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holybatgirlz · 2 months

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but only far from home | Accidents, 1836 (Part 2)

read on ao3 (part one here)

Words: 6k+

Notes: you think a fractured radial head in my dominant arm would stop me???

---

Charles woke to yelling.

Loud explosive yelling, like a cannon was being shot off inside the house. There was suddenly a multitude of voices speaking all at once out in the hallway, muffled by his bedroom door being shut. Add to it the grogginess he felt as he came back to consciousness. Ripped from the sleep he’d finally been able to achieve, Charles couldn’t make out any of the words being spoken.

And startled out of his sleep, he instinctively rolled. Not realizing how close to the edge of his bed he was, Charles rolled straight off and slammed onto the hardwood floors below, sending a shock wave of pain through his body.

“Christ,” he grunted out a curse against the wood pressed up against his face before sluggishly pushing himself up. The yelling outside had intensified.

It took half a second for Charles’ brain to catch up, and his stomach drop as panic laced through his veins.

Had something happened?

Something terrible?

Quickly throwing on a pair of pants and a loose dress shirt from the day before, as he couldn’t find anything fresh and clean, Charles was still buttoning up the shirt as he hastily exited his room, elbowing the door open as he stepped into the upstairs hallway.

The house was a buzz. Bodies were running through the hall around him, up and down the stairs, all in the direction of his parents’ room. Charles spotted both of his brothers exiting their rooms, Alexander, ever the night owl, was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, while William had a worried expression on his usually jovial face. Violet appeared moments later from the short hallway that led to where her room was, still wearing her nightgown. The golden curls she’d inherited from their mother pulled back into a loose, messy braid.

“He’s awake,” it was Aunt Eloise yelling. She came rushing out of his parents’ room practically in tears. “Christ, I don’t know how but he’s awake!”

His father.

His father was awake.

Charles was moving, already heading towards his parents’ room, leading the pack as his siblings all trailing behind him. He passed by his excited family members, his aunt Posy was brushing tears from her eyes as his uncle Hugh comforted her and his uncle Phillip had already gathered Eloise into his arms, pulling her aside as she started to cry with relief. Mrs. Crabtree was slipping out of the room as he got closer, announcing she was going to go get the kettle on and make some sweet tarts to celebrate.

Upon arriving at the doorway to his parents’ bedroom, Charles found his father lying wide awake in bed. The color had returned to his cheeks, and he was focusing on Charles’ mother, who was in the process of smothering him with affection.

His face was cupped in her hands as she desperately pepper him with kisses. On the eyes, cheeks, lips, and forehead. Every available space she could find. There were wet streaks on her cheeks, tears of relief, shining silver in the light.

“Soph-Sophie!” his father laughed as she continued kissing him. “Sophie, you're smothering me.”

“I. Don’t. Care,” his mother replied between kisses as she pulled away quickly to give him a serious look. “Benedict Bridgerton. Do not ever do that to me again.”

His father only nodded as he reached up, brushing a hand over her hair, and smiled, one of joy and adoration. Like he hadn’t seen her for months. “I love you.”

He looked a little out of it. He was groggy and a little loopy, looking as though he had too much to drink, cheeks flushed with a lopsided grin on his face as he regarded them all. He was in a good mood though and it was quickly concluded that the hit to his head had not done much damage, besides a pounding headache their father told them he had.

But it became evident soon he was in some pain, though he tried to hide it. The doctor had said he’d broken the tibia in his right leg, which Charles had no doubt was causing his father some discomfort now that he was awake. Mr. Crabtree had gone to fetch Dr. Wilkes from town while Charles’ mother fed his father a small spoonful of laudanum for the time being.

Having picked up on her husband’s discomfort, Charles’ mother shooed them all out of the room, so he wouldn’t be overwhelmed. But Eloise had remained behind, clutching her brother’s free wrist like it was a lifeline, and moments after Charles had moved away from the doorway, his uncle Anthony appeared from downstairs. His aunt Kate had gone to look for him, finding him in the office, where he’d fallen asleep at the desk while reviewing documents. His uncle still dressed in what he’d arrived the day earlier in.

His uncle gave him a quick reassuring pat on the back as he walked past him and into the room. But, while the others had gone downstairs to get something quick to eat and to give his father some space in the meantime, Charles remained where he was outside his parents room, unable to move. Like the time his father had put glue in his shoes, Charles found he couldn’t make his feet move from where they were.

So, he lingered by the doorway, watching his uncle and aunt converse with his father. His mother had taken her seat next to him on the bed, Charles could see his father had wrapped an arm around her waist protectively while she brushed his sweaty locks back.

“I’ll kill you the next time you act this foolish,” Charles had heard his Uncle Anthony mutter, his hand resting on his father’s shoulder, squeezing tightly.

“You’ll have to get in line behind Eloise,” his father had mockingly returned. “I’m certain she’s already called dibs.”

From where she’d been standing next to Anthony, his aunt had only scoffed before quietly remarking. “I might just kill you now. I still haven’t decided.”

But his father only chuckled in response.

Once his aunt and uncle were confident enough his father wouldn’t drop dead, they excused themselves and headed downstairs to help the others. Once they’d left, Charles and his siblings finally took their collective turn to check on their father.

While they’d all been silent as they surrounded the bed, nervous and unsure what to say, their father only smiled at them as if everything was fine. As though nothing horrible had happened these past few days.

And Lettie had taken one look at their father, seeing him alert and awake, and jumped on the bed without hesitating, much to their mother’s alarmed panic and immediate discouragement. Lettie could have cared less about their mother ordering her off the bed. She crawled on top of the sheets, careful not to jostle their father’s broken leg, before enveloping him in a hug, beginning to cry against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” she wailed, voice muffled by her pressing her face against him.

“Shh, Lettie, shh,” his father rubbed her back as she cried her apologies and regrets to him. “It’s alright. It’s not your fault.”

His mother moved to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching out to place her hand on Violet’s back as well. With some gentle prodding, she was able to get her off their father and sitting next to her on the bed instead, an arm wrapped around her comfortingly.

William had soon burst into tears as well, unable to keep them in any longer, and their mother was left tending to two crying children. From where he lay, their father told them how brave they had both been while their mother cupped their cheeks and kissed the tears away.

And while he didn’t cry, Alexander’s eyes were still red and wet, his voice cracking as he told their father he was glad that he’d recovered.

But Charles had lost the ability to speak. The words got stuck in his throat every time he opened his mouth, choking him into silence. So, he stayed quiet. He allowed his siblings to lead the reunion, while he lingered behind the rest of them too, off to the side. The furthest he could from the bed without it becoming apparent to the others that he did not want to be in the room.

Their mother soon ushered them out upon word that Dr. Wilkes had arrived. And while she left with his siblings to greet Dr. Wilkes downstairs, Charles was still standing in the room. Something his father quickly noticed.

A weight had been taken off his shoulders, the pressure he’d felt weighing down on him the past few days, past few months, was finally gone. But the pit in his stomach had remained. The tight knot of guilt and embarrassment having become an almost normal sensation for him.

His father was okay. His father was going to be okay. But Charles was still reminded that the last conversation he’d had with him had ended in a screaming match. And so he stood there, silently, unsure what to say.

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

“Son,” his father said calmly.

I wish you would just fucking die.

“Father,” Charles repeated back, stiffly, instinctually straightening his back.

The awkward silence returned, as his father merely regarded him patiently, studying him the way he did one of his paintings whenever it was giving him trouble. He was waiting for him to speak first, to hear what he had to say.

Charles cleared his throat. “I should um…I should go help mother.”

His father only nodded. “Of course.”

We’ll speak later.

Even without saying the words, Charles could tell from the look in his father’s pale eyes they would eventually. Whether he liked it or not.

But for now, his father was leaving that up to him to start that conversation.

Heading downstairs, passing by his mother and Dr. Wilkes, Charles walked into the parlor and was greeted with a celebration. The dark cloud that had lingered over the home these past few days had disappeared. Replaced now with jubilation and joy, as if there had been a collective sigh of relief from all present.

In an effort to distract himself, and to also keep himself busy, Charles focused on helping his mother manage the house that day, as well as assisting his uncle with writing letters to his other uncles and aunts, who’d all been waiting for an update, that his father had recovered and would be alright.

