#and upon looking into simon to figure out how to name him i realized just how clever his name is
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silkendress · 2 days ago
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A Space Barely Lived In
-ˋˏ➛ Call of Duty
-ˋˏ➛ Suggestive
-ˋˏ➛ Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader
-ˋˏ➛ Long Distance Relationship, Civilian Reader, Domestic Fluff
-ˋˏ➛ 3k Words
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After almost a year of long distance, you finally meet your boyfriend in person.
As planned, you will be spending the remainder of your visit in his home, of which you’ve never seen before.
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Read on AO3
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This story was a suggestion i received on my tumblr! (My first one, actually!) The tone of the story wasn’t specified so i just went with whatever came to mind. Hopefully i did alright!
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You were alight with excited nerves.
It was your first time flying, and it would also be your first time seeing the man you loved face to face.
Of course, you exchanged pictures—multiple, even—but you were always miles upon miles away from each other. The only points of contact being the screens on your devices.
Video calls couldn’t compare to seeing him, and touching him, in the flesh.
Your mind was filled with thoughts of him; both excited and anxious. Such thoughts only doubled when you finally landed at the airport, your eyes sharpened to any male silhouette which vaguely resembled your Simon.
You walk hesitantly, yet swiftly, your luggage rolls behind you in a single hand, your heartbeat pounds frantically.
It is then you hear it, an all too familiar gruff voice calling your name over the chatter and commotion of people coming and going.
Your feet carried you rapidly to the source of the sound, breaking out into a jog when you saw a towering figure dressed in all black with blond hair.
His strides are long and determined, and before you realize it he has pulled you into his arms.
He squeezes you so tight it’s almost uncomfortable. You only nuzzle further into him. He could hug you until you were sore for all you cared.
Simon was far taller than you were expecting, and just as solid and broad as you observed through your phone.
Big and safe.
He lowers his head, his nose nudging against your hair. You feel each heavy, steadying puff of breath leave his nostrils—it’s the only discernible indication of his elation.
You, however, were more inclined to wear your heart on your sleeve. Joyful tears were already rolling down your cheeks, your hands clutched at him.
It is only when you sniffle that Simon seemingly sobers, he pulls away only just enough to see your face.
He tucks his head down, his chin almost tapping against his chest. You blink rapidly, your lashes fluttering in an attempt to get the blurriness out of your eyes.
A single, broad palm comes up to cup your damp cheek, his eyes soft and drooping. You realize just how far your neck is straining just to meet his umber eyes.
He wipes a tear away with his thumb, then leans down to press a his lips against yours; chaste and no less sweeter for it. Then he pulls away only just enough, your foreheads still touching together.
You smile at him, still sniffling.
Simon’s lip twitches upward, a muted smile of his own.
Simon takes your luggage, you only brought one suitcase and a duffel bag, but he still takes both from you despite your insistence that you could hold at least one for him. He silences you with a single stern, yet soft, look.
He opens the car door for you with his free hand, once you get in he pushes it shut and loads your things into the trunk of his car.
Simon opens the driver’s side door and slams it behind him with a tad more force than he did yours—not recklessly, or even consciously, but in a way that suggested he was being more careful with you than he typically was. You beam at him. He simply stares at you with a flicker of warmth in his eyes.
“Ya cold?” He doesn’t wait for your answer, he’s already turning the heat on in the car.
The drive had been comfortably silent thus far. Simon had his large hand resting over yours while his other was on the steering wheel. It wasn’t as awkward as you were fearing to share a physical space with him, you think the frequent video calls helped a little with that.
“Want to get somethin’ to eat?”
You feel pleasant butterflies in your stomach from how he was already mildly doting on you.
“Maybe after I get settled in?” You honestly just wanted to change into pajamas and bury yourself in blankets with Simon as soon as possible.
Simon nods and gives your hand a single, affectionate squeeze.
The building he parked in front of was plain, but not wholly unwelcoming.
You unbuckled your seatbelt the same time he did. “I’ll get it.” He mumbled. You were momentarily confused until he came around to your side and opened the door for you.
You feel your chest tighten with affection, and trail behind him as he opens the trunk to retrieve your luggage.
Once he slings the bag over his shoulder he slams the trunk shut and nods his head in the direction of the building, wordlessly beckoning you to follow.
You follow him up the short steps, hovering behind him momentarily as he fishes his keys from his pocket and jams it into the lock, twisting it and opening the door.
He holds the door open with his thick arm, staring down at you expectantly.
You thought you got used to the intensity of his stare by now, but it was like you had to reacquaint yourself with it all over again in person. You give him a sheepish smile and shuffle inside. Simon follows in behind you.
The first thing you do is take off your shoes, holding them awkwardly in your hand for a moment while you think of where to put them. Simon lets your duffel bag slide off his arm and land on the hardwood floor temporarily while he unlaces his boots.
“Next to the others is fine.” Simon tells you in a low mumble, seemingly catching your conundrum. You turn around in the narrow hallway and see that Simon had his shoes—of which there weren’t many—stacked up in a little two tier storage cabinet by the door. He had already put his boots away.
Simon picks your bag back up and tugs your suitcase along with two of his fingers hooked into the handle. You find yourself unable to look away from the casual way he ambles out the entryway, a quiet confidence in everything he did.
You decide to place your shoes on the upper rack and follow suit behind him.
Your eyes squint to adjust to the dim lighting inside—there were windows but the curtains were shut, save for one in the left-hand side of the room that you have yet to see.
You blink once, then again.
The entire space was barren, devoid of any personal touches or decoration. It was utilitarian—almost brutally so.
You think this was the living room because there was a single seat sofa situated in front of a television.
Your eyes flick around the space, searching for any personal possessions you’d expect in a home. Photographs of family or friends, little baubles or knickknacks that told you about the person who resided there. The walls were just as bare; no art or posters hung up.
Just grey, monotone.
“Alright?”
You flinch, looking to the source of the sound to see Simon leaning against one of the walls connecting to an adjacent hallway, his arms crossed. He had taken off his jacket at some point, leaving his well muscled arms on display—as well as his tattoos. Your bag and suitcase were gone, you assume he put them away. You’d have to ask him where.
You feel your face grow hot with embarrassment—you were so preoccupied with examining his living space that you didn’t realize you stopped in your tracks in the living room.
He cocks his head at you when you don’t immediately answer, and eases himself off the wall to come up to you.
“Homesick already?” He catches your chin in his thumb forefinger, gently tilting you up to look at him. Your heart beats faster from the tender gesture.
‘No, far from it,’ you think of telling him as much; but the words die in your throat with the realization that you’d have to admit you were scrutinizing his living space.
His home wasn’t even bad, per se. But it was oddly…Cold. Distant. The fact that he only had a single seat sofa implied he barely, if ever, got any visitors.
You never pried about Simon’s family or youth. The few times the topic came up he would respectfully change the subject, and you never pressed him to talk about something that clearly made him tense. You weren’t sheltered; you knew not everyone had happy or healthy families. You left it at that.
You didn’t want to outright lie to him, so you end up saying; “My place is cluttered compared to yours.”
Simon’s brows twitch up imperceptibly, his eyes still held that muted look he naturally had, however.
“Not fond of the place?” He cocks his head at you, a mild curiosity in his tone.
You consider your response. Simon had thick skin, so offending him wasn’t something you were worried about. However, you still didn’t want to come off as rude.
“Wherever you are, I’m happy.”
Simon’s eyes go soft, it’s slight but it’s there. Your heart melts.
The gentleness is gone by the next blink, replaced by his usual stoicism. “So you think it’s shit.” He suddenly remarks, voice flat.
You sputter out a laugh, Simon scoffs and leans down to kiss the top of your head.
You feel warmth pool in your belly. It turns into an inferno when Simon shifts his hand to give your waist a gentle squeeze before pulling away.
You have to roll your shoulder to shake off the pleasant shudder that rolls up your spine from the brief contact.
You wonder if Simon notices, but before you can ponder that you hear a phone ringing. Simon looks mildly annoyed, but reaches into the pocket of his jeans to retrieve his phone anyway. His eyes only thin out further when he sees the caller ID.
Your curiosity gets the better of you. “Who is it?”
“Work.”
‘Ah. Work.’
You knew Simon was in the military, of course. You didn’t know much else about it. Not for lack of trying—it was just that Simon always shut the topic down whenever you made an attempt to. You acquiesced and accepted the fact that some things were just beyond what you or any average not-in-the-military person should know.
“Gotta take this.” He murmurs, stepping around you and going out the front door, but not before sliding a pair of slippers on his feet.
A realization hits you. Just before the door shuts behind him, you call out, “Where’s the bathroom?”
“First door on your right, in the hall.” He hollers over his shoulder.
His bathroom was both oddly empty yet strangely cluttered. Perhaps due to how cramped the space was.
It was clean, at least. You didn’t see any grime or stray hair strands in the sink from where Simon would shave. His toothbrush is in a single glass cup, a plastic cover over it. There’s a tube of toothpaste laying beside the faucet controls. A large bottle of almost empty mouthwash on the opposite side.
There was only a single door, mirrored medicine cabinet over said sink.
You stare at your own reflection for a moment, briefly wondering what was inside before shaking the thought out of your head.
You were staying at his home, sure, but that didn’t give you license to pilfer around his things.
Still, you can’t help but think about how a man as large as Simon going about his daily routine in here. The space was small for you, it was probably nigh claustrophobic for Simon.
You’re sure he made enough money from his job. Maybe he just found his current living situation to be the most convenient, maybe some part of this minimalistic space was comfortable to him, familiar, perhaps.
You’re not sure. It felt beyond rude to ask, so you won’t.
There’s a bathtub with a shower attachment to your right, the shower curtain is stark white—clean. New. You wonder if he replaced them in anticipation of your arrival. The thought is an endearing one, it makes a smile twitch at your lips.
The toilet was thankfully just as clean. Then again, you weren’t sure why you were worried about his cleanliness—or potential lack thereof—to begin with. If there was one thing you deduced about him through your various calls and texts was that he was rigid with routine and remarkably strict with himself. It made sense that it would apply to hygiene as well.
You wash your hands and dry them off with the towel hanging on the door, hung up by a command strip.
When you exit you find the house is extraordinarily still. You note that the slippers haven’t been returned to their rightful place by the front door, which meant Simon was still on the phone.
Directly in front of you, across the hall, was another door that was slightly ajar. You might as well search for your luggage, now.
You pad over to the door, tentatively pushing it open and peaking your head inside.
Simon’s bedroom is just as plain as the rest of his home.
The bed is nice, with a thick and soft blanket neatly tucked and a single fluffy pillow at the head. ‘A large bed for a large man,’ you muse. The thought of sleeping arrangements cause your face to grow warm. It was more than big enough for you to rest comfortably with him on it.
You step into the room slowly. There wasn’t much to examine. You’ve seen slivers of it from video calls before. His bedroom was far larger than the bathroom but substantially more empty in comparison. There is a single medium sized window over the foot of the bed, the curtain is open so you don’t have to strain your eyes at all to see.
To your left is a closet in the wall with a plain white sliding door. You don’t see your luggage in plain sight, so you assume he placed it in there.
You open it carefully, for some reason you didn’t want to cause too much of a disturbance in his room, despite the fact you would be sleeping in here tonight. Maybe it was because some part of you wanted to observe his space before your presence got all mingled in it.
Once you open it, you see a bunch of jackets, coats, and hoodies hanging up. On top of the hangers was a rack, you saw a an old, once white shoebox shoved up there as well as some other miscellany you couldn’t make out. The shoebox catches your eye. You squint, standing on the tips of your toes to get a better look, you make something out on the side of it, scribbled in faded, black marker.
You think you see the letter ‘R.’ You wonder what’s in it, but get the feeling it’s not for you to see.
You rip your attention away to look at the floor, it is there, tucked in the corner of the closet, where you find your luggage.
“Lookin’ around?”
You yelp and practically jump out of your skin.
You had no idea how a man of his stature could be so quiet, you didn’t even hear him come in.
“Looking for my things.” You affirm, gesturing vaguely to your duffel bag still sitting in the corner with a hand.
Simon hums in acknowledgment, a low, deep sound. He goes over to his bed to sit down on it, the mattress dipping slightly with his weight. He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees.
You turn back around to kneel down and unzip the bag, searching for your pajamas. You can almost feel Simon’s eyes on you.
When you stand with your clothes crumpled in a heap in your arms, Simon tilts his head at you, his eyes watching you with severe precision.
“You can change here, if you want.”
You learned that Simon could be rather blunt at times, and typically wasn’t one to hesitate with making his thoughts known. Still, your body goes hot regardless.
While Simon has sent you photos of himself shirtless—including one instance where upon asking he sent you a photo of himself in the shower, with his intimate lower half purposefully out the frame—You’ve never sent any such pictures in return. You knew he was interested, considering he has asked you before, but you always politely declined and he never pressured you.
You knew that he was simply telling you that he wouldn’t mind it if you changed in front of him, not that he expected you to.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” You manage to reply. Simon eyes you curiously, the implication of your response had his interest piqued.
You scamper out of his bedroom to get changed in the bathroom, feeling pleasant goosebumps go up your back from the intensity of his gaze.
After you’re done, you return to his room, your face awash with heat the moment you enter.
Simon is in the middle of tugging a different, less form-fitting shirt over his head. He has changed out of his denim jeans and into loose sweatpants instead. You catch a glimpse of golden hair starting from under his navel and disappearing under the waistband of his sweats.
When he catches you in his peripheral, he tips his chin over his shoulder to his phone lying on the bed.
“We’re gettin’ takeaway. Get what you want.” Is all he says.
You nod wordlessly, not trusting your voice at the moment.
After selecting what you wanted Simon placed the order. It wouldn’t be arriving for a few minutes. You were quick to crawl under his blankets afterwards, resulting in Simon shooting you a somewhat amused look.
Your suspicions of his bed were correct—it was very comfortable. Even more so than your bed back at home, you breathe out contentedly, sinking deeper into the covers.
“Tired?” He asks.
Instead of answering, you tell him; “Come cuddle with me.”
It was one of the things you told Simon that you were most excited to do once you finally met him in person. Recognition flashes immediately in his eyes.
He ambles over and lifts up the blankets to crawl in with you.
You shudder a little when his limbs brush over yours, his fingers and toes had yet to warm up from being outside on the phone earlier.
You nestle into him anyway.
His arms still momentarily from your shiver, but then wrap tightly around you once you nuzzle in his chest. He pulls you close and shifts to roll on his back, easily positioning you to lay your head on his chest.
You allow your eyelids to droop, comforted by the muffled sound of his heart beating a steady rhythm in his chest.
Simon’s hand glides up your shoulder to mess with your hair idly, affectionate. His other lays relaxed over his stomach. The callouses on his hand had brushed over the bare skin of your arm earlier, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
His arms are thick and muscular, his torso firm and trained from persistent physical exertion. Yet despite that, he felt comfortable to lay on. He had a healthy layer of body fat on top, and while he was far from soft, he was warm and nice as a human pillow.
You liked how small you felt with him.
“What’re you smilin’ about?” Simon remarks. It is only then you realize your lips weretugged up a little.
You answer honestly. “You.”
Simon hums, gruff and thoughtful.
“What about?”
You think of how best to answer that. “You’re nice to lay on.”
Simon huffs a breath through his nostrils, his way of scoffing. You don’t need to look at him to know he rolled his eyes—albeit in good nature.
The room falls into comfortable silence, your eyes don’t fully shut but they are close to it. Simon’s thick fingers keep messing with your hair; it’s soothing, gentle. His touch was featherlight, which was remarkable considering how large his hand—and by proxy his fingers—were.
With the way you were angled you could see the overcast sky out the window from the foot of the bed. It only served to make the space even more monochromatic. You wondered how his home would look during a bright, sunny day with all the windows open.
You also think of what decorations you would put up around the place.
“A coffee table would be nice.” You suddenly say.
“Context, love.” Simon reminds you flatly. At this point he was used to your habit of saying things that in your head made perfect sense, but was borderline incomprehensible once spoken aloud.
You shift around a little on his chest to get more comfortable, Simon stops fiddling with your hair to hold you still. “In your living room, it would be nice to have one.” You elaborate.
“Oh, and a full-length sofa, too. And a bookshelf.”
“Fancy yourself an interior decorator now?” Simon deadpans.
You snicker. “Maybe.”
A moment ticks by, Simon returns to messing with your hair. “Why the bookshelf?” He eventually asks.
“For all of my books.” You reply absentmindedly.
A beat passes. 
“Plannin’ on moving in?” Simon questions flatly, a small twinge of dry wit in his tone.
Your face burns hot. You didn’t stop to think about the implication in your earlier answer.
You think of his empty canvas of a home. You really think.
You imagine a nice, big sofa in the living room. A bookshelf to your collection of fantasy novels in, photographs of you and Simon could decorate the walls and coffee table. Souvenirs, too. You’d have your toothbrush next to his and his 2-in-1 body wash would be replaced by your floral scented soaps and shampoos.
You imagine hanging up dainty little lights for the Christmas time, a seasonal wreath on the front door. You think of plastic pumpkins with those fake LED candles in them for Halloween. You think of waking up in Simon’s arms becoming your new normal. You realize, then, that you’d want to be here, wherever Simon was—barren or not.
“Maybe.”
You feel it against your cheek, the small hitch in his breath.
He recovers instantly. He tilts his head so he can narrow his eyes down at you. “You’re takin’ the piss.”
“Not at all.” You admit.
For a moment, Simon says nothing. Then he murmurs;
“Next time, book a one-way.”
He kisses your forehead and cradles you further into his chest with his hand.
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It was nice to just write something really quickly without thinking too hard about it! I wrote this in about two sittings ;; and i think it shows, but i had fun.
While writing this i got oddly attached to the long-distance-relationship concept, i may add on to this or make something else in a similar vein that’s more fleshed out at some point if inspiration strikes!
Thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoyed! I deeply appreciate any and all likes or reblogs!
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skyefeys · 6 months ago
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realizing that we're gonna lose it soon, i have a new appreciation for simon keyes's name, because it's just...endlessly clever. seriously, there's so many layers to it:
the obvious pun - "shy monkeys"
the reference to simon says, because of how he manipulates people - literally the same pun as simon blackquill, BEFORE the dual destinies localization came out. so they did it first!
dekiller referring to the mastermind in chapter one as a "key" individual, referencing the last name
the latin word "simius" was a word to refer to monkeys, but also to "humans who were 'imitators'"
the fan localizers are geniuses and unfortunately nothing can ever compare...i appreciate them so much and thank them for all their service 🫡
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acetonelungz · 6 months ago
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Jaws
pt1 pt2 pt3 pt4
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Simon Riley was a whisper in the wind.
Rumors and wise tells of the infamous “Ghost” haunted every soldier, even those not on the opposing team.
He was scary. And not the little kid monster type of scary, scary as in he stood in the corner and watched you like prey. Scary in the way that everyone thought of him as a ticking time bomb. Expect for John Price.
“So are you in, Simon?”
“Ghost is in, Simon is gone.”
“Ah, right. My bad mate.”
And now he was here, in enemy territory aiding in the rescue of some soldier.
Simon was the type to not question missions and just simply get the job done.
This one was different though.
Why make a big fuss over some low grade soldier? Quite a bit of trouble over a nobody. His questions remained mere thoughts, as he wouldn’t question out loud his authoritative figures. Ghost also quite literally couldn’t give two fucks.
Following Price, he scoured the hallways, making sure to take down everything threat and security camera. Soon enough, they arrived at a heavily locked door.
“This outta be it.” Price whispered back towards Ghost. “Plantin’ a lil package.” He placed an IUD on the door and quickly found cover before an explosion sounded off.
Deciding to do double kill, he threw a flash bomb to curb any possible threats.
Upon running into the space, he discovered exactly what they had been looking for.
A little feisty brunette who attempted to kick him in the balls.
“I’m Captain Price and we’re here to rescue you.”
“Took ya fucking long enough.” Ghost chuckled.
“Whats funny fuckface?” He did not chuckle this time.
Price huffed a half-assed laugh while lifting her up by the arms, “Easy there, we’re just here to help and we need to leave asap.” With that he turned and headed towards the now torn up door.
She followed wordlessly behind him, as well as Ghost.
As they walked towards around the base, the bodies of soldiers could be seen all along the corridors and hallways. One in particular, was the guard from earlier. It took everything within her not to spit on his dead body, but rather she lightly kicked it. In return Price gave her a unsatisfied look.
“I think after what I’ve been through I can at least do that.”
He nodded without saying a word.
Soon enough they reached the massive tan military trucks just outside the base, only two were present which sparked confusion within the woman.
“How many of there were you?”
“What’d you expect a bloody army private?” Ghost huffed from underneath his mask.
This royally pissed her off.
She quickly got into his face, sneering “Actually it’s lieutenant, and for how many bodies there were I assumed there were more of you. Not an unintelligent question but rather an unintelligent response.”
“You have five seconds to get the fuck out of my face-“
“Okay you two.” Price quickly separated the two, focused on the woman while saying, “We need to be cordial if we’re going to figure this entire thing out. Once we get back to base there are many questions we need to find the answer to. The sooner we get back the sooner you can be done with this all. So knock it off and get the in the bloody truck.”
“Yes Captain.” They said in unison, the woman glared at Ghost while he remained unbothered. Realizing it wasn’t worth it, she dropped it and got in the truck.
