the gods that I was able to work a successful Blood Stanching charm on him despite the severity of the bleeding. He was already beginning to shiver and drool with nausea, making me think he was starting to go into shock, so I'm not sure how much worse it might have gotten if I hadn't stemmed the flow of bood.

I managed to get him to the vet, where he had to stay for the day being cleaned, treated, and given 15 stitches. He is clearly in a lot of pain and fear, but he should recover fine, which I am beyond grateful for. That being said, though, the veterinary bill was $864 (everything on the itemized invoice below plus an additional $17 for anti-nausea meds that prevent him from throwing up after anesthesia, which could tear his sitches) and while we were able to pull from our savings to pay for this, it's still a rather disheartening financial turn of events. Especially since I've been mostly working free cases the past few weeks, meaning that I've taken in very little money recently. While I trust my spirits to keep our needs met so long as I honor my vows, it would still be nice not to be forced into depleting our life savings.

I held a raffle once to help fundraise for my older dogs who had started a regimen of expensive pain medications at the time, and I am now considering doing this again. Specifically, I am considering raffling off a handmade wooden stave that I'm currently selling for $200. I was thinking that, since this piece is highly unique and fairly expensive, people might want to enter the raffle for $5 a person (using the link I end up providing) and then the winner would be chosen by a random number generator. Whoever won would end up with a $200 Stave of braided thorny Crabapple wood that was harvested from a 120+ year old tree and sealed with a traditional black Hearth Soot stain, for only $5.

Of course, a raffle like this would only be of use if enough people think they would actually consider entering the raffle. After all, if only 20 people entered, I would be selling this $200 piece for $100, which wouldn't help me fund this medical care and would actually lose me money overall. As such, I figured I would make poll to help me gauge the viability of this idea, like I did the last time.

Sorry again to be doing this. I hope you can understand. ♡

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid | Chapter 24

Word Count: 3.1K Warnings: mentions of child endangerment and abuse

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack, as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

A/N: next couple of chapters are gonna delve into Henry's past, so hopefully I can get them out on time since I don't really have to follow a timeline.

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“I guess this is as good a time as ever to tell you,” Henry sighed as he sat on their breakfast nook table. “I think it's best if you sit down, kid.”  

“Absolutely not,” Rebecca interjected. “We agreed, Henry. It is not the right time.”  

“Not the right time?” the man exclaimed. “She is begging us for answers. I won't keep lying to her anymore. I've done what you wanted for long enough. (Y/N) knows the truth, and she knows it today.”  

Henry and Rebecca shared a menacing stare. Each was testing to see what lines would be crossed and weighing who would be the one to break the pact they had made close to eighteen years before. The woman could see her husband's resolve strengthening as the seconds passed. He was going to tell their daughter everything, and he was going to do it now.    

Henry Argent had been raised to hate the supernatural. From a young age, he had been trained and conditioned to hunt the dangerous creatures that threatened the existence of humans. And he truly believed it was the right thing to do. Being brought up by a man like Gerard Argent did not give much space to believe it was us against them.  

Months after turning twenty-five, his father sent him on a solo mission to Maine on a covert hunting mission disguised as an arms deal. Gerard had wanted to send Chris, but his recent marriage to Victoria and subsequent hunter training had the younger man's entire focus. It was no secret that the man favored his two younger children, always had. The evidence was in the time he invested, in the trust he bestowed upon them, and in the cases he threw their way. But that didn't stop Henry from trying his hardest to get on his father's good graces, even if the old man did not care for it. Maybe he had known who his son was long before he'd had the chance to figure it out.  

That was the moment he crossed paths with Rebecca Maynard, the oldest daughter of a fellow hunter family. They had seen each other in passing, mostly in group training, but had never gotten close enough to share a word. And since every mission needed a matriarch, and since she was of close age, she had been chosen to lead the assignment.  

On the flight to Maine, his home state, Rebecca sat next to him. She was cordial enough but nothing to write home about. They mostly spoke about their mission. The werewolf pack they were hunting had allegedly been responsible for the deaths of five people so far in the town of Fort Kent, and it was rumored more were to follow. The hunters had been on high alert by the brutality of the murders—people found with their chests slashed deep enough that only one creature would be able to do it. At least, that's what they had been told.  

Henry didn't think much of Rebecca then. She was attractive, smart, and charismatic enough, but simply not for him. She was the kind of girl he could see himself spending the night with, maybe a couple of months of a relationship, but anything past that was a cruel joke. One cosmically cruel joke.  

Stepping foot in Maine felt like coming home. He had spent less than five years there, but something about the place called to him. It had started as a small rumbling in the pit of his stomach when he was across the country but quickly turned into an unrelenting tug that pulled him there, especially to the town of Allagash. Odd, given that he was born almost six hours away in Westbrook and had never stepped foot that far north in the state.  