And for the most part, he was successful in keeping busy enough that he didn’t need to go upstairs and see his father, tending to his siblings and mother, assisting where he could.

As the day came to an end, Charles still had not returned upstairs to speak with his father. He instead helped Hugh and Posy pack up their carriage so they could return home. His mother had had to pinky promise his aunt she’d be the first to be called if something happened, assuring her stepsister they would be alright, before Posy was comfortable leaving her side.

While the feeling in My Cottage had been one of joy, the anger, truly distressed anger, had been from his grandmother after she arrived. Later than the rest.

She’d arrived the next morning, having traveled all the way down from Scotland, where she’d been visiting Francesca when she’d gotten the news. The carriage pulled up at the door early that morning, and while she’d been the picture of strength and resilience as she’d greeted them all, it hadn’t lasted long.

His father had suddenly looked very small and very young when he saw his mother enter the room. A look of shame resting on his face as he looked at his mother guilty. While he’d been joking with his siblings and teasing them when they expressed their anger with him, it wasn’t something he could do now.

Especially not with dowager viscountess Violet Bridgerton.

The first thing Charles’ grandmother had done upon entering the room and seeing her second born son alive and well in bed, the opposite of what she had most likely been told in the letter sent to her, was to calmly move to his side, wait a few silent seconds as she tried to find her ability to speak again, and then whack his arm as hard as she could with her small purse, before almost collapsing into tears.

“My heart cannot take this, Benedict. I cannot and will not go through that again,” his grandmother had said, voice laced with agony.

“I know, mother, I know. I’m sorry,” his father had informed her softly, holding her hand as she sat on the edge of the bed and cried.

Charles’ grandmother had then decided to remain in Wiltshire for the rest of the month, seeing it best Sophie had an extra pair of hands around the home with Charles’ father being bedridden for the next few weeks while his leg healed.

Anthony and Kate planned to escort Alexander and William back to London in the coming days, while Uncle Phillip and Crane cousins departed for Romney Hall but Eloise stayed behind, wanting to — needing to — stay at the home for one more night before she felt comfortable enough to leave.

Charles had decided to stick around for a few more days, deciding he needed to speak with his father before he returned to Cambridge.

But as the days passed, Charles still had yet to approach his father, focusing instead on following his mother around the home. Making sure she was alright and checking if she needed help with anything.

“You know I’m quite capable at managing my own home, not that I don’t mind you finally doing some chores,” his mother teased, as he helped her in the kitchen.

He was currently sweeping up the dirt around the kitchen and out the backdoor, while his mother busied herself with dinner preparations, cutting up some carrots for the stew Mrs. Crabtree was going to make that night.

Charles smiled. “I think you’re confusing me with William, mother. I’ve always done my chores.”

“You sweep. That’s all you do because it's all I’ve ever been able to get you to do,” his mother replied swiftly. “Heaven forbid you actually make your own bed or clean up the dishes when I ask.”

“Do you want my help or not?” Charles returned and got a curt look from his mother back.

“If you’re done sweeping you can help me by peeling the potatoes,” she told him, pointing the knife she was holding at the pile of potatoes laying on the table near her.

Placing the broom back in its spot against the wall near the door, Charles came to stand next to his mother. Picking up one of the potatoes and the peeler, he began to slice off the layer of brown potato skin.

It was nice to just spend time with his mother, even as they both quietly worked on preparing dinner. It reminded Charles of when he was little, and his mother would have him help her make her ginger biscuits. She’d stand him on a stool next to her because he’d still not gotten big enough to see over the table, and hand him the ingredients to put in the bowl, gently instructing and encouraging him. His siblings had on occasion taken part as well, his mother would sometimes have all four of them help her, but as they’d gotten older, it had tended to always be Charles who helped her with baking or cooking. It had become their little mother-son activity.

“Has your sister finally forgiven you?” his mother gently inquired.

“Well, I only got the cut direct from her today, but at least she’s looking at me again,” Charles told her.

While no longer upset with him for his argument with their father, Lettie was now annoyed with him for his decision to adopt Muskrat, the kitten his father had climbed up the tree to rescue. His baby sister had yet to forgive the kitten for almost costing their father his life, but after the chat his mother and grandmother had had with her, Charles was pretty sure she’d be over it by the time he returned from school.

And he’d already left a box of chocolates on her bed that morning, as a bribe to get back in her good favor, knowing it would help sway her.

His mother let out a small huff of a laugh. “She’ll be over it by the time you leave for Cambridge. She missed you dearly while you were away, you and your brothers.”

“Even William?” he jokingly asked.

His mother sighed and shook her head at him, but a smile tugged at her lips.

“Even William,” she said fondly.

She continued chopping away, but as she continued, Charles noticed how her shoulders slowly slumped as if she was deflating. Even though his father was awake and talking, his mother still looked exhausted. Relieved but exhausted.

“You alright, mother?” he asked, gently.

She sighed, giving a small nod. “I’m fine. I just…” she took another deep breath. “It’s been a long week.”

Charles placed a hand on his mother’s back, comfortingly.

“I don’t think I’ve been this scared since you were sick,” she said offhandedly.

Charles could only hum back quietly. He couldn’t recall the time he was sick when he was seven, he spent most of it asleep, as the fever ravaged his little body. What had felt like a weekend had been about two weeks. Two weeks of time he’d lost, all of which had been spent sweating and coughing in his bed. Until his uncle had provided his parents with a special tea that had reduced the fever. Or at least that was what his parents told him.

He did remember being held in his mother’s arms while he wheezed and coughed one night, choking on every breath so much he’d been brought to tears while as his mother gently tried to soothe him back to sleep.

And while he might not have remembered the illness that nearly took his life, it was months before his baby sister was born.

Don’t think I’ve been this scared since you had, Lettie.

His mother’s head snapped up to look at him in surprise. Which was when Charles realized he’d unknowingly spoken the words aloud.

“Oh! Oh no, I’m fine, mother, really–” he started.

But she took one look at him and knew what was wrong immediately. She always knew.

Her head tilted slightly as she gave him a small, sympathetic smile. She placed the knife down on the table before spreading her arms out towards him.

“Come here,” she said softly, motioning for him to come closer. So that she could hug him.

Charles sighed, before pitifully shuffling closer to his mother, head lowered, allowing her to wrap her arms around him. He buried his face in her neck, clutching the back of her mossy green dress, as she rubbed her hand soothing up and down his back. Taking a deep, shaky breath, Charles did his best to not collapse into tears.

“Oh, my sweet,” his mother cooed.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled into his shoulder.

“Oh, you most certainly are not,” his mother returned, gently pushing him away so she could cup his face.

“Mama,” he whined, not wanting her to fuss over him, but she only shushed him.

She rubbed her thumbs over his cheeks. “Is this about your fight with your father?” She asked. “Because I can’t tell you right now, he regrets terribly how he left things with you.”

Weakly, Charles nodded. His eyes beginning to water.

“I didn’t mean it,” he told her. “I swear. I didn’t—”

But his mother was already wrapping her arms around him again, pulling him into a tight hug.

“He knows that, sweetheart. He knows,” she told him, rubbing his back. “Why didn’t you say something?” she then asked, and Charles felt his heart tug at the sadness in his mother’s tone.

“I didn’t want to worry you. You were dealing with enough,” he replied softly into her shoulder.

“Charles, I’m your mother. It’s my job to take care of you,” she told him. When he said nothing in response, she sighed, letting go of him and allowing him to move back so she could look him in the eye. “You always act far too old for your age. It worries me.”

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he assured her.

His mother gave a small smile. “I do worry,” she said. “And I always will worry. You may be a man now, Charles, but you're still my little baby.”

“Mama,” he whined again, and her smile grew.

“You are,” she said sweetly, moving her fingers in soothing a half moon shape around his ear, repeating the motion a few more times as she brushed the short strands back. She was probably going to tell him he needed to get it cut now that his hair was to ears. “I remember when I first held you in my arms. Oh, you were wailing like a banshee, face red as a beetroot, and the moment they placed you in my arms, you went silent. Then you let out this little sigh and snuggled into me.” She sighed lovingly. “I never wanted to let you go. Took your father quite a little begging and a lot of reassurance that you’d be alright with him, before I let him take you from me.”

Charles gave his mother a small smile. As embarrassing as it could feel whenever his mother, or parents in general, talked about his childhood, there was a warmth building in his chest from his mother’s comfort.