‘My first interaction with people in six months and this is what I’m dealing with. One dressed up asshole who is awkward as a prepubescent boy and an old man who thinks he’s my father.’ She thought while riding in the back while Ghost rode passenger with Price driving.
“I forgot to ask earlier,” Price started, breaking the girl out of her thoughts. “Can you confirm your name and status?”
“Lieutenant Collette Swanson also known as Jaws.”
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ghcstao3 · 2 years ago
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ok part two of band au thing :) im making it a mini-series now (part 1)
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In the midst of a packed schedule, Simon only manages one visit back to the store before he and Tommy are meant to be travelling elsewhere—and because he’s so unlucky, John isn’t even there.
He considers, briefly, just turning back around and acting as if he hadn’t meant to enter, but it felt far more suspicious than just wandering a moment inside before leaving—which would be the case, maybe, if it weren’t only him and the different man behind the counter in the store.
He is so, so unlucky.
Simon is attempting to appear as if he's only browsing, but winces just as he's asked, “You looking for something?”
“Someone, actually,” Simon corrects. He figures there isn’t much point in lying, not when he’s running on so little time. He turns away from the display of basses he'd hardly been paying attention to. “John?”
He’s met with a blank stare. “Which one?”
“Uh.” Simon forces himself to pause. He knows exactly what to say—he’d been thinking almost nonstop about John since however many days go—but he didn’t need John’s colleague guessing just how much he’d been dwelling on this visit. “Mohawk. Doesn’t listen to music.”
“Oh. Oh!” The man blinks, a flash of realization on his face before he ducks behind the counter. Simon can hear him rummaging as he approaches, and sees a name tag reading Kyle when he reappears, though the print has been scratched out with pen and replaced with a scribbled Gaz. Gaz sets a pad of paper on the desk, hastily writing out a phone number.
Gaz tears the page and holds it out to Simon. “He said to give this to you if you came by,” he explains. “Heavy on the if because he finally went and looked you up and started lamenting about you being too busy and famous to come see him again. But, here you are.”
The paper crinkles pinched between Simon’s fingers. He knew John had just as well alluded to seeing each other again, but hearing it from someone else makes Simon flush.
“Unless you don’t want it.” Gaz begins backtracking in the wake of Simon’s panicked silence. “Don’t feel obligated, mate. Soap—John can be—“
“I can be what, Gaz?”
Simon clutches the slip of paper closer to him as John's voice cuts through the quiet shop. John doesn't seem privy to it being Simon at the counter until he's sidled up just as well, that same big grin as the other day faltering in surprise when he finally turns to face Simon. Gaz glances between them with some indiscernible look.
"You came back," John says. His eyes are wide, his fallen smile morphing into something of a grimace as his gaze happens upon what's in Simon's hands. "And Gaz already gave you my number."
"It would appear so." Simon folds the paper over itself and tucks it into his back pocket. The corners of his lips twitch upward and a tightness in his chest eases as any prior awkwardness begins to melt away in John's presence. "Was going to add it to my hoard. Since I'm too busy and famous."
A deep shade of pink blooms across John's cheeks. He turns to, presumably, glare at Gaz, but it seems the man had made himself scarce. So instead John buries his face in his hands and groans while the quirk of lips grows into a proper grin on Simon's face.
"I cannae believe he told you that," John whines.
"If it makes you feel any better," Simon says, "I'm really not either."
John peeks out between his fingers. Simon can still see where a blush has spread to his ears. It's terribly endearing. "You're a shite liar, Simon."
There's a pause before laughter is bubbling out of Simon, the easy, warm kind from their first encounter. It feels nothing if not natural the way it's coaxed from his chest, his lungs, his stomach, even over something so simple. Just something so very John lures it out from depths left untouched for years.
Simon finds that couldn't put it into words what it is about John that has him acting, being, feeling this way. He wonders if this is how Tommy had felt. If this is how he'd known Beth was the one.
It must be. Has to be.
"Fine," Simon acquiesces, "I'm not too busy or famous for a music shop employee that hates music."
"I don't hate music," John scoffs. "Might start to hate yours by association, though. If you want to be such a bastard."
A sudden something curls in Simon's gut, an almost self-consciousness despite the pride his and Tommy's music usually incites in his chest. John is joking, of course, but somehow the idea of him listening to Simon and Tommy's music, if any, if ever, is somehow nerve-wracking.
Simon so desperately wants to know what something John actually is, and just where he's been all this time. He wants to know how familiarity and foreignness can blend so easily—it's like he's known John both for lifetimes and the hour or so they've actually spoken in total.
But Simon can only venture to ask, "Have you actually...?"
John nods, that bright smile of his appearing on his face as his arms finally fall back to his sides, however only dimmed by a certain sheepishness. "I have. It's good. I can tell you really care about your music."
"High praises from a man who only knows the classics," Simon teases, if only to dispel some of his own anxieties. "Supposedly."
"A lot of complaining from the man who takes issue with that," John replies. His face softens, then. Simon feels as if they've somehow moved closer, in the ebb and flow of invisible tides that draw them together. "I mean it, though. About your music."
"Thank you." Simon feels the heat of his own proper blush creep up from beneath the hinges of his jaw. "Means a lot."
A silence blankets them, comfortable, but not quite welcome. Simon would rather listen to John talk all day.
But whatever has just begun to settle between them is again cut short by that stupid bell above the door following a stranger's entrance. Simon is the first to step back and something flashes across John's face, but he doesn't quite have the time to read it.
Gaz seemingly magically reappears into the shop, moving to greet the customer to mercifully displace their attention to allot just a few more moments to John and Simon.
"I should go," Simon tells John.
"Aye," John concurs. He glances briefly to the door before his eyes return to Simon's. "Make use of that number."
"I will." The weight of the paper in his back pocket suddenly feels immense. "'Til next time, John."
Simon turns on his heel and begins his slow march toward the door. He almost doesn't catch John's own quiet, almost forlorn 'til next time.
And how Simon prays there will be one.
(part 3)
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cat-o-loaf · 1 year ago
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Ok. Warning you all this is. A handful. But this is concept from my Half n Half AU. I call it half n half cause Simon is half human half ice person in this. Lol.
Half & Half AU
Created by Cat.o.loaf
AU Premise:
What if GolBetty never sent Simon’s mind through time & space, in which he spent his time in Shermys body. What if— Simon managed to put on the Crown the moment Betty zapped him? What if Fionna & Cake jumped out of the portal at the same time?
Hi. My name is Cat.o.loaf and welcome to my Ted Talk.
“…You were…Everything…”
Dazed & confused, Fionna, Cake and Simon lay there on the tetris cube as GolBetty’s eyes swirled madly. Clearly upset at what had just occurred. Coming to, Simon notices he’s starting to change. His hair getting longer and whiter, his skin changing to a bluish hue. His nose started to grow to a point!
Startled, he realizes he had put on the Crown! With a startled gasp and a quick “oh no”, he turned to GolBetty who was fuming! Her eyes glowed and started to zap Simon—-Miraculously he dodges the bolts of fury. Causing the crown to fall off, ceasing the transformation process.
This occurs at the same time Fionna & Cake start to gain awareness of their surroundings. So when they see GolBetty they are clearly shocked by her. Yelling at Simon who the heck that was. Simon explained that—That thing is betty!
Obviously Fionna & Cake are stunned upon hearing this—- but they didn't have much time to process much as Simon jumped into them after dodging an attack. Causing them to fly off the Tetris cube and into the unknown.
Leaving GolBetty in her fury and dismay and the Crown behind.
Casper and Nova
Aimlessly flying off into space Fionna & Cake and Simon are separated from each other. Going their separate ways in space itself. Leaving nothing but silence and the unknown to themselves.
After what seemed like an eternity, Simon finds himself talking to himself as if he was another person. Wondering what would've happened if he didnt of put on the Crown—-or how he shouldn't have done the ritual in the first place. He starts to self criticize himself to full blown saying he isn't worth all of this and it'd be better if he had just given up. (ref to suicide)
But then, two cosmic entities float over to Simon and listen to his self pity. Feeling bad for this human they introduce themselves as Casper n Nova telepathically. They then go into deep conversation about Simon's own self to which involves the whole Mind going through time and space journey.
Properly explaining both Simon’s and Bettys sides. After figuring out the answer a flash in Simon’s mind happens and he is awakened in Ooo along with Fionna & Cake.
Top 3 Fantasies
Now back in Ooo, the gang quickly realizes they have no place to go. Simon can't go back to the Human City–what would people think! What if someone saw him and word gets out that the Ice King is back? What if Marcy finds out……
Fionna feels back and starts to blame everything on herself, saying it's her fault that they are in this predicament. Simon disagrees and says it's his fault. They both eventually agree it's both their faults and there's nothing to do about it now. It’s what they do in the present that makes the difference.
Fionna then makes a comment saying that Simon actually looks pretty cool like this. Cake even mentions that the weird portal thing is still there and she can stick her hand through it!
Cake: How cool is that!
Simon: …erm… I’d rather not have a portal coming out of my head…
Fionna: heh but it is kinda cool.
They then wonder if they can still get back home. Cake is the first to try using her stretchy abilities. So she sticks her hand through the portal and is able to grab something from FionnaWorld. Taking the chance Cake then sticks her head into Simon's head and peaks in to see that……Everything was still the same! Nothing has changed except it was a bit colder than usual.
Excited to hear this, things started to look a bit brighter for them. Until the crushing reality sets in.
Simon is …technically a weird half version of Ice king. What
happens now?
Fionna & Cake still keep in contact with Gary & Marshal.
Simon keeps Fionna’s phone
Fionna mentions her top 3 fantasy again
During this Fionna gives Simon a makeover
Hiding
Fionna, Cake & Simon hide in the Human City under the sewers for a while. Stealing food and clothes from other humans. Simon even breaks into his own home so the trio have a place to clean up and sleep in a place with a bed for once.
Only to flee the next morning. Leaving the place a mess; which causes alarm when they left since the walls automatically opened up. Revealing the crime scene that is Simons home to everyone. Police were called and they started to inspect the place.
Word eventually gets out and well… Finn, PB & Marceline hear about it. Don’t get your hopes up they’re not a main part of this AU [maybe Finn is cause I'm shipping his mom so….]
Prismo & Scarab
I don't have much on this yet. But basically Prismo breaks out of the cube. Scarab gets sent to Ooo and faces Fionna, Cake n Simon for a final battle.
Prismo sends the Multidimensional Phone to them so they can stay in contact, Even though he can get into serious trouble with this. He’s already in trouble so he’s taking a chance.
This also helps them escape the Scarab a few times too.
Prismo sends them pickles
Second Chances
…“Made me realize my life is worthwhile……i'm afraid i'll forget that”…
Minerva & Simon meet.
Abominations!!
Fionna, Cake & Icemon fight the Scarab
“I finally have a purpose now”
Simon becomes a Helper Bot.
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casspurrjoybell-27 · 6 months ago
Text
Our Hearts Collide - Chapter 38 - Part 2
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*Warning Adult Content*
Vince
With the young pup still nestled in my hands, I couldn't help but smile.
Sam did, too, before setting the pup in his hand back in the kennel with Mocha.
"She likes you," he said, gesturing the pup in my hands.
"She's precious and her mother is very lax. Surprised she's let me hold her this long."
"Would you like to name her?" I gave him a skeptical glance.
"Shouldn't the owner of Mocha be naming the pups?"
"I don't think they'd mind," he said.
"But even if they did, what would you name her if you could?"
Without hesitation, I responded...
"Socks."
"Socks it is."
I shook my head.
"Sounded better in my head, if I'm being honest. It sounds like what five-year-old me would've said."
"Nothing wrong with Socks," Sam reassured.
"It can be your birthday present, naming a pup you would've wanted. Just a couple of decades behind."
I blinked as the realization set in.
"How did you know it's my birthday?"
His brows rose.
"Ah, Xavier might've mentioned it this morning."
"Oh, right. Surprised he remembered," I said a little too honestly, judging from the look on Sam's face.
I cleared my throat.
"I don't normally celebrate it."
It was a half-truth, it had been forever ago that I actually celebrated my birthday.
I almost forgot about it this morning.
"Well, happy birthday."
Sam placed his hand on my shoulder.
"From Socks and myself."
"Thanks," I mumbled, finding it hard to restrain a smile.
********
It was late by the time we made it back to the pack, mostly likely from spending too much time with Socks and Mocha than necessary, though, totally worth it.
Sam had dropped the last of medical supplies off at the pack hospital before checking his cell-phone.
Simon and Xavier had.
Though, upon approaching the house, it seemed eerily quiet.
The lights were off and not a window was open.
At first glance, it didn't seem like anyone was at home.
"Where is everyone?"
Sam shrugged.
"Xavier said they were here."
It wouldn't be the first time Xavier had forgotten to text or update where he was but he didn't usually do that lately.
"Maybe he's at the pack-house?"
"He texted he was here five minutes ago," he said.
"I think we would've seen him if he headed back to the pack-house."
"True. I'll check the door."
Heading up the stairs, I could smell something faintly coming through the door but I couldn't put a name to it.
Something sweet and maybe a hint of smoke?
It wouldn't be the first time Xavier burned some dessert but I couldn't figure out what was happening with the lights out.
Luckily, the door was unlocked, but the worry at the back of my mind didn't fade as it was still pitch black when I opened it.
Sam hovered behind me as I blindly reached for the light switch near the door.
The lights blinded me for a moment and before I could process anything...
"Happy birthday," echoed throughout the room like a chorus.
My chest tightened as I scanned the room.
Pack members, young and old, some I hadn't talked to in years, were all here.
Old friends, like Lucas and Dwaine, to new Betas that I had only seen in passing.
All stood in the living room with ridiculous pointy hats, some with little noisemakers in their mouths.
Lilah and Jonah stood near Xavier, while Aspen and Sarah stood near the kitchen island.
All are grinning with matching party hats but it was Simon who held up a cake front and center that had my breath stolen out from me. With the words
Happy Birthday Vince on the cake in royal blue icing and the candles' light flickering in his eyes, my heart skipped in my chest.
"For me?" I said like an idiot, still in shock of it all.
A birthday party?
He nodded, his eyes peering into mine as the bond strummed between us.
"It's been years," I muttered, watching the candle's flames flicker between us.
His eyes softened in understanding.
I couldn't remember the last time I celebrated my birthday, the only one I could remember was a night plagued with the weight of the following events.
A night that I had longed to redo ever since.
I dreamed about it, showing up at Simon's door the moment I knew he was my mate.
His family would welcome me in, celebrate my birthday with little Stephen and sing off-pitch with those silly party hats over pizza and ice cream.
I'd tell Simon about our bond, things would've been magical from the start.
I imagined it would've been like this, with our friends and family surrounding us, celebrating like it should have been.
Maybe the urge to push away and run from all my problems would've ceased to exist and birthday parties wouldn't have felt like something from another world.
That dream became a reality with the birthday cake, hand-decorated, most likely from Simon, judging from the finesse and details, still stretched out between us.
This was what that night should have felt like and now, I was living it.
My chest tightened at the thought, tears threatening to form as I took it in.
"Happy birthday," Simon said again.
"Thank you," I managed to say, looking around the room in an attempt to stave off the impending tears.
Simon set the cake on the counter before wrapping his arm around mine.
When I spotted Xavier and Sam by the door, I looked at my mate.
"I'm not planning on running."
He grinned, squeezing my arm.
"I should hope not."
"And yet, you got my brother to block the door."
Turning us around, I pulled him against me.
His hands wrapped around my waist.
He grinned, leaning in to press his lips against mine.
"A necessary precaution."
"Hmm-hmm."
Simon tilted his head back in the direction of the kitchen.
"You've still got to blow out the candles, birthday boy. You've gotta make a wish."
Leaning down to kiss him, my hands settled against his lower back.
Against his lips, I grinned before whispering...
"I've got everything I ever wanted. What else could I possibly ask for?"
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catolinewsdailyreadings · 8 months ago
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Monday of the Fourth Week of Easter
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Readings of Monday, April 22, 2024
Reading 1
ACTS 11:1-18
The Apostles and the brothers who were in Judea heard that the Gentiles too had accepted the word of God.  So when Peter went up to Jerusalem the circumcised believers confronted him, saying, ‘You entered the house of uncircumcised people and ate with them.“  Peter began and explained it to them step by step, saying, "I was at prayer in the city of Joppa when in a trance I had a vision, something resembling a large sheet coming down, lowered from the sky by its four corners, and it came to me.  Looking intently into it, I observed and saw the four-legged animals of the earth, the wild beasts, the reptiles, and the birds of the sky.  I also heard a voice say to me, 'Get up, Peter. Slaughter and eat.’  But I said, 'Certainly not, sir, because nothing profane or unclean has ever entered my mouth.’  But a second time a voice from heaven answered, 'What God has made clean, you are not to call profane.’  This happened three times, and then everything was drawn up again into the sky. Just then three men appeared at the house where we were, who had been sent to me from Caesarea.  The Spirit told me to accompany them without discriminating.  These six brothers also went with me, and we entered the man’s house.  He related to us how he had seen the angel standing in his house, saying, 'Send someone to Joppa and summon Simon, who is called Peter, who will speak words to you  by which you and all your household will be saved.’  As I began to speak, the Holy Spirit fell upon them as it had upon us at the beginning, and I remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said, 'John baptized with water but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.’  If then God gave them the same gift he gave to us when we came to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I to be able to hinder God?” When they heard this, they stopped objecting and glorified God, saying, “God has then granted life-giving repentance to the Gentiles too.”
Responsorial Psalm
PS 42:2-3; 43:3, 4
R./ Athirst is my soul for the living God. or: R./ Alleluia.
As the hind longs for the running waters, so my soul longs for you, O God. Athirst is my soul for God, the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God? R./ Athirst is my soul for the living God. or: R./ Alleluia.
Send forth your light and your fidelity; they shall lead me on And bring me to your holy mountain, to your dwelling-place. R./ Athirst is my soul for the living God. or: R./ Alleluia.
Then will I go in to the altar of God, the God of my gladness and joy; Then will I give you thanks upon the harp, O God, my God! R./ Athirst is my soul for the living God. or: R./ Alleluia.
Gospel
JN 10:1-10
Jesus said: “Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever does not enter a sheepfold through the gate but climbs over elsewhere is a thief and a robber. But whoever enters through the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens it for him, and the sheep hear his voice, as he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has driven out all his own, he walks ahead of them, and the sheep follow him, because they recognize his voice. But they will not follow a stranger; they will run away from him, because they do not recognize the voice of strangers.” Although Jesus used this figure of speech, they did not realize what he was trying to tell them.
So Jesus said again, “Amen, amen, I say to you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who came before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate. Whoever enters through me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. A thief comes only to steal and slaughter and destroy; I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly.”
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ongole · 8 months ago
Text
DAILY SCRIPTURE READINGS (DSR) 📚 Group, Mon April 22nd, 2024 ... Monday of the Fourth Week of Easter, Year B
Reading 1
__________
Acts 11:1-18
The Apostles and the brothers who were in Judea
heard that the Gentiles too had accepted the word of God.
So when Peter went up to Jerusalem
the circumcised believers confronted him, saying,
'You entered the house of uncircumcised people and ate with them."
Peter began and explained it to them step by step, saying,
"I was at prayer in the city of Joppa
when in a trance I had a vision,
something resembling a large sheet coming down,
lowered from the sky by its four corners, and it came to me.
Looking intently into it,
I observed and saw the four-legged animals of the earth,
the wild beasts, the reptiles, and the birds of the sky.
I also heard a voice say to me, 'Get up, Peter. Slaughter and eat.'
But I said, 'Certainly not, sir,
because nothing profane or unclean has ever entered my mouth.'
But a second time a voice from heaven answered,
'What God has made clean, you are not to call profane.'
This happened three times,
and then everything was drawn up again into the sky.
Just then three men appeared at the house where we were,
who had been sent to me from Caesarea.
The Spirit told me to accompany them without discriminating.
These six brothers also went with me,
and we entered the man's house.
He related to us how he had seen the angel standing in his house, saying,
'Send someone to Joppa and summon Simon, who is called Peter,
who will speak words to you
by which you and all your household will be saved.'
As I began to speak, the Holy Spirit fell upon them
as it had upon us at the beginning,
and I remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said,
'John baptized with water
but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.'
If then God gave them the same gift he gave to us
when we came to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ,
who was I to be able to hinder God?"
When they heard this,
they stopped objecting and glorified God, saying,
"God has then granted life-giving repentance to the Gentiles too."
Responsorial Psalm
______________
Ps 42:2-3; 43:3, 4
R. (see 3a) Athirst is my soul for the living God.
or:
R. Alleluia.
As the hind longs for the running waters,
so my soul longs for you, O God.
Athirst is my soul for God, the living God.
When shall I go and behold the face of God?
R. Athirst is my soul for the living God.
or:
R. Alleluia.
Send forth your light and your fidelity;
they shall lead me on
And bring me to your holy mountain,
to your dwelling-place.
R. Athirst is my soul for the living God.
or:
R. Alleluia.
Then will I go in to the altar of God,
the God of my gladness and joy;
Then will I give you thanks upon the harp,
O God, my God!
R. Athirst is my soul for the living God.
or:
R. Alleluia.
Alleluia
_______
Jn 10:14
R. Alleluia, alleluia.
I am the good shepherd, says the Lord;
I know my sheep, and mine know me.
R. Alleluia, alleluia.
Gospel
_________
Jn 10:1-10
Jesus said:
"Amen, amen, I say to you,
whoever does not enter a sheepfold through the gate
but climbs over elsewhere is a thief and a robber.
