#Susan (doesn't) speak

[themanedbish]

Susan Goes to the Pharmacy.

Susan rubbed her temples as she paced back and forth in her room, wondering how Nora could've let it get this bad. None of the medications were stocked, including the Sertraline they need to function without having a full-blown breakdown. She looks over their (forged) medical records, putting them in her bag in case she needs them. She had already called the pharmacy, but it had been days since they took their medication, and it made living difficult. Usually, she'd have no trouble writing lines of Python script or filling out necessary forms, but lately, everything felt.. futile. Everything is falling apart, so why try at all, right? Luckily, before she could spiral any further, she got a call from the pharmacy. She just has to get their medication and come back. Everything is going to be fine. That's what she told herself, yet she couldn't stop the growing sense of dread, like something bad was going to happen soon. She wasn't sure if the dread was from her, or Nora, or everyone in headspace, but she had to push through. She didn't want to think about what would happen if she didn't.

Susan teleports herself from the safety of home to one of the aisles of Walmart, figuring that was the best way to avoid interaction with any unnecessary people, while also making the trip to and from the pharmacy easier. Her plan is successful at first, being able to get into the line at the pharmacy without much issue, but once she's at the counter, she feels the dread creep into her very soul, freezing her on the spot. The lady at the counter looks up from her computer, and asks a simple question.

"Name and date of birth?"

She should be able to answer this, she knows her own name! Yet she's unable to speak, the only thing coming out being a small squeak. She covers her face with her hands, hearing the lights and the footsteps and the clickclacking of a mouse, and it all feels like too much to handle. She wants to scream, to cry, but she isn't safe here, she isn't home, she can't-

A voice breaks through her panicked thoughts, calm and non-judgemental.

"Are you, by chance, Susan Smith? Give a thumbs up if yes, and a thumbs down if not."

The voice grounds her to reality. That's her name, and this is the person that is going to help them. She gives a thumbs up.

"Do you have something to confirm your identity?"

She gives another thumbs up and pulls out her id and medical records. The lady behind the desk nods, hands Susan her id and records back, and she grabs a stapled bag with her name on it. Susan signs [thank you] to the lady at the counter, gives her money for her time, and leaves the scene. The lights were still too bright and loud, the footsteps still echoed, and all she wanted was to go home.

[marybeatriceofmodena]

Translator from Québec here. Here is the terminology file for "dumpling", on the OQLF: https://vitrinelinguistique.oqlf.gouv.qc.ca/fiche-gdt/fiche/26522955/jiaozi

And I will also add. You would not believe the amount of times I have to explain to anglophone public servants that yes. Francophone folks are entitled to receive information about their benefits in their language. Because yeah, guess what, not everyone in Canada speaks English.

And there are people who are actually shocked of that. And then they proceed to complain about having to take French classes.

Accidentally called dumplings "Peking ravioli" in front of my New Jersey coworkers and I had to frantically explain that this wasn't some insane form of esoteric Italo-Chinese racism, that's just what they're called in Boston. Had to take a picture of a menu to prove it.

[pennzance]

Miss Susan Sto Helit is literature's most sensible heroine.

She is the kind of woman to keep her head in a crisis. She knows the value of practical experience. She is able to command the respect and attention of total strangers and, perhaps more impressively, those who think they know her well. She is capable, intelligent, and most importantly of all, DONE with everyone's nonsense.

Susan does not get distracted. She does not stop. She does not soften herself. She is often working with knowledge of a situation no other character could even access, and she isn't afraid to use it. She knows there is a job to be done, and once she has locked in there will be forward progress toward her goal with every turn of the page, because otherwise she will have wasted both HER time and YOURS.

She sees the world around her as it really is and reluctantly deals with it on its own terms.

Part of this, of course, comes from her heritage. She's part of a particularly strange family dynamic and is occasionally forced into the familial job. She can be hard to notice. She can walk through walls. She can step outside of time. She can use THE VOICE. She is not, strictly speaking, human. And somehow that makes her one of Pratchett's most human characters.

Not to say she does not apply her inherited talents to the hum drum of her everyday life. Indeed, it seems almost necessary that she does so. After all, what caregiver or teacher does NOT work minor miracles each and every day? Susan just has certain advantages that she tries very hard not to abuse too much.

She threatens the monster under the bed, because not only does she know for certain there IS one, but she also knows precisely how to threaten it with its own worst fear. She knows a few Tooth Fairies by name, and entities that are feared by normal people, such as Old Man Trouble, tip their hat to her and then quickly walk in the other direction. She saved the Hogfather's life and then went home and had cocoa with her Grandfather.

She isn't a machine of course. She likes Black. She likes Chocolate. She likes Children. She even likes the occasional boy. She simply doesn't have time for nonsense or inefficiency, and this attitude reduces most problems she faces to minor speedbumps in the normal operation of her routine.

But when her normal routine is interrupted by familial obligations, she doesn't argue (although she might complain), she gets to work. It is rare among any hero in literature to preempt the Call To Adventure with the matter-of-fact statement that "I've been here fifteen minutes already, why are you running so late?" For this attitude to be chiefly adopted by a woman who is effectively a goth Mary Poppins is singular.

Miss Susan Sto Helit is literature's most sensible heroine. If it were not for other characters getting page time in the books where she features, her attitude would bring most things to such a swift conclusion that her entire bibliography would amount to little more than a collection of short stories. A slim collection at that.

[simpingland]

Hi hello how are ya I'd like to request something

Can you write something with Ewan Mitchell and his co star (fem pronounce) where they're at an interview and goofing off, reader joking about getting sleep while they're putting on wigs for hours and stuff like that, maybe a little more serious talk about their characters

(Readers character is jaces twin and aemonds love interest)

Thank you!

Flirting and sleeping// Ewan Michael x fem!actress.

Summary: playing Aemond's love interest have the perks of giving you a flirty partner during promotion and a comfortable shoulder to sleep on set.

Gif not mine

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last interview of the day, after a whole week of promotion. Always the same questions, always the same answers. Keeping your outfit spotless for a whole day, with your make-up intact and hours of sleep accumulated.

"How is it possible that you are always sleepy?" Your colleague Ewan asked you when he saw you yawning.

"I'm a very reflective person, the night inspires me" you joked, and watched as he shook his head, smiling.

"These things feel like an eternity," he complained.

You were about to agree with him when the new interviewer sat down opposite. She greeted you, and Ewan, as always, was a gentleman, serious and attentive.

You, however, found it hard to pay as much attention. You glanced sideways at Ewan's every gesture, and he seemed to make a great effort to listen. After all this time you had learned to read his expression of feigned listening as well as his real one.

"After so many serious scenes, I suppose you keep your spirits up between scenes...are you bored on set or are you too busy?" The girl looked at the two of you.

"I tend to stay focused. Getting into Aemond's mind is quite complicated..." Ewan's tone amused you. He turned to look at you. "What?"

You let out a laugh, the interviewer looking confused at the scene.

"Sorry honey," you turned to the girl, "but Ewan is lying to you. He was concentrating at the beginning, when he took his job very seriously."

You watched as Ewan leaned back in his chair, hiding a smile and waiting for you to tease him, which he quite enjoyed.

"This guy was scary on the first day."

"It's thanks to the costume and make-up team," he interrupted.

"Oh, no, Ewan, I mean the day of the script reading. That sweatshirt was terrifying." What you said made the interviewer laugh, and Ewan joined in the fake discussion you had formed.

"You speak out of envy," he replied, crossing his legs.

"For this kind of thing, he's very formal. They always put together nice outfits for him, but in real life, it's nothing like that. "

"And what's Ewan like in real life?" Ewan himself asked.

"He's weird... weird and kind of flirty."

He turned red, shaking his head as the interviewer let you speak. You were basically getting more information out for her than she intended to get.

"Yeah, yeah...there's nothing shy about this guy here. He makes all the girls on the set smile with his 'good morning, love'. And they all love to put him his wig in the morning, his patch..."

"Why don't you let the girl do the interview?" Your partner interrupted you with mock seriousness.

"Excuse me, but I'm answering the question. Ewan was very focused at first. No one dared speak to him once he put on that wonderful costume. But as soon as Susan in make-up told him he looked 'sexy'..." you snapped your fingers. "He became a sex symbol on set and enjoys it like nobody's business. He doesn't get bored on set because he spends the hours between scenes practising with his sword, chatting with the crew when he goes to get his coffee..."

"You should tell her how you spend your breaks..." he grinned mischievously. You looked at him, hiding a smile. You mostly spent them with him, but people didn't need to know that.

"You tell her."

"She spends her dead hours asleep or breaking things." The interviewer let out another laugh. "Oh, yes, she's snored through her make-up. I've had to put up with her nodding her head every morning. And the few times she was awake, she would steal my wig to take pictures. Remember what Susan said to you when she caught you?" she looked at you as if to scold you, and you looked ashamed.

"That I was going to mess it up..."

"Exactly! This girl is a mess on legs. The first day of shooting, she tore the fabric of her cape. The first day we shot together, she almost broke the carriage window... and the wine glass. Let's not forget the wine glass on the last day."

"I dented it," you confessed to the girl.

"The whole team was praying you'd fall asleep before you touched any more stuff." Continued your partner looking back at you.

"I've had the broken stuff deducted from my pay, you know."

"Yeah? And how much money have you earned then?"

"Let's just say...I've gone into debt to HBO..."

You laughed at your own joke as Ewan tried to refocus on the poor interviewer. You really had been the clumsiest person on set, and that was in stark contrast to the careful attitude Ewan had had in that same period. Many times, you had led him astray, getting him involved in a game where you both could let off steam while the sets were being set up. He loved to show you his swordsmanship, and of course, he was good at it. He had experience.

But on some other days, when it was anynof your turns to act, Ewan was much more focused, and although you were embarrassed to entertain him at first, he always made a point of sitting next to you. He helped you revise as much as you helped him. And while your gallery was filled with pictures of you making an idiot of yourself with his wig, and Ewan making an idiot of himself with his wig too, Ewan had his gallery filled with pictures of you asleep in the most unlikely places on the set, and pictures of you posing with whatever mess you had made. And Tom had been in charge of recording those occasions when you slept leaning on Ewan's shoulder while he reread his script. That would stay between you two, and you'd been going through the photos before bed for months, unaware that Ewan was doing exactly the same thing, grateful to have an excuse like promotion to be near you all the time.

"The relationship between your characters has been a much-discussed topic on the network and among fans. The girl changed the subject to a more serious one, to the one that really mattered, the series.

"You mean incest?" you asked.