“I don’t know what to say to him,” he admitted weakly.

“Just be honest,” his mother replied with ease, brushing a hand over his head.

Charles only nodded, even though he still felt as lost as he had when he’d first entered the room. And while he knew his mother was right, his gut only twisted more and more.

“You need to get a haircut,” she then informed him softly.

He sighed. “Yes, mother.”

That got a small chuckle.

“Go,” she said, smiling still as she nodded towards the door. “Go speak with your father, Charles.”

So, he did.

—

Charles gently but firmly rapped his knuckles against the door leading into his parents’ room.

“Come in,” his father’s muffled voice responded from inside.

Taking a deep breath (and a few more seconds), Charles opened the door and entered the room. His father glanced up from the book he’d been reading as he stepped into the room. His dark circular spectacles resting on the bridge of his nose.

Seeing his eldest son, his father smiled at him, closing the book he’d been reading and placing it down next to him.

“Charles,” he said. “How are you?”

“Do you have a moment?” he asked.

His father motioned towards his leg with a soft, amused smile. “Well, I’m not going anywhere for the moment as you can see.”

And the ball was back in Charles’ court.

Awkwardly, he shuffled closer to the bed until he was standing right at the end of it. It took him a few moments to gather the courage, to swallow his pride and finally speak, while he gripped the wooden poles sticking out of the footboard.

“You were right,” he finally admitted. “About Grace.”

His father nodded, solemnly. “I saw the marriage announcement. I’m sorry, Charles.”

“It’s fine,” Charles lied, looking away. He gently kicked one of the wooden legs of the bed, stuffing his other hand into his pocket so his father wouldn’t see how it was currently balled up into tight fists. “Honestly, I realized now she wasn’t really as nice as I thought. I should have noticed it sooner.”

“Love makes us blind,” his father told him simply. “I certainly was with your mother. Probably still am when it comes to her.”

He gave him a knowing smile, evident his father was opening himself up to being mocked or teased, to help Charles relax. But, Charles couldn’t find any humor in the situation he’d put himself into.

He let out a huff of disagreement, shaking his head. “I don’t think I was in love with her. I thought I was but…I mean, how could I possibly have felt affection for her? She was horrible and cruel and I…I just didn’t see it.”

“You saw what you wanted to see,” his father replied. He took a deep breath. “I know it's probably not the same, but I had a similar experience when I met your mother. You know how we met?”

Charles nodded. His parents’ love story was the stuff of fairytales. Famous in their family for being the rare case of love at first sight.

“At a ball,” he said. “Mother snuck in with no invite and you took one look at her in that silver gown she wore and fell helplessly in love. Asked her for a dance and she said she didn’t know how so you snuck her out onto one of the back patios at Number 5 to teach her. Where you spent the evening together.”

His father smiled fondly as he recalled that night. “I knew your mother all of a few hours before she disappeared, and while I knew I was in love with her, I thought I knew everything about her after one night.” He then chuckled. “I didn’t even have her name, just this feeling I got in my chest whenever I thought about her that told me I’d never be happier with anyone else. But after two years of searching, I’d created this image of who I thought she was in my head, based on nothing but assumptions. I’d created this picture of who I thought she was, what I thought she was like, and frankly, what I wanted her to be. All I did was blind myself to the truth. So badly I didn’t even realize it was her when she was standing right in front of me.”

“Hence the glasses,” Charles commented lightly, trying to make a joke.

His father chuckled lightly again, the fond smile on his face having grown wider. “Hence the glasses,” he repeated back. “Your mother is no Grace Beauchamp that’s for certain, but she wasn’t some highborn lady that I’d assumed her to be either. She was far lovelier than that.”

“I guess I dodged a bullet then,” Charles admitted, sullenly. “With Grace.”

“Maybe,” his father replied. “Maybe it was just never meant to be. That doesn’t mean there isn’t someone out there for you.”

Charles couldn’t help but scoff. He wasn’t so sure about that anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he admitted, finally forcing the words out of his throat, watching how his father’s brows popped up in surprise. “I shouldn’t have said what I said. And I never should have said I wanted you dead. It wasn’t true. Isn’t true. I…I don’t want you dead, father.”

His father nodded along as he spoke, taking in what he was saying, before taking a deep breath himself. Letting out a deep breath.

“I also wanted to tell you that I’m sorry,” he returned. “I made mistakes that day too. I shouldn’t have called you an immature git. It was wrong of me to say that. To treat you like you were a boy when we both know you aren’t. Your mother was kind enough to point this out to me after you left.”

Charles’ shouldn’t have been surprised. His mother had been equally upset with both of them. It was one of the few times his parents argued. After he’d stormed off to his room he’d heard muffled shouting coming from the library that had lasted until his father had stormed out of the house, declaring he was taking a walk to clear his head before slamming the front door on his way out.

“I could have handled it a lot better,” his father continued.

“I could have kept a level head and an open mind,” Charles retorted with a shrug.

“Unfortunately, you’ve inherited the Bridgerton stubbornness,” his father joked lightly. “Once we’ve made up our mind, it’s pretty hard for us to be swayed another way. Your uncles and aunts all learned this the hard way. Myself included.”

“Still… “ Charles said, looking back down at the floor.

“It’s done, son,” his father interrupted. Stern, but not serious or punishing, just enough tone to let him know to not start an argument. “No point wallowing in the past, in what ifs. All you’ll do is make yourself ill.”

But it was evident he didn’t believe him, which made his father motion him closer.

“Come here,” he ordered gently, before patting the space on the mattress next to him.

Slowly, Charles came over and sat down next to him, having to turn towards his father so he could look at him. His father took his hand.

“Your uncles told me how you handled yourself these past few days. Caring for your siblings, for your mother. Managing this house and making sure everything was in order. I’m not happy that you went through this, but you’ve proven yourself,” he told him. “I’m proud of you, son. I’ll always be proud of you.”

Charles swallowed, trying to keep his emotions from bubbling up and overwhelming him. And while he found himself struggling to respond, his father didn’t seem to mind, only giving his hand a supportive squeeze, letting him know he was there for him.

"Alright?" his father asked and Charles quickly nodded his head. "Good, then you can go fetch me my sketch book. Your mother refuses to let me have it, but I know I can trust you to get it."

Charles nodded, rising to his feet.

"And son?"

Charles turned.

"I love you. Don't ever forget that."

For the first time in month, Charles felt like everything was right again.

—

Waking that night, fighting off lingering horrors and nightmares, him since he’d arrived back home, Charles struggled to find sleep.

Knowing there was only one solution to this, he quietly crept downstairs to the kitchen to warm up a glass of milk. His mother had made sure he and his brother had learned how to turn the stove on, and Charles had no difficulty heating up a small pot of milk that he then poured into a glass.

He added a spoonful of honey and a pinch of nutmeg, making it the way his mother always would whenever he was little (although he always struggled to get it just right) and had come running to her because he thought a monster was under his bed, before taking the glass back with him as he made his way up to his room.

As he got to the top of the stairs, Charles heard voices coming from his parents room. Hushed voices speaking quietly, quietly enough to draw him closer until he was standing next to it. The door cracked just enough for him to hear his parents speaking.

“You promise me, Benedict,” he heard his mother whisper. “You promise me right now that you won’t-”

Her voice cracked on the last word and his father gently shushed her. “Shh, shh, I’m still here. I’m still here, Sophie, I promise,” he said gently, before chuckling. “I suppose we are even now.”

A thump sound was heard, from what Charles assumed to be his mother hitting his father’s chest, which only made the old man chuckle more.

“I mean it,” his mother said. “The children need you. I still need you.”

“And I have no intentions of going anywhere,” he replied gently. “I have no interest in leaving your side. Not ever.”

“Good,” was his mother’s reply. “Because if you do something like that again, I might just let Eloise kill you.”

“Mrs. Bridgerton,” his father gasped dramatically. “Tsk tsk. How you’ve gotten violent in your old age.”

There was another thump after that as his father just laughed, but there were soft chuckles from his mother as well.

“I’m forty-two, you arse,” his mother said.

“And still looking as beautiful as you were the day we met,” his father replied.

The soft chuckles continued, before slowly the sounds changed to that of kissing. Which was when Charles realized he was intruding on a very private moment between his parents and slipped silently down the hallway and back to his room.