But whoever enters through the gate is the shepherd of the sheep.
The gatekeeper opens it for him, and the sheep hear his voice,
as he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.
When he has driven out all his own,
he walks ahead of them, and the sheep follow him,
because they recognize his voice.
But they will not follow a stranger;
they will run away from him,
because they do not recognize the voice of strangers."
Although Jesus used this figure of speech,
they did not realize what he was trying to tell them.
So Jesus said again, "Amen, amen, I say to you,
I am the gate for the sheep.
All who came before me are thieves and robbers,
but the sheep did not listen to them.
I am the gate.
Whoever enters through me will be saved,
and will come in and go out and find pasture.
A thief comes only to steal and slaughter and destroy;
I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly."
***
FOCUS AND LITURGY OF THE WORD
Good-News for Today
What is the “Good-news” for today? The “Good-news” is meant to remind us of the comfort, encouragement and most of all, God’s love for us.  Also, a challenge.  Jesus says, “I am the good shepherd”. The good shepherd tends his fold; calls them by name and “I lay down my life for the sheep”.  They know my voice, follow me and are not duped by strangers. Today, the comforting love is found in the intimate image of the relationship between the Good Shepherd, Jesus, and his fold and in Jesus’ relationship with his father.  We, all of us – children, women and men are invited to be in as trusting and faithful a relationship with Jesus as He is with His fold. This does not sound like much of a challenge. To be in a relationship as intimate as Jesus is with His Father, sounds much more challenging. We, like sheep, are not always discerning or faithful.  Jesus is the unconditionally loving and faithful one. As in all of the parables, Jesus is the focus. This reading from John is not about the sheep. Tt is about Jesus, about God, who says “I am…”.  An identity Jesus claims 7 times in John’s gospel alone.  This claim goes back as far as Moses when Yahweh, God,says “I am…”.  
Some of us are fortunate to have the experience of being loved and nurtured.  Jesus wants nothing more than to love and nurture me.  All of us! Jesus wants me, all of us, to know his voice and not be duped by false voices.  What could be more comforting than to be loved and wanted? Especially by God.
The challenge comes later in the chapter. Jesus says, “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold.  I must bring them also… So there will be one flock, one shepherd.” I have grown accustomed to those in my fold. My fold recognizes who “belongs” and who does not. “We” belong. “They” do not.
Is it possible for all to become one flock? What do we have in common? Above all else we all want to be acceptable, welcomed, respected and valued for our individuality and uniqueness. We all thirst to belong. We all do belong; just haven’t recognized each other yet. Jews, Christians, Muslims, refugees, immigrants, Africans, Asians, LGBTQ+, the proverbial Other, the cherished and the shunned, the feared, the rich, the poor, the marginalized, the prisoner – all of us want to and do belong to God’s one loved flock.  Some of us cannot verbalize this desire to belong to Jesus’ one flock.  Some of us can only express the pain of exclusion.  
What a wonderful overwhelming invitation to be in a personal, unique and intimate loving relationship with God, with Jesus!  
What would that look like – hard for me to begin to imagine. Just attempting fills me with joy, hope, encouragement and most of all of overwhelming Love.  I am loved and so are you.
I want to love in return.
Jesus’ death and resurrection is the open, ongoing invitation to all to belong and participate in Jesus’ one flock.
Amen
***
SAINT OF THE DAY
Saint Adalbert of Prague
(956 – April 23, 997)
Saint Adalbert of Prague’s Story
Opposition to the Good News of Jesus did not discourage Adalbert, who is now remembered with great honor in the Czech Republic, Poland, Hungary, and Germany.
Born to a noble family in Bohemia, he received part of his education from Saint Adalbert of Magdeburg. At the age of 27, he was chosen as bishop of Prague. Those who resisted his program of clerical reform forced him into exile eight years later.
In time, the people of Prague requested his return as their bishop. Within a short time, however, he was exiled again after excommunicating those who violated the right of sanctuary by dragging a woman accused of adultery from a church and murdering her.
After a short ministry in Hungary, he went to preach the Good News to people living near the Baltic Sea. He and two companions were martyred by pagan priests in that region. Adalbert’s body was immediately ransomed and buried in the Gniezno, Poland, cathedral. In the mid-11th century his relics were moved to Saint Vitus Cathedral in Prague. His liturgical feast is celebrated on April 23.
Reflection
_________
Preaching the Good News can be dangerous work whether the audience is already baptized or not. Adalbert fearlessly preached Jesus’ gospel and received a martyr’s crown for his efforts. Similar zeal has created modern martyrs in many places, especially in Central and South America. Some of those martyrs grew up in areas once evangelized by Adalbert.
***
【Build your Faith in Christ Jesus on #dailyscripturereadingsgroup 📚: +256 751 540 524 .. Whatsapp】
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22nd April >> Mass Readings (USA)
.
Monday, Fourth Week of Eastertide 
(Liturgical Colour: White. Year: B(II))
First Reading Acts of the Apostles 11:1-18 God has then granted life-giving repentance to the Gentiles too.
The Apostles and the brothers who were in Judea heard that the Gentiles too had accepted the word of God. So when Peter went up to Jerusalem the circumcised believers confronted him, saying, ‘You entered the house of uncircumcised people and ate with them.” Peter began and explained it to them step by step, saying, “I was at prayer in the city of Joppa when in a trance I had a vision, something resembling a large sheet coming down, lowered from the sky by its four corners, and it came to me. Looking intently into it, I observed and saw the four-legged animals of the earth, the wild beasts, the reptiles, and the birds of the sky. I also heard a voice say to me, ‘Get up, Peter. Slaughter and eat.’ But I said, ‘Certainly not, sir, because nothing profane or unclean has ever entered my mouth.’ But a second time a voice from heaven answered, ‘What God has made clean, you are not to call profane.’ This happened three times, and then everything was drawn up again into the sky. Just then three men appeared at the house where we were, who had been sent to me from Caesarea. The Spirit told me to accompany them without discriminating. These six brothers also went with me, and we entered the man’s house. He related to us how he had seen the angel standing in his house, saying, ‘Send someone to Joppa and summon Simon, who is called Peter, who will speak words to you by which you and all your household will be saved.’ As I began to speak, the Holy Spirit fell upon them as it had upon us at the beginning, and I remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said, ‘John baptized with water but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.’ If then God gave them the same gift he gave to us when we came to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I to be able to hinder God?” When they heard this, they stopped objecting and glorified God, saying, “God has then granted life-giving repentance to the Gentiles too.”
The Word of the Lord
R/ Thanks be to God.
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 42:2-3; 43:3, 4
R/ Athirst is my soul for the living God. or R/ Alleluia.
As the hind longs for the running waters, so my soul longs for you, O God. Athirst is my soul for God, the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God?
R/ Athirst is my soul for the living God. or R/ Alleluia.
Send forth your light and your fidelity; they shall lead me on And bring me to your holy mountain, to your dwelling-place.
R/ Athirst is my soul for the living God. or R/ Alleluia.
Then will I go in to the altar of God, the God of my gladness and joy; Then will I give you thanks upon the harp, O God, my God!
R/ Athirst is my soul for the living God. or R/ Alleluia.
Gospel Acclamation John 10:14
Alleluia, alleluia. I am the good shepherd, says the Lord; I know my sheep, and mine know me. Alleluia, alleluia.
Gospel John 10:1-10 I am the gate for the sheep.
Jesus said: “Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever does not enter a sheepfold through the gate but climbs over elsewhere is a thief and a robber. But whoever enters through the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens it for him, and the sheep hear his voice, as he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has driven out all his own, he walks ahead of them, and the sheep follow him, because they recognize his voice. But they will not follow a stranger; they will run away from him, because they do not recognize the voice of strangers.” Although Jesus used this figure of speech, they did not realize what he was trying to tell them.
So Jesus said again, “Amen, amen, I say to you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who came before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate. Whoever enters through me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. A thief comes only to steal and slaughter and destroy; I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly.”
The Gospel of the Lord
R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
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oh-obrien · 4 years ago
Note
AAAH THE ONE SHOT WITH THE STOVE WAS EVERYTHING! ✨✨Could I also request something? I did feel the duel scene was a bit underwhelming, I did want some more drama tbh (and I love Anthony as well). What about a one shot Anthony x reader, where the reader accompanies Daphne and lots of more drama? Perhaps reader gets hurt, Anthony in panic, angsty and stuff..feel free to adjust
I HOPE THIS ONE IS GOOD TOO!! I took a few creative liberties with this, adjusting the events on the show to fit the request and what not. 
I’m coming off of a little bit of a migraine hangover and tbh I’m not sure how I feel about this right now on top of getting back into the swing of school. This is the first day since Friday that looking at my computer for more than twenty minutes doesn’t hurt my head so sorry it took longer than expected. 
As always if you’re not happy with this, or if you want to request anything else feel free to slide into my inbox! These requests are SUPER fun.
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After Daphne’s scandalous run in with Simon in the garden the night before, Anthony had taken it upon himself to challenge his long-time friend to a duel. The ball was supppsed to be your and Anthony’s grand debut as the newest couple of the season, however, you never got your dance with the Lord, and your dance card now laid empty and forgotten on the floor of the Bridgerton study.
Your dress also laid crumpled in a ball of fabric in the corner of the room. After hearing of your and Anthony’s intentions to begin properly courting, Violet had taken you to the seamstress to get one of your gown adjusted. Genevieve Delacroix had added stunning crystals to the delicate pale green fabric. Your had had been done perfectly by the Bridgerton family’s staff and you had even agreed to wearing a small amount of makeup. However, the night of your dreams abruptly ended when Anthony interrupted your conversation with Colin to inform you both he would be taking Daphne home for the evening as she was not feeling well.
The anger pouring off the eldest Bridgerton was like nothing you had ever seen before and you couldn’t help but wonder if she had rejected the Prince’s proposal, as you knew he had to intend to propose soon, and no night seemed better. However, as Anthony dragged his sister away you couldn’t catch his or Daphne’s eye, leaving your dreams of starting a whirlwind public relationship with Anthony crushed.
You now sat on the desk in the Bridgerton study, Colin pacing around the room in front of you, his boots rhythmically hitting the floor with every step he took. “What if he kills Simon?”
“Colin-”
“What if Simon kills him?”
“Colin I don’t think that-”
“Benedict surely doesn’t want to be bothered with the social scene, does that mean the responsibility to escort all of my sisters through their season falls on me?” The boy in front of you stopped pacing and pulled on the roots of his hair, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. “I’m supposed to be traveling soon! Anthony is supposed to be the mature one, he’s supposed to know how to run the family! Not me!”
“COLIN! STOP!” You finally cut the boy off, standing up and placing both of your hands firmly on his shoulders. “Nothing is going to happen to Simon or Anthony, no one saw Simon and Daphne in that garden other than your brother so there’s nothing to hide!” You dropped your hands from Colin’s shoulder. 
“But-” both you and Colin turned to face the door of the study, Daphne standing in the doorway, her tone sombre and her head bowed towards the ground. “What if someone did see?”
You stepped away from Colin to face the eldest Bridgerton daughter, your tone changing to one of concern. “What do you mean what if someone saw,” you felt panic starting to bubble up in your chest. “Did someone see you and Simon in the garden last night?” You thought Anthony had been overreacting when he pulled yourself and Colin into the study the night before after you had helped escort Lady Bridgerton home. But if Daphne was concerned someone saw her and Simon kiss, maybe he wasn’t overreacting.
Daphne opened her mouth, as if she wanted TJ speak, before closing it again. Silence fell across the three of you before you heard Daphne gasp. “Cressida Cowper,” Daphne blurted out. “When Anthony brought me inside she stopped me and and asked if I caught a chill in the garden.” You watched Daphne’s expression change to one of concern.
“Cressida Cowper,” Colin started running a frustrated hand over his face again, “saw you and Hastings in the garden last night and Anthony, nor Hastings, know?” He took in a long breath before leering the air out through his nose.
Daphne quickly shook her head. “Colin you need to tell me where they went,” Daphne demanded. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, not finding it proper to interrupt the conversation between the siblings.
“Daphne, Hasting has, he’s done you one of the greatest dishonors,” Colin quickly shook his head, giving his sister a clearly confused look. “I’m sure you want him to pay.”
“I don’t want him to pay with his life!” Daphne’s voice grew louder and you stepped towards the sibilants again, hoping you wouldn’t have to be the one to calm their tempers so no one else in the estate would be woken.
“Well, I’m sure both Anthony and the Duke will do as gentlemen should and shoot wide,” Colin supplemented with a shrug.
You stepped between the two siblings, “besides,” you supplemented, “everyone might just think that Cressida has a grudge against you. You did take the Prince’s attention off of her, even if you don’t want to admit it.” 
Daphne, however, seemed to refuse to take no for an answer. “Colin you need to tell me where they went.” She turned to her brother again, a desperate look on her face now, “you know Anthony’s pride won’t let him shoot wide.”
Colin puffed air into his cheek, letting it out slowly before speaking. “Fine, but we’re coming with you.” 
You had been lucky enough to be able to bring your own horse with you to London, and now, racing towards the site of the duel, you were glad you had. The Bridgerton’s horses clearly had not gotten used to speeding across the hills, as they lagged slightly behind you. Years of living out in the middle of the country had given you, and your horses, the ability to adapt to all different types of terrain. Be it flooded field, rolling hills or even shoulder high grasses, your horses were able to tackle it all.
You were glad your hair, still expertly tied up from the night before, had yet to be taken out as it kept the strands from flying into your face, distracting you from the task at hand. Still slightly ahead of both Colin and Daphne you were able to make out five figures standing in a plot of open land between two beautiful trees. Anthony and Simon were back to back in the clearing, both men clutching a handgun between their hands.
“You can go faster,” you urged your horse while he pushed himself to fly faster through the tall grass field, his breath coming out in heavy puffs. Anthony and Simon began to take slow, steady steps away from each other and you held your breath, knowing you were unable to push your horse to go any faster without him hurting himself. 
Both men paused briefly before turning to face each other. Anthony pointed his gun towards Simon, while the Duke aimed towards the sky. Now, within proper distance of the ongoing duel you started to slow your horse. “Anthony!” You swung both of your legs to one side of your horse, trying to keep your balance while you did so. “Anthony stop!” Your horse slowed to nearly a stop and you let yourself slide off your horse’s back, your feet not even hitting the ground before you were running towards the two men.
“What are you doing?” Benedict practically yelled while you ran in between Anthony and the Duke. “Anthony! Anthony stop!” Benedict called when he realized you had already made up your mind. However, his call for the eldest Bridgerton to hold his fire.
Before you knew what had hit you, in both a literal and figurative sense, you felt a searing pain cut across your cheek. The bang of the gun firing didn’t reach your ears until after you had hit the ground, your left hand clutched tightly over your right cheek. Anthony and Benedict calling your name didn’t register either, especially when you pulled your hand away from your cheek and noticed it had been covered in blood.
“(Y/N),” a warm, heavy hand was placed on your shoulder and another pulled your hand away from your cheek. “The doctor needs to make you’re you’re fine, (Y/N),” Anthony’s panicked eyes met your own. However, you couldn’t focus on them with the pain in your cheek and the blood still covering your hand.
An older man crouched down next to you, pulling a medical bag up next to him and opening it before he began expecting the wound on your cheek. “The bullet just grazed her,” the doctor spoke while he began cleaning the wound, “she’s lucky.”
“Thank the heavens,” Anthony breathed out while he pressed his forehead to your temple on your unharmed side, his warm breath fanning across your cheek. “I’m so sorry,” you could hear his voice break towards the end.
“She’s perfectly fine my lord, keep the wound clean and covered and it’ll heal in absolutely no time.” You winced when you felt the doctor wipe something across your cheek, the pain flaring up momentarily before subsiding again. “I’m sure you could tell Lady Bridgerton it was a riding accident and everything would be believed. “If that’s all, and you gentlemen don’t intend on trying the duel again,” the doctor looked between Anthony and the Duke, “I’ll be going.”
Hasting and Anthony both thanked the doctor before he departed, Daphne and Simon engaged in a seemingly heated conversation along with Colin and Benedict. “(Y/N).” Anthony started, both of your hands held in one of his large ones. “I don’t-”
“I can’t right now, Anthony,” you placed a hand across your covered cheek. “I just,” you let out a frustrated sigh, “I’m questioning if your mind and your heart and in two different places at the moment.” You felt tears begin to gather in the corners of your eyes.
“(Y/N), please,” Anthony seemed to be nearly begging, tears gathered in his own eyes while you stood up. Your hands felt from his grip and you cupped his cheek with one, running your thumb along his cheek bone.
You offered the man in front of you a sad smile before you removed your hand. “I’m going to ask one of your brothers to escort me home while you and the others decide the next steps between Daph and the Duke.” He opened his mouth to speak, but you didn’t allow him to. “Once you reconsider priorities we can revisit our arrangement, but I will not be second to any other reckless endeavors you wish to engage in if we do get married.”
With that you turned from the Viscount, still on his knees in the damp morning grass, tears in his eyes and a frown on his face.
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supercasey · 4 years ago
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TMA Child Avatars AU
Alright, so ever since I listened to the episode about Agnes’s origins, I keep thinking about an AU where a bunch of the other Entities, after realizing that it’s at least possible to create an avatar from birth, perform their own rituals and make a bunch of the future Archives gang. This AU has a lot of potential for angst, but since TMA is sad enough, I’ll probably mostly focus on the world building and fluffy/funny stuff (‘cus god knows I’m a slut for that shit).
To all my followers, I’m sorry I keep making kid AUs; I got told in like 2015 or so that I sucked at writing kids and it’s Never Left My Mind, so now I always wanna make stupid AUs in order to practice writing kids better (I also have an original story I wanna write soon with a ten year old as the main character, so yeah, I need all the practice I can get).
Anyways, here’s all I’ve got on the AU this far (explanation under the cut; a very long post is up ahead):
Character Backstories
Jonathan “Jon” Sims - Apprentice Archivist of the Eye
Jon is a very complicated story, at least from everyone outside of the Eye’s gaze. It was Elias’s idea to create him, and were it not for Gertrude getting lucky, no one but Elias, Peter Lukas, and Simon Fairchild would have ever known that Jon existed until he was ready to become the next archivist. Gertrude found out by pure chance when she accepted a live statement from one very frightened Delores Sims, who told the archivist about how a strange man had been stalking her ever since she found out she was pregnant. Out of completely nowhere, her husband died a month after she conceived, and even though it looked like an accident, Delores swore that she saw an arm surrounded by fog push him down the stairs. Things only grew worse for her over the next few weeks, as in the midst of her grieving her dead husband, Delores began seeing green, glowing irises out of the corners of her eyes, watching her every move as she lived her life, which was followed by the stalker in question appearing constantly in her dreams, always watching her from afar, an unpleasant and frankly unnerving grin on his face the entire time.
Suspicious, and finding the description of the stalker all too familiar by the end of the statement, Gertrude investigated Delores’s claims on her own time, going so far as to break into Elias’s office in order to dig up more information on whatever he was up to. No matter what her theories may have been, none of them were anything like what she found in his letters to his associates. Somehow, Elias had conspired alongside the Lukas and Fairchild families to find their heirs/avatars together, and Elias was the last person to acquire one of his own. Gertrude was unsure of the details at the time (and she still unfortunately is), but from what she could gather, the child growing in Delores Sims’ body was somehow touched by the Eye because of something Elias had done, and they would be born with the perfect framework to have the powers that an archivist learns over several years of training at birth! With no time to lose, Gertrude got back into contact with Delores, and after much discussion between the two women, she convinced Delores to come to her apartment when she eventually went into labor, and to give Gertrude the baby after they were born so that she could keep them safe from Elias.
The birth was meant to be done in secret, but the second the first contraction occurred, there was a knock on Gertrude’s door, Elias waiting for her on the other side with an unhappy grimace on his face. He came armed with a gun, and threatened to murder Gertrude if she didn’t allow him to claim the child as his own. Aware she still had many rituals to stop in the near future, and that none of her assistants were experienced enough to stop them by themselves, Gertrude reluctantly agreed to let him inside, but on one condition; the child had to be shared between them. Elias was abrasive to the idea of course, but he eventually complied with his archivist’s demands, not wanting to replace her so early on in her career. The sight of her stalker coming into the bedroom to watch her give birth unfortunately sent Delores into a panic attack while she was still very much in labor, making the rest of the birth a rather dangerous thing, but the child survived, leaving his mother terrified and shaking. Gertrude had planned on letting her go on her merry way after the baby was born, but Elias wasn’t taking any chances, and he shot her as soon as he deemed it safe to.
Since then, Gertrude and Elias have had dual custody of Jonathan- the name was Gertrude’s idea, on the grounds that it was a nice, proper name for a young man- trading him back and forth every other week. It’s been hard, especially with the adults he calls his parents wanting to kill each other, but Jon’s oblivious to most of the fighting right now, assuming his folks are just going through a messy divorce.
Martin Blackwood-Lukas - Adoptive Son of Peter Lukas
Peter ended up running very behind in the whole child avatar thing (a first for his family, something Simon reminds him of on a daily basis), and he really struggled with creating a baby avatar that would actually be able to “keep up” with the other young messiahs that were coming to be. Eventually he realized that his family’s usual method would take too long, so out of desperation he went to Elias and Simon for help. It was Simon’s idea that worked; he suggested that since the normal methods weren’t working, and kids usually don’t become lonely until they’re older, that Peter should try his own summoning ritual like the Lightless Flame did with Agnes. Peter was hesitant at first, but he gave in quickly, sacrificing a number of lonely souls to his entity in a well-timed manner, until finally, he found a small, swaddled baby in the midst of the fog; a supposed gift from the Lonely for his loyalty.