"More like the feud between Blacks and Greens."

"Oh, right..."

"That's the thing with this series," Ewan interrupted. "The incest is the least of your worries."

"Right, silly me," you said wryly.

"It's common sense, of course."

You smiled at each other, admiring each other fondly, perhaps too fondly, as you always did, leaving the girl a bit of an outsider, and were surprised when she asked again.

"The good thing is that you don't look like each other. The relationship you have in the plot is a parallel to Romeo and Juliet. How do you approach this dynamic? Do you want it to be really romantic or something toxic like Rhaenyra and Daemon?"

"That I suppose can always be left to the audience's opinion," reasoned your partner. "For me there's certainly something romantic about it. Aemond is a character that transforms into something perverse but at the beginning he didn't seem to have such a strong quality. The writers wanted to make him that way, evolved. And I think her character is designed not to contrast but to show that there is something good in Aemond." You smiled downward as you listened to him, you had already talked about it during rehearsals. "When we did the casting, the director told me that they were looking for an actress with a sweet aura, well, so that ond couldn't naturally react violently towards her. They introduced me to this arse next to me and... you get a bit attached to her.

"I love working with Ewan, he's always so flattering..."

The girl smiled at you before asking.

"You're okay with the romance?"

"Well..." you thought for a second. Of course, the kiss you two had just rolled around was too passionate for it to be a toxic relationship. You shot the kiss as a very intimate scene, where Aemond approached your character with some fear, and it took you a moment to return the kiss. It was a slow kiss, tense and sweet. But when you return it, it was hard to separate again. Of course, what was left to shoot that day was done with flushed cheeks and dodging glances. Sparks had been flying between you and Ewan since the day you were brought together in that room for the test.

"Yes, I think it's different from Rhaenyra and Daemon. There's a lot more respect and a lot more equality between them. From the very beginning, we were going to treat our plot from the 'first love' trope, and we saw no better way to recite our lines than the longing and desire they have for each other. And how much Ewan and I love each other transcends the screen too much."

You saw how intensely he looked at you, maybe you had said too much. You were silent for too many seconds. You put on that mischievous grin again. "As much as Ewan is a great actor, I don't think anyone can pretend to hate me."

"Wow, that means the next season is going to be very promising for your fans. Thank you so much for this time, and for the tidbits from the set."

"It's been a pleasure, honey," you dismissed her.

"Our pleasure, I love your t-shirt, by the way," said Ewan, the girl was wearing a t-shirt with a poster of Daemon and Aemond on it.

You didn't know how to look at him after that. Had your answer been something of a confession? Maybe the kiss hadn't been that intense for him and you had just made a fool of yourself. Of course it was a bit weird the last ten minutes of your promo day.

You shared a taxi to the hotel, with silly small talk. When you arrived, you were walking up a flight of stairs when your heel broke.

"Oh my God, I can't believe it! My stylist is going to kill me!" You picked up your precious heels, Ewan didn't laugh at you, but he did smile at your desperation.

"Don't worry, we'll ask someone to get us some glue."

"A branded heel fixed with glue?"

"Well, it certainly wasn't made of steel, if it breaks easy it's easy to fix."

You walked all the way up the stairs barefoot. Ewan stopped.

"What are you doing?" You asked as you saw him stand back and pull out his mobile phone.

"Smile and show that heel," he asked. When you did he took the picture and smiled to himself. "For the collection. "

"Thanks to your tip-off they won't get me for period films, you know."

"You started it, I remind you. You've taken away my reputation as a serious, up-and-coming actor."

Ewan grabbed your heels from your hand as he saw you with your hands full with your mobile and wallet.

"The truth is, that poor girl was trying to be professional and we got into a play fight in front of her."

"I think she had fun. Of course, after always answering the same thing, this time I remembered why I like this job so much."

"I hope I didn't offend you, Ewan. You know it was all a joke."

You stopped at his door, yours was just opposite.

"All of it, all of it?"

"What do you mean?"

He licked his lips, thinking about how to phrase the question. You knew what he meant, now came the awkward part. Why the hell did you start talking about love?

"All the weeks since I've known you have been filled with something...special. And you were right when you said that I can't pretend to be repulsed by you, because... I definitely feel the opposite. I like every minute that you are beside me, not only for how talented you are but...how sweet and funny everything is with you. You're also quite gorgeous if I am allawed to say. And no, it's nothing of a method actor if I tell you that I have a crush on your bones just because Aemond would be... I want to make sure this feeling isn't just mine."

"You're telling me you like me?"

"Yeah, basically yes."

"And you're asking me if I like you?" You were clearly in shock.

"It's good to know you understand me...now I need an answer."

Yes, OF COURSE YOU DO. For some reason nothing came out of your mouth, and you could only look at him. Ewan read that silence as a definitive no and, after swallowing his breath, he nodded and gave up without losing his gallantry.

"I'm going to call room service and have them bring some glue."

He turned to open his door as you suddenly became aware of everything. You didn't know what he was babbling about when he opened it, but when he turned again to offer you passage, you jumped on him. You grabbed his face with impetus, and kissed his thin lips again as you had that day on the set. This time there was something even more authentic. Ewan held your waist as he regained his balance. This kiss surpassed the one in the scene, this one felt completely free, completely real and without consequence. Needless to say, you didn't go back to sleep in your room for the rest of the promo tour.

[aimasup]

Is your cat bill gonna be put down

Susan: "the pound tried to put him down before :D so he got them"

Stan and Ford: ah, understood.

Before officially setting sail, the Stans thought maybe they could bring Bill onto the boat, just to get him acclimated

First their new engine became rusted junk overnight. Then their sails got torn out in the water. Then the walls started bleeding. So this wasn't sustainable

Right that moment, Wendy called. Turns out she heard of the creature from Dipper and was like oh free cat fr? sweet

She visited them for more info. When she had to go back to college for a new semester, she took him with her. He's been running rampant there ever since

Bill has tried to kill her before. Like the Mystery Twins and the Grunkles, she's pretty good at surviving attempted murder. Though she's more annoyed than anything else at it.

She is a major procrastinator when it comes to assignments. It's her curse

Wendy is actually taking her studies seriously now because she's the first Corduroy to go to college, and she's mostly left her rebellious teen days behind. She does care about this opportunity!

That doesn't mean she doesn't appreciate a good dose of domestic terrorism.

Bill's hauntings only spice up the students' lives <3 improvise adapt overcome

The trees are blinking and chanting? Class is cancelled yippee. Wildlife is acting hostile? The drunk partygoers were already pissing them off way before Bill arrived. School equipment getting mouldy or broken - they were already pretty bad before. No one really noticed that one.

And Bill has no specific attachment to anyone there so no more dead body 'gifts'

No one is even able to confirm that Wendy is the one who brought this plague upon their land. In the very least they can't get that information out of her or anyone who knows her 🤭

He does favours for Wendy, provided she do something for him in turn. They've communicated this wordlessly through nods and glances and expressions.

Bill's just a guy she knows at this point, they don't live together, she's not directly responsible for his food and bed situation, he's a campus cat now

Students are spending money on fresh meat to feed Bill by hand. Wendy informed them that he likes Bolognese sauce

There's shrines to Bill in corners of the school praying to him for good grades

The college had no choice but to make him the new mascot, after multiple linked cases of violent mascot costume maulings and reports of nightmares over several weeks

Staff took down the shrines once and bad things happened. So the Bill shrines went back up

All in good fun of course (?)

Now that Bill has a whole campus worth of humans who both fear and adore him, speaking of him in rumour and giving him offerings, he's...chilled out??

He only bites people gently. He purrs and flirts and crashes lectures. He raises his hackles and hisses at empty spaces regularly.

In other words he behaves almost like a regular cat of average intellect.

Nobody has died yet, that's all we need to hear 👍

He is going to outlive this school and Wendy tolerates him

[yoitsmano]

Life after Narnia

The Pevensies return from Narnia a bit discombobulated. They are adults in childish bodies. The war has ended, and they are to return home to their parents but they never forget Professor Kirke. Often visiting him during summers.

Their mother notices it first, how everyone seems to listen to Peter. Not because he is the eldest, but because they respect him. She hears them talking of 'Narnia' and deduces that something happened to them while they were away. But she can't put her finger on what. She has no idea what an 'Aslan' is, but she doesn't question them. She misses her children. They are there in their home, but they aren't. There's always a faraway look in their eye as if they are remembering.

When they eat, no one picks up a fork until Peter starts. It confuses their father. Leaving the table, Peter stands, then Ed. The boys take their sisters' hands and lead them from the table before coming to help with the cleaning. She notices the way they walk. Peter is always first, Susan next to him, then Edmund and Lucy. They walk with regality, Peter and Ed with straight backs as the girls take their arms.

They are out on the town, when their father notices it. The children stopped in front of a jewelry store; something had caught their eye. Without saying anything, Peter opens the door, and his siblings walk through before he does. It is a set of lapel pins they saw first. A Lion. He hears them all say "Aslan" before Peter pulls out his wallet. From that day on, he always notices a Lion somewhere on their person. Peter with a ring, Susan with a necklace, Ed with a pocket watch and Lucy with a bracelet. But all wear their pins when he sends them to school.

Peter often forgets that he is not to speak before his father, but one look from Lucy quells his anger. His father calls him "boy" and it takes everything in him not to correct him. He is High King.

He begins working when he turns fourteen. He tires of asking his father for things only to be dismissed of "silly childish things". All he asked for was a sword. When he saves enough money, he buys his sword, and Susan an archery set. Susan notices the tension between Peter and their father.

Edmund asked for a chess set and his mother obliged. He often plays with Lucy, resulting in a stalemate. The only person to ever have beaten him, was Susan.

Lucy is the one their parents notice the most change in. No longer is she a nine year old, but she talks as if she is older. Using words even they don't know the meaning of. She speaks of this Aslan the most. Their parents realize that "Aslan" is the name of the Lion they brandish when they hear various exclamations of "Aslan's Mane!" or "By the Lion!"

They return to their school, Whitmore Boarding School. Many people notice a change in them. Mostly their teachers. Peter commands respect, Susan is positively regal, Edmund has a silver tongue, and Lucy is more peculiar than strange.

On the first day of term, a professor addresses Peter as "Boy" amongst other professors and in front of his brother and sisters. Peter cannot help himself. He tells him to address him with respect; to call on him as "Sir", and he will receive the same respect in turn. He will never answer to "Boy" again. It takes all his restraint to not say "King".

The Professor never did ask him the question he had called on him for.

It almost infuriates their teachers, but they realize that they aren't arrogant, just way too mature for their ages.