He loved his parents, but he did not need to listen to that.

—

“Write to me as soon as you get there?” his mother asked as she kissed his cheek in goodbye.

“I will,” he told her. “I promise.”

They were outside My Cottage, by the carriage Mr. Crabtree was going to transport Charles back to university with. His mother, grandmother, sister and Mrs. Crabtree all present to see him off. His brothers had already departed the day before with his aunt and uncle the day before, while Eloise had returned back to Romney Hall that morning, and it was his turn to return back to his studies.

He’d already said goodbye to his father, who was still stuck in bed for at least another week, per the doctor’s orders, but Charles found himself feeling at ease once again. No longer worrying that his relationship with his father had been tarnished.

“And you,” Sophie pointed down at the basket Charles was currently holding. “You better not get my son in any trouble, you understand me?”

Charles could only chuckle, glancing down at the additional passenger coming with him back to Cambridge.

Muskrat, the kitten his father had climbed up a rotted tree to rescue, lay sprawled out in the basket his mother had given him to transport her in, her tail lazily whipped from side to side. The small gray kitten had the soul of an old widow, barely regarding his mother as she lounged in her seat. Looking uninterested in abiding by his mother’s demands.

Charles’ smile only grew. He’d grown fond of the little rascal after his sister had introduced them and had decided to keep her, much to his sister’s annoyance.

And Lettie’s lips were pressed tightly together as she glowered down at the little kitten, having yet to forgive her for nearly killing their father, but she still hugged him goodbye and told him she’d miss him. Charles gave her a kiss on the head and reminded her to write to him while he was gone, before moving on to his grandmothers.

“Take care Charles,” Mrs. Crabtree told him. “And remember to eat. You’re getting too skinny for my liking.”

“I will,” Charles told her as he then moved onto his other grandmother.

“Be careful,” Violet said as she hugged him. “Don’t do anything reckless. Understood?”

He nodded. “I promise.”

“You remind me far too much of your father and uncles. You and your brothers,” she told him, and Charles’ mother chuckled softly next to her, smiling fondly at him. “And say hello to your cousin Miles for me when you see him. Alright?”

Charles assured her he would, before saying his final goodbyes and entering the carriage. It took a quick rap on the ceiling of the carriage to let Mr. Crabtree know he was ready, and they were off.

His time home, and everything that had happened, had taught Charles one thing.

Marriage.

Marriage, he decided, was just not for him. It was just too much trouble whenever he thought about it. The idea he could cause someone the pain he’d seen both his mother and father endure when the other was ill, regardless of intention, was something he had no interest in inflicting on another.

He’d leave the heirs of My Cottage to his brothers. Alexander was a romantic so he had no doubt his younger brother would marry soon and have children. Once one of his brothers had a son, he’d have no other reason to worry.

And as he left Wiltshire, on route back to Cambridge, he didn’t believe that opinion would change. That anyone who would convince him it was worth it.

It would take a few years, but Charles would once again find himself proven wrong.

A debutante Charles would meet during his sister’s first season would show him just how wrong he was.

#bridgerton #benophie babies #benophie #my fic.#my fics.

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wingsoffreedom45 · 21 days

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a little analysis of Philip from the Owl House

analysis is my personal observations for my au

Belos is a selfish racist possessive cruel bastard his logic in relation to the people he wants to see around him is something like this: if it's not mine then I'll destroy it but if it escapes then as soon as it appears depending on whether it's a grimwalker, witch or a humen I'll decide give him a chance or kill him outright

Em has nothing to lose, he lived 400 years only thanks to anger, a sense of revenge and resentment, hiding behind the fact that he was doing them a “favor” and doing “the will of God.” But with all this, he is damn afraid of being left alone, since he was already abandoned by a person dear to him, which is why he created clones of Caleb and begged Luz so that she would “come to her senses,” but he is too proud to admit his shortcomings and fears that's why all the golden guards betrayed him and in order not to go completely crazy, his mind began to distort memories and perceptions, and despite his incredible mind, he is blind because of emotions that he thinks he has already overcome, but he doesn’t want to do this and only deceives himself again and again

The reason for all his actions must be sought in Philip's childhood, and I will offer approximate reasons for his behavior. In order to find out what injuries he received, you need to realize that he and Luz are two sides of the same coin, with the only difference being that Philip considers himself the chosen one (as for me, he understands that he is not, but his mind is not to go crazy, he instilled this in him) and Luz REALLY UNDERSTAND how absurd this was. Belos perfectly understands that everyone wants to feel important and chosen, and successfully uses this; there's already a tension between him seeing himself as the chosen one and at the same time seeing it as good leverage, so he likely hates soul-searching and rethinking because it makes him doubt what he believed so strongly. I doubt it, like Caleb. Because of this, he could not understand why his brother's clones were "infusing" him again and again; he saw no gaps in his twisted ideology and always looked for a solution only in the Gremwalkers themselves.

Phillip is an orphan and Caleb's only relative so far Most likely, the fear of loneliness and abandonment began to manifest itself in childhood. He tried to stay as close to his brother as possible (and damn Caleb is just a child and a teenager) Most likely, as in the case of Luz, he was considered strange and avoided because of which Phillip desperately wanted to be like everyone else and followed all the nomes accepted at that time, by the way, most likely because of this, his Polistman Spider, despite their incredible intelligence and obedience, they are feared because of their external kind

Considering the facial expressions of the body I saw when I looked at little Phillip, I got the impression of a quiet, nimble and frightened boy.

Most likely, he tried not to cause trouble and at the same time achieve great heights so that he would be noticed and finally treated better

#the owl house #philip wittebane #luz noceda #au childhood of a tyrant #the owl house au #дом совы #луз носеда #император белос #caleb wittebane

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bridgertonbabe · 7 months

Note

Are birthday crown/ hats a thing in the Bridgerton Household?

If so how is Sophie’s first birthday and getting her first crown from the Bridgerton’s after ABC rescue her from the witch bitch…?

Oh yes they're still very much a birthday tradition in the Bridgerton household, carried on from Grandpa Ledger.

During Sophie's first year at Hogwarts she doesn't actually mention to her brand new friends when her birthday is, not wanting to cause any fuss and seeing no point in telling them, and besides it was going to be one the best birthdays in recent memory regardless since she wouldn't have to be spending it with Araminta or Rosamund.

Her 12th birthday was going well as it coincided with the school day which had all of her favourite lessons and during breakfast and lunch she treated herself to bigger plates of food to mark the occasion - but then suddenly a school owl unexpectedly arrived in the middle of the lunch hour presenting her with an envelope. When her friends asked her what it was she shrugged it off and went to stuff it in her bag when a second owl landed in front of them; this time with a big parcel and a letter addressed to Phillip. When Colin and Michael turned their attentions to him, Phillip equally tried to dismiss the late arrival of his post. However Colin wasn't accepting the excuse and snatched the envelope from him and upon opening it he was shocked by what he found.

"A birthday card?!" he blinked incredulously at Phillip. "It's your birthday today?!"

Sophie looked to Phillip in disbelief as she realised her fellow Ravenclaw had also never disclosed the date of his birthday.

"Well... yeah." Phillip nodded shyly.

"Merlin's Beard, Phil! Why the hell wouldn't you mention it to us before now?!" Colin cried out.

A gasp then drew the group's attention to Michael, and Sophie's eyes widened when she spotted the opened envelope in his hand - the envelope which she had only just hastily stuffed into her bag.

"Hang on - it's your birthday too?!" Michael gaped at her.

"WHAT?!" Colin spluttered.

Sophie's mouth hovered open as she looked from the aghast expressions of Colin and Michael, and then glanced to the surprised look on Phillip's face before she gave a little nod.

"What the hell?!" Colin exclaimed. "You guys do know you're meant to share stuff like this with us, right? Birthdays are meant to be a celebration; why would you hide it away?!"

"It's no big deal." Phillip shrugged at the same time Sophie uttered; "I didn't want to cause a fuss."

Colin and Michael shared incredulous looks with one another, stunned with their best friends self-effacing answers.

"Well it is a big deal and we will cause a fuss!" Colin declared as he got to his feet.

"Yeah!" Michael cheered before the pair ran off.