Peter was delighted by this discovery, and so were his colleagues, the men relieved that their hard work had actually paid off for once. After naming the little boy Martin- it was Elias’s idea, though he didn’t have much of an exact reason for the name, simply claiming that it “suited” the child- and before long, Peter began raising his newfound son much the same as he was; in almost total isolation, save for a variety of rotating nannies and caregivers. Unfortunately for Peter, this went horribly wrong almost as soon as he got started, as by the time that Martin was six months old he had accidentally forced five different nannies into the fog out of fear of them leaving like the ones before them had. With no other options available, and being able to actually leave the fog if Martin threw anymore fits, Peter was forced to raise his son by hand, which again went wrong, but for very different reasons, as to his shock, he became quite attached to his adopted child.
This evolved into Peter having doubt of the Lonely for the first time in his life, but he refused to acknowledge it for as long as he could. But he was finally forced to when, after Martin turned five years old, the rest of the Lukas family insisted on performing a test on the child to see how well Martin could handle the fog without any guidance. He had been inside the fog before of course, with Peter holding his hand or carrying him through the dense chill, but the family wanted to isolate Martin inside for a full month. This secretly scared Peter like nothing else ever had, but out of fear of what his family might think, he didn’t say anything at the time, simply watching from afar as his son was dragged into the fog and left to fend for himself. The ritual went wrong within the first week, Martin having a full-scale breakdown and nearly hyperventilating to death, and yet the family kept him in there for another week before the intervention.
The results of the test of course disappointed the other members of the Lukas family, who suggested that they simply leave Martin to disappear into the fog and look for a new, more sufficient messiah to serve their god. The news hit Peter incredibly hard, and despite his previous inhibitions and fear, he knew he couldn’t let the Lonely consume his one and only son. So, without telling anyone of what he was up to, he ventured into the fog, rescued Martin, and fled to live with his estranged ex-husband the Magnus Institute. Since then he’s been living with Elias at his house and avoiding his family at all costs, all while young Martin has grown up alongside the other entity kids and has struggled to figure out his role in everything, but at least he has his dad on his side through all of this.
Sasha James - Chosen Daughter of the Mother of Puppets
(Note: I headcanon the Mother of Puppets as a giant spider, so that’s how I’m writing her… sorry if this is inaccurate, but I’m only on MAG 152, y’all. Besides, I think this is cool af.)
Sasha was very much planned, even more so than Agnes was so many years beforehand. The Mother of Puppets had her minions gather hundreds upon hundreds of orphaned infants and bring them to her nest. She swaddled each every one in her webbing and kept them like this for several weeks, allowing them time to adjust to the webbing and adapt. Unfortunately, most of these children weren’t cut out for the Web’s influence, and while a few indeed held their adoptive mother’s mark, almost none of them were marked deep enough to become a fully realized avatar. The unsuccessful batches were subsequently sent off to orphanages across the world and replaced with new babies, this process repeating for years and years, until finally, Sasha was born. There was nothing special about her parents, yet she not only bore The Web’s mark, she seemed to have it embedded into her very soul. This, of course, was met with celebration from the Web, and plans were quickly made as to how to raise her moving forward, as no one wanted Sasha to end up like Agnes did.
Annabelle Cane ended up being the one chosen to home Sasha for the first few years of her childhood, and she was dutiful in her new, rather honorable role, as she not only cared for the child well, but she treated Sasha as her own, though she was careful to be seen more as an older sister than a mother to the girl; that role was, of course, reserved for Sasha’s real mother. When Sasha finally turned five, the Mother of Puppets announced further plans for the young avatar, calling on Annabelle to take Sasha to the Magnus Institute and give her to one of their hidden agents there so that she could learn more about how the Web uses it’s influence over other entities. This worried Annabelle, who wanted to keep the child near her and prove that she was the most loyal of the mother’s children, but she would never disobey a direct order from the being that had given her life such meaning. So, rather reluctantly, Annabelle gave Sasha to another member of the Web, watching from the shadows as this unworthy follower took the blessed daughter into the institute for further training.
This went wrong within only a few months. Gertrude ended up finding out who the Web’s spy in the institute was, as she had suspected that another entity was trying to control her from the shadows, and after disposing of the threat and searching their home for anything useful that she could use against the Web, she found Sasha. The archivist was tempted to kill the supernatural child on sight, but while she can murder her assistants and enemies without much remorse, on the grounds that it’s always for the greater good, killing a child is a very different story. So she took Sasha in, raising the Web’s child as her own alongside the Eye’s own prodigy Jon, all while trying to help Sasha control her slowly budding powers. The Mother of Puppets has been trying to get Sasha back ever since, enraged that the child is so close to her yet just out of reach, but with no luck, though there’s no telling how long that will last.
Timothy & Daniel Stoker - Dancer and Future Ringmaster of the Stranger
Both Tim and Danny are chosen ones of the Stranger, created as soon as their god had gained enough spare power to create them. Tim was born first, being the Stranger’s first attempt at birthing an avatar that might be powerful enough to help lead the Unknowing, but Gertrude interrupted midway through the ritual. By some miracle, Tim survived the ordeal, but he was left “incomplete” to some degree, leaving him simply marked and not fully connected to the Stranger. The entity’s followers ended up keeping him around though, both because Nikola Orsinov was too fascinated by the newborn baby to give him up, and because his parents wanted him to survive, but it was agreed that another attempt would be made, this time with more planning involved. Four years later, Danny was born, and with Gertrude too preoccupied to intervene this time around (and because she didn’t realize they’d try again so soon), the ritual went much better and created a far more suitable vessel for the Stranger’s powers.
After that, Tim and Danny’s parents died, fully succumbing to the Stranger’s transformation and leaving them orphaned. Not that their presence was strictly necessary after the kids were born, as Nikola Orsinov was more than happy to take over in most of the child rearing, genuinely growing quite fond of the two boys, particularly Tim, as despite his lack of supernatural abilities, she found him to be rather endearing, which is probably the closest she can get to genuinely caring about someone. Both brothers were raised more or less the same way, save for Danny being showered with more praise and being trained as a future ringmaster while Tim was mostly ignored and trained to be a dancer. Some followers of the Stranger feared that Tim might harbor resentment towards his little brother and try to kill him someday, but to their surprise, Tim only grew more protective of him over the years, swearing to keep Danny safe as he grew up to fulfill his destiny and help their family mold the world in their image.
Eventually though, when Tim was eleven and Danny was seven, Tim realized what was actually happening behind the scenes, and not wanting his brother to risk being sacrificed for the world’s destruction, he told Danny everything, leading to the young messiah to run away with him to London (they were raised primarily in Russia, but moved with the circus a lot, and were in France at the time that they finally ran away). There, Tim found the infamous Gertrude Robinson, who he knew had the power to stop the Unknowing, as she had once saved him from becoming the Stranger’s avatar, and inadvertently led him to having a little brother. Tim and Danny have since moved in with Michael, and they visit the Magnus Institute whenever they get the chance, as both boys have grown to become friends with the other avatar kids. You’d think that the Stranger’s followers would be furious about all of this- don’t worry, many of their acolytes are- but Nikola has laughed it off entirely and keeps insisting that the boys are just having a “sleepover” or are away at “summer camp” (in fucking January, apparently).
Melanie King - Cadet of the Slaughter
Honestly, the Slaughter wasn’t as into the whole “let’s make an avatar from scratch!” thing that the other entities’ followers were doing, but hey, sometimes child avatars just kinda wind up on your doorstep, ya know? Melanie ended up being found at about four years old, sobbing on her hands and knees outside of a burning hospital and calling for her mommy and daddy to come back to her, but no one answered her cries, and she was left to weep for quite some time before someone found her. The hospital, you see, had been overrun by the Corruption and promptly burned to the ground by the Desolation, neither of which bothered to stick around for some worthless child. Melanie’s parents were both inside when the entities clashed, leaving her orphaned and scared, and while Alfred Grifter, who had been on his way to a show with his bandmates at the time that he found her, had intended on just leaving her be, he saw the overwhelming rage and blood-lust in her crying eyes, and realized in that moment that she was touched by the urge to kill, just like he was.
Melanie was promptly taken in by Alfred Grifter and the band, who honestly had no idea what the hell they were doing. On one hand, Alfred knew that keeping a kid around was unbelievably dangerous for all parties involved, but on the other, he really didn’t want to leave Melanie all by herself, for fear of what she might do if left without any guidance from “people” who knew what she was going through, at least to some degree. That isn’t to say Alfred and his bandmates were all that great at raising her- they mostly just brought her to gigs and let her play on her Gameboy backstage while they started massacres- but they did at least try to give her somewhat of a home. It wasn’t until five years into this that some other Slaughter followers found out about Melanie’s existence, to which they told Alfred to give her to them for proper training. Knowing her life would be horrible with them, Alfred gave his ward a backpack full of everything she ever owned, a kid sized guitar, her Gameboy, and sent her on the run.
Melanie was scared out of her mind at first, having grown to see Alfred and his bandmates as her new family; she had already lost her parents, so why did she have to lose the band, too!? But there were no other options, she had to run, so she did just that, attacking any adult who tried to stop her along the way. She didn’t actually know about the Magnus Institute when she made her way to London, and Alfred didn’t tell her to go there or anything, but she ended up being spotted by Adelard Dekker while she was looking for a place to stay in the area. Seeing that Melanie was an avatar of some kind, Adelard managed to convince her that he was safe, and to let him take her to someone that could help her. He brought Melanie straight to Gertrude Robinson, who agreed to house the child since Adelard couldn’t, though she ended up letting one of her unofficial assistants (*cough* Gerry *cough*) take her to live in his flat so she wouldn’t be as easy for Elias to monitor/get ahold of.
Julia Montauk & Alice “Daisy” Tonner - Children of the Hunt
(Watch as I fuck with timelines so badly that the people who keep track of this shit will order a hit on me) The Hunt found both of their avatars in strikingly similar yet different ways; Julia was first, born from the womb of another entity’s follower, but bound for so much more than anything the Dark could give her. Years after her destined birth, Julia’s mother was viciously murdered by the People’s Church when she was just five years old, her father Robert Montauk going down the path of becoming a fully-fledged Hunter, and in the process he unknowingly marked Julia with his newfound entity, which in turn unlocked an unprecedented potential inside of her, not that it was fully realized until another tragedy struck her. This next tragedy, unfortunately, claimed Julia’s father. Mr. Pitch was mistakenly summoned, and in it’s rage, it destroyed Robert while he was in the midst of a sacrifice. The monster would’ve gotten Julia next, had it not been for the intervention of a nearby Hunter.
Trevor Herbert honestly didn’t mean to get involved, but when he witnessed a little girl screaming as she ran out of a house, a giant mass of darkness chasing after her, and no one willing to so much as call the damn cops, he knew he had to rescue the poor kid. In a flash he ran over, picked Julia up, and ran away with her to safety, managing to get her in his car (which he stole, but that’s not important) and drive as far away from her old home as possible. In the aftermath, Trevor had no idea what to do with Julia, since he had never actually wanted any kids of his own, but… well, he ain’t heartless, and that monster was still out there somewhere, just waiting to sink it’s cursed teeth into this young child’s flesh. Trevor ended up keeping her after that, becoming her adoptive father as he traveled with her around the UK, slowly but surely training her to hunt the same monsters that claimed her beloved parents.
You’d think that would be the end of Trevor Herbert adopting little girls marked by the Hunt, but nope, he just can’t catch a fucking break! He found Daisy about a year later, when Julia was eight and becoming more adjusted to her new lifestyle. Again, Trevor wasn’t really planning on going on any hunts at the time that this happened, he was just traveling through the area, but upon finding a bloodied up, terrified little girl being chased by a boy who looked possessed… well, it wasn’t like Julia wasn’t lonely, and again, Trevor isn’t heartless, and he sure as hell can’t let things go. So yeah, he kidnapped another child touched by the Hunt, even though this one actually had a living parent, and once again he took to traveling the UK with his adoptive daughters, secretly reveling in his new role as a father. Daisy, while scared at first, quickly grew fond of her new family, and even fonder of her new nickname after Trevor patched up her wounds, and noticed a flower-shaped scar on her back, prompting him to start affectionately calling her Daisy.
Yep, things were going pretty good for the family of three, but of course, shit eventually caught up with Trevor, not that he thought he could avoid it forever.
The police eventually caught wind of “Trevor the Tramp” traveling with two little girls who looked an awful lot like the missing thirteen and ten year olds Julia Montauk and Alice Tonner, and in his desperation to keep from getting arrested and having his children taken away, Trevor fled to downtown London in order to lie low for awhile and raise his daughters in relative peace, only ever going out for food runs and the occasional hunt. It was through one of these hunts that he ended up meeting Gerard Keay, the two of them chasing after the same book that had been summoning shadow people to wreck havoc on the city, and after a bit of back and forth banter over the campfire that was once a Leitner, Gerry convinced Trevor to move in with him so that the girls and him would be safer and actually have a home. Although he was hesitant to accept an offer he thought was too good to be true (also, he’s not gonna lie, he thought Gerry was a vampire when they met), Trevor agreed and moved into Gerry’s flat with his daughters, and has since helped Gertrude and her assistants with monster hunts.
Oliver Banks & Georgie Barker - Fetchlings of The End
Georgie and Oliver are an odd story, with the latter of the two having gained his powers as a mere toddler, being plagued with horrible, ghastly dreams that would keep him awake through the night, leaving him absolutely haggard by morning. His father tried everything to help Oliver through this torment- counseling, medication, bedtime rituals- but nothing worked, and before long, Oliver’s beloved father was claimed by his nightmares, dying of a heart attack that he couldn’t stop. Alone and misunderstood by everyone who tried to raise him, Oliver ran away countless times, coming across Georgie during his last attempt. He found the little girl to also be on the run for similar reasons, but unlike him, she wasn’t the least bit afraid. She wasn’t exactly happy, but she wasn’t a bawling mess like he was. Together, the two of them struggled to survive, relying on kindhearted drifters for support while they avoided the police until, at long last, something took pity on them, that something being a large, fat tabby cat.
As it were, the tabby cat- dubbed The Admiral by Georgie- wasn’t a normal cat in the slightest, and although it couldn’t speak, it’s intentions were clear; it was there to help these lost, orphaned children. Oliver was skeptical of course, but Georgie wasn’t about to look a gift cat in the mouth, so Oliver reluctantly followed the cat and his little sister to an apartment building, and from there, into an unoccupied flat. Since then, the two children have been living with Admiral in that very same flat, the cat providing them with a fully stocked fridge, warm beds, and running water. It’s still unclear what the Admiral is, but he seems kind enough, and is obviously quite protective of his newfound children, accompanying them on their outings and occasional visits to the institute.
Michael Crew - Prodigy of The Vast
Out of all avatars to be raising children for their entity, Simon Fairchild absolutely has had the most fun with it all, treating it almost like a fun game or pastime. He was the first (save for the Lightless Flame having Agnes, of course) to “create” an avatar child, and from minute one he was overjoyed with the results. A few years after news broke of Agnes’ origins, and the followers of other entities were all arguing over whether or not to follow suit, Simon didn’t bother waiting for anyone’s input or permission, simply throwing himself into the deep end and praying he could make his plan work. Seemingly overnight, Simon somehow acquired a baby later identified as the missing and presumably dead infant Michael Crew, who he referred to as Mike when he finally introduced him to his friends/associates. He still hasn’t told anyone how he even got the kid- not even Peter or Elias know what he did!- but by some means, he illegally adopted Mike and took to raising the kid like a duck takes to water; a bit unsure at first, but growing to love it fast!
When Mike was introduced to the rest of the entity followers community, many were shocked (excuse the pun) to see that the infant had a long, frightening Lichtenberg scar running down his right arm, his back, and his right leg, the scars glowing a bright blue whenever he took to the sky or, as Elias learned the hard way after accidentally annoying Mike by bouncing him on his knee for too long when he was a toddler, used his powers to electrocute people. Even with his child being such an oddity, even among other avatars, Simon took it all in stride, proudly bragging about Mike to anyone who would listen, most of these people being victims of the Vast, who were hardly able to hear Simon’s excited rambling over their own shrieks of terror. He usually also insisted on bringing Mike with him, even when he was a mere infant, though he at least kept the kid in a tight harness on his chest. In all honesty, Simon being such an excited parent was what kick-started a lot of other avatars to start acquiring their own child avatars, as he made it look so easy!
However, things weren’t always perfect, especially on Mike’s end as he grew older. Being the eldest and more or less “firstborn” of this new generation of entity-made avatars put a lot of pressure on him at a very early age, pressure which Simon tried to help him deal with by not acknowledging it, which unfortunately didn’t help in the slightest. Thankfully Mike started to feel less unsure of his place in the world as he reached his teen years, seeing as the younger kids were now getting all the attention and giving him a chance to breathe. Even now that he’s an angsty teenager, Mike loves Simon like a father, referring to him as such without hesitation. This, of course, delights Simon to no end, and makes all his peers low-key high-key jealous of the awesome relationship he has with his son.
Helen Richardson - Droplet of The Spiral
Not much was known about Helen when Michael first found her. After being sent into The Spiral by Gertrude on what he thought to be a suicide mission for the greater good, Michael was half certain he wouldn’t find anything but his end in that place. Instead he found a small, strange toddler where he was meant to find… well, he didn’t actually know what, but certainly not a baby, that’s for sure! With no one watching baby Helen, and therefore making him believe that she had been abandoned by The Spiral’s other creations, Michael had no reservations against scooping her up and taking her back to the physical world with him, where he was met be a very confused Gertrude Robinson. Michael wasn’t exactly keen on killing/abandoning a baby after he got out, so he and Gertrude brought her back to London with them in hopes of finding out more about the odd child. Along the way, it became clear that the baby was gifted with The Spiral’s powers, the giggly toddler continually screwing with reality, though she wasn’t aware she was doing so.
Back home in London, it took another three weeks of research, but Gerry eventually found out more about the child Michael had more or less adopted. Her name was originally Helen Richardson, and her father, a rookie paranormal investigator who had once been marked by The Spiral, was obsessed with the distortion, and was willing to do anything to become more than simply marked by it. He ended up finding a map similar to Gertrude’s, and a few years before she even knew it was possible, the father went into The Spiral and used his own daughter as a vessel for the entity, hoping she would be a good enough sacrifice to earn it’s favor. This of course ended in disaster, with the father “disappearing” while Helen absorbed The Spiral’s power, but seeing as she was so young, it couldn’t manifest properly, even after two and a half years spent trying to “raise her” within the deepest depths of it’s domain.
With research still being done on what to do about the child, and whether or not the team can remove her powers without killing or permanently injuring her in the process, Michael has agreed to take Helen in, secretly delighted to be raising a baby. With the Stoker Brothers already under his roof, Michael has his hands rather full with them and baby Helen, but the boys take her antics in stride, having learned quickly how to deal with the apartment they live in occasionally “growing” some new doors and changing color at random. Luckily for Michael, he has back-up in the forms of Gerry and Gertrude, who occasionally take Helen and the brothers off his hands for him so he can take a break/fix whatever Helen may’ve accidentally broken with her powers.
Character Roles in this AU
(Feel free to add your own OCs/other characters if you wanna do stuff with this AU, I’m just naming characters I know about/remember!)
Avatar Kids: Jonathan “Jon” Sims, Martin Blackwood, Sasha James, Timothy “Tim” Stoker, Daniel “Danny” Stoker, Melanie King, Julia Montauk, Alice “Daisy” Tonner, Oliver Banks, Georgie Barker, Michael “Mike” Crew, and Helen Richardson.
Avatar Kids Semi-Reluctant PTA Group: Elias Bouchard, Gertrude Robinson, Peter Lukas, Gerard “Gerry” Keay, Trevor Herbert, Michael Shelley, and Simon Fairchild.
PTA Allies: Basira Hussain (Daisy’s best friend and the local Normal Child™), Agnes Montague (Everyone’s emergency number for avatar child advice), Alfred Grifter (Just shows up to hang out with Melanie and cause problems on purpose), The Admiral (Guardian to Georgie and Oliver and occasionally the other kids; best babysitter), Adelard Dekker (Comes around the archives sometimes and always brings presents for the kids + assistants), and Rosie (Elias’s assistant and the only sane and sensible adult in this Chili’s tonight).
PTA Enemies: Nikola Orsinov (Tim and Danny’s “Mom” who keeps kidnapping Jon on accident), Annabelle Cane (Hates the institute and wants Sasha back), Jude Perry (Hates the kids but loves Agnes; worst babysitter),  and Jared Hopworth (Nightmare flesh man that needs to fuck off; mediocre but funny babysitter).
Character Descriptions
(Feel free to tweak the physical designs if you want; I’m just going off my own headcanons, and seeing as my drawing skills are pretty shit, it’s not like I’m gonna be doing much art for this outside of writing. So yeah, go off with your own headcanons if you want to!)