Another problem arises when Lucy refuses to wear the school appointed skirts. She prefers pants, or dresses. Never skirts. The headmaster nearly calls their parents when her siblings storm into his office. Peter demands to know why Lucy is being punished for wearing clothes, and why he did not send for him. The headmaster explains that he is not her father and Peter rebuffs him by explaining that his father has put him in charge of his siblings if any problems arose. He reminds him of the letter sent to him explaining such matters. Edmund pulls out the handbook and explains to the headmaster that the rules do not say that girls are not allowed to wear pants. The headmaster calmly explains that the list of supplies sent to them specified black, tan or grey skirts for girls, and black, tan or grey pants for boys. Edmund then points out that the rules do not forbid girls from wearing pants or boys from wearing skirts or dresses. He then calmly suggests that he drop the matter or Lucy will spend the term walking around school without bottoms, as the rules do not forbid that either. Citing that they were told they had to purchase the uniforms, but the rules do not explicitly say they had to wear them. The headmaster does not know if he is annoyed or impressed at the loopholes Edmund finds. He drops the matter, and it is never addressed again.

All the Pevensie’s take up a sport or two. All of them take up fencing, aside from Susan. She took up archery. Peter and Lucy take up swimming. Edmund joins the debate and chess teams. And Susan and Lucy both excel in ballroom dance. Susan doesn’t even try out for the archery team. She’s just in the courtyard watching the team practice with Ed and criticizes their technique. The captain of the team overhears her and challenges her to do better. She smiles at the boy, saying she does not want to embarrass them. They laugh and vaguely insult her intelligence and Susan just looks at her younger brother and he smirks. He stands and holds out his hand, addressing her as “my Lady”. The team laughs and Susan takes the captain’s bow, gets a feel for the weight, and then requests a full quiver. Ed stands to the side and comments, “You asked for it.” She hits the bullseye on every target. The captain has the audacity to say, “lucky shot” So Susan shrugs. There’s a target that’s moving and she nocks another bow and hits the bullseye without even looking. She then hands the captain back his bow and walks away with Ed. She finds the captain’s pin on her desk the next morning.

The rumor goes around that Peter prefers to be called “Sir”. While he’s sitting in the courtyard with his siblings, a group of older boys walk up to him, one calling him “Sir Peter” in a mocking voice. Peter puts down his book and calmly answers with “yes sir.” He stands to look the boy in the eye, and as the boys spout insults. Susan can see that Peter and Ed are getting angry, so she stands between Peter and the boys, placing her hand on his chest and tells him to walk away. It isn’t until one of the boys pushes Susan away that Peter loses his temper. Edmund catches her before she hits the ground. The biggest boy grabs Peter’s collar and immediately regrets it as his shoulder promptly leaves its socket. The other boys come at him, and he side steps. All four of them are on the ground with various injuries and Peter didn’t throw a single punch. He received detention and attended with pride. No one ever touched Susan again.

The professors are surprised when the Pevensies join the student council and the school seems to run better than it has in its history. Edmund works mostly behind the scenes, but people usually come to him or Susan with their problems. They think Peter is scary, but Ed reminds them that they voted him in as the head of the council. He tells them to actually talk to him, he’s not as stoic as he seems.

The adults notice that the Pevensies do not dress as children usually do during their off hours. Instead of t-shirts and shorts and hoodies, the boys are always in slacks and a pressed shirt, sometimes with a tie. Susan enjoys sun dresses and flowy skirts and blouses. Lucy is always wearing boots and pants with a loose shirt. She is not like any of the other girls they’ve taught.

They have all grown taller in the three years they’ve attended the school after the war. With Peter now seventeen, standing at six foot three. Susan is fifteen and almost as tall as Ed at five foot eight. Edmund has always been tall and skinny for his age, but now at fourteen, he stands at five foot ten. Lucy is the one who has grown most noticeably, at thirteen she stands at five foot six.

Peter writes to his father, asking for money for when they go to the shops on the weekends. He receives a reply, saying he ought not ask for silly things. He learns that he can open an account at the local bank. He never asks his father for anything ever again. Even after he left school, anything his siblings wanted, he provided for them.

Lucy asked Peter why he refuses to write to their father. Peter looks at her and, in all seriousness, he replies “he treats me like a boy”. She then goes to Susan, and she tells her that she suspects their father is jealous that someone taught Peter and Edmund to be better men before he could.

During a weekend outing, the school chaperones notice Edmund and Lucy sitting at a table playing chess. He watches as Susan and Peter are perusing the shops. But instead of buying games and toys and candies, they are in a bookstore. Peter comes out carrying Susan’s books and they join Ed and Lucy at the table. Susan cracks open a book and Peter lights his pipe. They don’t know where he got it, but no one dares take it from him. When Lucy and Ed came to yet another stalemate, Susan put her book away and took Lucy to a dress shop. Peter put away his pipe and followed. Ed just reset the chess board. They are indeed more grown up than they seem.

A few girls pluck up the courage to ask Peter to be their date to the ball, but he tells them that he is already spoken for. No one is surprised when it is Susan on his arm at the dance. Yet, no one expects it when Lucy and Edmund join the two on the dance floor and dance the waltz as if they’ve been doing it for far longer than they’ve been alive. They are surprised, however, when Peter and Edmund extend their hands to their teachers to dance the cotillion. They are accepted.

Many professors have gotten used to Peter watching the courtyard during class. But no one could have prepared themselves for Peter suddenly standing and letting out what sounded like a growl before speeding out of the classroom. Many people knew the look in his eye and followed him to the courtyard where Lucy was. There was a new student in Lucy’s year. He hadn’t learned the rules of the school, or proper etiquette for that matter. Lucy had started to be more like Susan. Gentler. Lucy opted not to fight when she could avoid it. Sometimes she couldn’t avoid it. This boy had tried to touch her inappropriately and got punched in the stomach. But he was bigger than Lucy and had backed her against a tree. He didn’t get much further as he was pulled off her and a fist met his face. But this one was bigger. Stronger. He was then pulled by his collar and lifted against the wall by the absolute beast of a man he had never seen before. No one had seen him before. All he heard was “Peter” before he was dropped. His knees gave out and he looked up from the ground to see Peter standing before him, chest heaving. “Apologize.” Came the low growl. There was a small, slender hand on his chest. He supposed that was all that was keeping him from probably dying. He thanked every god he could think of. He was then heaved from the ground by his blazer and made to look Lucy in the face. This hand was different, but the fury was the same. “I believe there is something you need to say.” Came Edmunds voice.

“I’m sorry.” He said, terrified. Lucy just looked back and said, “I supposed you will learn to keep your hands to yourself.” Before Edmund let him go. Peter was still growling. He got off too easy in his book. None of the teachers said anything, noticing how the one hand from Susan kept Peter at bay, they kept that information in their proverbial back pockets. That boy never touched anyone again.

For fear of the beast that was the Pevensie siblings.

[fairytrashmother]

I am going to say more about how well Babylon 5 did with introducing a character's Jewishness

Usually when media introduces a Jew, and it isn't a throwaway line, it's about loss. It's about what the Jew doesn't have that everyone else has. Jews don't celebrate Christmas or Easter, we can't eat bacon, it's about what we're missing out on, and how that sets us apart

Babylon 5, on the other hand, makes about what Susan does have, while ironically framing it through loss (her father's death). Susan has a family, a community, a set of traditions and beliefs that influence how she moves through the world, and we are shown these. We see her sit shiva, and we see her commanding officer and close friend come to sit with her, to participate, because he loves her and wants to be one of the good things in her life. Her rabbi (a close family friend) comes all the way out to the ass end of space to help her and be with her. We see random extras that aren't named at the Shiva, but who represent a Jewish community on the station, letting us know that there are Jews about in their world.

She reads the prayers in English to share them with her friends, and by extension, the audience, but later Sinclaire uses a little Hebrew to speak to the rabbi, because he's shown as caring enough to learn. Her struggle isn't with being Jewish, but with her specific interpersonal relationship with her father, and she finds solace in the wisdom of her community.

They are very clear that Judaism is entirely compatible with this future, because in this hopeful future we aren't a perfectly utopian species, but we're actively trying to build communities and foster understanding within and without, and even if it wasn't a fucking amazing show across the board, I would love it just for this.

[starleska]

73 Yards has devastated me and i have some theories

we all agree that 73 Yards was a genre-defying, harrowing episode...and i think there's some really interesting themes and ideas going on here. tw for discussion of trauma, abuse, neglect and abandonment:

i hope we're all on the same page that the Woman seems to represent Ruby's fear of abandonment, brought to life. always present, always out of the corner of her eye, and whose primary mechanic is to drive people to scorn and leave Ruby without explanation. even people who do not know her, or people she's just met, or who are incredibly warm towards her...they speak to the Woman, and they look back as if to confirm their suspicions, and then run away, maddened and horrified. it is an unbelievable stroke of genius to make the Toymaker's breaking down of the boundaries between science and fantasy bring Ruby's abandonment into being...and for Ruby to weaponise her. but that's it - as soon as Roger ap Gwilliam was taken care of, we expected the Woman to disappear, right? but that could never happen, because Ruby's fear of abandonment will never disappear...no matter how purposeful her life is, or how much she distances herself from others. the use of the cruel, distant individuals in the Welsh pub to set up Ruby sympathetically is excellent...and then, we see people approach Ruby at all levels of emotional connection, when time and again she is considered untouchable, as if her very being is contagious. and all this time, we have the fairy circle being broken and hope vanishing...with hope being the Doctor. the one man who potentially holds the key to uncovering Ruby's deepest desires - to find out why she was abandoned, and by who. and at the end of it all...even in death, Ruby doesn't find peace. she is transported into a neverending hell-loop where she is her own abandonment. the two are inseparable, inexplicably the same, because Ruby's very existence as herself is built on the bedrock of abandonment. and i think this resonates heavily with any trauma survivor...the way that our trauma and our very real anxieties brought on by that trauma are inextricable from ourselves. i think the plot with Roger ap Gwilliam shows off a very real symptom in trauma survivors: we often daydream that our hurt and pain will be useful one day - functional. and not only does Ruby get to do that...she gets to be the quiet, unsung saviour of the whole world, protecting us from a world-ending terror in spite of the abuse and neglect she's faced. she endures menial work and constant fear, while only confiding quietly in one other person...Marti, who i believe is coded as another trauma survivor due to her response to Roger (who she describes as a monster). if Ruby can't receive love and affection from anyone else, at least she can feel satisfied that she served her purpose. on a practical level, the presence of Mrs Flood and Susan Twist in this episode AGAIN gives me pause. my theory that someone here is another of the Toymaker's Legions, and is the embodiment of Story, has only deepened. the fact that we had a cold open without the title sequence, we met Susan Twist very quickly, we seem to have flipped genres for the show and Ruby was able to embark on a self-destructive wish-fulfilment saviour fantasy in real life...it all indicates to me that the boundaries between reality and fiction are fully collapsing. when Kate says things are trending towards the supernatural lately, i think we've only hit the tip of the iceberg. on a broader level: my God Russell T Davies, what a brilliant script!!! this is one of my favourite ever episodes of Doctor Who, and is absolutely my highlight for the season. huge kudos to Millie Gibson for giving such a killer performance...i am now terribly endeared to, and protective, of Ruby, and hope against hope she gets the happy ending she so deserves 💖