Yet, he did not speak of this need to go north. Instead, he settled with his team of hunters in the Argent property in Westbrook—a well-equipped and opulent home that kept appearances, just like the Argents knew to do.  

“Alright,” Rebecca said as she laid out a map of Maine on the dinner table. “We are around five hours away from Fort Kent, give or take. As of now, there have been no more reports of attacks. It seems after our little werewolf friends raged six weeks back, they've been satiated. But there have been reports from our sources that a pack has been seen around the area.”  

“How can we be sure it's them?” a rookie hunter asked. “I mean, it's not like they'd be walking around claiming the murders, right?”  

“That's why we're here, Joseph,” she retorted as she rolled her eyes. “Tomorrow, we leave at 0600 hours for Fort Kent. I have a contact that's gotten us a hideout with all the necessary equipment to make them talk. If their information is good, we should find this pack hiding out in the Lonesome Pine Trails. Now, we know they may be violent, so if you see one that you cannot subdue, shoot to kill.”  

The words fell so easily out of her mouth, Henry thought then. She was speaking about another person's life, but she valued it no more than an animal for hunting. He had been raised the same way as her, yet it had always made him uneasy to take someone's life. Maybe that's why his father had never trusted him to be more than the face of Argent weaponry. He was a good businessman but a terrible hunter—morality didn't pair well with murder, it seemed.  

“Ready to go, Argent?” Rebecca asked, breaking him out of the trance he had fallen into since the night before. “I need you on top of your game today. I don't need to remind you that your father is paying real close attention to what happens here.”  

“Don't need the reminder,” he sighed as he gulped the last of what was left of his coffee. “If I didn't know any better, he's hoping everything goes to shit to finally bench me.” 

“Then don't give him a reason to,” she smiled. “Show him you're worth more than he gives you credit for. You're a great hunter, Henry. You just need to get out of your head.”  

“Right,” he said. “It's that easy. Just get out of my head.”  

But it was hard to do when he had a bit over five hours of driving to do by himself. Well, he was fine for the first three hours of the trip. He had popped an audiobook into his radio and had been able to tune out his thoughts for the first half of the book. It had been just what he had needed to clear his mind and focus on the fictitious narrative rather than the strange happenings his brain had concocted.  

Yet, the closer he got to the north, the less he could concentrate on the words being read to him. There was an invisible pull that wanted him to stray off the path. He followed the trail of black SUVs up the highway, but as the minutes passed, the need to veer off track was almost unbearable. They were already so close to Fort Kent, only a few more minutes, and the job could be done. Then, he was just a plane ride away from Washington and the admiration of his father. Just a few minutes and the distraction would stop.  

The cars took the exit to the town, a message appearing on Henry’s phone. They were only two minutes away from their destination. Just a right and a left after taking the exit, and they’d arrive. All he had to do was follow instructions and catch the pack that was causing a disturbance. That’s all. Follow instructions and win his father’s acceptance.  

Follow instructions. Just follow the instructions.  

But as the last SUV in front of him turned, he continued driving when it was his turn. He shouldn’t have; he knew that. But the pull was too strong. It made his muscles tighten, and his joints lock up. Taking the exit like he was supposed to would have been excruciatingly painful. He didn’t know how he knew that, but something deep inside him told him it would.  

His phone flashed with message after message, call after call, but he ignored them all. He pressed his foot on the gas and didn’t look back. That was the moment he noticed his GPS hadn't even been programmed to Fort Kent. Allagash Wilderness Waterway, the screen read. Henry didn't remember ever writing that, but he also didn't remember writing the correct coordinates, either. Hell, he didn't even recall touching the machine at all. Yet, he didn't question why he was driving three more hours to the forest. The man simply kept driving.  

The magnetism grew the less distance that stood between him and the woods. He'd only gone to the Allagash wilderness once when he was younger. His father had taken Chris and him there on a supposed camping trip. He had been fifteen and his brother just shy of twelve—Kate was only a couple of weeks old. The kids had been excited to spend time outdoors with their dad. With a baby at home, everything had come to a standstill with their training, all the focus set on crying Kate. They rarely had any bonding time, given their father's job either way, but it was one of the only moments they thought they could share with the Argent patriarch. But Gerard wasn't planning to spend a weekend with his kids by the campfire, singing and having fun. 

No, he had something else in store. 

The second they had arrived at the site, the man told his children to unpack the car. They each had a backpack they had packed, a tent, a cooler, and their father's own duffel. When they were done, they turned to search for their father, excited to know what he had in store. Instead, they were met with Gerard locking the car doors and lowering his window.  

“It's time you boys learn how to survive on your own,” he had said. “In my bag, you have what you need to survive. All you gotta do is make it these seven days by yourselves.”  