Full Name: Jonathan “Jon” Sims-Bouchard-Robinson Age: 7 Birthday: October 26th (Scorpio) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Eye, Marked by Literally Fucking Everything Guardian(s): Alexander Sims (Biological Father - Deceased), Delores Sims (Biological Mother - Deceased), Gertrude Robinson (Adoptive Mother - Current), Elias Bouchard (Adoptive Father - Current) Appearance: African heritage with dark brown skin, worryingly short for his age, dark brown eyes that glow bright green when he’s using his powers, long black hair with a few green and grey hairbands tied in, constantly “borrows” Martin’s sweaters to wear, occasionally wears skirts but most of the time he wears slacks, constantly looks sleep deprived, has a very intense stare, and occasionally he can be seen carrying his stuffed moth around. Personality: You’d think he’d be a quiet kid, considering his entity, but no, he has Questions and he wants them Answered, goddammit! He wasn’t raised around many kids his age, being home-schooled by Elias and Gertrude all his life, so he struggles to connect with the other avatar kids. Is only close to the S1 gang at first, but he gets closer to everyone else over time. Idolizes Gerry and thinks he’s the coolest guy ever. Appears rather cowardly at a glance, but he’s braver than most people give him credit for. Would die for his friends/family.
Full Name: Martin Blackwood-Lukas Age: 8 Birthday: February 29th (Pisces) ((This one’s for you, Dane)) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Lonely, Marked by The Eye Guardian(s): William Blackwood (Biological Father - Uninvolved), Edna Blackwood (Biological Mother - Uninvolved), Peter Lukas (Adoptive Father - Current) Appearance: Polish heritage and pale as a fucking ghost, average height for his age but growing fast, pretty chubby, covered head to toe in little red freckles, short and curly red hair, bright brown eyes, wears big round glasses, wears sweaters and comfy trousers almost 24/7, carries a backpack full of “emergency tools” wherever he goes, usually has a cup of tea in-hand, and sometimes wears a small sailor hat that Peter gave him. Personality: Incredibly reserved, much like Mike, but he’s been trying to come out of his shell more. He’s “Best Friends Forever” with Jon, and gets along well with Tim and Sasha as well. Fears Melanie and Daisy. He likes hanging out with the other kids, but he often gets talked over, leading him to withdraw for awhile if it’s bad enough. Adores his dad, and is so much braver than anyone knows. Incredibly snarky when he feels like it.
Full Name: Sasha James Age: 10 Birthday: November 18th (Scorpio) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Web, Marked by The Eye, Marked by The Stranger Guardian(s): Francis James (Biological Father - Deceased), Patrick James (Biological Father - Deceased), Annabelle Cane (Adoptive Mother - Uninvolved), Gertrude Robinson (Adoptive Mother - Current) Appearance: Mixed race heritage of African and Caucasian with dark brown skin, slightly taller than average for her age, long dark brown hair, wears big round glasses, sometimes wears a little make-up if she can get away with it, wears a lot of turtleneck sweaters and long skirts, always has at least one cobweb on her, carries around a stuffed spider that she brings with her to the archives every day, and she wears a headband most of the time. Personality: Easily the most level-headed of the kids, as she’s been raised around paranormal stuff the longest and is rarely bothered by the stranger things that happen. She hates Artifact Storage with a passion, but other than that, she loves exploring the institute and occasionally stealing Gertrude’s laptop to mess with it. Very tech savvy, and even more curious! Incredibly smart, to the point that she can even outclass Gertrude and Gerry with her quick-wittiness.
Full Name: Timothy “Tim” Stoker Age: 12 Birthday: August 3rd (Leo) Entity/Mark(s): Marked by The Stranger, Marked by The Eye Guardian(s): Markus Stoker (Biological Father - Deceased), Olivia Stoker (Biological Mother - Deceased), Nikola Orsinov (Adoptive Mother - Uninvolved), Gerard “Gerry” Keay (Adoptive Guardian - Current) Appearance: Mixed race heritage of Latino and Korean with dark tanned skin, slightly on the taller side for his age, messy/spiky black hair that looks impossible to comb, dark brown eyes, is described as a “handsome young man” by strangers, has a very charming smile, wears a lot of Hawaiian shirts and shorts (even during the winter), needs to wear glasses but he refuses to wear them in the archives out of self-consciousness. Personality: Probably one of the brightest personalities of the avatar kids, Tim comes off as very cool and funny, but underneath all of that he’s rather paranoid, afraid that the circus will come and force his baby brother into becoming a monster. Protective of his little bro and the archive kids, but he still teases them to no end. Smarter than he looks, and isn’t afraid to break his cool guy persona to tell someone off.
Full Name: Daniel “Danny” Stoker Age: 8 Birthday: August 1st (Leo) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Stranger, Marked by The Eye Guardian(s): Markus Stoker (Biological Father - Deceased), Olivia Stoker (Biological Mother - Deceased), Nikola Orsinov (Adoptive Guardian - Uninvolved), Gerard “Gerry” Keay (Adoptive Guardian - Current) Appearance: Mixed race heritage of Latino and Korean with dark tanned skin, about a head shorter than Tim, somewhat neat black hair that sticks up in odd places, eyes are impressively dark and glassy looking, slight gap between his front teeth, is described as being a “handsome young man” by strangers, wears a lot of tank tops and shorts as well as the occasional hoodie if it’s cold, and loves running around barefoot. Personality: A lot of people describe Danny as being a “smaller and cuter Tim”, but that’s just not true. Danny is a lot like his older brother in many ways, but he has a much more refined taste for adventure, constantly getting himself into trouble with Jon on the grounds of “exploring” or what have you. He idolizes his big bro to the moon and back, and loves hanging out with him alongside the other kids. More of a follower than a leader, but he doesn’t mind. Secretly fears the day that the circus will come back to make him into their future ringmaster.
Full Name: Melanie King Age: 9 Birthday: June 7th (Gemini) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Slaughter, Marked by The Corruption, Marked by The Desolation, Marked by The Eye Guardian(s): Boris King (Biological Father - Deceased), Carrie King (Biological Mother - Deceased), Alfred Grifter (Guardian - Uninvolved), Gerard Keay (Guardian - Current) Appearance: Irish heritage but not terribly pale, rather short for her age, incredibly thin from malnutrition, short brown hair with the ends dyed bright blue, bright brown eyes, brings her leather jacket and her guitar with her everywhere she goes, wears a lot of pink/blue skirts and band t-shirts, wears black leather boots, has a lot of bandages on her knees and knuckles, and always has a camera ready to record things. Personality: Melanie is probably the most disconnected of the avatar kids (save for Helen), seeing as she only just recently joined the group, but already she’s beginning to befriend Sasha and Basira. She’s very protective of the other girls, and she keeps challenging the boys to fight her (only Danny ever agrees; he always loses). Secretly idolizes Julia and Daisy, but will never admit it. She sees Gerry as her big bro and Alfred Grifter as her adoptive dad; she misses Alfred more than she let’s on. Would stab as a warning.
Full Name: Julia Montauk Age: 13 Birthday: April 19th (Aries) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Hunt, Marked by The Dark, Marked by The Eye Guardian(s): Robert Montauk (Biological Father - Deceased), Linette Montauk (Biological Mother - Deceased), Trevor Herbert (Adoptive Father - Current) Appearance: Indigenous heritage with dark tan skin, tall for her age, skinny enough to look malnourished, close-cropped red hair that gets her mistaken for a boy a lot, metal grey eyes, a scar runs diagonally across her right eye, often wears medium length skirts and oversized t-shirts, always wears athletic shoes, has a lot of scrapes and bandages on her knees most of the time, and has abnormally sharp canines. Personality: Before the deaths of both of her parents, Julia was considered rather normal for her age, being interested in horses, dolls, and dress-up games. After her mother died, she became more tomboyish, which only became more extreme after her father’s death. Since being taken in by Trevor, Julia’s been trying to act more like an adult in an attempt to seem less vulnerable, to varying degrees of success. She adores Trevor to the moon and back, and sees Daisy as her little sister. A bit standoffish around other children, but she’s got a good heart.
Full Name: Alice “Daisy” Tonner Age: 10 Birthday: March 15th (Pisces) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Hunter, Marked by The Slaughter, Marked by The Eye Guardian(s): Greyson Tonner (Biological Father - Deceased), Antoinette Tonner (Biological Mother - Uninvolved), Trevor Herbert (Adoptive Father - Current) Appearance: Welsh heritage with cream colored skin and a light tan, average height for her age, short and shaggy blond hair, has a number of tiny scars all over her face and hands, has a huge scar on her back that Trevor has told her looks like a daisy, striking green eyes, wears a lot of sleeveless shirts and shorts, refuses to wear dresses or skirts, prefers to be barefoot, and has abnormally sharp canines. Personality: Is already rather hot-headed at her age, especially after her encounter with Calvin while he was being possessed by a spirit of the Slaughter. Even so, she’s protective of her newfound family of Trevor and Julia, and while she misses her mother, she believes it’s best if she stays where she is. She loves playing outside whenever she can, and will spend hours chasing after squirrels and rabbits if left alone for too long. A bit argumentative, but she gets along really well with Julia and Basira.
Full Name: Oliver Banks Age: 10 Birthday: June 14th (Gemini) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The End, Marked by The Hunt Guardian(s): June Banks (Biological Mother - Uninvolved), Isaac Banks (Biological Father - Deceased), The Admiral (Adoptive Guardian - Current) Appearance: African heritage with dark skin, has an array of pitch black freckles on his face, short and neat black hair that reaches just below his ears, ghastly grey eyes that look almost clear and turn black when he’s using his powers; used to be dark brown, worryingly thin from years of malnutrition, wears a lot of baggy and long-sleeved shirts, wears sweatpants, has boots on everywhere he goes, and he’s almost always shivering. Personality: The more distrustful of the “End Siblings”, the only person Oliver even sort of likes is Jon, and even then he’s still scared of him. Constantly fidgeting and yawning from both his paranoia and fatigue. Is protective of Georgie, but more out of obligation than friendship. Prefers to be alone, and rarely visits the archives. He knows something bad is coming, but he’s too scared to do much about it. In the end, he knows he’ll do the right thing, but for now he’s hiding until the bombs finally fall.
Full Name: Georgie Barker Age: 7 Birthday: December 9th (Sagittarius) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The End, Marked by The Hunt Guardian(s): Georgie Grounding Sr. (Biological Mother - Deceased), Sarah Grounding (Biological Mother - Deceased), Jason Barker (Adoptive Father - Deceased), The Admiral (Adoptive Guardian - Current) Appearance: Mixed race heritage of African and Indian with dark brown skin, fairly chubby, has an array of light brown freckles all over her arms, back, and face, has long and curly black hair done up in poofy buns using colorful hair bands, paints her nails all the time with different colors every week, cutest little smile you ever did see, wears a lot of ghost-related clothing (mainly t-shirts and jeans), and she brings her ghost backpack with her everywhere she goes (it has her stuffed leopard inside). Personality: Despite being an avatar of the End, Georgie has a very upbeat personality, having no time for her adoptive brother’s endless worrying and fearfulness. In fact, all her fear has been gone since she was little, so she’s never scared to explore something new and parade into danger! She’s very close friends with Jon (even if he’s distant sometimes) and best friends with Melanie, though she gets along with most everyone else as well. She may be a chipper person, but look out, she’s carrying more baggage than she let’s on. Loves The Admiral more than life.
Full Name: Michael “Mike” Crew Age: 14 Birthday: May 13th (Taurus) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Vast Guardian(s): Ramsey Crew (Biological Father - Uninvolved), Whitney Crew (Biological Mother - Uninvolved), Simon Fairchild (Adoptive Father - Current) Appearance: Caucasian and pale as a ghost, shaggy white hair that’s almost always wind-swept, strikingly pale blue eyes, smells of ozone and burnt hair, incredibly short for his age, very bony and thin, tends to wear a lot of oversized hoodies on the grounds that they make flying more fun, clothes are almost always pristine and clean, his back, right arm, and right leg are covered in a Lichtenberg scar that glows bright blue when he’s using his powers, permanent bags under his eyes. Personality: A very, very quiet kid, at least around strangers. He’s much bubblier around Simon, but otherwise he’s viewed as an “old soul” by most adults. He does have a sense of humor though, taking a bit too much pleasure out of sending people soaring into the air against their will, especially if they insulted or annoyed him beforehand. Secretly a bit protective of the other avatar kids, and has been known to take them flying if they promise not to let go of him when they do so. Nice kid, but don’t make fun of his height or he might just electrocute you out of spite.
Full Name: Helen Richardson Age: 3 Birthday: February 23rd (Gemini) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Spiral Guardian(s): Tiara Richardson (Biological Mother - Uninvolved), Dexter Richardson (Biological Father - Deceased), Michael Shelley (Adoptive Guardian - Current) Appearance: African heritage with dark brown skin (has the beginning patches of vitiligo on her face and hands), fairly chubby but Michael swears it’s just baby fat, has bright purple eyes with swirling yellow irises, has short but frizzy black hair that cannot be tamed, is often dressed in very colorful onesies and footie pajamas alongside the rare dress, and occasionally she’ll have a child leash vest on (though it often disappears because of The Spiral). Personality: She honestly doesn’t have much of a personality yet, being a toddler and all, but she’s a very giggly child, and loves nothing more than making Michael “be silly” with the use of her powers. Speaking of which, she has very little control of her abilities, and although she’s too young to understand their impact on the world, she still feels bad when she accidentally goes too far and gets Michael hurt. She adores Michael and Jon, and loves it when Michael brings her to the institute with him. Very playful and mischievous.
And that’s all I’ve got for now! I wanna write some fics for this at some point (particularly I wanna write a fic that has all of the kids’ origin stories in better/more detail), but for now anyone is free to fuck around with this AU, so long as you’re not doing too much shipping between the kids (hints at ships are fine, but they’re still kids, y’all) and ESPECIALLY not any shipping of the kids with the adults/guardians. Feel free to PM me or scream about this AU in the notes/tags; I’d love to hear people’s thoughts!
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embracedthevoid · 3 years ago
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Songs you want to hear in season two?
Okay this has sat in my ask box for a very long time, so I’m sorry for getting to it this late. But honestly, I’m not one to listen to a lot of music. I have a few artist I like, but I’ve never been huge into the music scene. Lofi is my go to, so there’s not a lot I could say to answer this.
However, when I do listen to music or certain songs, they tend to mean a lot to me. So picking multiple songs I’d love to hear in season two is almost an impossible decision to make. But I did stumbled upon the song Power by Isak Danielson. And as I was listening to it, I realized that the song lyrics themselves could be applied to both Wille and Simon in different ways, and not even necessarily in a literal sense.
I don’t think I’d like to see Simon sing the song, but I do think it matches the tone of the show very well. I could imagine it overlaying moments between Simon and Wilhlem when they get back from their holidays. Maybe there are moments of longing and pining going on, some sadness, and maybe there’s a bit of anger that’s grown on both their parts. Not necessarily at each other, but maybe at how hard things are for them, compared to those around them.
This particular part here, I relate to Wilhelm and his desires to be himself, and maybe how he’s learning a lot about himself because of Simon, and their relationship. Like how Simon told him he needs to figure out what he wants.
“I give my all now, can't you see
Why won’t you set me free?
You got power, you got power
You got power over me
I was lost until I found me in you
I saw a side of me that I was scared to
But now I hear my name and I'm running your way
All I feel as I get closer to you
Is the desire to move like you do”
The part below I relate to Simon because of what he asked of Wilhelm at the end of season two. I do believe Simon loves Wilhelm and wants him equally as much, he just understands himself in a way that Wilhelm is still learning. Simon would not be happy hiding in the shadows for the rest of his life, and knowing that takes a lot of courage, especially for someone so young. These lyrics to me, say that he will be ready when Wilhelm is, and that he will always love him.
“I still look at you with eyes that want you
When you move, you make my oceans move too
If I hear my name, I will run your way
Can we say that we love each other
Can we play like there ain't no other”
Anywayssssss, I know nothing about music so don’t take anything I say tooooo seriously haha. This is just my interpretation of the song, and how it could be applied to the show!
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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 3 years ago
Text
The new Shadowhunter Academy - Fan Fic (Chapter 6 - Staying Alive)
Chapter 6 of the new Shadowhunter Academy (fan fic) is out! ;)
Kit & Ty are both at the Academy for a few days to act as guest lecturers :)
Dru is attending of course, and an unexpected guest might show up :)
AO3 link to Chapter 6 - Staying Alive
Link to entire fic up until Chapter 6 is here (fair warning - there is explicit content in Chapter 4 so skip it if you want to avoid it ;)).
****
Kit was ten minutes late. It wasn’t a big deal but given the students’ eagerness to learn from the famous Christopher Herondale, it seemed like hours of anxious babbling that he might not show up.
Dru was starting to wonder about that herself.
When the door of the training room finally opened, Kit’s cheeks were flushed, his blond curls soaking wet - as if he had just come out of the shower - and he looked… pissed. Like he wanted to be anywhere but in that room.
“What am I to teach you for the next hour?” He snapped.
“Spear?” Daniel, one of Simon’s mundane recruits, replied. He was an enthusiastic student who had been nicknamed “Harry Potter” on his first day at the Academy because of the resemblance he bore to the hero from the eponymous books (if said hero had acne problems).
“Oh, right. Spear.” Kit grumbled as he grabbed one from the table filled with multi-sized weapons and twirled it gracefully – the circle moves almost a blur – before instantly stilling it into a horizontal position in front of him. “See that pointed head? Well, you put that right through your opponent’s body. Preferably hit a vital organ.” He threw it toward the dummy placed at the far end of the room. The spear pierced straight through its chest where the heart should be. “Like that.” The students started applauding.
“That’s it. That’s the lecture.” Kit whirled and started toward the door. He stopped short before the figure of Catarina Loss barring the door. She looked furious, her blue complexion a shade deeper than usual.
“KIT HERONDALE, you go back in there and I don’t care if you look at your fingernails for the next hour, you are NOT LEAVING THIS ROOM.”
For the rest of the class, Catarina remained seated on a big granny armchair she had conjured up, in front of the door, knitting a tiny pink pullover (probably for Mina), while Kit told the students everything they needed to know about spears. As it turned out, he was an excellent teacher, and aside from technique, had several stories and anecdotes to share about these weapons, and their history through the ages. He certainly knew how to catch his audience with witty jokes and, yes, Dru had to admit, his Herondale charm and good looks.
****
He wasn’t what Henry had expected. Not by a long shot.
First, he looked nothing like his sister Drusilla, whom Henry shared most classes with. He had gray eyes - the color of iron - where hers were blue-green, and his hair was crow dark where his sister’s were a deep, warm brown. He knew that the Blackthorn siblings were born from two different mothers, but didn’t he have a twin who died during the Cold Peace, and who shared Drusilla’s traits? He had been too young to fight at the time but Henry had seen Julian Blackthorn on a big screen in Idris right before the battle of the Imperishable Fields and he definitely looked like his sister.
To be honest, when the rumour had spread that the best Centurion of his generation - and the creator of several groundbreaking inventions - had finally decided to make an appearance at the Academy, Henry had imagined a crazy inventor wearing oversized safety goggles and a dusty lab coat. Obviously not some Adonis, who looked like he belonged more on a runway than in a library or a lab.
Second, he was more than a little surprised to discover that he was shy and reserved, for a Blackthorn that was. His rigid stance and the way he kept stroking the pendant tied around his neck, to quote only a few tells, betrayed how nervous he was. The whole character was a mystery to him. If he had his reputation - hell, if he had his looks - Henry would probably be parading around like a peacock.
“I am curious. So we are going to start with a question,” the teacher said, his expression bemused and his gaze fixed above the students’ heads toward the far end corner of the room. Most of the time, Henry had noticed, it looked like he wasn’t really addressing them. “Why do you want to become Centurions?”
Several voices erupted at the same time, and he flinched, before lifting a halting hand. “Please. Speak when you are granted permission to.”
The voices subsided and several students raised their hands instead, including Henry.
“Gillian?” He asked as his gaze flickered to her. Henry realized that he never looked anyone directly in the eye.
“Because I want to study faerie lore, the real deal, not the load of crap they teach you at the Academy,” she said smugly, and most students sniggered approvingly.
The Centurion’s lips twitched but he nodded in acknowledgement.
“Henry?”
“Because we get to wear that hot uniform,” he replied, giving the Blackthorn teacher a slow once over.
There was a collective roar of laughter in the classroom. The Centurion just nodded, straight-faced, as if it was as good an answer as any. Henry realized that he was starting to like him.
“Shut up, Henry.” Her Highness Amber Cartwright said as she entered the class. She shooed a student from his seat in the front row and sat there. “I am sorry for being late, Professor Blackthorn,” she said in a sultry voice, as she crossed her long legs in an exaggerated gesture.
The teacher spared her a brief glance. Henry braced himself for the double take - everyone, boys and girls alike, did a double take upon beholding Amber for the first time - but... nothing. The Centurion’s face remained impassive. Moving on. There is definitely something off with him, Henry thought. He is either half-blind and not wearing his binoculars or one fucking hundred percent gay.
“Call me Tiberius. I believe we are all around the same age.”
Amber beamed, her usual scowling face alight. “Okay. Tiberius,” she said, her voice caressing his name.
“And you are…?”
“Amber Grace Cartwright,” she said proudly, as she brushed her fingers through her blond hair.
Tiberius moved to his desk and furrowed his brows as his gray eyes scanned the paper lying there.
“You are not on my list.”