[lover-of-mine]

Okay, I know y'all hate it, I don't need you to tell me that, but yeah, I don't read Eddie as gay, never have. And it's not because I don't think he can be gay, as much as I say it, I actually think it makes sense. But the thing here is that we are dealing with a procedural that is not about queer themes that never developed an Eddie storyline to its full potential. Sexuality is a spectrum and Eddie hasn't analyzed it further than what he can see because he had a wife and a kid and his whole life was about other people, and yes, a gay man can love a woman and enjoy the act of sex with women and still be gay, but to expect the show to explain that in a satisfying way is so ??? to me. I gotta bring it back down to the bare bones. Eddie believes he was in love with Shannon, the show tries to convince us he was in love with Shannon. The show also showed us that Eddie doesn't have the ability to look at his relationship with her objectively. So they are not gonna put to question if Eddie loved her or not. It's a lot easier for Eddie to just say he loved Shannon but Buck is his future than it is to put to question how exactly he loved Shannon after they spent 7 seasons showing how much loving Shannon fucked him up. Being a widower single father is Eddie's whole character construction. Realistically speaking, the show would make Eddie's character completely fall apart if he said he was fully gay because you think 50 yo Susan from Arizona who watched Eddie blow up his life chasing his wife's ghost would look at him saying he's gay and be like "oh, yes, sexuality is a spectrum, that is a brave man who was confused but still loved her" of course the fucking not. Susan is still wondering if Buck is gay or not. It's a lot easier to not put Eddie's past into question. It's why I'm such a die-hard for Eddie to stay unlabeled. Canon would fumble a gay arc for Eddie in such epic proportions that I prefer to not think about it as a possibility. Demi Eddie is my heart's truth tho, it explains Shannon, it explains Buck, it explains his relationships failing, but I also don't want Tim Minear anywhere close to it because he would ruin it. I'm not an Eddie is gay truther not because I don't see the merit of it but because the show would fumble it and I'm tired of watching them fumbling Eddie.

I also like to piss y'all off because I can't have a nuanced conversation about Eddie's sexuality without at least one of you showing up and being like 🤓 actually he is the gayest gay ever and he's known since he was a child and his parents are raging homophobes and he won't take it up the ass because it's a sin and you are stupid if you can't see gay is the only interpretation 🤓 and it annoys me.

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby (part 6)

alastor w/ angel daughter reader

(notes: alastor's adoptive daughter is in hell, let's hope she doesn't get eaten alive!)

(the singing lines you'll encounter were meant to not be in order.. you'll understand once you read it hehe >:) )

(caution: alastor being lowkey a bit manipulative? not too terrible but just word of caution.)

(tags: @maksdust @willowwillflower @sunshinesetsstuff @0willowwisp0 @projectdreamwalker @1potato2rulethemall @just-here-reading @avitute @pooplyface1423 @insomniacfigure @mo-0-o @thekanrojimitsuri2 @nevermorekisses @wildfire153 )

my editor <3: @kruncher

Rosie finished her sentence by patting your shoulder gently before her hands finally rested on the handle of her umbrella once more.

You fiddled with your hands as you shined an awkward smile.. you looked like a child about to give a powerpoint presentation to a class.

You then chose to immediately face the Princess once again, eyes on her entirely "but.. um.. Yes!.. Princess Charlie, I saw you at the courtroom presenting your case and I just have to say I'm very inspired!... and I would like to contribute to your cause somehow!.." you paused yourself from speaking too much into it.. wanting to save certain parts for only her ears to hear.

"I also would need to get back home.. and I know you have that sort of influence in Hell to get me a way in Heaven again!-- o...oh..-"

You felt your skin crawl as you barely acknowledged a suddenly teleported Alastor to your side, his staff holding up your injured wing gently to get a good look at the bandaged injury.. his eyes narrowing and a 'hmm' softly escaping his throat. 

A threatening spark in his eye flashed which resulted in your injured wing suddenly moving away from him, despite that flash not being for you specifically. 

In his usual Alastor fashion he seemed very collected, but it was a bit obvious he was much intrigued at your presence and your bandage.

Charlie seemed to finally catch her bearings, moving a few frazzled strands of hair away from her face. "Well.. Welcome either way! We can definitely do that! I will admit I only managed to get through to heaven thanks to my dad but I'm sure he can come up with some sort of way to get you back home!" she seemed to look at your halo and wings, your status as an angel very well seen and she was honestly a bit frazzled by a 'winner' falling down in here all of a sudden.

Rosie gently laid her hand on Alastor's shoulder "Poor little thing ain't she? Susan got her wing real good but I fixed her up right in the nick of time! no infection will harm her further."

Alastor's radio shriek happened again but in a much softer pitch "Susan did this?" There was a quick pause before Alastor spoke up again, "Oh I'll have to talk with Susan soon! How impolite could that old woman be! The senior citizens these days.." he rolled his eyes in a playful manner before Charlie spoke up again.

"Well!-- _____ was it? Let me see if I can get Vaggie to sho--"

"Nonsense!" Interrupted Alastor, almost practically jumping in between Charlie and yourself with a very odd excitement. "Why, I'll help of course! It is quite simple just taking a new guest to their new room!"

Charlie smiled half heartedly "Alastor that's so helpful of you! Just.. don't scare our guest please. I know how interesting you can.. get." the end of her sentence dragged on, as if dreading what he's capable of doing. "Oh and no deals! This is a freedom-oriented place! We don't want any souls to be collected here please.." she then just gave you two a thumbs up, a bit exhausted but still uplifting.

"Meanwhile I'll talk to Rosie here about her cannibals and how we intend to also keep them safe! While they also get their-- fill!.."

Alastor seemed to slither his arm around yours, elbows interlocking. "How exciting! There's so much to show you around here in the Hazbin Hotel! Gosh it'll make you wish to stay down here forever!" A loud cackle could be heard from him that eventually morphed into a bunch of static-covered laugher.

Your body froze as you were dragged away by Alastor up the velvet red steps, not even getting a chance to properly thank Rosie and Charlie.

You're stuck with him now.

Lucky you.

Getting dragged by Alastor was as if a swarm of wasps was lingering on your arm; absolutely nerve-wrecking. 

You stayed quiet as he continued to ramble, talking nonsense about hell, the hotel, how he thought of the name and the design.. basically bragging. It all went in one ear and out the other.

"--isn't that right darling?"

huh?

Your senses came back to you and your eyes flickered up to him once before looking down. "Oh.. my bad I didn't catch that.."

Alastor stopped in his tracks which immediately caused you to stop in yours. There was a pause..

"Why, my dear, since when have I ever had to repeat anything to you? You hardly ever daydreamed like this before!"

You let out a shaky exhale through your nose, "Yea.. sorry." you spoke in a subtle sarcastic way.

He shook his head, his tongue clicking into minor sounds of 'tsk tsk.' "Oh _____ darling there's no need to be so formal! I'm your father! Not a stranger."

You scoffed, "You seem to enjoy treating me like one."

His eyes narrowed down at you; you wanted to burst into a cold sweat just like that. 

"It's better that way, you have absolutely no clue about how animalistic these sinners can be!"

He let his arm uncurl around yours to stand in front of a hotel room door with one of the miscellaneous hotel numbers at the top, his hand covering over the door knob as a green glowing hue forced it to open with a single 'click', a key suddenly spawning and dropping right into the palm of his clawed hand.

Your nose scrunched up in slight disgust "Oh I, in fact, do have a clear idea.. "

Alastor didn't respond to your comment but simply took your hand and had your palm face upward, dropping the cold obsidian key on your skin.

"Your key to your new quarters! If there's any issues with it, do let us know how we can fix it for you."

Your fingers closed your hand around the item and held it tightly against your chest in a defensive stance.

"Uh huh.." you then skimmed past him to walk through the door, your free hand clenching onto the handle of your travel bag in stress.

"Although, I'm simply dying to know--" Alastor's haunting voice caused you to freeze, your head slowly tilted to look behind you with a chill down your spine. Alastor's eyes radiated red, red as sin. 

"Why exactly did you think it was a swell idea to drop aaaall the way down here?" His arm holding up his came pointing up and slowly down as he stretched out the word 'all', insinuating falling down from heaven.

"And somehow doing that while still staying pure as snow? Oh darling, I just must know!"

You huffed a sigh out your nose and rolled your eyes,

"You know, I really admire how hard you try to ask questions when you know I'm not gonna tell you anything."

"_______, even a blind and deaf man would know that voluntarily going down here is practically a suicide! And I know you, you must've thought of this real well hmm? Risking getting gutted like a fish?"

"What would you like to know.." you mumbled as you then proceeded to close the door on him, your back slowly turning towards him.

Until the door was harshly tugged back to stay open, looking over to see Alastor gripping the other end of the door knob.

He laughed, it intimidated and irritated you "My darling you seem to forget who I am. I'm no stranger, I didn't spend the entirety of my glory 20s and 30s to raise you alone just for you to attempt to disown me. Besides.. you still need me my dear. 

After all.. I was the one that held you when the thunder refused to subside, I built you a home.. a wonderful home that others would live in with pride!"

He grabbed your hand yet again to pull you out once more, twirled you suddenly and pointed at your current outfit, a bit dirty with faint spots of dirt on certain spots from first hitting that dumpster when you first got here. 

"Don't even have to mention the elephant in the room.. just simply look at you! Fragile as a flower, still a little sampling.. just a sprout." He next pointed at your wings, ears, and halo during the duration of his phrase. His tone slowly morphing into a familiar sing-song voice and melody you could have sworn was something from your childhood.

You scoffed "Okay that's nice and all but can I just g--"

"Father knows best! listen to your father, It's a scary world out there, " He teleported behind you in the opposite direction of where you were facing you, a hand on your shoulder as his shadow morphed into a more terrifying form for you to gasp and shriek at. 