Sophie then had the chance to read her card, genuinely curious to know who it was from seeing as she hadn't expected anyone to acknowledge it. Much to her surprise she discovered it was from Posy and she wondered how her muggle stepsister had managed to get the card delivered via owl. It only took a glance towards the head table where the teachers sat, where she caught the eye of Professor Danbury who raised a goblet with a knowing smile on her face to provide Sophie with enough of an idea of how the delivery came to be.

"Who's your card from?" Phillip asked, drawing her attention away from the head table of the Great Hall.

"My stepsister, Posy."

"What about your stepmother?"

Sophie quickly shook her head. "It's not really her thing." she replied in a quiet tone. "What about you? Who's your card from?"

"My mum." Phillip replied with a soft smile. "She always gets me magnolia-scented cards." he said and gave the card a gentle flap and a second later Sophie got a waft of the sweet floral fragrance. "We always have picnics, just me and her, under the magnolia trees back home."

"That sounds really lovely." Sophie smiled sweetly.

He nodded with a fond faraway look in his eyes before he turned to her. "Happy birthday, by the way."

"Happy birthday to you too." she smirked

"So, I guess that makes us birthday twins?"

The smile on her face stretched even bigger at the recognition that her and Phillip's connection now had another layer to it, her heart warming at the thought that their shared birthday meant that they were always destined to be best friends.

"I can't think of anybody else I'd rather share my birthday with than you." Sophie said, affectionately bumping shoulders with him before the pair of them burst into giggles.

Meanwhile with Michael following after him, Colin had hurtled out into the courtyard where he found his elder brothers hanging out and he breathlessly tried telling them about an emergency. When Anthony and Benedict got him to calm down and explain things in less of a rush, they were both taken aback to hear that not one but two of Colin's best friends had failed to mention it was their birthday.

"Why didn't they say?" Anthony frowned.

"Dunno! They said they didn't want to cause a fuss or anything!" Colin threw his hands up in disbelief.

Benedict's heart panged with sympathy, feeling bad that neither Phillip nor Sophie seemed accustomed to celebrating their birthdays with any fanfare whatsoever.

"What are we meant to do? Even if I wrote to mum and dad and asked them to send something it wouldn't get here until tomorrow!" Colin huffed.

"I could write to mine since they're closer by." Michael put forward. "I'm sure mum would be able to get her hands on some tins of shortbread to send by this evening at the very least?"

"Yes! Do that!" Colin nodded agreeably and immediately Michael began rummaging through his bag to grab a quill and parchment. "And we can make cards during History of Magic - but what else are we going to do?" he whined.

"You could go to the kitchens and ask the house elves if they could make a cake for them?" Anthony suggested. "Offer them an old T-shirt or something you're happy to part ways with and they'd definitely be happy to do it for you."

"That's good, that's good." Colin nodded along. "Gah, I just wish I could give them birthday crowns like Grandpa makes us."

"Well why don't you make some yourself?" Benedict pointed out.

Colin pulled a face back at him. "I don't know how to make birthday crowns!"

"What's with the confused look?" Benedict laughed. "They're easy enough to make."

"But I've never made one before!" Colin continued. "And besides I won't have time considering I've got to find a house elf to barter with and make cards as well!"

Anthony and Benedict exchanged a look and rolled their eyes at Colin's ridiculousness. However, they both knew Colin just wanted to do his best to celebrate his best friends' birthday as best as he could and they supposed it was a lot to put together in such a short space of time.

"Alright, how about this; I'll find something else for you to give them as presents and Ben will make the birthday crowns for you." Anthony offered.

"Really?" Colin's eyes lit up. "You'd do that for us?"

"Of course." Benedict nodded. "Sophie and Phil deserve to have a good birthday."

And so while Michael scampered off to the Owlery, Colin sped away to the kitchens, and Anthony made a start on figuring out what else to give the birthday boy and girl, Benedict began making the beloved Bridgerton birthday crowns for the pair.

Benedict's efforts continued into his lessons though fortunately Divination was a doss that he could carry on making the crowns in without interruption. Finally he was able to finish them up in Charms class, and he even got advice from Professor Danbury about a charm he could implement that would change the colour of the crowns depending on the moods of their wearers.

At dinner Sophie and Phillip were just about to dig into their meal when they were startled by Michael and the Bridgerton brothers singing them happy birthday. Cards were then distributed to both of them (with Anthony and Benedict managing to make their own cards as well to give to the birthday pair), the deliciously appetizing chocolate cake was presented to them by Colin, and Michael gave them tins of shortbread and also gifted them a knitted scarf each which he said was from his mum (Helen Stirling had knitted them for her son ahead of the cold Scottish winter but upon his panicked letter to her at lunch she sent the two she had already made knowing she could easily whip up another one for her son). Anthony then gave them a bouquet of flowers each (which he had managed to nick from the greenhouse behind the Herbology professor's back) and then he and Benedict proceeded to adorn the pair with the birthday crowns. The crowns both turned light pink to match the identical blush on the Sophie and Phillip's faces, both of them in shock at the lengths their new friends had gone to in celebrating their birthdays.

They thanked them all profusely and when Sophie received a hug from Benedict, it went completely unnoticed by the Bridgertons how her mood-influenced crown turned a deep pink to reflect the newly turned 12 year old's blossoming crush.

#asks #harry potter au #sophie beckett #phillip crane #colin bridgerton #michael stirling #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton

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jokingmaiden · 2 years

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it’s my turn on the hyperfixation rant post maker and oh am i going to use it

okay so like. ive been seeing a lot of people talking abt the collector and either how sad it is for them to have been alone for so long, OR how much of a horrifying monster they are in the disguise of a sweet little kid. both of these are partially right, but not the whole story

since the collector speaks deeply to my inner child (twauma babey), adding in my tendency to psychoanalyze everyone and my incessant need to understand my kins as well as possible, i think i’m in a uniquely suited position to put these pieces together

okay. so we don’t get very much content of the collector as of the end of season two, save for some interactions in the mirror realm, the shadow speak technique, the one brief memory with the owl beast, and the last episode. from the minimal interaction we get, we can gather a few key things about them:

-thinks everything is a game

-“collects” things by sealing them in scrolls (or did this at least once, doing so in the form of the owl beast “curse.” this hobby is probably why he’s named the collector)

-is not a witch, human, nor demon. possibly the only one of his kind, rivaled the power of a fully grown titan

-has wanted to “be friends” with King since he was born (laid? put in incubation??)

-trapped in the mirror realm by the titan, assumedly for being dangerous

-is horrifically lonely, hates being contained

-can “zoom in and out” with their eyes, move celestial bodies with the wave of a finger, turn a large, half-palismen-half-corrupted-racist-dude into sludge with a single pointer twirl, break down and rearrange the entirety of a titan’s skull with nothing more than a thought, etc.

-doesn’t react to fear, anguish, disgust, horror, etc. when seen. doesn’t seem to register these emotions at all in fact, other than surface level disappointment and an unprocessed loneliness

-similarly, doesn’t seem to understand death, harm, pain, etc

with these in mind, the collector’s full character begins to approach clarity. they’re, as some have called them, a “toddler with god powers.” this meme is significantly more accurate than i think most people realize when saying it, though.

for starters, empathy takes each child a different amount of time to develop, and does so through exposure to experiences of sharing pain (see: babies crying due to external expression of emotions from others), among other similar occurrences (learning abt how each person has their own memory, experiencing disagreements, etc.)

the collector, seeming to only have long-term emotional exposure to 1. a regal, godly titan, and then 2. a horrible, egomaniacal, manipulative, colonizing, barely-human man, would have absolutely no opportunity to be able to develop empathy towards any creatures capable of experiencing emotions stemming from survival instincts (which, it turns out, is most of all perceivable emotions).

fear means nothing to them. death isn’t a concept they can understand, past knowing a person who dies isn’t coming back (hence why it’s used as a tool to remove the manipulating “LIAR LIAR PANTS ON FIRE!!” phillip, yet not understanding why it scares the kids).

they full on obliterate belos for convenience. not malice, not violence, just a desire to remove someone who doesn’t play fair. they then have absolutely no idea why the gang looks terrified when he turns around and suggests they play the same game he was just referencing when he turned a man into soup.

without the ability to empathize, the collector would have no way to understand why those two things are connected for the main gang, because in his own mind, his desire to play a game with them is completely separate from his need to get rid of belos. why are they scared? of course the collector isn’t gonna squish his new friends!! he has no way to know how and why his presence scares the absolute shit out of these traumatized children.