“Dad, you can't be serious,” Henry had chuckled dryly. But the stoic stare in his father's eyes told him all he needed to know. “At least take Chris with you. He's too young.”  

“That boy is old enough because I say he is,” the man spat. “Now, it's your job as the oldest to make sure your brother survives, too. Do you hear me, Henry? If anything happens to Christopher, it'll be on your hands.”  

The older Argent boy wasn’t able to be anything but proactive—not when his brother needed him. He had rummaged through their bags, quickly setting up the tent and making an inventory of the supplies they had. They would be well fed for the night, but it was clear he would have to hunt, fish, and scavenge for other foods. Even with precise rationing, the food they had come with would not keep their energy at a maximum.  

Henry then used what was left of the sunlight to search for branches and tinder to build a fire for the night. The spot they were in wasn’t exactly a designated camping spot, and he couldn’t be sure what surrounded them. He had to work fast, fighting against the rapid decline of natural light. They only had two flashlights and no batteries to replace them. His father had said seven days, but he’d also said they would all spend the weekend together.  

“Come here, Chris,” he called to his terrified brother. “I’m gonna show you how to make a fire, okay? Tomorrow morning, we’ll go in search of water. That’s the most important thing.”  

“I don’t want to,” the younger boy had pouted. “Dad needs to come back. This is useless! We have money, Henry. Why would we ever need this shit?” 

“Whether we ever use this or not after this week doesn’t matter, Chris. Right now, we only have food for tonight, maybe tomorrow if we ration it well,” he explained sternly. “Dad is not coming back, do you hear me? You need to learn this because, like it or not, we have to survive here.”  

“We can get help,” Chris muttered as he crossed his arms in resignation. “Find some campsite near us and ask them to get us out.” 

“You really don’t know dad, huh?” he chuckled. “He probably has made sure there won’t be a soul for miles, Chris. You don’t know him like I do. He told us to survive the week. We won’t go home unless we do.” 

That night, Chris had cried for hours about going home. But by morning, he knew just how serious his father had been. And after two weeks, he learned how evil his father could be. 

During that time, Henry taught his brother how to hunt and fish, his to skin an animal and drain it of its blood, how to conserve meat for longer, how to conceal his tracks, and how to read nature to keep himself safe. In those fourteen days, the older boy learned and taught as he went. His knowledge of survival had been good enough to keep him and his brother safe. But not without casualties.  

When their father had returned, instead of receiving them with open arms and a congratulatory speech, his eyes went to Chris’ wounded arm. “I asked you for one thing, boy,” he spat. “You couldn’t keep your brother safe?”  

“Dad, no. He…” 

“Don’t defend him, Chris.” His eyes were red with fiery anger. He didn’t care that Henry had been hurt as well, a nasty gash from his face down to his upper arm. All he cared was that he had failed. “At least you were useful enough to keep him alive. Next time, he better come back home unharmed. I don’t need your mother’s nagging about him getting hurt. Am I understood?”  

“Whatever,” Henry had muttered under his breath as he walked past his father to the car.  

But Gerard stopped him by taking hold of his arm and squeezing unrelentingly. “What was that, boy?” he seethed. “The words out of your mouth better be “yes, sir,” or you might find yourself alone in these woods for far longer. So, you wanna say that again, boy? Are you going to make sure your brother doesn’t get hurt like he did this time?”  

“Yes,” the boy said through gritted teeth, “sir.”  

Chris had healed in a month, with barely a scratch left over as proof he had ever gotten hurt. Meanwhile, Henry was left with a scar that traveled from his neck to his arm. Thankfully, the cut on his face had healed, but he was left with a reminder of just how unimportant he was to his father. And it wouldn't be the last time the man would confirm it.  

As he neared the wilderness, the memories of that moment flashed in his mind. The scar started to itch, and he began to think maybe it was time to turn around. Still, he remained on the road, no longer following the GPS, but rather the aching in his joints. There was nothing that could guide him better than that invisible thread that pulled him to the woods.  

Henry came to a point where he couldn't drive anymore. It came down to pushing on with his SUV and risking damaging his only method of transportation or canceling it where he would find it if need be. The man was a hunter, and those woods were already second nature to him. Plus, he had the unmistakable inner guidance of whatever was calling him deeper into the forest. Maybe he was walking into a trap, but it was a chance he was willing to make.  

The man strapped his backpack on his back and a rifle on his arms and set off to follow the invisible path that his body was setting. Every step he took was sure, and there was no hesitation in any of his decisions. If he thought right, he turned right. If he thought left, he turned left. He had never walked to somewhere he didn’t know with so much confidence.  