"Father knows best, one way or another something will go wrong-- I swear!" You couldn't help but stumble a few steps back in shock and fear from seeing that shadow again, causing you to trip over your feet and end up getting thrown by gravity down to the floor in a sit-up position.

"Oh look! Sloppy, underdressed, immature, clumsy, please--" he walked up to you, bending down to grab your hand once more to pull you up harshly. His eyes glowing while closely meeting yours as his shadow laughed in the background menacingly "They'll eat you up alive!"

As he playfully shouted his words in that familiar sing-song melody that you couldn't exactly tap into at this moment, he yet continued to hold up your right hand up in the air and the other proceeded to hold your left.. he was now twirling you around across the hall diverting slightly far from your open hotel room as if you were both dancing in a mix of 30s and classic ballroom dancing. You tried to push him away but his grip was fierce and the sudden dancing confused you, making you unable to properly think about your next move.

"Father's right here, father will protect you, darling here's what I suggest!" He then finally stopped at the foot of your door, your vision getting a bit woozy from the intense spinning Alastor put you through. "Skip the drama, stay with papa--"

"Alastor for fucks sake!-" you finally exclaimed, rubbing your eyes and taking a moment to relax your eyes to recover from your previous state.

"I can handle myself! I know ways to protect my own skin and none of them involve you!" You panted as you stomped your way back in your given room, this time gripping the door handle with a grip you've never had before. 

"Now go do whatever it is you do, and leave me alone!" you slammed the door in his face and locked it as quickly as you could, eventually throwing your bag on your new and neat bed with a huff. 

You've never felt so much anger before since you were living and breathing-- these complicated emotions rising in you like a volcano that sat dormant for centuries until finally erupting and exploding fire and skin-melting magna. This all came out with you lashing out and now even wanting to tear up a bit since you always hated fighting-- with him, with anyone. It hurt. More than it should have. 

You simply crawled on your bed and held yourself, knees up to your chest and arms around your knees. Comforting yourself in the only way you knew how.

God, you hoped this trip in the end turned out to be worth it.

Alastor on the other hand simply smirked, your stubbornness will be no match to his own and he will be sure of that.

"Goodness. Even after all these years, the temper tantrums will never cease." He let out a small pitched 'hm' as he turned on his heel to head back to the Princess of Hell and help her with her next few plans with the battle against the exorcists. 

Unbeknownst to them, a pair of eyes noticed and witnessed the father and daughter's interaction in the hall.

Back to you,

Curled up in your hotel room you then decided to crawl over to your traveling bag, scrambling over to open it and hastily take out a few things like a smaller bag full of toiletries, clothes, and even your personal first aid box for emergencies. 

All would be put aside only for your hand to be looking for one thing in particular, hidden under all your neatly packed items was a journal you brought from back up in heaven to document events to keep your thoughts in place, help you cope with changes, and just as a way to express your emotions in a healthy way and you knew you would need these more during these next few weeks. 

Opening the hard cover your eyes were met with a small paper pocket that you taped up in order to save photographs and small thin memory trinkets. 

You smiled softly, your other hand then went to look at the side of your bag to take yet another photograph, it was the one you put in right before leaving your home to get to hell. 

Placing that photo on the cover of your bed, then taking out your photos that were inside that small pocket of your book you then spread them out all beside each other on your bed.

Six exact photos you had, each correlating to a specific memory you adored dearly.

First five photos were favorite memories of yours, some were of when you were hanging out with Sera, St. Peter, and other court member friends of yours. Either at picnics, libraries, shops, restaurants, etc. 

The last two were more than important to you though, they were two portrait pictures of her and you.

She was a much older woman, she died around the time you were born but never have you felt like someone was more like family in heaven than she did. Unfortunately you never had the chance to meet her until you were in heaven but at the same time after making an intense realization when getting to know her better it's as if you knew her your entire life. 

She was one of your favorite people, but one of your most painful reminders.

Your hand grazed over those two photos, your hand trying so hard not to clench them due to how many fucking things are setting in place, connecting to each other.

"I'll be back, I promise." you spoke to the images of her sitting beside her with her kind smile, you could see him through her smile as well "I'm sorry I never got to tell you what he did, who he really is.. you don't deserve the pain that comes with it if I did.."

You teared up, decades of guilt overwhelming you in this single moment. "I'm sorry grandmother, that he turned out this way.. that he did this to me."

You had no reason to apologize, no reason at all.

But she was so good to you, she recognized your last name but you couldn’t bear to ever tell her the truth and that guilt haunted you yet you reassured yourself it’s better to keep her from knowing who he really is with how highly she speaks of him. 

She treated you as if you were her own flesh and blood. She gave you a home as well up in heaven, took care of you.. guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree in that aspect.

How can someone like him, with a mother like her, turn out the way he did.

How.. sad, that truly is.

—---------------------------------------

You were sixteen years of age when this specific event occurred.

You have always been a good kid, always done as you've been told such as '____ dear don't forget to wash your dishes today', '_____ don't forget about your school work.', 'get in bed now young lady, you still have a bedtime you know', and '______ dear you're a bit too young to read the news don't you think? read this instead, more appropriate for young girls your age!'

You have always done what your father told you, followed every rule he sets, avoided every thing he didn't want you to do. 

Although.. whenever you did something you weren't supposed to was where you slightly feared him. He never yelled, never was one to do so. He was always a gentleman and as kind as he could be, although most of it for show. 

One thing he always was, is being passive aggressive. 

Passive aggressiveness was one of his many strong suits, and using words to get you to fear and to avoid doing what you were not meant to do was his specialty. You always wanted to please your father, for you knew that your entire life was the way it was because he chose to be responsible for you. This didn't happen much though because you just always followed what he ordered.

But sometimes being too obedient can be tiring and you were starting to get a little brave recently.

You see, your father has never allowed you in his home office for as long as you could remember, for all you knew he only took you inside when you were a baby with no total awareness. 

Why were you never allowed in his study?

You were.. actually never sure yourself, at least not until the days leading up to your death.

You were always told it was because it was his private space where he wants to keep everything neat and tidy, and that he wants his work space where he saves and writes anything for his radio show in there and that anyone on the outside would simply ruin the ambiance inside that helps him work.. or whatever.

Although, the older you got and the more conscious you gained you eventually thought that this rule is kind of.. stupid? It's just a study but.. you just guessed that whatever your father said was true.

On this particular day though, you wanted to give him a surprise! Only issue was that it included the study..

It was the day before Alastor's birthday, and you just wanted to check his schedule without being too obvious at all to make sure you had time to slip his gift either in his bedroom or sent to his radio studio.. so you decided to quickly slip into his study and check it really fast and leave!..

You spent the entire month before to find someone and commission for them to make a portrait painting with you, Alastor, and his mother in a single frame. Even giving photos of your father and your grandmother for them to reference, due to the lack of colors at the time with photographs it was more of a monochrome painting at best. This would be your birthday gift to him.

You waited for him to leave for work for his evening broadcast and you just came from school, pretending to be reading a book you were assigned to while laying on your bed and relaxing.

Alastor knocked at your door, letting out a quick 'come in!' In reply, he opened it for only his face to pop out of your door with his iconic smile.

"Hello darling! Just wanted to let you know I'll be off to do my next broadcast! Don't forget to tune in soon if you don't have any school work to do."

"Yes father, see you soon!"

"See you soon sweetheart! if I'm late for dinner there's always some leftovers."

He waved at you before closing your door and leaving a bit hastily despite being very early. You stayed as silent as possible till you heard his footsteps distancing away and finally.. that distant loud click of the front door.

You got moving, dropping the book on the bed without a care while scrambling up and opening the door to your room, your feet pitter pattering across the hall and down in front of the study, your hand reaching towards the doorknob in excitement. 

Until you stopped.

'What if he finds out? do you think he'll notice the slightest change at all?.. would he yell or get mad?.. ground me?.. he's never grounded me much but..' your hand inched closer to the knob, the moment your fingertips touched the wooden texture that's when you knew you weren't going to turn back.

'well.. it's a huge surprise for him.. it's just checking his work schedule without him knowing so he won't have a clue I have a surprise for him, it'll be easy!..' 

And finally your fingers wrapped around the doorknob and finally opened the entrance to the study with sudden anticipation while the creek coming from the door only caused goosebumps up your arms.

The room itself was dark and smelled of old wood from the floorboards and dusty papers, speaking of the floors they creeped like crazy with each hesitant step you took inside while your eyes scanned the entire foreign environment. 

Your eyes managed to make out in the middle of the room a large cushioned chair positioned in front of an even larger wooden desk that was wide enough as a school principal's desk would be. Approaching it you now got to see more clearer details like several papers and folders being sprawled around the space, two half empty cups of his usual coffee, pens in pen holders and laid with the papers,.

Your eyes looked up to see the wooden walls organized with draped over portraits of Alastor himself as a kid, others of paintings of his mother that you haven't seen besides the one in the living room and the photos he showed you, and.. one of you as a toddler.. your eyes couldn't help but linger at that particular portrait of you that you have never seen.

You looked down at the desk again to look for his work schedule since all you knew was that it was in some leather journal you saw him carry before.

But you were yet again met with a framed photo standing on his desk and it was one of you as a baby! You've seen baby photos of yourself but never one of where you literally were still sleeping in the crib.. you couldn't help but smile. 

But you went back to work, opening the squeaky drawers filled with hardcover books, folders with dates and names of several shows he's done before. 

Looking at one of the drawers nearest to the ground on the right hand side was where you found even more photos of you as a baby! And even others of himself growing up and some of his mother, your heart warmed at the thought of your father always keeping his family in mind. 

And how amazing was it that the leather journal you were looking for to finally show up! 

Taking it out with great anticipation you skimmed through the pages of his endless paragraphs and paragraphs of letters and numbers.. suddenly stopping at a particular page where there were.. stains.. they looked almost black in the dark but by squinting your eyes you can barely tell a dark hue of red.. you stood up to see if there was a small lamp on the desk that you missed but right as yo--

"What are you doing here."

Alastor's voice boomed across the room startling you to the point where the journal closed and almost jumped out of your arms as you gasped.

Your eyes darted at the door which didn't seem to hear the creek open the way it did when you came in, covered in darkness was Alastor of course.. his eyes and smile seemingly piercing through the darkness as his figure was illuminated from the light in the halls.

"Father!-- I.. I'm.. I just wanted to--" He interrupted you not by speaking, but by walking in and the creeks from the wooden floors seemed more threatening than when you first heard them. The closer he got the more your shoulders raised up.. "Look I'm sorry I just wanted to see your work schedule, that's all!.."