extending this idea, the collector has no problem with erasing the boiling isles entirely if it means he’s finally free. most humans don’t have a problem with crushing ants for personal benefit, right? why would such fragile creatures, so much like ants to the titan he once knew, be any different?

then there’s king, a creature potentially on the same power level and understanding as the collector. one who could be their equal. one who, despite being on the same level of potential, grew up in the place of a low-level demon, and had the opportunity to learn empathy and love and fear and connection. perhaps the only one who can explain it to them while actually being regarded.

but how would someone help them understand? well, the only way to help someone so late in development connect with empathy is to provide a method of logical understanding.

how would one do this? well, it would be best to start with explaining death as loneliness.

what does the collector hate? what does he understand is an awful, terrible experience he would do anything to avoid again? being trapped in darkness and isolated for what feels like an eternity, occasionally able to access a passive, minimal form of contact like a shadow on a wall.

y’know, like death.

if king can get these dots to connect in the collector’s mind, or at least get them to listen to a mature adult long enough for someone else to do it, they could potentially be brought up to the mental maturity level of king, or maybe even the main gang!!

if everyone plays their cards right, the collector could be properly raised. they could, slowly but surely, unlearn these unhealthy mentalities, escape their constant, traumatic loneliness (even before the mirror world), and get to live life as a real kid, even if they’re still absolutely OP. maybe they could even go to hexside to learn how to be a kid!! they could connect with hunter who, in a way, shares quite a lot of conceptual problems in terms of trauma, loneliness, being manipulated by belos, separation from kids their age, etc.

they could finally have a family. maybe, in a world where people love them unconditionally, they could learn to let go of exchanging world-altering favors for childlike forms of affection. maybe, with king, they could learn not to need external worth and connection to feel loved.

it’s up to the community to help them understand this, though, especially the parental figures. after all, no child is beyond redemption.

right?

#jm jabbers #toh the collector #toh spoilers #toh collector #the owl house the collector #the owl house collector #the owl house #toh #toh analysis #kinnie hours #lesgo #not sure if any of this made sense #but i kin them very hard #it’s my emotional support blorbo and i get to choose how to use them to process my trauma #please feel free to add on thoughts or ideas!! i need this food y’all please

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chiconisroc · 9 months

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Silas and Philip Questions and Responses Part 2

has Silas gone to the boiling isles?

Answer: He has not : o

2. If Philas did happened in the Owl house lore would it be more popular than Lumity due to the fact it 2 guys instead of girls?

More questions and responses:

Answer: I am not sure, to be honest o.o. I for sure would have loved them for different reasons cause both would be unique and interesting.

3. What would Philip think about people eating horses in certain countries?

Answer: Philip would be horrified, hahaha

4. Do you think Mr. Loverman by Rick Montgomery would fit Philas?

Answer: It would totally fit more for Silas : )

5. What would be Philip and Silas' least favorite food?

Answer: For Philip, he would hate wet bread. Silas would be chicken cause he loved a chicken growing up so much but his dad killed it and without telling Silas, he ate it :'c. And when Silas found out he was eating his pet chicken, well, he got traumatized

6. If Philas was did happened in the original Owl House what things they have to change to keep it somewhat kid-friendly?

Answer: They probably would have, which honestly they shouldn't have since it seems like majority of the peeps who loved owl house were more in the older teenage range and such viewers would benefit to see such complexity and tragic relationship issues

7. what do you think Caleb and Philip where like?

Answer: I think Caleb was a dreamer, hard working, and kind but at the same time kind of naive. Philip was also a dreamer, curious, thirsty for knowlege, but also very scared and stubborn

8. I get the feeling if Philip x Silas would happened in the series conservatives will get more angry at the series because it will kinda paints religion in a bad light weather or not it implied or stated. I can see articles calling owl house anti religious.

Answer: Yeah, you probably right, but at the same time if the show did go with Philip x Silas, then the show should definitely do its best not to paint religion as all bad. Cause not everything relating to religion is terrible. Like, I try to keep a balance in my story, by someone like Father Francis and Sister Margaret be strong believers of their religion and are doing their best to help those in need : )

9. How muscular is Silas compared to Philip?

Answer: Silas is a bit slightly muscular than Philip, but Philip does have lean muscle

10. Is Philip a twink?

Answer: In my story, he isn't a twink : o

11. GRR PHILAS BRAINROT. i just wanted to express that these little creatures won’t get out of my brain and they’re eating away, i need to know more about the silly little otherwise i’ll EXPLODE. they genuinely make me so happy i cannot stress it enough.

Answer: Awww :' ), i am sooo glad you like them, like for reals. I love them too v.v. If i could draw well, i would draw them so much, especially in additional scenes that i didn't end up writing up with them :' c

12. How do you think Silas can be incorporated in the Owl house lore like being foreshadowed in a painting or something else?

Answer: I think a good painting would be Silas trowing Philip into the river, hahaha. another would be how Philip is on sitting between Silas's legs, and another would be the way Silas is looking way from Philip while at the same time forcing Philip's hand off of him. Honestly, silas's flashbacks with philip on them would be a good series of paintings in Philip's mind

13. What would Caleb think of Silas?

If it was Caleb before the boiling isles, he would think Silas is just good friends with Philip and would be so happy Philip has a friend finally.

14. Silas will have to earn forgiveness. If he hadn't taken The Titan's Blood, Phillip would have been able to get the kids back to the Boiling Isles long ago.

It looks like the appearance of Silas will rally the children and Belos against him.

Answer: I mean, if Silas wasn't the one to take the Titan's blood, someone would have grabbed it afterwards : o. Wooden floors need to be replaced and someone else would have found Philip's box. Philip didn't really think about that when he went looking for the box in that one scene.

15. Did Pastor Jonathan knew about the relationship between Philip and Silas?

Answer: Oh, you will see in a Philip flashback : )

16. I think Philip needs to learn this: https://www.tumblr.com/positivelypositive/723839295747719168?source=share

Though, if he did, I guess the story would be over.

Answer: Well, Philip definitely has to make tons of amends before he can just move on and forgive himself : o

17 what’s Philip and Silas’s love language?

Answer: Silas' love language would be, to give and receive: physical touch, and quality time. For Philip, it would be him doing acts of service for the person he loves, and loves receiving physical touch and quality time.

18. I feel like religious group would hate the show even more of Philip X Silas were canon since it kinda portrays it in a bad light,

Answer: Maybe, but it would have been still good to show since many people have gone through such similar scenarios and still do :'c...

19. One song that I think it would fit Philas, mostly Silas' point of view after he stopped hanging out w Philip, is "Ainda gosto dela" (Still like her) (I'd suggest you to look for the lyrics translated if u wanna know abt the music, as it's in brazilian portuguese :3

Answer: this is a sad song :' c, even though it was Silas who for sure pushed Philip away, cries

#philip whittebane #philip wittebane redemption #philip wittebane #Silas x philip #philip x oc #belos #silas harding #The owl house #was not the hero

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majormeilani · 1 month

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annnnd. phillip.

#ahit oc #phillip the express owl #phillip #doodle #YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

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darkmatter-nebula · 1 year

Note

Luz wondered who Phillip's companions were at the time they were watching his diary entry with Colli, King and Eda

Thank you for the request, @importantnightwerewolf!

This takes place shortly before the events of Elsewhere and Elsewhen.

Drabble: Philip's Companions

"Who are these people?" Luz wondered who Philip's companions were. The figures were scribbled, yet it was obvious that one of them apparently was a small child. What she didn't know yet was, that the figures were her, Lilith and Colli.

Speaking of Colli, the small starboy with otherworldly fluffy lavender hair and a heart of gold sat on Eda's lap. The Owl Lady didn't fail to notice the curious expression on her precious Little Star's adorable multi-colored face.

The End

#lost but now found au #the collector #king clawthorne #eda clawthorne #luz noceda #philip wittebane #fanfic

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themythicalgeek · 2 years

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Day 2 of TOH Hiatus

Ok, so I posted this (much) later than the one I did yesterday, but it’s still May 30th in my time zone, so here we go!