Amber’s face fell a little. “I know, I did not initially register for these training sessions, but Talib agreed to give me his spot. You see, I changed my mind and I really really want to become a Centurion someday.” Henry wondered how she had managed to convince Talib. Only the twenty most promising students - among those interested in becoming Centurions, and Amber had never expressed such an interest - were allowed to follow the course and there was a waiting list.
The teacher just lifted a dark eyebrow. “Oh. Okay.” They all waited as he sat at his desk and started scribbling on the paper, dark curls falling over his face as he bent his head. He was nothing if not meticulous. At the start of the class, he had asked, one by one, each student’s name. Henry had the feeling he had memorized all twenty of them. “Xian?” He asked without looking up.
The girl’s eyes widened and she whipped her head right and left, wondering whether he really was addressing her. As if there was another Xian in the classroom.
“Yes, Pro- Tiberius?”
“You don’t need to pass that folded paper on to your friend Barbara, I can provide the answer to your question.”
“Oh.” She flushed a deep red, and hastily crumpled the paper that she had been clutching under the table. Henry wondered what the message had been about.
“The answer is no. I don’t provide my personal number to students, but if you want to communicate with me, you may either send a fire message or a letter to my attention at the Scholomance, depending on the urgency of the matter.”
His tone was even, his face serious, as if he hadn’t meant to humiliate the girl, but simply state a fact. A low chatter erupted in the class, students casting worried glances at each other. Henry wondered himself how the Centurion had managed to read Xian’s paper when he was seated at the desk in front of the class, a few feet from her. The only one who didn’t seem troubled by that was Amber, who turned to glare at her friend. Xian stuck her tongue out in turn. Oh, Henry thought. Let the Hunger Games begin.
****
After a short recess, the students had another hour of training with Kit.
“As you well know, Shadowhunters use Runes to heal faster when they are injured in battle. Sometimes, it’s all that you need. But other times, a wound needs to be tended before an Iratze is applied. For instance, if you have foreign bodies in your wounds, you have to take them out before using your stele. Except, of course, when it would do much more harm to retrieve them, for instance if it's an arrow. Also, and although you should carry a stele with you at all times, situations may occur when you are without them. Finally, although we have a stronger constitution and heal faster, us Shadowhunters are humans, and we suffer the same diseases as mundanes. We can faint. We can die of a heart attack. We can die of blood loss following a car crash. Therefore, it’s important - and Catarina shares my view on this - to train you in first aid.” A crooked smile lit up his gorgeous face, his blue eyes glinting mischievously. “So who wants to be my dummy?”
All students - save for Dru - raised their hands eagerly. Brianna actually elbowed the girl next to her so she would put her own hand down.
“Drusilla Blackthorn,” Kit announced, with a smirk on his face.
Dru rolled her eyes and came to stand next to him.
“I think it’s more efficient to work on the basis of real-life situations’ simulations. So, what happened to my dummy in this scenario?”
“She fainted!” A student said.
Several students giggled.
“Okay,” Kit said, then looked over expectantly at Dru.
She rolled her eyes again and mimed fainting. As she lay still on the floor, she wondered if he would consider them even after the demonstration or continue to make her pay for the trick she had pulled earlier that day.
Kit knelt next to her.
“Is she conscious or unconscious?” He asked.
“Unconscious!” Another student said.
“Dru, close your eyes,” he said. She did as requested, letting out a deep sigh. “Okay, so how do you check whether or not someone is unconscious?” He asked, and she felt his fingers brush her hand, then he pinched her. She swallowed a swear word.
“Dummy? Dummy? Can you hear me? If you can hear me, blink or move your fingers. No answer. So you can assume she’s unconscious. Next step: you have to check if she breathes.”
She felt Kit’s fingers gently cupping her chin and forehead and tilting her head backwards. He pulled her lips open. “Check the airway first. If the throat is clear…” His hair tickled her face, and the Blackthorn locket grazed her jawline, as Kit leaned over to put his ear directly above her mouth. “See what I am doing? I am checking for a breathing sound while observing the rise and fall of her chest. So, tell me, is she breathing?”
“No,” a student said. Dru recognized Brianna’s voice. You will pay for this, roomie, Dru thought.
“Okay.” Dru realized Kit’s voice trembled a bit. She opened her eyes and saw the conflict in his gaze. What was the matter? “If you are with someone else, that person must go fetch a defibrillator that’s now in every patrol car. If you are alone, you can’t leave the patient so you must call for help. Do not - and I repeat - do not leave your patient’s side to do that. You must practice CPR at once.”
Realization dawned on Dru. Oh, bugger.
“In a real-life situation,” Kit said, drawing the words out. “You should… take your patient’s shirt off or - more accurately - rip it open.” He flinched as he said the last words, but swiftly regained his composure. She had to give him credit for his professionalism. “You must give chest compressions on bare skin. In our case though…”
Dru smirked. “Didn’t think it through, did you?” She whispered to Kit. Seeing his look of dismay, witnessing him trip over himself, was surprisingly satisfying, and if there was something Dru never missed, it was an opportunity to play a prank. Especially when she had been the intended victim of the stunt. She just couldn’t resist. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, and she became reckless. Act first think later became her course of action.
“That’s fine”, she said out loud as she sat up. She pulled the top of her gear off before lying back, wearing only her bra above her gear pants.
There were a few gasps in the crowd. Kit gulped.
“First of all, make sure your patient is lying on her back on a firm, dry surface. If there is blood, move the body away from it. I understand Catarina already taught you how to deal with hemorrhage.”
A few students mumbled a confirmation.
“You should push on the chest at a rate of 100 to 120 compressions per minute, which corresponds to the beat of several songs you can use to help you maintain the proper tempo.” He fiddled with his phone and the sound of “Stayin’ Alive” by the Bee Gees started playing.
Dru snorted. Kit was barely looking at her as he plowed on.
“Position your hands above your patient’s chest, like this. Interlock fingers. Then, give chest compressions. Like this.”
Dru tried to hide a smile. Kit’s palm was sweaty against her bare skin. He was flushing a deep red, his face a mask of embarrassment. Punk’d, she thought. Had he known he would be giving chest compressions to Dru - that he considered like a little sister - he would have thought twice about using her as a dummy.
He stopped abruptly, after thirty compressions. “Okay, we are… going to stop here for today.”
“What about the rescue breath?”
“I’ll show you next time,” he choked, as he stood and almost tripped on his feet scouting back. It seemed like he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.
“Does… anyone have any questions on CPR before we move to another exercize?”
“Yeah,” Talib raised his hand. Shit. Not him, Dru thought. What the hell was he doing here anyway, wasn’t he supposed to follow the Scholomance training course?
Kit nodded to him.
“Is that the Blackthorn locket you are wearing?”
Kit’s mouth dropped open. Dru tensed. She knew that Ty had asked that they keep their relationship a secret. Only family and very close friends were in the know. Not because Ty was ashamed, far from it. But because, as a Centurion, he was entrusted with all missions related to the First Heir, and that would change as soon as the Scholomance found out how involved Ty was with the subject of his investigations. Ty didn’t trust anyone else with these missions, so he had begged Helen and Aline not to tell the Penhallows about Kit and him, even though the identity of the First Heir remained a secret to most. One could never be too cautious.
Watching his face fall, the glint of panic in his azur eyes, Dru started to feel really bad for the Herondale boy. She knew that if he had been allowed, he would have screamed his love for Ty at the top of his lungs, from the Academy’s roof. Instead, he lowered his gaze to his feet, swallowing hard.
“Yeah, it’s mine,” Dru blurted. “Seriously, Kit? I told you not to wear it at the Academy!”
Kit whipped his head up in surprise, his blue eyes wide and questioning. He looked like he was about to say something, but Dru wouldn’t give him a chance to deny. What was done was done. She whirled around and retreated to a corner of the training room, bowing her head in order to conceal the blush that had started creeping up her face.
****
“Do you know who founded the Scholomance?” The Centurion teacher asked.
Amber was the only one who raised her hand.
“Amber?”
“It was originally founded by an alliance between the Fair Folk and prominent Shadowhunter families.”
Most of the students gasped. Everyone turned a questioning look at Tiberius, whose lips quirked. “Correct. This is not common knowledge, to say the least. How have you learnt about it?”
“I read a lot and… I may have borrowed some of my brother’s notes. Cartwrights have been filling the ranks of Centurions for generations.”
“But…” Barbara said, looking confused. “I thought the whole purpose of the Scholomance was to investigate all Downworlders, especially faeries, since they are the Nephilim who possess the most extensive knowledge about them.”
“And where do you think the Centurions got their knowledge from?” Amber snapped.
“Why would the Nephilim create a school with Downworlders?” Xian interjected.
“About that,” Tiberius intervened. “The classification of faeries as Downworlders is not entirely accurate and has been challenged over the past few years. Contrary to general belief, some of the Fair Folk species do not have any demon blood. Maybe you’d like to carry on, Miss Cartwright.”
Amber pursued, with a smug look on her face.
“As the story goes, not long after the creation of the Nephilim, the Angel warriors and the Fair Folk made an alliance to protect the Earth from demon invasion. They shared their knowledge - the fey teaching the Nephilim how to use magic in the school they created together, a sort of real life Hogwarts - and even… consorted. After all, the biggest problem that the fey have been facing in the past centuries is the thinning of their blood. Why not mix it with that of Raziel’s chosen warriors? Ultimately, a union was arranged between the Faerie King and a member of a highly respected and powerful Nephilim family. Not all fairies were happy with the union and there was a secession. The Faerie lands were split between two courts from then on. The Unseelie court, choosing to acknowledge a Nephilim queen, considering her as part of the fey royal family, ara nothlir, and the Seelie court, refusing the Angel warriors’ influence.”
She paused to watch the effect of her words on the wide-eyed students.
“The Nephilim queen was not immortal but the King used his magic to stretch out her years. Although they were happy, they had to rule in troubled times. The strong divergence in traits, opinions and customs between the Fair Folk and Shadowhunters soon drew them apart. Raziel’s warriors criticized the fey for being cunning and strongly disapproved of the tricks they played on mundanes and the creation of changelings. Faeries thought Shadowhunters to be ruthless, overbearing and contemptuous.
The Unseelie king’s death - it came as a shock, everyone thought the mortal Nephilim queen was bound to die before him - without any heir being born from their union, was a fatal blow to the alliance. Unseelie laws were clear, the queen dowager no longer held any claim to the throne - the full fey blooded prince Arawn succeeded to his father - and she hid in Faerie under the protection of a few Nephilim who swore to protect her. They could easily be distinguished from the red caps as they wore black cloaks identifying them as Angel warriors. They were not sanctioned by the Clave though, which preferred to sever all ties to the Fair Folk. With the magic they had learnt from the fey, these protectors created an enchanted wall of thorns surrounding the tower where the Shadowhunter queen and her family lay low for hundreds of years.
When an heir was born from the union of the Seelie Queen and Unseelie King, most Nephilim took it as the last stroke of the Fair Folk’s betrayal. It didn’t help that there were whispers about a prophecy stating that the world would fall to shadow under the First Heir’s ruling. So began the witch hunt, the primary target being the cursed descendant. That’s how Centurions began to use the knowledge they had collected from their former allies at the Scholomance against them.
The chase officially ceased when the disappearance of the First Heir was officially announced by the Unseelie Court and the tensions between the Nephilim and the fey eased until they finally made peace with the signing of the First Accords in 1872. The Scholomance was closed then, as a show of good faith that Downworlders and Shadowhunters were no longer at war.”
“What has become of the Nephilim queen’s family?” Henry blurted.
Amber turned to look at him. She was positively gloating.
“They had nothing to be blamed for, so the Clave as well as the Fair Folk let them be after the signing of the First Accords. After all, they were a very influential family to begin with. So, they are still among us.”
“Who are they?”
“Before King Arawn changed the Unseelie Court’s sigil, the symbol was that of a full crown…adorned with a rose, symbol of his father’s attachment to the Lady of Roses,” she said mysteriously.
“The Nephilim queen’s descendants are known as the Rosales,” Tiberius specified evenly.
A low chatter erupted and the words “Inquisitor”, “Diego” and “Cristina” were thrown around repeatedly. They all knew the Council kept a lot of secrets, but the fact that the current Inquisitor belonged to a family that had forged an alliance with the fey in the past, confirmed how little they really knew about Shadowhunter politics.
“And what about their protectors?” A voice suddenly raised from a corner of the classroom.
Amber turned to look at the Centurion who nodded imperceptibly.
“Easy,” she said. “They were released from their oath a long time ago but they have kept their Shadowhunter names. Some say the earlier generations had sharp, elven features due to their closeness to - and interbreeding with - the Fair Folk. They were black cloaked warriors guarding the queen’s family like thorns protecting the delicate rose from its predators. They called themselves the Black Thorns.”
As the students suddenly burst into commotion, Henry’s gaze focused on Tiberius, who stood straight like an arrow, his expression unfathomable. He had a feeling there was more to the story but, whatever it was, Henry knew he would have to swear the Centurion vows before being allowed to hear it.
****
Being a Shadowhunter had major downsides. No matter how hard you tried to shut yourself from your environment, your highly trained senses betrayed you by fulfilling their role like obedient little soldiers.
Dru had never better understood Ty’s need for headphones as she weaved a path in the main hall towards the exit - she wanted to crawl in her bed and hide there until at least the next morning - and tried to ignore the glares and angry whispers that followed her.
“Seriously? Christopher Herondale and Drusilla Blackthorn? It’s like some stupid chick flick where the hot jock hooks up with the weird geek.”
“He’s probably with her because she’s easy. Did you see her take her shirt off in the training room like it was no big deal?”
“Oh, come on, every girl does that here. We’re warriors, we undress to draw Runes on each other all the time. And how is it different from when we train in sports bras when it’s summer?” Well, Dru was relieved to hear at least some girls had her back...
“It’s different when you have a pair of breasts like hers.”
“Right. Tell me about it. Best boobs at the Academy.”
“Yeah, I would definitely hit that.”
“You’re kidding? That girl’s creepy, I would be afraid to be strangled in my sleep.”
“What does he see in her anyway? She has a pretty face, but she dresses like a Goth freak. And don’t get me started on the size of her thighs...”
Dru never allowed anyone to say a single bad thing about her family and friends. But where her own securities were concerned, she was like an open wound anyone could poke. Dru bit back tears as she hurried her footsteps. She needed air. Fresh air.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and whipped her head around. It was Brianna.
“Seriously, Dru? Why didn’t you just tell me before I made a fool of myself?”
“Brianna. I just gave him a necklace. I am not dating him or anything. He’s just a member of Livia’s Watch, that's all. Hence the locket.” Why had she not thought of that excuse earlier?
Brianna lifted her eyebrow dubiously. Dru felt her temper rising.
“Fine.” She snapped. “Believe me or not, I don't CARE.”
NNNNEEEEW YOOOORK. They both startled as the voice of Alicia Keys suddenly blazed through the main hall’s stone walls.
As one, all the students rushed outside to see where the noise came from. Brianna and Dru exchanged puzzled glances before following them wearily out of the wide double front doors.
Dru blinked and, when her eyes finally adjusted to the sunlight, tried to hide her shock as she took in the incongruous sight.
In the Academy’s front yard, a crowd had already started to gather in a circle around the main attraction, giving it a wide berth.
A splendid charcoal grey convertible car was parked at the center of it, as if it had appeared there by magic. "Empire State of Mind" by Jay-Z and Alicia Keys was playing full on from the vehicle’s sound system.
Leaning casually against the hood of the car with his arms crossed was the tall figure of Ash Morgenstern. His platinum blond hair was peeking out of a green beanie and he wore an elegant gray cashmere coat that made him look like a British gentleman.
In the back of her mind, several questions buzzed like little alarms. Was he not supposed to be under house arrest? What the hell was he thinking showing up in front of the Academy ? Where did he get the car anyway?
But foremost in her mind was Ash. It’s Ash. It’s really Ash. How gorgeous he was - even more so than she remembered - and how she had never felt more relieved to see anyone in her whole life. She had missed him, she realized with surprise.
Ash straightened up and gave Dru a crooked smile as soon as he caught sight of her.
She couldn’t help it, she ran to him and threw her arms around his slender neck, burying her face in his chest. He smelled of aftershave, a sophisticated fragrance of amber, sandalwood, mandarin and jasmine. Ash stiffened at first, obviously startled by her sudden display of affection, then relaxed and squeezed her tighter.
“If I had known I would receive such a warm welcome, I would have broken out of jail sooner,” he whispered in her ear.
She drew back and shook her head disapprovingly, though a grin was still plastered on her face.
“What on earth are you doing here, Ash?”
“I have come to rescue my Queen.”
“Rescue me? From what?”
“Food poisoning, of course. You told me it was awful here. I was in the neighborhood and it just so happens that I know a perfect French restaurant in Manhattan.”
“And so you decided to break out of your confinement and show up at the Academy in a flashy sports car?”
He shrugged. “I thought it would be a more inconspicuous way of traveling.”
“Inconspicuous? Really? As compared to what?”
He raised a silvery eyebrow. “Flapping my dark wings?”
“Where are you going with my sister?” Ty demanded with a frown as he marched towards them, his voice louder than usual, probably due to the headphones covering his ears.
“Manhattan. For dinner.”
“It’s not safe,” he said, then glanced at the vehicle. “Is that an Aston Martin DB9 GT Volante?”
“What’s not safe?” Ash asked. “My company? The car? The whole idea of a crazy night out?”
“All of the above,” Ty answered, his gray eyes like saucers, still fixed on the car.
“Oh, so now you care about where I go and who I am with?” Dru intervened.
Ty’s gaze snapped back to her, and his eyes crinkled in confusion.
“Of course I do. Why do you ask? Wait- Are you… angry with me?”
“Of course I am! I had to find out you were at the Academy by eavesdropping on fellow students!” She was grateful the music was loud and the observers far enough that they could not overhear their conversation.
Ty’s eyes widened and his jaw went slack. “But... But I wasn’t sure I was coming until this morning. I didn’t want to tell you before I was certain. I thought you would be happy to see me.”
“Yes, Ty, I am happy to see you. But I started at the Academy months ago, and you have only decided to show up today! We both know who convinced you, and it certainly wasn’t me.”
The look of hurt on Ty’s face almost made her regret her words. As if on cue, Kit suddenly appeared, coming from the opposite direction to where Ty was standing. Dru realized with a pang that they were purposefully avoiding being seen together and maintaining a safe distance between them.
“Hey guys, I think I missed the invitation to the party,” Kit said playfully, but Dru knew him and could sense that his heart wasn’t in it. He was just trying to ease the tension.
“You didn’t miss anything,” Dru replied sharply. “Ash and I were leaving.” Ty opened his mouth to object but she cut him. “And you, Ty, do not get to tell me what to do.”
“Where your safety is concerned, I do,” Ty snapped back, red starting to creep up his white neck. His hands were now fluttering at his sides.
“If you’re worried about her safety, Ty, why don’t you come with us?” Ash offered in peace. “You too, Kit. Raziel knows we all need to… let off steam.” He looked like he was holding in a laugh and Dru wondered whether she was missing a private joke.
Ty’s gaze flickered to Kit then, and their eyes met for a brief second before they both hastily looked away. They were clearly blushing now, Ty nervously stroking his heron pendant and Kit thrusting his hands in his pockets and staring at his feet.
“I can’t,” Kit said, kicking a pebble. “I have to stay here where I am protected. Catarina and my parents will kill me if they know I left the Academy’s grounds.”
Ash raised an eyebrow. “Tell me, Kit. Who would you rather have as bodyguards? Me and the badass Blackthorn siblings?” He said, gesturing at their little group. “Oooor… these frightened little squirrels posing as Academy students?” He pointed toward the crowd of students who were still gaping at him. And the car. But mostly at Ash.
“I guess you have a point,” Kit conceded.
“Okay,” Ty answered hesitantly, looking away.
“Then jump in, Angel warriors,” Ash said as he opened the door for Dru. She ignored it, and instead, grabbed the edge of the back door to jump inside and landed on the front passenger seat. “What? I have always wanted to do that!” She told him when he lifted his eyebrow at her. Ash laughed and shook his head as he rounded the car to take the driver’s seat. Kit and Ty crammed in the back - the space had definitely not been designed to hold two full-grown Shadowhunters - and immediately stared out the car, pointedly avoiding looking at each other.
Ash put the Aston Martin in gear, as the students parted to let them through. The engine's roar was deafening, almost drowning the sound of the music still blasting from the sound system. Dru felt exhilarated, gusts of wind carrying away all her resentment and worries as they blew her hair. Everything was perfect… save perhaps for one thing.
“Ash,” she called over the noise. “Can you turn the music down?”
He threw her a puzzled look, his hands tightening on the wheel.
“Why? I thought you’d like it. We are in New York after all.”
“It’s not my hometown,” she observed, winking at him.
He grinned as he fiddled with the dashboard and suddenly 2 PAC's "California Love" was booming full volume.
“Better?” He asked.
Her answering smile was so wide it almost hurt her cheeks.
“Not just better. Perfect.”
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lov3nerdstuff · 4 years ago
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Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.21}
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*Severus Snape x OC*
Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.
General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing
Words: 5.8k
Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!
______________________________
"Tell me again." Cas demanded as she snatched a piece of bacon off Simon's plate, while keeping her piercing gaze fixed on Robin. "Why are you wearing way fancier clothes than normal?"
"I told you that I'm not telling you, and that's not going to change no matter how many times you ask." Robin shrugged, then subtly moved her own bacon over to Simon to compensate for his loss. The boy thanked her with a small smile, but obviously didn't dare to interrupt the girls' conversation with words. So Robin looked back to Cas. "You'll just have to wait and see like everyone else. Showing some patience will do you good."