"Darling." god even the way he pulled on the chain attached to the lamp made it scary as well.. "You have never disobeyed me before, how can I work comfortably now?"

"I'm.. I'm sorry.." 

Alastor's aura seemed to at least lighten up with the lamp now.. god.

"Guess I always knew this day was coming.." he shook his head in disappointment, "knew that soon you'd want to leave the nest."

"But I--"

"Soon, but not yet. Trust me, pet."

"But father! I just wanted to look at your work schedule.."

"And you could've asked, not sneaked in like some thief.. I never raised you that way." Despite how the situation is though.. he had his eerie permanent smile on his face which only confused you more.

"You see my dear, by disobeying me even in the simplest of things only calls for danger. Unnecessary trouble to lure and latch onto you. Trouble in which even I won't protect you from."

Why was he talking like this?.. you were unsure.. but you knew that he was leading on to make some kind of point.. but in a sing-song type of approach. 

It wasn't uncommon for him to sing lessons to you at this age or whatever age you and him were, it's a common thing to you that his theatrics were an everyday thing.. it's how you learned how to sing yourself.

He continued, "Gullible, naive, positively grubby, ditzy, and a bit.. well.. hmm.. vague!"

You shook your head in confusion, him taking himself beside you to then shine you the most.. warming smile yet. The mixed signals were insane.

Seeing your confusion he only intensified it more "oh but darling I'm just saying cause' I love you, father understands, father's here to help you, all I have is one request!..” he spun around you as he ended up facing you and holding your hands in his, finally pulling you in a warm hug. oh wow.. he was never one to say ‘I love you’ much.. This total change was whiplash at its finest. 

You melted in the hug quite easily as you were always an affectionate child, plus you wanted to get rid of the guilt by just.. hoping he would forget what you tried to do. 

“_____?”

“Yes?..” 

The energy changed.

“Don’t ever come back into my study, again.”

“I..” you were speechless.. you were starting to question his authority slightly more than ever but.. “Yes father..”

“Oh I love you very much dear..”

You smiled slightly despite the stern scold he gave just now, but he was also never one to hug much so this made you feel nice.. 

“I love you more..” you could almost feel Alastor slowly grab onto the journal you were holding and tucked it in his coat which he usually wore out to work. 

“I love you most.” Backing away from the embrace with his hands on your shoulders he also gave you an uncharacteristically yet fatherly peck on your forehead and hairline which was only saved for when he’s tucking you in at night and he’s having a good day. 

Leaving behind a small ‘peck’ sound. It was almost kinda awkward the way he stood, it was as if he was trying to make it convincing with how fast it was too. 

“Don’t forget it!” He smiled at you brightly as he raised up a finger to only move it side to side.

“You’ll regret it.. Father! Knows best..” he gave you simply two pats on the head with his palm and his book in his jacket due to how swiftly he took it from your hands. 

Leading you out the door with a swift motion of him pulling you by your wrist and into the hall once more.. this time making a mental note as he closed the door behind him to get a proper lock for his study next time.

He then immediately started scrambling out the door, “Oh well look at the time! Almost late for work! I’ll see you in a while, my flower! Remember, I trust you! Don’t break it again! Would be a shame if that were your gift for my birthday!..” Cheerfully announcing across the house as he finally reached the door to pop out in the wide world again.

Why did he come back? You could only assume he forgot the journal you were holding before..

You sighed, biting the inside of your cheek with your eyes wanting to water. “I just wanted to give you your gift perfectly..”

Arms crossed, you went back into your room and sat at the foot of your bed. Somberly regretting your terrible decisions..

‘Can't believe you broke his trust like that!.. and a day before his birthday??.. you must be out of your mind _____.’ Eyebrows turn down with a sad little frown on your face.

‘Although..’ your thoughts led you to look out the doorway of your room and into the dark hall. 

‘Is there anything else he’s trying to hide?..’

(HEYYYY thank you for reading chapter 6!! This was a total blast to write ✨ had so much fun trying to add a bit more detail into Alastor since he is still a serial killer, and he does this all out of love but it can definitely come out more.. manipulative. Whether he does it on purpose or not kinda depends on how you want to see it but personally he does it on purpose because he knows it’ll keep his daughter at bay qwq -and yes! I used tangled songs because personally I felt like it really emulated this side of him so ya!! He loves her to death but isn’t afraid at all to pull strings.)

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: angels

Want some cool fictional angels? Good news! Whether you prefer traditional winged angels, scary eldritch angels, possibly-human-angels, incredibly creative in-name-only-angels, angels separated from or exploring concepts of faith and religion, romance, horror, fantasy, or sci-fi; this list is sure to offer something to chew on!

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!

Historical fantasy angels

When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb*

The angel Uriel and the demon Little Ash have been friends for centuries, living and studying together in a small jewish community in Europe. But times are changing, and many of the community have left for a new life across the sea. When one of these emigrants go missing, Uriel and Little Ash decide to leave their peaceful life and go find and, if needed, save her.

A Master of Djinn by P. Djèli Clark

Set in an alternate 1910’s steampunk Cairo, where djinn and other creatures (among other things, creepy steampunk angels) live alongside humans. We get to follow an investigator as she races to catch a criminal using a powerful object to control djinn and stir unrest. Fantastically creative and fresh, and also features a buddy cop dynamic between two female leads as well as a sapphic romance.

The Angel of the Crows by Katherine Addison*

Sherlock Holmes retelling. After having been injured fighting a war against fallen angels, Doyle returns to London to survive on only a veteran's pension. To afford a place to live in the city, Doyle finds a housemate in Crow, and eccentric angel with a great curiosity for humans and a knack for solving crime. And London needs its protector - supernatural beings walk the streets, and a someone going by the name Jack the Ripper terrifies the citizens at night.

Modern day fantasy angels

Bitter by Akwaeke Emezi

Novella, young adult. Bitter is an art student in Lucille, a city on the brink. Injustice plagues the citizens and protests shake the streets, and Bitter doesn't know where her place his - whether to fight or stay safe. When her art calls upon a creature of bloody justice, she must ask herself just how far she’s prepared to go and what price she’s ready to pay for justice.

Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor

Young adult portal fantasy. Young Karou is a student in Prague, but she’s also a mystery. She fills sketchbooks with drawings of monsters, trades in wishes, speaks languages that aren't all human, and has hair that grows out blue. When strange signs start appearing around the world - handprints scorched into doorways by winged strangers - will Karou finally find out who she really is?

Angelfall by Susan Ee*

Young adult post apocalypse. Six months ago, the angels descended on the Earth - and brought the apocalypse with them. Between ruling street gangs and vicious angels, Penryn is just trying to keep her family alive. When angels fly away with her little sister, Penryn does the unthinkable: strikes a deal with an injured and outcast angel to rescue her.

A Madness of Angels by Kate Griffin*

Urban fantasy. Two years ago, sorcerer Matthew Swift was killed. Today, he woke back up. And he isn't alone in his body, but rather in the company of the blue electric angels, who lived in the telephone lines and are now experiencing the world for the first time through him. Now, he seeks vengeance not only against the one who killed him, but also against the one who brought him back.

The Fall that Saved Us by Tamara Jerée*

Cassiel is of angelic heritage, raised to fight and kill demons alongside her family. But Cassiel has left the hunt and her family behind, wanting a normal life. For three years she's built a life for herself, cut off from her family, but now a demon has found her, sent to collect her soul. Except, the demon isn't any more interested in following the orders of her family than Cassiel is. Can they work together to free themselves from the expectations placed on them? Sapphic romance.

Out of the Blue by Sophie Cameron*

Young adult, sapphic main character. When angels started falling from the sky, the world went mad. So far not a single angel has survived the fall, but that doesn't stop teenage Jaya's father from growing an obsession with catching one, going as far as uprooting the entire family to Edinburgh in hopes of finding one. Jaya, busy mourning the recent loss of her mother, finds his obsession pointless - until an angel crashes right at her feet. What’s more, it's alive...

Full on fantasy angels

Tread of Angels by Rebecca Roanhorse

Novella. During Heaven's War, the rebel Abaddon died and fell. Now, long after, what remains of his body is a valuable element called divinity, which is mined by Fallen, descendants of those who fell and the only ones capable of perceiving divinity. Celeste, a Fallen raised among the privileged Elect, is deeply protective of her little sister Mariel. When Mariel is accused of having murdered an Elect, it’s up to Celeste to find out what really happened and save her sister.

The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman

Middle grade. In Lyra's world, every person has a daemon: an animal companion who follows them throughout life. When children begins being stolen off the street, among them Lyra's friend, she must embark on a great journey to save him, taking her to the furthest north - and beyond. A note: the angels do not appear until the second book, however this trilogy is very much worth a read from the start.

Gunmetal Gods by Zamil Akhtar

Dark fantasy inspired by the crusades. Seeking revenge, Micah the Metal leads an army of men baptized i angel's blood against the kingdom that stole his daughter. It’s up to Kevah, legendary fighter, to stop him and save his people. But ever since losing his wife a decade ago, Kevah has lost his fighting spirit. To defeat Micah, he must find it within himself a will to live again. While featuring (scary eldritch) angels, they serve more as a driving background/world-building force than as actual characters.

Horror angels

The Unnoticeables by Robert Brockway

Angels watch over humans, but not to protect us but to solve us, seeking to make the universe more efficient and clean away the undesirable. Carey, a 70s punk, doesn't like the idea of being solved. Watching fellow punks disappear off the streets, he becomes embroiled in a dangerous conspiracy. Decades later, stunt woman Kaitlyn has her own encounter with the angels and their creations - as well an older punk who might have the answers she needs.

Hell Followed With Us by Andrew Joseph White

Young adult post apocalypse. The world has ended, and sixteen-year-old trans boy Benji is on the run from the cult that caused armageddon. Infected with the bioweapon they released to bring about the end, Benji is slowly transforming into something not quite human and desperate to find someplace safe. When coming across a group of surviving teens, Benji finds something new to fight for. No traditional angels, but it does play with the concept.

Angel Radio by A.M. Blaushild

Young adult post apocalypse. A week after strange and terrifying angels appeared, humanity is dead. Sole survivor of her town, teenage Erika is left wandering on her own. That is, until she catches an odd broadcast on the radio which lures her into the newly emptied world. There she encounters dangerous creatures, but also fellow survivor Midori, who has a cryptic connection to the angels.