This final frame of “King’s Tide” was (in my opinion) a perfect way to end season 2. Plot-wise, a lot of things have been resolved at this point and Luz has finally been reunited with Camilla. But the circumstances surrounding this return have changed drastically since Luz talked to her mom in “Yesterday’s Lie”. While the Day of Unity has been resolved thanks to the help of a literal deity, the Boiling Isles was also immediately turned into a giant playground for said deity and the fates of Luz and the squad’s loved ones are hanging in the balance. King has essentially sacrificed himself to get Luz, Amity, Hunter, Willow, and Gus to safety. And now they’re stuck in the Human Realm. It raises so many questions regarding the plot of The Owl House moving forward. But it’s not just the implications this ending has on the story, it’s the emotions that it conveys.

In the final frame, the focus is purely on Luz and her friends. The night is stormy. They are emotionally worn and physically exhausted. They have been fighting to stop Phillip and the Day of Unity for so long, and even though it’s all over they didn’t win. Not really. Sure, the Draining Spell has been stopped. But Amity, Hunter, Willow, and Gus are far from home, separated from the people they care about. And Luz, while back home with her mother, has no idea what happened to Eda or King. There’s this tension hanging uncomfortably in the air. Their emotions bleed through them, through their facial expressions, through their posture. And it leaves us feeling the same way. That uncertainty and fear that they experience has been transferred over to us, the audience. This cliffhanger, it leaves us wanting more, wondering “What the hell are they gonna do now?” And I think that that’s what makes this last frame so great. It conveys the characters emotions in such a raw way, it lets us feel it too.

Hope you enjoyed today’s TOH ramblings. Have a nice day/night everyone!

#the owl house #toh spoilers #original post

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theraddishhouse · 1 year

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Obligatory Explanation Post

This is my long explanation of how my oc, Radek Antonov, is involved in The Owl House both episode wise and generally in the story. I’m putting it under a cut for when it pops up on people’s dashboards, but it’ll be linked in a pinned post on my blog later.

I’ll also put my TWs here.

While The Owl House remains pretty unchanged in its usual TWs, Radek’s backstory and relationships might be upsetting for some people. There’s mentions and descriptions of relationship abuse (emotional/verbal/physical), physical injuries, religious trauma, house burning, and death. Please read at your own discretion.

This isn’t a formal AU. I haven’t changed anything fundamental about the story aside from my character, Radek’s, involvement. “The Raddish House” is just a joke you don’t have to call it that.

Radek is a mild self insert. Obviously IRL I’m not a 9 foot tall witch from the boiling isles. But, a lot of aspects of Radek’s character are just exaggerated personality traits I have, and a lot of his experiences are similar to mine or metaphors for things I’ve gone through. For this reason, Radek is very very personal to me.

Alright now lets get to the fun stuff shall we?

Basic Information

First things first, Radek Antonov is bigender and uses any pronouns, including neos. This isn’t terribly relevant to the story but it’s fun! Radek is intended to be Czech-coded, obviously not actually czech because they’re a witch from the boiling isles, but yeah. Radek also has PTSD, which I also have.

I use he/him pretty consistently throughout this document to avoid confusion when referring to Radek.

Season 2

I want to cover how Radek appears in the show before going into his backstory since I think that’s basically how it’d work if he was actually in the show. These are rough outlines, not entirely “this is exactly how the episode would go”.

Debut Episode - “A White-Eyed Witch”

Summary: Luz and Eda seek out an old witch in the woods who might have ties to the human realm, but not everything is as it seems.

It opens on a scene similar to the ones from Phillip’s journals - but it’s not Phillip. A person named Radek claims to have taken his journal for the evening to detail what he’s about to do. In the shadow puppets, he has long hair and six fingers. He claims to be looking for something “Phillip deeply desires,” although Radek expresses doubts about the purpose of it or or even the likelihood it exists. The text ends with Radek wishing Phillip would even wish him good luck.

Eda and Luz realize Radek was likely one of Phillip’s “companions” on his adventures, though Eda expresses some confusion. An old house in the woods belongs to an Exiled Witch by the name of Radek, and after some convincing from Luz, they decide to visit him under the assumption he’s related to the witch in Phillip’s journal, as Eda remembers him having six fingers.

When they arrive, the house is dark but clearly not abandoned, just a little weathered. Decor lines the porch of the house. Eda and Luz knock nervously and after a moment are received by a black haired person who ducks through the door to look down at them. He does have the six fingers, and notably has one bright white eye, and a white dragon palisman that sits on his shoulder. He narrows his eyes on Luz, but greets them friendly enough and offers them tea inside. Eda is nervous the whole time, but Luz believes Radek to be genuine. There’s a distinct dissonance between the two wild witches, where Eda’s color scheme is red, and warm, she’s fun and motherly, with her house full of nick knacks and oddities for the hell of it, Radek’s color scheme is blue and cold, and the dimly lit house is littered with objects, books, and the occasional sacrificial knife. Half of Radek’s face remains covered by his hair and the shadows of the house.

Luz asks Radek if he knows anything about an ancestor of his who might have had journeys in the human realm, or even encountered a human. Radek sort of chuckles at this but nods, and explains that Luz might find some evidence of such a journey here. He directs her to his office down the hall to look through the books and journals there. He urges Eda to check the upstairs, however, saying his spare storage room might have a physical item. He reassures them nothing is dangerous, and they’re free to explore.

However, when Luz starts traveling down the hall, she finds it gets longer and the end of it further away the farther she walks, and that behind her, the open entrance to the dining-living room she once was in is different, instead a wall with a left and right turn. Suddenly trapped in an illusionist’s maze, she calls out for Eda and frantically runs along the halls to find steps upstairs.

Meanwhile, Eda is trapped in her own maze, the storage room of boxes expanding as she turns corners and looks behind them. Eventually after phasing through a stack, she realizes the trick and tries to search for Luz, wanting to get them out as soon as possible. Eventually she finds a knife and starts pulling at floorboards, though a hand suddenly appears over hers. Eda is just about to jab at the floorboards again when she sees it appear and looks up, Radek inches from her face. Radke urges her not to damage the house, as the illusion would only grow more angry. Eda condemns Radek for tricking them, but Radek merely smiles and shakes his head. It’s not Radek doing this. It’s the house. It has secrets it’d like to keep, and until Eda can prove she’s not there to destroy these secrets, it’ll keep her lost. Eda reaches for Radek but goes right through him, and he fades into smoke.

Luz quickly realizes the illusion isn’t harmful, just confusing, as theres no traps or anything out to get her. She takes a few deep breaths, and tries to clear her mind and remember what exactly she’s looking for. She wants to find blueprints, or at least a guide, for how to construct a portal back to the human realm herself. When she opens her eyes, the hallway is straight ahead and leads to one, singular door. When Luz enters, Radek turns to look at her and smiles. He doesn’t say anything, and Luz suddenly passes out.

After the fade to black, Luz wakes up with Eda hugging her, also asleep, on the ground outside the house. She wakes Eda up and shows her the blueprints and spare letters she acquired and Eda has whittling tools - with the symbol of an owl carved into the hilts.

Appearance in Elsewhere and Elsewhen

This episode is complicated...I don’t have everything written out yet, but Radek is very much present in it. I’m still debating if Radek is Phillip’s companion throughout the episode or if Radek isn’t there and make an appearance at the end. but either way, Luz recognizes Radek. He also presses a kiss to Phillip’s head at some point to indicate their relationship. Good times had by all. Phillip asks for time alone to reveal the collector and eat the palisman at the end.

Additional Scene in Hollow Mind

Throughout Hollow Mind Radek is pictured in some of the background memories.

Hunter runs away at the end of Hollow Mind after throwing off his cloak. We get an additional scene of him running and ending up somewhere in the woods. He stops to get his bearings and hyperventilate, looking around frantically. A cloaked shadowy figure with one white eye appears behind, but is quickly revealed by the lighting to just be Radek, who Hunter backs up into. Radek smiles kindly when he looks down at him, and Hunter’s shoulders relax a bit.

Labyrinth Runners & S2 Finale

Hunter is implied to stay with Radek and in Labyrinth Hunters hasn’t been staying at Hexside, but rather with Radek, who has given him some hand-me-downs. He sneaks out when Radek leaves for errands, however, and goes to Hexside to investigate his options. Gus makes a joke his clothes are “remarkably mint-condition” given the era they’re from and Hunter gives him a confused look. The episode mostly progresses as normal.