"I do have a suspicion." Jorien smirked quietly while Cas just pouted, and Robin quirked an eyebrow at her, which however didn't bother the girl at all. "You don't have to glare at me, I didn't plan on telling anyone."
"Good." Robin replied in an equally quiet tone, but she couldn't help the feeling that Jorien knew a lot more than she let on. Even more than she should know, perhaps. Oh well… only time could confirm that.
"I honestly can't believe that Professor Snape is going to do our dancing class!" Cas finally got over herself and continued with her usual morning-ramble that never failed to entertain at least half of the table they were residing at that day. "I mean, I did watch him while he was dancing with Robin last year, but I honestly can't imagine how he's going to cope with people having to touch him. Melissa and I saw how Professor Sprout put her hand on his arm last week while deep in conversation, and he literally flinched away before giving her a death glare. If you ask me, that man has some serious problems."
"Who do you think he's going to force to dance with him?" Gideon asked with a humoured huff, and Robin suddenly found herself glad that she never spoke much during meals. That way at least nobody thought her oddly quiet on the issue.
"Oh gods, I have no idea." Cas rolled her eyes exaggeratedly and then sighed. "I'm bloody curious nonetheless. I literally can't imagine him actually dancing today in the first place, and hadn't I seen it before, I promise you I would be entirely convinced that he can't dance at all."
"I'm pretty sure the entire school watched him dancing at last year's ball… Who would've thought that was ever in the realm of possibility." Gideon shrugged, then glanced at Robin. "Say, why did you even agree to dance with our very own dungeon bat? I think you might just be the only one who ever did."
Robin thought for a second about telling them that she had been the one to ask him in the first place, but that wouldn't really fit in with his 'scary professor' image and she wouldn't dare scraping at that. So she settled for a different truth, which came out a bit more harshly than intended. "I will gladly dance with him again any time, if that's what you're wondering about, and I would choose him over any of the imbeciles who think it necessary to insult him to flatter their own meek egos. I haven't ever had a better partner, and it was I who was lucky to have that dance indeed, so until you can keep up with that, you'd better be keeping your noses in your own business."
The group was quiet for a moment, while everyone was obviously feeling scolded by Robin's words, but she didn't bother rectifying her intentions. Should they know that she didn't appreciate it when they spoke badly of Snape, or subjected themselves to pathetic gossip and rumour. The only one who looked rather amused by the entire thing was Jorien, which in return put fuel to Robin's belief that the girl knew more than her peers.
"So, what do you think Lisa is going to wear to the ball, huh? Not that hideous thing she showed us in the magazines, hopefully…" Cas finally broke the silence, changing the topic as easily as if the awkwardness before hadn't happened at all, and when everyone engaged in cheerful chatting again, Robin was honestly glad for the average student's shallow approach to conversation. Sometimes, it truly was a gift that other people didn't overthink quite as much as she did herself.
Breakfast went by quickly from there on, without any more disconcerting questions or topics other than the ordinary kind, and once the meal was officially over, the great hall became increasingly more vacant. When the boys finally went to leave, Robin got up as well, but instead of accompanying them to the exit, she made her way to the head table unseen by those whose eye she was trying to avoid, and then spent the next few minutes discussing the terms of their bullshit bingo with Snape. They intentionally engaged in this topic of conversation rather than discussing something of actual importance, such as the impending dancing instruction, for that would have reminded both of them of the uncomfortable truth that by lunch, the entire school would likely be talking about this. About them, dancing. Last night, neither of them really had thought about the consequences of having to hide just how close they were while being in the center of public display like this, but then again, it didn't change a thing now that they were suddenly hyper aware of all the very real students around them. Students who were taking more and more interest in the two black-clad figures standing where once the head table had been even after everyone else was gone. Robin's face was set in calm neutrality as always, just like Snape wore his usual scowl, but when they looked at each other once more for a brief moment of reassurance, Robin knew that they both had made their decision, and now they would go through with it. Happily, and without a hint of regret whatsoever. She almost would've smiled to herself when she turned back towards the students ahead of them, and mirrored his stance with her arms crossed behind her back while they watched the dunderheads in silence. Public display or not, this would be over soon, and she would enjoy it as good as possible.
When the hall was finally cleared of tables and seats, and it was just the fourth year Slytherins on one side and the Ravenclaws on the other, all it took was for Snape to move a few steps towards the middle of the hall for everyone to fall silent within seconds. The sheer power he held over people with his mere presence still gave Robin chills, but unlike the effect he had on everyone else in the room, those chills were very much pleasant ones for her. The neutrality on her face stayed set in stone nonetheless, and for a while she merely listened to him explaining the common ordeal much like McGonagall had, but with one subtle difference. She had explained dancing as a cultural custom, a form of etiquette much like properly using one's cutlery, with a clear focus on getting the movements right and sustaining a sense of elegance. Snape however had a bit of a different understanding of what it meant to dance, and Robin couldn't help being mesmerized by the deeper meaning behind his not-quite-so shallow explanation; to him, dancing obviously was an art. It was like a dialogue without words, a mutual understanding of giving and taking with equal care and attention. A game of control and surrender, and yet of equality and trust. Foremost, it was all about one's partner, and not about upholding an outside appearance. That perhaps was the only part he worded quite as directly as Robin knew he meant it, but she had no idea how much of this actually got through to the students. Then again, what wasn't there to understand about the delicacy of a swift and smooth waltz? Going by the looks on the students' faces, obviously a lot.
After the unintentional poetry that seemed entirely wasted on most people currently present, Snape went on to explain the actual dance. Six basic steps, no more and no less, but Robin didn't particularly listen to that part for more than the constant flow of his voice. Instead, she sought out Cas and Jorien in the group of Slytherins, and as her eyes traveled over the students, she found herself surprised by just how many of the faces she had seen before. The vast majority of the fourth years was almost familiar to her at this point, and the rest at least somewhat recognizable. She'd never realized that she'd tutored almost all of them before. But what were their names again…? Good gods, her respect for her teachers grew an ineffable amount for memorizing hundreds upon hundreds of names like it was nothing. How did they do that anyway?
Lost in thought and silent question to herself, she missed the rousing of whispers around the room, the glances thrown at her, and was only drawn out of her head when Snape's voice suddenly sounded from right next to her.
"It is time." He said almost under his breath, in a soft tone that would very well betray his indifferent expression if anyone else would have heard but Robin. Then he offered a hand to her in a simple and silent question, which brought the faintest smile to Robin's lips in return. Of course he wouldn't actually ask, at least not with about fifty pairs of eyes fixed on them quite so intently.
"They're all staring at us…" She breathed with a hint of a smile, then placed her hand in his and ignored the surge of electricity that ran up her arm upon the brush of skin against skin. "Well, at least you have their fullest attention now."
"We do." He corrected quietly as he led her back to the middle of the hall, under the careful watch and quiet commentary of their students, before stopping short and drawing her closer to himself. Robin's hands found their destined places without conscious thought while Snape's did the same, and while she wanted to sigh at the gentle warmth of his palm pressing against her back, she also wanted to smile when he almost leaned into her touch in return. It wasn't a visible reaction, obviously, and neither did she give one herself, but rather a common feeling that fell over them like a soothing blanket of safety and belonging. Her thoughts didn't linger however when a soft music started playing out of nowhere as soon as they had found their positions, and with the easy grace that was to be expected of a proper waltz, they started moving through the wide space of the hall.
It really was quite like he had explained, a wordless dialogue spoken entirely with the eyes in a lingering gaze, and a fixed focus solemnly on each other in the shared movements of the dance. Before long Robin couldn't help smiling a little more brightly than her facade of neutrality could cover up for, but she honestly couldn't care less about it. How was she supposed to hide both her feelings for Snape AND the joy of dancing with him? Impossible. Thus, as it seemed, showing a bit of the lesser evil was the best she could do, and if she looked closely enough, he seemed to be fighting a similar war within himself.
It was much too soon when the musical piece floated to an end on its last notes, and they came to a stand in the middle of the room, which oddly enough had remained quite silent throughout the whole endeavour. Robin's chest was heaving ever so slightly –it had been a while since she'd gotten so much exercise– and she had trouble tearing her eyes away from his, even after the broken second it took her to remember the many students gawking at them. Her smile dimmed down the remaining bit back into neutral territory, she focused on calming her breathing, and finally also took a step backwards to an appropriate distance to her partner. The roaring fire inside of her however didn't dim down in the least, and as she held his gaze for a moment longer, she had no doubt he got a clear view of just that in her eyes. It made the corners of her lips quirk up for a fraction of a second, which elicited much the same reaction from him for an even shorter moment, before he finally turned back towards the students in complete professor mode and with the usual grandeur and billowing robes. Instead of smiling at his antics like she wanted to, Robin merely crossed her arms behind her back with his mirrored signature indifference painted on her face and thought about the last five minutes.
All in all, they had done remarkably well; to the students, it had been nothing but a factual demonstration of a dance, that much she could read on their faces now. It was odd, really, and oh so typical that all of Snape's and even her own microexpressions had gone unnoticed by the majority of students at least. If it hadn't, there surely would be more glances and whispers now. Instead, most of the students simply looked either bored or eager to start practicing themselves, and that really was as good an outcome as she could've hoped for. No one suspected a thing. Brilliant!
Snape briefly gave a few more instructions for the following practice session, effectively threatening everyone to stay in line, and while the students then more or less reluctantly paired up to try their luck, he came to stand next to Robin once again.
"Thank you for a perfect dance." His voice took on the same quiet tone as before, and Robin didn't miss the subtle brush of his arm against her shoulder as he moved past her. She had to smile before she could help it, while her poor pathetic heart skipped more than just one beat.
"Anytime." She breathed in return, and after the second it took her to get a grip on herself now again, they both went on to do just as planned; instructing the dunderheads in the art of dancing, and playing their little game of slightly modified bullshit bingo on the side.
It really was quite a blessing that McGonagall had given them the shorter time frame before lunch, for in no time at all it was nearing noon, and the lesson came to an end when the tables had to be put back into place for the meal. Funnily enough, the students' practice had been more than successful, and in comparison to Robin's memories, the young Slytherins and Ravenclaws had done a whole lot better now than the mixed Slytherin and Gryffindor students under McGonagall's tutelage back then. While the students settled down at the tables that were put back into place, Robin told Snape about her observation –not without a sense of pride, admittedly– and he seemed more than pleased with her words as well. Not that he would ever admit that much while in public, but Robin could tell by the not-smirk and the fairly smug expression he gave McGonagall when she showed up for lunch entirely oblivious to the conversation that had taken place seconds before. That, and he had won at their game by far, which also served to brighten his mood enough to actually show. Yes, for a more or less spontaneous dancing lesson on a gloomy Saturday morning, they really had done their very best, and had –against all odds– had quite a bit of fun on the side.
When the other professors started appearing at the head table in a shocking eagerness not for the impending lunch but for the hottest gossip about the recent dancing class, Robin took it as her cue to leave. She did feel sorry to leave Snape for their curiosity to prey on, but there was nothing she could do other than giving him an encouraging smile and say 'laters' in the hopes he would know that he still had their afternoon plans which he could look forward to. If he was remotely as happy about them as she was, that is. But then again, finishing their experimental potion and taking a walk in the snow were rather lovely prospects indeed.
With an almost defeated sigh, Robin finally made for the Ravenclaw table where Jorien and Cas had already taken a seat and were now chatting (or rather bickering) away like always.
"Hey guys… how'd you like the dancing?" She asked as she flopped down on the bench next to Jorien, for the space next to Cas was obviously reserved for the boys who had yet to appear. "Both of you did quite well, actually, if you'd fancy to hear my opinion on it."
The girls fell silent in but a second, and then continued to stare at Robin for a moment in an unspoken agreement that made her uneasy. Had she said something wrong? It was just supposed to be a compliment…
"Are we really doing this?" Cas asked in return, ignoring the previous question entirely.
"Yes we are." Jorien chuckled. "It's Robin, what did you expect?"
"Nothing but this, actually."
"Right?!"
"Guys!" Robin protested with a frown, and alternating glances between both of them. "What's going on? Explain."
"Did you know that you smiled while dancing with Snape?" Cas asked with a smug smile of her own. "Not enough for anyone else to take special notice of, obviously, but we've known you and your subtlety for years now. It was hard to miss that you actually smiled for once."
"And?" Robin raised an eyebrow at her in return, and she had a vague feeling where this conversation was going. Not good.
"You never smile." Cas replied with a huff in amusement. "You smirk, or sneer, but you never smile."
"Of course I smile! Quite often even." She defended herself immediately, but as she ran through her memories of instances where she'd knowingly smiled, she came to realize that the majority if not all of them had been in the sole company of one potions professor. Oh dear.
"You don't, Robin. Hardly ever, and even then it's not like an actual happy smile. Nor is it sincere like this one." Jorien added in a bit more mildly, but no less amused. "It was nice to see what you look like when you truly enjoy yourself."
The heat crept up and along Robin's neck and onto her cheeks in an instant, while the churning of her stomach grew a bit too strong to merely indicate a timely desire for lunch. Bloody hell, she hadn't really thought about how the girls might perceive the situation… they did know her a lot better than any of the other students indeed, and that might very well lead to some unforeseen consequences. It already had, obviously. Damnit.
"Well, and so what? I did enjoy myself a lot while dancing, yes. I already told you during breakfast that he's the best partner I've ever had, so logically I do enjoy dancing with him. Otherwise I'd hardly have volunteered to help him with the lesson." She tried to shrug it off like she often did when she didn't want to talk about an issue. Playing things down, and distracting the opponents by giving small chunks of the truth on other areas. "He's my friend, of course I'd help him with the class. Especially when McGonagall just asked him to do it out of the blue last night."
"Oh, so he's your friend now, huh?" Cas grinned, and Jorien smacked her in the shoulder across the table, much to the blond girl's irritation. "What, I didn't say anything wrong! Before now, Robin always rather made a point of it that they're just working together."
"It's not supposed to become known that we're friends, alright? It might give people the wrong impressions, so keep your voices down, yes?" Robin gave both girls a pointed look, and they reluctantly nodded in agreement. "So, perhaps I did smile while dancing with him. I like him, and I like dancing with him. Is there an issue with that?"
"No!" Cas replied in an instant, with rising eyebrows and an apologetic expression. "Of course not, rather on the contrary!"
Robin gave her a questioning frown in return, but before she could make an attempt to ask just what she meant by that, Jorien jumped in.
"What Cas means is that it's nice to know that you two are close to each other." She said with a diplomatic expression, then however with a smirk at Robin. "And it certainly explains why the years of trying to get you to date someone were entirely wasted."
"I don't see how that correlates." Robin replied flatly, with a too perfect neutral facade to actually be indifferent, and both younger girls snorted in an instant.
"Oh come on!" Cas was back at grinning widely, but at least she kept her voice down like she'd been asked to. "You might be able to fool everyone else, but you can't tell us that you're not totally crushing on him!"
"Ballroom dancing is the most open expression of sexuality the past times had to offer, and you two are honestly the perfect example of it. Quite rude of you though, to lie when we asked you about your crushes on your birthday…" Jorien added in with a smirk and one raised eyebrow that reminded Robin too much of herself. "Because whatever this is between you and him, it's certainly been going on for a lot longer than that."
"I didn't lie." Robin defended herself quietly. She was slowly running out of ideas for how to get out of this situation without anyone taking too much damage in the process. "I never lie. You guys know that."
"I still don't believe you. You're extremely subtle about it, I'll give you that, but you definitely act differently around him than with anybody else I've ever seen you with." Cas stated it as a matter of fact that didn't leave any room for Robin to effectively protest while sticking to the truth. "I don't remotely understand why, and it really is quite weird to think about, but you are definitely attracted to him. Why don't you just admit to what we already know anyway?"
"I do not have a crush, okay?!" Robin's patience was wearing thinner and thinner the more students filed into the room who might overhear the conversation. It was bad enough that her roommates had caught onto matters; she didn't need the rest of the school to know as well. Least of all the person in discussion. "Just leave it be."
"I really don't know why you're being so defensive about it." Cas rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "In an odd way it's really kinda cute. You and him, I mean. You're pretty similar to each other. The more I think about it, the more I ship it."
"I don't even want to know what that means, but will you please just shut up about it now?" Robin groaned under her breath and resisted the temptation to rest her face in her hands in despair. That would draw way too much unwanted attention to her now. "You're making a fool of yourself."
"To be honest, I also think you're a good match." Jorien shrugged, but her words were spoken in all honesty no less. "Definitely uncommon, but rather sweet indeed. I've always wondered who on earth might be able to keep up with you, but I guess I've been too blind to see the answer right in front of me."
"I cannot believe you two!" Robin scoffed in sincere discomfort now. Why on earth did they have to torture her like that, after already finding out a secret she'd been hiding perfectly well for over four bloody years?! "You really are being ridiculous, just listen to yourselves. What on earth would he want with me, huh? Remember who you are talking about; it's a miracle that he deems me bearable enough to be my friend in the first place."
"So you do admit to having a crush on him then?"
"Stop. It. Now." Robin hissed at Cas with a glare that made the girl squirm in her seat. "I do not have a crush on anyone, and if you little chits refuse to stop nagging me about it, you will have to find yourselves a new tutor who puts up with your nonsense."
Yes, lashing out at them wasn't really the fairest thing to do, Robin was well aware of that. But she was hurt and annoyed and honestly, they would have forgotten about it by dinnertime already anyway. She just couldn't take any more tinder to the stupid flame of hope that was just roaring back to life now, especially not after last night. She had to trample and suffocate it right in this instant, before she would burn herself and quite possibly drag some collateral right down into the depth of destruction with her. So yes, it was an overreaction to their usual teenage behaviour, but it was a necessary overreaction to keep at least part of her sanity intact.
"I understand." Jorien was the first to speak up for once, and the smile and ease on her face made way for seriousness. "I understand that we were wrong about assuming that you have a crush on him; he's only your best friend, and you don't crush on your best friend. After all, you told us that much on your birthday already, and you don't ever lie."
"Yes! Thank you!" Robin rolled her eyes at her own scoff, but somehow the girl's words only now sunk in when it was too late already.
"Huh… so that's why you never told us who your best friend was. I admit, it all makes an odd amount of sense now that the two pieces become one." Jorien said with a surprised little huff, but Robin only took notice of how her own body became dead weight with a start. Her thoughts were tumbling over each other in panic and confusion and the growing urge to run, while Cas merely frowned at her in confusion. The hall was too warm all of a sudden, and void of air to breathe.
"You tricked me." Robin's lips formed the words without her conscious intention. "If I wasn't quite so furious about it, I would be proud."
"Well, I just put the pieces together." Jorien replied with an almost triumphant half smile. "And it's not like you were ever going to tell us. But I just had to know."
"Of course you did." Robin's voice came out cold and sharp and still somewhat indifferent, for now the pain and anger were gone with a start. She just felt numb, and perhaps a little betrayed. No, actually a lot.
"So… what?" Cas frowned at both of them in confusion. "Who's who now? What the hell are you talking about?"
"I'm sure Jorien will explain it to you. She's got it all figured out now, doesn't she…" Robin replied coldly and tried to get up from the bench at last, to get out of this situation even at the cost of her own lunch, but a surprisingly strong grip held her down. Damn her short legs, really… why on earth did a fifteen year old have to be taller than her?
"Don't go… please, I'm sorry." Jorien said, and at least she sounded sincerely apologetic as she removed her hand from Robin's arms. "I didn't mean to upset you. Really. I just… I had to know if I was right."
Something in Robin deflated at the girl's sad words and pale blue eyes, and she slumped back down in her seat with a sigh. Damn her own empathy… damn the parts of herself she kept seeing in her. She just wanted to be mad in peace, but with Jorien apologising and Cas entirely confused, she found that she could uphold neither the numbness nor the anger.
"Sometimes being right isn't as nice as it seems." Robin finally said, but she didn't look at Jorien even once while doing so. "I'd gladly be wrong sometimes just to spare people the pain of truth."
"I didn't consider that."
"I know. Try to think about the reasons people keep things to themselves the next time you figure out their personal matters." She sighed, and while Jorien nodded, Robin turned to Cas. "And you… perhaps it'll help you to know that I only have and ever had one friend who isn't currently a student here."
"I still don't get it." Cas frowned with a rather helpless expression, and while Robin just sighed in defeat again, Jorien climbed over the still empty table in sheer annoyance, then grabbed her friend by the tie and aggressively whispered something in her ear that made her eyes go wide. So much for secrets, really… at least she was hissing quietly.
"So…" Cas started, with a weary and yet astonished expression, while Jorien climbed back over the table into her own seat. "You didn't lie after all. You really don't just have a crush on him…"
"I'm not saying a single word more on the matter." Robin shut her straight back down and finally got a grip on her emotions, forcing them all into submission and behind the neutrality. It didn't actually matter that they knew; they had kept quiet about her secrets before, and they would do it again now. They knew better than to mess with her, didn't they?
"You don't have to say anything." Jorien replied with a sigh, as she flopped back down in her seat. "But I think you're wrong if you think that he doesn't feel the same way about you. If he knows it or not."
"Yeah, just take the way he looks at you…" Cas added, while Robin kept on pretending to ignore both of them. "Like you're the answer to the universe's greatest questions nobody but him yet dared to ask."