Sci-fi angels

Archangel Protocol (LINK Angel series) by Lyda Morehouse

Cyberpunk. In a future where religion has become the law of the land and people spend as much time in cyberspace as in reality, ex-cop Deirdre has lost everything after having been accused of a crime she didn't commit. When approached by a man calling himself Michael and asked to solve the mystery behind the so called link angels - supposed angels who show themselves in cyberspace - Deirdre is given a chance at redemption and answers.

Archangel by Sharon Shinn

For twenty years, archangel Raphael has ruled over the lands, leading to corruption among both angels and mortals. Now the time has come for the angel Gabriel to become archangel, but first he must find his Angelica, a mortal woman chosen by Jehovah to be by his side. But his chosen partner, Rachel, has lived under oppression and fear, and she has her own ideas of what she wants - ideas that don't include Gabriel.

Terminal World by Alastair Reynolds

On a dying earth, society is separated by zones in which the laws of reality shift, allowing for different levels of technology and life. At the top of Spearpoint, the only surviving city, lies the Celestial zone, in which only angels can survive. Quillon, former angel who's had his wings removed and body changed so he can survive and infiltrate the lower zones, has been in hiding for years when he receives a warning that his former people are hunting him. Forced on the run, Quillon must leave Spearpoint for the dangerous wastes beyond, where he will discover ancient secrets of his world.

Space angels

Dust by Elizabeth Bear

In a dying spaceship, orbiting an equally dying sun, noblewoman Perceval waits for her own gruesome death. Having been captured by an opposing house, her wings severed and life forfeit, Perceval’s execution is imminent - until a young servant charged with her care proves to be Perceval’s long lost sister. To stop a war between houses likely to doom them all, the two flee together across a crumbling, dangerous spaceship. At its core waits Jacob Dust, god and angel, all that remains of what the ship once was. And he wants Perceval. Sapphic and asexual characters, however be prepared for kinda fucked up relationships.

The Outside by Ada Hoffman*

AKA the book the put me in an existential crisis. Souls are real, and they are used to feed AI gods in this lovecraftian inspired sci-fi where reality is warped and artificial gods stand against real, unfathomable ones. Autistic scientist Yasira is accused of heresy and, to save her eternal soul, is recruited by cybernetic ‘angels’ to help hunt down her own former mentor, who is threatening to tear reality itself apart. Sapphic main character.

The Genesis of Misery by Neon Yang

Space opera inspired by Joan of Arc. Misery Nomaki possesses rare stone-working abilities usually found among only saints and the voidmad. Not believing herself the be former and desperately not wanting to become the latter, Misery is trying to keep a low profile. Her attempt fails when the voice of an angel - or a very convincing delusion - leads her to become the centerpiece of a dangerous battle between two warring factions hoping to use her. Very unique and cool conceptually, but a little all over the place in how it handles its plot.

Bonus AKA I haven’t read these yet but they seem really cool

Dusk in Kalevia by Emily Compton

Toivo Valonen is a secret agent in more ways than one. An angel masquerading as human, he's acted as a source of hope for humanity in wartime throughout history. In 1960, he embarks on an undercover mission to Kalevia, allied with a rebellion against the government. In his way is fellow angel and rival agent Demyan Chernyshev, who’s working for the KGB.

The House of Shattered Wings by Aliette de Bodard

Having just barely survived the Great Houses War, much of Paris lies in ruins. Morningstar, founder of the House Silverspires, has gone missing, and something is stalking the people within the House's walls. Three people, a Fallen, an alchemist, and a man wielding spells from the far east, may be prove to be Silverspire's salvation.

The Worst Perfect Moment by Shivaun Plozza

Young adult. Sixteen-year-old Tegan is dead and i heaven. There, she's supposed to be reliving her happiest memory. Except the moment Tegan has been placed in isn't very happy at all. Guided by an angel, Tegan is brought through her past to understand what most matters to her. If she fails to see the happiness in her assigned memory, the consequences would be dire for both her and the angel.

Honorary mentions AKA these didn't really work for me but maybe you guys will like them: The Library of the Unwritten by A.J. Hackwith, City of Bones by Cassandra Clare, Hush, Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick, Sandman Slim by Richard Kadrey

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Another anon had said something about the “fighter fighters” episode with both the cat Stan and payphone au. If the payphone keeps showing up at random times would it be more in line with the humor of gravity falls if this old tourist trap man absolutely refuses to answer the phone - only communicating by snail mail and the like. It’s not that weird because Stan lies and says he’s pushing seventy so “text me a photo? Kid you’re not even speaking English” wouldn’t be too far. They just think he’s especially technically inept. Until….well Mabel gets smart and wants to help her ridiculous old Grunkle call back the old lady(lazy Susan) at the diner he keeps flirting with. And obviously they can’t use the one at the shack because what if Ford is making him self conscious! Dipper always teases her about her dates (even if he’s almost always right ie puppet dude, Norman the stack of gnomes, and not the boy band but she figured that one out soon enough) so they have to use a payphone - romance needs privacy and mystery to bloom after all!

but also what if….

what if it never gave up

it’s been about 30 years

:)

Surely Stan can humor his favorite niece just for once right?

:)

Be a good Grunkle? He can do something as simple as that…..

:)

ohoho! I'm loving Stan's trauma being disguised as 'old man refuses to get with the times'. (I was already planning to include Stan's brand new phone trauma in ppbb, so you nailed it there). By the time the twins roll around Stan's firmly in letters, emails, or nothing. Not even Fiddleford's fancy portable phones are spared his suspicion and anxiety. Hilarious if the only quick way Stan will contact people is like, crystal balls. Technology has failed him but Ford taught him a cool trick where he throws some leaves in some water, says a name, and now he's looking through a mirror or something at whoever he called.

Really adds to his mysterious persona.

(on that thread Gideon calls and Stan doesn't even answer. The home phone is for other people, Stan tries to pretend it doesn't exist. Has Soos answer it and relay messages for him)

Now back to the Entity :)

Hmm. I'm thinking you're so right. This thing isn't human and exists on a plane parallel to theirs, so it has the time and patience (no, its stubborn. It wants to finish this meal >:() to bide its time, strike when Stan least expects it.

Now the question is if Mabel is close enough to also get snatched, or if she watches Stan take a deep breath, dial a number, then vanish from existence.

In the latter Mabel watches slack jawed, then rushes to get Ford or Dipper to help her rescue Stan from the phone that kidnapped him! Instantly throwing Ford into a panic as he scrambles to track and drag Stan back onto their plane of existence. Stan's retraumatized, and potentially slightly digested as he never leaves home without being warded but over the years might have gotten lazy with it, wore less, let some fade, etc. He's still in one piece but coated in goo and out of it. Gets dragged home and hosed down, then lectured by a worried Ford about proper ward maintenance.

In the former Stan is using his body as a shield, clutching her to his chest both so Mabel can't see the crushing darkness all around them, and so she's not getting hit with anything that's leaking through the frizzled wards. Spends the whole time giving her all kinds of reassurances, that everythings going to be OK, that this has happened to him before, and all they need to do is wait for Ford. Ford knows what to do, it'll be fine. They just have to hold on.

Meanwhile the Entity... doesn't really like this new flavor? Sure Mabels terrified and thats great, but she hasn't been marinating in hopelessness and misery for years and years. She's young, optimistic, and has a joyful outlook towards life.

Its kinda gross and ruining the experience of finally getting a taste of Stan's deep rooted misery (Stan's doing much better now too, which isn't helping) Its waited thirty years, and its pretty disappointing, having it mixed like this. Normally it'd spit Mabel out, but with the ward in the way all it can do is sit there and try to power through it, hopefully wear the wards down and get at the one human it hasn't been able to snatch and spit out the other.

Thankfully Ford, king of paranoia even after all theses years, notices pretty quickly that his Stan alert has gone off, and Stan's in danger. Isn't too worried at first, because Stan's constantly putting himself in danger, but as time goes on and Ford realizes it isn't stopping, his other methods of tracking Stan's safety aren't working, and he hasn't been able to contact Stan through any of their established modes since Stan won't use a phone.

Rushes to track Stan down and yanks him from the stomach. Again. Any anger he has dies at the combined terrified faces of Mabel and Stan, and he drags them home and hoses them both down, then gives her and Dipper a pg version of the thing thats been trying to eat Stan for thirty years, and how its the reason Stan won't use phones.

Mabel is mostly fine, especially when she gets reassured that she wasn't the target and wouldn't ever be with her cheery personality, then also decides to never use pay phones ever. Cell phones are on thin ice.

[fallingskiesandrisingseas]

Today, Peter Pevensie after Narnia.

---------------------------------------------------

Peter has severe body dysmorphia when he comes back.

He used to be strong, reliable. Able to pick up his sister with one hand and fence with the other one. He prided himself on it, had arm wrestling contests with minotaurs and centaurs.

The first time he walks down the stairs he falls flat on his face. He's not used to his legs being half a foot shorter than they used to be.

His teachers don't understand how he turned into such a mess. He was normal, right? He was normal before he was sent away?

They talk of the way war hurts young children. They don't know just how true that is.

Peter cannot find his scars anymore. His body is soft, the skin unbroken. It fosters a rage in him so loud that teachers have to scold him every week. He fights with class bullies all the time. They gang up on him. They usually lose. They eventually stop trying.

Peter fights with honour, though. Closed fists, never below the belt, no permanent damage. If he gets the chance he will even take off his lion rings.

Long nights crying are replaced by sessions in the gym. Peter has pride like a wounded lion, will not let himself be pushed around. He gets used to his new body, makes it strong. Others worry over this obsession with strenght.

His siblings know it is because he has to regain an identity all by himself. Sure, they were royalty too, but he was the High King, Commander of the Armies, Emperor of the Lone Islands. He was the face of their court, the man behind the flag.

Others brought more back from Narnia then he did. Lucy has dancing, Edmund has chess, Susan has diplomacy and her silver tongue.

Peter had his crown, his country, his duties and his sword. Peter, even when stranded on a lone island, always had his wit and his strenght.

All that is lost in England, where he is not allowed to speak before his father, where he no longer has authority. He has to respect teachers talking about war while he knows they never fought.

He sits in the front of class still. He learns to hide the snarl, the comeback, the lazy sarcasm that fits a High King but not a 14 year old kid. Stops challenging his teachers verbally. He adjusts. His curiosity never leaves him, and his manners, he reminds himself, shouldn't neither.

He's cunning and clever and articulates himself well. Teachers often feel the need to call him arrogant, but he isn't that.

He's confident and secure, doesn't seem to suffer from teenage angst. He has endured loss, that they know. But they haven't a clue what he lost.