I don’t have as much of a long draft of how Radek’s existence affects the happenings of the final 3 episodes of S3, but regardless, Radek chooses to look after Hunter and the other kids but eventually ends up with Belos in his throne room. It’s probably some sort of capture, since Belos for all intensive purposes means to take Radek with him to the human realm. When Luz arrives, it’s not quite clear what exactly happened, but there’s some unbound rope and an unconscious Radek at the foot of the portal. A broken palisman lies nearby, and Belos stands up to look back at Kikirmora and Luz. Radek weakly turns to look at him, reaching up for a moment before passing out. His hand holds his ankle enough to trip him slightly, however, and he looks back at Radek’s unconscious body with concern for a moment before Luz tries to jump him.

In the end, Radek ends up going through the portal with the kids and embraces all of them as they go through. He’s shown with a hand on Hunter’s shoulder in front of Camila’s house later on.

Season 3 - Thanks to Them

IDEALLY this season would have been totally full so I could explain every arc that Radek goes through but unfortunately that doesn’t happen. I have so many ideas, I have no doubt I’ll end up updating this eventually to include more of my full thoughts.

There’s the scene montage with the kids living in the human realm for months and it’s interspersed also with Radek there. He’s generally shown wearing a loose sweater and sweatpants, and theres a moment where Hunter goes into his “bedroom” is the abandoned house and he’s got one glowy white eye in the darkness, and he screams (it’s played for comedy). Eventually Radek gets a nicer outfit and an eyepatch. It’s meant to be implied Radek went through a depressive state before managing to pull himself out of it, with a little help from Camila. In my brain where there’s a full season 3, so much stuff happens including a backstory episode but oh well. Radek and Camila also DEFINITELY have a thing for each other that is obvious to everyone aside from them.

Later in Thanks to Them, Hunter calls Radek mom, this is pretty normal for them. Radek still seems to be a bit of homebody, mostly due to his alarmingly unnatural appearance. He can shrink, but only for small periods of time and notably has a distaste for it. He can’t really write everything off as body mods like the witchlets can. However, he likes to help out Camila around the house and takes care of things like chores and keeping an eye on the kids.

Radek enjoys the Halloween festivities and wears a nun costume with some blood splatter and a fake knife to greet kids at the door with, and stays home with Camila and Vee. However, later, when Camila comes running to find Hunter possessed, Radek comes along too to rescue them. Belos offers for Radek to come with him but he refuses, wanting to stay with Hunter and their new family. He leaves with Hunter through the portal at the end and looks back at Camila with a frightened gaze.

So what the actual hell is really happening?

First, some context for the Wittebros: they’re Puritans, but less because their family was and more so because their community was.

Caleb and Phillip were orphaned at a young age. Their mom was burned at the stake for being a “witch”, and their father, unable to cope, abandoned them. Caleb took his younger brother Phillip and ran, having to essentially raise himself and his younger brother.

Phillip and Caleb were involved in the religious aspects of their community at Gravesfield and took up witch hunting, though Caleb, who remembered their mother’s death, quickly had doubts about it. Phillip was too young to remember and found a lot of comfort in their religious community and fell further into it while Caleb fell out of it.

Phillip and Caleb are German and know both German and English.

Why does Radek know Phillip?

Radek found Phillip after one of his first trips to the demon realm. He ended up there accidentally after his brother told him a story about it. After arriving there he passed out from the shock and Radek found him, kicked him to see if he was alive, and when Phillip promptly screamed awake Radek invited him inside for some food and an ice pack for the kick. They hit it off pretty quickly and were good friends. Phillip tolerated Radek being a witch because Radek was exceptionally kind to him and made him feel seen.

Phillip, Caleb, Evelyn and Radek were amiable with one another for a long time. Phillip always had reservations about the demon realm and felt their crossing over was not a good thing, but kept these feelings to himself. His love for Radek especially kept these feelings buried.

Phillip confessed his love to Radek by giving him one of his crosses, their version of a promise ring, and the cross that hangs higher on his chest is still that cross. The back is inscribed with their initials.

Their peace would not last long. One night Caleb confesses he has plans to live in the demon realm with Evelyn. Permanently. This releases all of Phillip’s pent up feelings about the demon realm, their crossing over, and etc. In their argument, they accidentally knock over some candles and set the house on fire. Phillip prevents their escape and instead challenges his brother to a knife duel. If Phillip wins, Caleb stays, and if Caleb wins, he can go.

Phillip kills his brother by stabbing him in the gut and leaves him to bleed out.

When the house is just a few ashes he takes Caleb’s coat and the knife, running away and ends up in the demon realm. He confesses that Caleb is dead to Radek, and they both cry and grieve before Radek asks him some questions about how. Phillip is covered in blood - and Radek begins to put together the pieces, but when Phillip yells at him, Radek simply believes it was an accident and that stirring him won’t help.

After this, they come to find out the portal between their realms in closed.

Whats the deal with Radek helping Phillip?

Radek helps Phillip find a way to get back to the human realm under the assumption its because he wishes to still move between them. Radek becomes his “companion” in many of these journals and Phillip notes that he doesn’t perish. Instead, there’s a later entry that Phillip writes where he claims Radek has disappeared. I’ll cover their disappearance (& reappearance) later.

Radek is relatively unaware of his intentions to destroy the demon realm but realizes them slowly after his development of the first grimwalker and his cult.

After Radek speaks with his grimwalker/golden guard named Conrad, and sees he looks not-quite-like Caleb, Radek confronts Phillip and says he won’t help him anymore, telling him to stop, before Radek has to stop him himself. He refuses, and out of rage, uses his “magic” on Radek, blackening his eye and spreading those branching marks out from it. He was absorbing some of Radek’s magic this way, but stops after Radek collapses, writhing in pain and wailing and crying. He leaves Radek there.

So why is Radek still alive and still young?

Radek didn’t go through eating palismen or anything like that.

Phillip convinced Radek he was frightened his mission wouldn’t succeed within his lifetime and asked him to find him the cure for death - immortality. Radek was hesitant at first but knew already of where to go to find it. By the Titans head. He promises Phillip he’ll come back with something, and says he’ll leave the next day in the afternoon to prepare. Before he leaves, he takes Phillip’s journal and writes his own entry in it, which Luz and Eda see.

When he arrives at his destination, he finds a pool of titan’s blood and jars some of it, puts it in his bag. He holds onto this, but doesn’t seem to be under the impression that’s what he’s looking for. He walks further into the cavern and suddenly slips and falls, hitting a large stalagmite and slicing his arm clean off. Bleeding out, crying, and in his pained state trying to put his arm back on, a large, dormant G-d awakens from her slumber and sees Radek. In her sleep, she’d been keeping an eye on Phillip, and having finally lured Radek there, she promises she can give Radek what he’s looking for: Immortality. But only to Radek. It would prevent him from bleeding out in the cavern and going unnoticed in history. But there was a condition - Radek would give something up for it, and he’d have to keep an eye on Phillip until he died.

Radek accepted immediately, frightened of death and assuming the Gd would simply take his arm or another physical aspect of him. However, when he wakes up later, still in pain and bleeding out, he doesn’t immediately realize what the Gd took. That is, until he comes back with his arm off, and sees Phillip, and he suddenly feels only emptiness staring at him. All the joy, glee, or positive emotions he might’ve felt at returning to his lover are gone - replaced with an emptiness, and Radek realizes that was the cost of his immortality. Not his arm, not a sense, but half of his emotions.

Phillip instantly notices this change in Radek but brushes it off as the pain, and sews his arm back on. It...heals.

Radek is unconditionally immortal and doesn’t age or die.

Final Thoughts & Conclusion

This probably gonna be updated as I have more ideas. For now this is everything canon. The only part I didn’t mention is that Radek and Camila are endgame, not Radek and Belos. If you haven’t gotten it by now, Belos and Radek are not healthy for each other and never will be! I’ll expand upon more intimate moments between them through my art and writing and that’ll hopefully be shown pretty clearly. Phillip still actively gaslights, betrays, and hurts Radek. Radek stays because he loves him and he doesn’t really know what it should be like.

Radek eventually gets his emotions back thanks to Hunter. The joy he feels having him for a son eventually cracks the “lock” the Gd put on his emotions and he feels happy again.

I hope you enjoyed :)

#talks #toh oc #toh #the owl house #the owl house oc

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