"Cas! That's an oddly fitting description for the complexity of the issue, I'm thoroughly impressed!" Jorien smiled at her friend with an incredulous frown; obviously Robin wasn't the only one surprised by Cas' sudden string of poetic wisdom.
"Oh, those are Simon's words actually." Cas shrugged easily. "He's said a few times how S-... someone always looks at Robin like that, but I always dismissed it as him trying to be funny. Well, until I saw it for myself today. And he is SO right about it, he'll love that."
"You are not telling Simon about any of this." Robin snapped before she could help it. Damn her fast mouth, honestly, but this was not going anywhere else from here!
"But-..."
"No."
"He's-..."
"No."
"Fine." Cas rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, then leaned forward onto her arms that she had crossed on the tabletop. "But honestly Robin, you spend every day and night with him, he lets you use his classroom and his lab and he willingly goes on all those weird excursions with you… I doubt that there's anything he wouldn't do for you, now that I think about it."
"You probably have him all wrapped around your finger. You're just too oblivious or too deep in denial to see it." Jorien added with a smirk a mere second later, and Cas nodded in agreement.
"I wish to extend my previous statement: neither of us is losing another word about this from now on!" Robin stated, then motioned towards the entrance. "The boys are finally moving their lazy arses over here, and I officially declare the previous topic to be over and done with for now and the future."
"Fine. For now." Jorien shrugged, then gave Robin another pointed look. "But remember our words, at least: There is literally nothing that man wouldn't do for you, and we all know there is only one reason for that. You don't have to believe us, but at least give the reality around you a chance before burying yourself in all those delusions you hide behind. You aren't the type to let fear control your life, so open your eyes for God's sake!"
Robin glowered at Jorien until Cas kicked her under the table, giving both of them an overly cheerful but obviously feigned smile, which made Robin redirect her scowl indeed. Jorien however just snorted at Cas' expression, then Cas started chuckling as well, and finally Robin couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips either. They were horrible, really, a bunch of bloody dunderheads, but they also were annoyingly supportive sometimes. False hope they were giving her or not, it at least made Robin happy that her friends were trying to help her. And if they were so easily accepting of the subject of her affections, even if he wasn't technically someone they liked much, they really must care about her wellbeing and happiness quite a bit to still push her in that direction. That thought, the fact that they actually cared, was a good enough outcome of the conversation; the rest would do well to stay buried in the shadows where it belonged. Delusions or not.
"Ladies…" Gideon greeted them with a large grin as he sat down on the bench next to Cas, making it quiver even as Simon took a seat on the girl's other side. "Good noon to you all."
"Your good mood is disgusting." Michael grumbled as he took on his usual perch next to Jorien, who greeted him with a mere nod. She still managed to politely maneuver around any and every of his advances without a word, and by now he had mostly given up on it and moved on to try for a casual friendship like he had with everyone else instead. Didn't change the fact that Michael looked positively pissed at Gideon, and glared at him from across the table now. "He's already finished his bloody charms essay and keeps rubbing it in our faces."
"Prideful, are we? How terribly Slytherin of you, especially for a Ravenclaw." Robin smirked at Gideon, and the remainder of the group chuckled in agreement. Yeah, they really were a big bunch of dunderheads. But sometimes, in little moments like this, Robin found that she didn't actually mind being one of them.
______________________________
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sepublic · 4 years ago
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Campfire, Canyon of the Golden Winged Snakes, Hey Ho Whoa!
           AMELIA IS BACK BABY!!!
           Let me tell you, when I first saw her, I had to do a double-take… Like the way the characters just so casually passed her, I blinked and was like- Wait, was what Amelia?!? And then I realized it was, and I just… WHAT!
           I was a bit afraid we wouldn’t see her, but it seems that she’s our NEW fourth companion, to replace Tuba… RIP to Tuba, you had a good funeral, and given the trajectory this season is going as of now, we… Really won’t see you again, huh?
           Screw you Simon.
           We’ve gotten SO many fascinating revelations in these three episodes… I can’t say I’m surprised at all that Amelia, or at least the revelation of her, would return to help Grace (and maybe Simon) resolve her issues! That was a very neat twist with the massive pile of numbers actually indicating it was AMELIA and her monumental issues, not the Apex! Very clever of the writing team to have us heading towards her the entire time, though it makes me wonder when we’ll get back to the Apex given how we only have TWO episodes left…!
           What’s interesting is that according to Amelia, there’s ‘corrupted code’ in some cars, and apparently this refers to any cars that SHE made while trying to figure out the perfect world? Amelia mentions ‘quarantining’ them, and One-One wants them gone as well… Given what Amelia says about ‘ejecting’ cars, does that mean they’re all transported to the very end of the Infinity Train, and just… thrown off?
           Are there a bunch of cars strewn about somewhere in the wasteland, is there even an END to this Infinity Train??? Or are they all just lumped together and some sort of force-field is placed around them, or some other barrier, to keep the corrupt code from –presumably- infecting the other cars around them?
           It is a bit weird to see One-One insist on getting rid of those cars, though… I hope the denizens inside are okay, especially those corgis! Given his lesson with Tulip about not blaming himself worked, I feel like this is contrary to what he’d learned? Or is he simply allowing those worlds to exist, and remain ‘weird’, while still fixing the corrupted code so it doesn’t spread and disrupt the world of other cars who have their own thing going on? Regardless, as Amelia said… it seems One-One is still working on his issue of viewing passengers as ‘numbers’ to fix, like the cogs of a machine! It seems he’s at least TRYING to be more personable, but, well…
           It seems that Amelia is still working on that sound-motif she’s always had, which is pretty neat! She mentions a ‘pulse’, so I presume it’s sent out from the engine, and when it scans an ‘anomaly’ (AKA anything with corrupted code, including stuff and denizens from the unfinished cars) they’re ejected… Given Amelia mentioning having to quarantine Hazel soon, I imagine this pulse heads out every now and then? Shouldn’t one pulse alone have done the trick, or is there a certain range to them and Amelia has to travel through the cars and activate the pulse from her location, to allow maximum effect?
           Anyhow, Amelia! You know, I mused that Episode 7 of this season would introduce the Book 4 protagonist, given how our previous Episode 7’s worked… Each one established the general idea/setting for our protagonist, as well as a formal introduction! The Chrome Car told us about Lake and her deal with wanting to be her own person, escaping the Flecs… The Mall Car established the Apex and properly introduced us to Simon and Grace…
           So… maybe The Canyon of the Golden Winged Snakes Car re-introduces us to Amelia, while establishing the conflict of the next Book; Fixing the corrupted cars! This is just speculation on my part, of course…
           Back to Amelia, I guess I shouldn’t be all-too surprised that she’s still kind of a jerk, what with the way she just… steamrolls over what Hazel has to say to ‘correct’ her with the proper facts, and whatnot! I’m a little glad, because it doesn’t completely forget that she still has a bigger number than Simon or Grace by FAR… But also upset, because c’mon Amelia, Hazel is a freaking kid! I know you’re trying to erase multiple decades’ of past sins and mistakes, but she doesn’t know!
           I also like seeing her just trash-talk Simon and calling him a child, especially since we know that he and Grace are only eighteen thanks to the Reddit AMA by Owen Dennis… Even if Simon were physically older, mentally he really isn’t! Granted I guess I can’t blame him for THAT, though I can blame him for Tuba’s death…
           I remember when the writers discussed juggling multiple characters, so after seeing Tuba die, I was wondering what was really the point… But I see now! It’s because they ALSO have to handle Amelia as well! And dang, she’s still remarkably callous… She doesn’t remember Grace at all and doesn’t even seem remotely interested… And upon hearing that a cult was started in her honor, she just does NOT care! It really shows that Amelia still has a LOT to work on, that just fixing the broken cars isn’t enough for her…
           It was a bit weird to have our main trio just pass by this obvious, fellow passenger, and just totally ignore them… But given Grace’s rule about ‘not trusting adult passengers’, I guess I’m not surprised? I have to wonder when it was made, and how young she was when it was established; If Grace was a kid and that was part of her apprehension towards adults, and/or they were actually trying to get their numbers down, so she saw them as ‘deceitful’ or whatever! Coupled with adults being less likely to fall for the Apex’s propaganda, and it makes sense…
           What’s really fascinating is that One-One doesn’t even know about the Apex, according to Amelia! Which, given the implied length of the Infinity Train, it really says a lot about how much stuff could’ve happened, completely independent from one another! It almost seems like fate that Simon and Grace encountered so many kids and brought them together… Whereas Tulip didn’t encounter ANY passengers, sans Amelia, on her journey!
           (Well, there was that ONE dude in the next car over who immediately got sent back home. And she was only there for five months, but still!)
           I feel this low-key ties back to what I discussed earlier, about One-One being an ‘ends justifies the means’ sort of person; That the situation with the denizens is less a matter of them dying, and more about what that says about the Apex passengers as people! Of course, he doesn’t even KNOW about them, which honestly blows my mind… He really IS disconnected, huh? I guess Tulip helped make a dent in his metal head, but there’s still a lot of work to go… You know, Amelia’s criticism of One-One seeing passengers as just ‘numbers’ reminds me of what some other fans brought up, on the idea of if whether or not issues can actually be quantified like that!
           Given what Owen said about the train also being wrong sometimes, and I have to wonder if this will be resolved by the end of Book 3… or perhaps Book 4, assuming we get it! Yeah, most of the team has been laid off and the viewings are low, so SERIOUSLY- WATCH on HBO Max, spend actual money on this thing if you want it around because you’re LITERALLY paying for Book 4’s production by this point people! And spread the word!
           Anyhow, looks like other fans were right- Hazel IS a failed creation of Amelia, in this case her attempt to recreate Alrick… Although she implies that Hazel is more than just a ‘clone’ of him, is this referring to Hazel being a little girl, or something else entirely? Is the implication that Hazel would’ve been her and Alrick’s child, because uh… Amelia and Alrick are white. She also mentions a ‘handkerchief’, so what’s THAT about…?! Did she just toss one aside and it glitched into Hazel…?
           Hazel is taking this about as well as you’d expect a child, and I’m wondering if Grace suddenly turning around and calling her ‘null’, only to ask to stay overnight… Means that she has a plan to ditch Simon and hang out with Hazel and Amelia, for the rest of her life? Either way, Simon is apparently taking her ‘betrayal’ to heart… That, or he’s expressing genuine remorse at seeing what he did to Hazel, but probably not. Honestly, the way his character is going it seems like he may go off the deep end…
           OR, maybe not! Because we get some more development on him and THE CAT… Samantha! That’s right, an actual name! I guess I’m not shocked that ‘Samantha’ managed to smuggle some tiny One-Ones out of the Tape Car, and even a miniature player as well! I have to wonder how she finds her stuff, honestly… Considering how vast the Infinity Train is, it’s not out of the question for people to go entire months without encountering others! It’s actually kind of a miracle of fate that The Cat has encountered so many passengers, over and over, across this show…! Given the possibility aired by Mace about some characters being ‘destined’ by the Infinity Train, and I’ve got to wonder…
           It’s interesting that even when Simon is taking his rage out physically, he NEVER goes for The Cat… and she knows this, no less! Not once is she ever scared for her life, instead she’s more concerned for what this has to say about Simon! It’s complicated, all right, and apparently all we know for now is that The Cat accidentally left Simon behind, and ultimately stuck with her choice to prioritize herself! It’s interesting, the idea that even if Simon and The Cat have a better understanding as to why the other did what they did, they won’t ever really ‘forgive’ one another, or reconcile- Just go their separate paths, for now and likely eternity…
           Simon is of course getting mad at Grace for not talking to him and is confused by her changing her mind! A confrontation between the two is inevitable in our last two episodes, and given how we haven’t seen Grace’s number at all… It’s probably low. I can see the two reuniting with the Apex at the end, only for Simon to invoke his larger number to turn them on Grace… Or try to head back to the Apex to do exactly that!
           Still, given how the show is still making the point to delve into his perspective and trauma, and how he STILL won’t harm The Cat… I have to wonder if the season really will end with Grace leaving the Infinity Train, and Simon staying behind to fix his own issues? Of course, what about Hazel… We know she’s a denizen for sure so she can’t leave, right? Unless her fake number can fool One-One… Speaking of which, was Amelia’s number at 337 when she first arrived? Because that seems a bit small for someone who had otherwise hijacked the Infinity Train by then and was making unfinished worlds…
           Back to Amelia, if Simon doesn’t help… I wonder if Book 3 will end with HER taking lead of the Apex and leading them down a new path? It’d be ironic given how she mentioned about not being great with kids, and tie back to her penance… Or, maybe Grace will continue to live with the Apex and help! Maybe Simon will join Amelia… Who knows? Personally I’m fixated on the fact that Amelia just UTTERLY outclasses Simon… I expressed previous appreciation at Tuba being able to defend herself, until you know what…
           But given how Amelia is a lot more savvy, jaded, and cynical about this sort of situation; I think she’s probably safe for now! It’d feel a bit unresolved for Simon to get HER killed off too…
           Overall, a fascinating turn of events, and I can get a good sense of why the episodes were clustered the way they were together, to be released separately! Each does its own little arc… The first one establishing the mood and having Tuba, only for her to die! Then the next one involving Amelia and the fall-out of the Hazel revelation… And the last two episodes will be THE finale, just like it’s traditionally been in the past! I can’t wait to see what happens next…
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invisibleinorange · 4 years ago
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Chapters: 12/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: T Warnings: Presumed Character Death Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington,  Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties),  Bridgerton Family Dynamics, Simon Hastings/Daphne Bridgerton Characters: Colin Bridgerton,  Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Anthony Featherington,  Benedict Bridgerton,  Portia Featherington, Violet Bridgerton, Genevieve Delacroix Additional Tags:  Bridgerton, Polin Summary:  Unexpected bad news arrives for the Bridgerton Family (and friends) regarding Colin's travels. This will be a series that is set after "The Duke and I" or season one of the show. It is a companion piece to "Goodbyes".
It took nearly a week for the tensions to calm down after what posthumously was dubbed ‘the night of the burnt dresses’.  Anthony for his part had attempted to make things right by purchasing a series of new dresses for Penelope.  He knew that he took things a bit too far but he’d only wanted to protect her like he would any of his sisters.  At the end of the day, he wouldn’t change a thing about the actions he’d taken.
He wouldn’t come right out and say it but he also felt a bit like he’d done the poor girl a favor.  Her mother had clearly been dressing her in poor fitting dresses in the poorest excuse of fabric colors for years.  Dressed in decent clothing, it was abundantly clear that had she had her new wardrobe in the last season, things might have played a little differently for her.
He knew better than to put that out into the universe though since he’d barely escaped unscathed from the daily glares, silence and intermittent tongue lashings from the family.
Benedict hadn’t exactly been forgiven either.  Whenever he came into the room, people got up and walked out all together.  Eloise and Benedict had hardly went a day since Eloise was born without talking to each other and even she was keeping her distance.
It was enough to drive anyone mad.  There was only so long that Benedict could avoid being home by drinking and making art.  As much as he needed his outlets, he also did enjoy the comfort of family around him.
He needed to take action but he didn’t know what to do.
Fortunately for him, he didn’t have to do anything.
He was alone the study when he heard the door open.  He was busy working away with a sketch with his charcoals and he didn’t bother to look up. In his mind it was either going to be a servant or someone who would walk right back out.
He was surprised when it wasn’t.
“Benedict,” he heard after a long moment.
He looked up and there was a strange sense of déjà vu that hit him.  Just like she’d sought him out before on the swings and things had seemed to be working themselves out, she was there again.
She cleared her throat.  There was something quiet, unsure about her voice which reminded him of how she’d always been instead of the confident girl that he’d been watching her grow into.
“Can we speak?”  she asked.
“I’ve been trying to speak to a week,” he said knowing there was some edge to his voice and he softened it once he caught himself. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or deceive you.  I was just caught off guard and -  I would have told you I didn’t send the dress.”
“This isn’t about the dress,” she told after a moment, lips pursing into a tight line.  “I know that none of you would intentionally hurt me. It was my thought for jumping to conclusions and thinking that you were trying to romance me. I’ve never actually had anyone attempt to romance me so I was too blinded by it to think logically and Eloise didn’t help.”
“I didn’t know that you wanted me to romance you,” Benedict said after a long moment raising an eyebrow.   It was uncanny really that even now the thought of actually romancing her was foreign, weird.  Even after all these weeks, he still thought of her like another sister. If he set his mind to it, he could do this properly.  “I mean, I thought that you hadn’t set your mind to accepting my proposal so I was honestly giving you the space you required.”
“I don’t know what I want,” Penelope confessed after a long moment.  That didn’t seem an accurate depiction of how she felt though since she knew precisely what she wanted and it was something that she could never have.  All the time in the world could pass and she’d still wonder about how differently her life might have been had Colin not been lost at sea.  “I won’t begrudge you secrets because I have plenty of my own – I can’t marry someone that I can’t trust and I wouldn’t want that for someone else.  You can’t grow to love someone if you can’t trust them.”
It was that point that he realized she was still wearing the ring he’d given her and everything seemed to fall into place. She was actually considering going forward with this after everything.  An even bigger alarm went off in his head at the fact she thought she could have some secret so big that he might have a problem with it. He cocked his head gazing at her as if trying to read through it all to figure it out.  There was literally nothing there.
“I won’t lie to you any more then,” he said after a long moment. “And while I can’t think of anything more than a white lie that you are burdened by, I suppose you can do the same.”
Penelope visibly winced at that.  There was something about the expression on her face that made it clear that she was holding back something big and he was at a loss so he just listened and waited, prepared for her secret to be something absolutely innocent.
“Then I must tell you something now,” she started. “You must promise to never tell anyone.”
“I promise,” he told her. He nodded, anticipating building and a chuckle already threatening at his lips for whatever would come out of her mouth.
“I’m Lady Whistledown,” she confessed.
Confusion flooded his feature and that chuckle did escape though almost waiting for her to laugh as well. Surely, this was a joke!  There was absolutely no way.
“Did Eloise put you up to this?”
“No, I’m serious.”
“But – that’s impossible!” he found himself arguing knowing that there was no way that the awkward little wallflower who hung around his little sister was that the proprietor of that wretched gossip column. “There is no way that you’d have nearly ruined yourself and the whole Marina Thompson thing easily could have –“
“Colin,”  she said after a long moment as if to justify it. “I couldn’t let Colin go through with it.  I tried to talk him out of it and he wasn’t listening so I used the only tool that I had that would stop him.  I’d rather be a spinster than someone who lets. I regret the hurt that it caused but I don’t regret – well, I do actually.  If I’d not done it, he’d still be here now and you wouldn’t be trying to ruin your life by marrying me.”
That was enough to render his speechless and he rose from where he’d been sitting, pacing for a moment to try and gather his thoughts.  His family had been absolutely obsessed with that woman, trying to figure out who she was every time they delighted in what she said or were angered.  He didn’t know whether to be upset or proud that Penelope was capable of such a stir.
The truth of the matter was that she’d never said anything that was false (as far as he was aware) about their family or other families. She merely speculated, stated what she observed and candid.  He couldn’t hold that against her, especially when more times than not she’d saved them.
The fact that she blamed herself for saving Colin from a loveless marriage built upon a lie hit him like a ton of bricks and the heaviness of it reminded him of the grief that he’d locked down. He wasn’t happy that his brother was gone but he didn’t blame Penelope or anyone else for the death.  He could have just as easily blamed Anthony for the fact he’d felt like he needed to see more of the world.
Benedict let out a long breath of air that he didn’t know he’d been holding before crossing the room,  decisively taking her hands as if to show that this information didn’t bother her.  He wasn’t going to go and tell the Ton this information.
“You’re not the reason he’s dead,” he said after a long minute.  She wasn’t quite looking at him though so he reached down to force her to look up at him.  “Besides, Colin would be furious if he knew you were blaming yourself for that.”
She was clearly going to dismiss the words but it was essential that he knew as much.
“Well he at least wasn’t furious enough to come back and haunt me,”  she said quietly after a minute. She’d honestly begged him to do it and he hadn’t.
“Well you’re just not looking in the right place. He’d haunt the kitchens. Even in death he’d be a bottomless pit,”  Benedict added, with a sad, wiry smile. Even if it was painful to talk about him, it did feel nice to have Colin’s name not be avoided.
“I can’t argue that,” she said after a long moment.  “Are you really sure though?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” he insisted.  “You’re just crazy enough to survive our family.  We might as well make it official.  I suppose, I could put one condition on it.”
“And what might that condition be?”
“Our first born son,” Benedict said after a long moment pausing to try and make the words feel less weird. “He’d have to be named Colin.”
Something about that touched Penelope to the core and she felt tears forming in her eyes. She wasn’t quite sure how much of that was still grief and how much was the moment.  Her words didn’t form for a long moment.
“What if we only have daughters?” she finally asked.
“Colleen clearly,” Benedict added with mirth.
--
Beloved Readers it appears that the mourning black of recent days is about to transform to new, exciting shades. It  thrills me to announce that the confirmed bachelorette Penelope Featherington will not be forced to spend season as a wallflower.
As previously reported, she took up residence with the Bridgerton Family some time ago. While there was speculation around the Ton to what this might mean,  we can now confirm that from grief new beginnings have formed.
Benedict Bridgerton, the second eldest son of the family, has allegedly proposed and said proposal has been accepted.  The news has brought joy where in recent weeks there has been little positive news to report…
LADY WHISTLEDOWN'S SOCIETY PAPERS, 7 OCTOBER 1813
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