With every foot he put of distance between himself and his car, Henry felt the pull getting stronger. He was going the right way, but he didn’t know why. What was waiting for him at the end of that invisible rope? Maybe someone had cursed him, and he was walking toward his death. Maybe he had finally lost his mind. But the maybes didn’t stop his stride. Henry kept going deep into the forest, following whatever it was that had brought him there. Deeper and deeper he went, forgetting his mission and forgetting his family. Whatever waited for him was his fate, and he would stop at nothing to follow it.  

Suddenly, he entered a remarkably quiet patch of land, and quiet in the woods meant danger. He set his backpack on the ground along with his rifle, pulling out instead his handgun from his belt loop. A branch snapped behind him, and he turned toward the sound. It wasn’t an animal running in fear—it was far too precise and calculated. Whoever was out there had chosen to break that branch to get him turned around.  

Without thinking twice, Henry turned back around in time to feel claws dig into his arms. The force of the person’s jump was enough to throw him to the ground, but not before he raised his arms to protect himself. His gun had been smacked from his hand, and all he had was his own strength to fight against whatever was attacking him.  

The strength and the claws of his attacker could only mean one thing. He was fighting a werewolf with nothing other than his strength, and he wouldn’t survive with that alone. The man knew he needed to get his gun back, one way or another.  

They stumbled on the ground as they fought for dominance, punches, and jabs thrown around blindly. It would be a fight to the death, and Henry had to make sure his prize was his life.  

“Henry?” the attacker said as they pinned him to the ground as though he weighed nothing. “Henry Argent?”   

When he finally looked up, Henry was met with a face he hadn’t seen in over a decade. “Raina,” he breathed. “Is that really you?”   

Next ->

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[galesdevoteewife]

Wedding asks!!! 14 and 21/28 (either or, or you can do both! they’re both about dancing) <3

✨✨Thank you my friend for spoiling me!! hehehe yes these I had given them thorough thoughts!! Imo symbolism is always a big thing in weddings so I made up tons of them LOL✨✨ 14. Rings -

Rings, yes! They looks like this.

I adopted Ed's traditional Waterdeep wedding ring setting (in short, 1. each party contributes a ring, 2.each ring is cut in half and 3.reforged/resized into two half-and-half rings). But I replaced the half-and-half metalworking method with Mokume-gane. At the center of each ring is a small round diamond, and they had chosen colors that best represented their impression of each other. The wearer should always take good care of and maintain the ring, keeping the diamond shining to signify the importance they place on caring for their partner. The ring Gale gave was infused with raw magic. Assume he was 35 years old in BG3 (1492). He was born when the Weave was broken, and it wasn’t restored until he was 22. But he could cast magic from infancy, so my HC is that he can conduct raw magic to some extent. As the foundation of the world and his core, he chose such a ring.

Zilvera chose to forge her ring from small pieces of adamantine shaved off her beloved hand crossbows. She had an almost fetishistic attachment to these hand crossbows—she considered them reliable companions, her pride, and friends that saved her countless times. It was a tough decision for her. She knows them inside out and the change in weight does bother her greatly. 12. Music + 21. Dancing + 28. First Dance -

🕺🎻🎶All-out-Party-Hard, Tavern Music DancePartY🎵🪘💃 The only step that matters in this entire wedding is dancing! I HC a whole set of— ᔓ Dekarios family wedding traditions ��� They are a long-standing and large family with many traditions. Every couple picks and chooses whichever they like, but this one most important/beloved dance is the one almost everyone retains. I'll call it "Wedding Circle Dance."

First, everyone forms a circle, with the couple on opposite sides of the circle so they can look at each other the entire time.

People who are next to the couple move to the outer ring, and every other person also moves to the outer ring.

Repeat until only the couple remains.

What's special about this dance is that the music starts slow and gradually gets faster and faster, so by the end, many people can't keep up, which makes the scene hilarious and brings laughter. Young /elder/limited mobility members are intentionally assigned to positions where they can move to the outer ring soon, ensuring nobody gets hurt.

The couple's coordination is tested, and they should strive to keep up with the dance until the very end of the song, symbolizing that they can overcome challenges together. (By the way, Gale and Zil nailed it like pros, hehe)

^ A reference of how the Wedding circle dance looks/feels like Then the music switches to a very slow, romantic tune. The couple slowly circles each other, catching their breaths. Whenever they feel ready, they may exchange vows and put the wedding rings—which hang on their necks with fine chains—onto each other.

The wedding is thus concluded. The officiant can give a speech or start the next dance.

The family loves dancing and everyone is encouraged to dance all night! Whoever wears out their shoes that night is believed to share the couple's luck and will find a great partner soon.

Other dance vibe reference:

These dances are all about having a great time together regardless of age or ability. That is the spirit of their family traditions! ♡ Wedding Prompts ♡01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31