Peter is insufferable for the first 2 months he comes back from Caspian's Narnia. A kingdom, gone. Even with Aslan's words this is a hard lesson.

Then he becomes a man no one knew he could be.

Peter doesn't back down from bullies or harsh teachers. Peter doesn't ask for justice, he demands it.

Peter is brave. Two weeks after he's back, he sees a vet begging in the streets, harassed by a group of young men. He jumps in, comes home with a tooth missing and his knuckles bloodied.

When the vet is admitted to the hospital, no one believes the stories he tells. He says he saw a 15-year old veteran. The look in his eyes gave it away, he assures his physicians. That's a war look.

Peter is much more aware than he seems, can burn right through you with his glares. He takes critique seriously, but doesn't do well with disrespect, no matter who it's from.

Teachers hate that.

Despite this, kids like Peter, eventually. He's popular. Adults listen to him, which is strange. Not many 14 year old kids can command a room the way he can. They gravitate towards him, somehow.

It helps he grows tall faster than seems possible and walks so straight that it adds inches to his height. It helps he tells stories so vividly they almost come alive before their eyes. It helps he is cool under pressure, self-assured, broadshouldered. He's pious, goes to church every Sunday.

Peter settles eventually, a little slower than Susan and Edmund but before Lucy. He discovers the fencing club and immediately becomes the most talented member by a distance. Three weeks after he joins he beats the instructor. It makes him easier to manage, takes the edge of him.

He likes to quip while fencing. It's sometimes quite dark.

He's helpful though. His classmates don't take offence; Peter tells often and gladly of his instructor, a man named Oreius. He makes it sound like he was the greatest fencer in the country, always calls him "swordmaster".

He's often archaic with his speech like that.

His teachers are glad that the anger has faded. He's become better at many things, they discuss among themselves. An excellent writer, a brilliant fencer. A very strong debater. Peter, they conclude, makes sure things get done. The makings of a leader.

Peter likes languages. He's the one that remembers Narnian the best, uses it to learn a few other tongues. He likes sailing, and riding horses. His academic performances always improve after physical exercise, he can feel his brain speed up when the blood is flowing. Stories about who taught him that, who taught ALL the Pevensies that, circulate widly. Peter smiles when he hears he must've been recruited by MI6. He doesn't fight the allegations.

Women take a liking to him as he ages. He has "old-time charm", they say, even though they don't understand exactly what that means.

Chivalrous. That's the word they look for often. When they find out he can dance too, all of them fall head over heels. Peter is never smug about it, always remains polite. He doesn't kiss and tell.

He talks to his sisters and brother often.

Edmund seems like his shadow, but Peter never treats him like a little brother. He respects his input, often asks him for advice. Many are astonished when they find out Edmund is only 11 years old. They don't bicker. He dances with Lucy, talks deeply and seriously with Susan.

The Pevensies are close, and Peter is the oldest brother. He behaves like that, too.

He is the first to sign up for the war effort, eager to defend his nation and his family. But despite doing very well in selection, he doesn't get a frontline position. His skills, his supervisors decide, are better put to use elsewhere. He's too good to be cannon fodder.

Lucy and Edmund are secretely somewhat glad when he leaves to work with Susan in the States after he turns 19. Getting a date is very hard when Peter Pevensie is your older brother. And the States are safe.

Potential partners tend to be a little ... intimidated around him. Golden child, blond hair, 6"3, built like a brick, VERY protective of them, and fencing champion; Peter is a lot. He's disarming when you get to know him, but still.

They never liked Peter in the front lines, anyway.

Narnia never leaves his mind. Back from America with a BA in History and work experience from a secret service, he has dinner with the Friends of Narnia, sees the spectre, goes to find the rings.

He dies happy.

[nthspecialll]

Something that rips me apart while being in camp is seeing Abigail and how little she interacts with the others. Most of the characters have interactions or encounters with other characters where they tell their story, fool around or just socialize. It is every day chit chatter, but not Abigail. Abigail's few only encounters are shouting at the campfire that being a mother sucks, talking to John about their child, Susan telling her to take up sex work or Micah trynna hit on her.

She has events, but none of them are as light hearted as Mary-Beth and Karen discussing a romantic curse, Bill praising Javier to the heavens to Sean because of a Job, a bigger group singing songs or Hosea giving advice.

Even in the two events she has with other girls that are nice, she is being a provider, she is being a mother, not to Jack but to the girls as she comforts them.

A lot of the times she will also sit on her own by the tent next to Jack, whereas a lot of the others will be sitting by the fireplace, even if they aren't talking, they are socializing.

She is similar to the gang, yet so different because she is a mother. Yes she is a theif like Mary-Beth, but she is also a mom. Yes, she is an attractive catch like Karen, but she is also a mom. There is a rift there that none of the other characters can relate to and because of that she gets isolated even if it isn't intentionally.

It really breaks my heart to see, often times she also sounds so damn tired when you speak to her or when you hear her muttering "what would I do without you?" to Jack.

Another thing that makes it worse is the fact she has zero support, there is no one there for her. There is a chance of her coming up to ask Arthur for five dollars because she needs to clothe her child yet John won't help. She carries a completely different burden and worry from the others, that they would not relate to. The only one who can is Arthur, because he too has had a child.

Arthur does help whereever he can, taking the role of John the best he can because he is a provider, but it is still quite clear there is a line that the two of them don't cross. Both of them know that John is meant to care for Abigail because he got her pregnant and it is his responsibility, and especially in this time period there really is this idea of "he is meant to help, so he will," the problem is though that John doesn't help, so Abigail is left on her own. Arthur only steps in in the worst times when she truely is at rock bottom.

[emo-trash101]

Okay well now it’s on my mind. Hcs for stoner!rodrick Heffley??? 🙏🙏

Uh so this gave me the most random boos of energy so there will probably be like 2-3 other Rodrick requests coming out soon so stay tuned y'all. Also I didn't know if you wanted like, romantic or just general headcannons, so I did both

Stoner!Rodrick Heffley x reader

Pronouns: second person

Tw: Stoner Rodrick Heffley, uh weed and my odd knowledge on weed

General

- So first off, DOAWK is believed to take place in Massachusetts, so that's where all the technical stuff is gonna be coming in from

- But regardless, I feel like he would smoke mostly for like medicinal reasons (mainly anxiety)

- but if he's with friends or at a party (or just really bored) he'll smoke recreationally

- He'd probably go for more of an Indica (a physical high) or maybe a hybrid for anxiety.

- But he'd definitely go with a Sativa (mental high) for recreational use.

- I feel like a lot of people would assume that he'd be like a dealer or something but I feel like bro would be horrible at it

- Tbh he probably wouldn't even be a good pusher.

- He just vibes out with the weed

- He has like copious amounts of candles and sprays meant to specifically cover up smoke smells

- but then it just smells like weed mixed with chemicals and sugar

- Susan has found his weed stash and had a whole conversation with him about drug safety, and to be safe and compliant with the laws. (After like, lecturing him to hell)

- I feel like his preferred method would probably be a bowl of he's by himself, but if he's smoking with friends or probably a joint (just cause he hates sharing his bowl)

- This is partially because last time he shared his bowl with his band, one of them took a hit and coughed so hard they dropped it and it shattered

- Speaking of that, dude probably smokes brick weed

- He's too broke to afford the other types.

- When he's on Indica bro is out like a light, he is never gonna be conscious again

- But him on Sativa is like a whole different story

- He's like, the most stereotypical high in the world

- Stupid pointless laughter and then he'll just be like "Yo...why is water wet?"

Romantic

- PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TEACH THIS MAN TO COVER UP THE SMELL 🙏🙏🙏

- He doesn't know it but those candles and sprays are making it worse, for like Christmas please get him one of those essential oil humidifiers to get rid of the smell.

- He'll always offer to you, but he'll never force you to smoke to be with him

- He does get hardcore clingy when he's high

- It's a lot more evident with Sativas, like he'll be all giggly and then just whip out the world's dumbest pick up line you've ever heard.

- However if he's on Indica or Hybrid dude is just suffocating laying on top of you

- You are his snack supplier

- I feel like he'd have the worst case of munchies known to man every time he gets high, so be prepared to be driving him to 7/11 to get copious amounts of snacks

- He's always so sweet though, even when he's high AF.

Y'all the amount of time I've been waiting to pull out my odd knowledge on weed is honestly longer than I thought. Hope you enjoyed though

Make sure you eat food and drink water

[magnuspanoptes]

MAG 81 - "A Guest for Mr Spider // True Detective S01E01 - "The Long Bright Dark" // Judith L. Herman, Trauma and Recovery // MAG 157 - "Rotten Core" // MAG 39 - "Infestation" // MAG 3 - "Across the Street" // Susan J. Brison, Aftermath // MAG 130 - "Meat" // MAG 142 - "Scrutiny" // MAG 141 - "Doomed Voyage" // True Detective S01E05 - "The Secret Fate of All Life" // MAG 195 - "Adrift"

so like, a particularly repulsive thing about the eye (and the institute, since it's the primary site of this exchange) is that it assists with the very thing most people have difficulty with - the ability to verbalise their traumatic experience. and speaking about what happened can help them come to terms with it and begin the process of recovery, except in the world of the magnus archives this is the very thing that gets you. the institute is advertised as a centre where people can find answers for the traumatic incident that keeps haunting them (and it's a literal haunting, because ghosts and monsters are real). so many statements begin with some variation of "i need to tell someone what happened" and "[they] suggested i talk to your institute", it lures them in with that promise of potential understanding and closure and it does work for a bit there, the eye's "clarifying influence" allows statement givers to construct a proper narrative of what happened to them, an incident that was previously both unspeakable (it's a ghost story, who else is going to believe them?) and incomprehensible. which is why many describe it as a cathartic experience. of course most of them just die because the entity they crossed paths with wasn't quite finished with them yet, but the ones that survive don't get to walk away from it. whatever nightmares they had now recur with an even greater intensity, and memory doesn't really work like a film reel, but beholding can make it so—the dreams aren't simply reconstructions anymore, instead the victim will relive every painful detail of that event for the rest of their life. jon (and all his predecessors) is implicated in this right from s1. plus telling traumatised people to their faces that you don't believe them; that yes, they are mad; nothing happened—is not inconsequential behaviour and he's responsible for having caused some real harm, long before he became an avatar.

and. this is the same trap that catches jon. he joined the institute because of a guest for mr spider, he was invited there with the promise of answers, and what he got instead was a vivid re-enactment of that traumatic memory, this time as an apparently willing participant, as the spider ate all his assistants and then him too.