#and immediately knowing: susans in trouble

[accidental-spice]

I'm on one of my FAVORITE scenes in The Restorer and I cannot post pages because it will literally just be the WHOLE chapter, but oh GOSH

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I Hate The New Hero!

Pt 3: How bad can a day get?

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 (You're here) - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10

Tim gazes at you. He doesn’t know what to do or feel.

He hates you, he really does, but at the same time he kind of enjoyed the afternoon with you. If you put aside the arguments and such it was kind of fun being in your presence.

He’s conflicted, he should hate you – you’ve done bad things in the past and you hate Aranea! But, hanging out with you gives him some kind of weird feeling – euphoria fills him when you make a sarcastic comment in jest or when you chuckle at one of his jokes.

There were times you both fought but it felt nice to see you come back into the room and not just leave – his parents tended to leave for the whole night if they got into an argument and he’d have to stay in his estate alone.

He watches as you sleep peacefully, you’re in the lower age part of his class – with you being sixteen and he seventeen – yet you look so much more youthful while sleeping, your face isn’t in a scowl or bored look, you look content.

Tim slowly gets up from the bed and looks around the small, cramped room. It's easy for anyone to feel claustrophobic and it feels wrong for someone to live in it who acts like how you usually do.

His attention is drawn to the toy chest in one corner, curiosity fighting with respect to open it. One peak wouldn't hurt and surely you wouldn't find out.

He walks over, one of the floorboards creaking, it was only two steps but felt longer for him. He opens the chest. As he stares down at it's contents he's filled with disappointment.

In the chest there's only diaries, metal and engineering bits and pieces. He guesses he should have expected this, you're a civilian, you wouldn't be hiding anything to begin with.

His eye catches on a childish diary decorated in stickers and press on jewels. Before his mind can register what he's doing he picks it up and turns it over in his hands a couple times, examining it.

The date goes back twelve years. So you'd be about four at the time. There's nothing to hide so he opens it - a sneak peak never hurt anyone.

Diary entry 1:

Today I got this diary from my mama! I can decorate it however I want! Mama said it's my birthday gift, I wanted a stuffed toy but this works too! I don't want to disappoint my mama by saying I don't like it!

My neighbor, Susan, is helping me write this! I love her, she's very old and wrinkly and I think she is going to turn to dust. Which is sad.

Bye now!

The first thing Tim noticed was the messy handwriting. It was endearing in a way to see it. The next was the way you spoke about Susan. It was blunt but it seemed you liked her.

He goes to turn another page when he hears the front door of the apartment open and talking entering the once quiet apartment.

He quickly places the diary where it was before and he packs away everything. He debates putting you into the bed before deciding that you're fine.

He walks out and is immediately met with a plate smashing the wall next to him as a frazzled man stands in the kitchen, cowering almost. Tim puts his hands up slightly to show he's harmless and the man's stiff form eases slightly.

The man raises his hands and signs out a sentence.

"What are you doing in my apartment?"

Tim raises a brow, should he sign back or just talk? After some consideration he decides to sign back.

"Your child and I are partners on a project for school"

The man's eyes darken slightly at the mention of his daughter - or who Tim guesses was his child, they bare some resemblance.

"So my child is a slut like her mother then?"

Tim stares, jaw dropped. No fucking way he just said that. Tim shakes his head.

"No, of course not! We had to do a poster!" He states, he doesn't bother with the sign language, the man didn't seem to be deaf judging by the scar on his throat.

The man points to the door before signing.

"You better go right now before my wife punishes you! As it is my child is in trouble!"

Tim, not wanting to cause a fight or scandal, walks to the door and leaves. He wonders how your father is going to "punish you", clearly you had to have been spoiled by someone to end up so rude - even if you were fun to hang out with for those hours.

Tim gets to the front of the apartment and gets into the car waiting for him. One thought was one his mind however:

Are you as bad as they all assumed you to be?

----

You wake up the next day to your dad and mother standing above you angrily. Not a good way to start the day and you had to sort out your red eyes before people asked if you'd been crying.

Heading to school was as uneventful as Gotham gets and when you get to the front gate you realize your two friends aren't at school today. Great. Your day is the best!

You debate sneaking back home and going on a day patrol, maybe running into Signal, though you hope not. He's nice and all but he along with the other Batman lackeys and Batman himself give you bad vibes, they set off your spider senses and cause you to feel icky when in their presence.

Before you can make a decision you hear your name being called out and Tim walking up to you with a serious expression. You think you're going to barf - now that you think about it, Tim gives you the same reaction Red Robin gives you - a feeling of anger and motion sickness.

Each vigilante gives a different type of icky feeling so it's crazy you haven't noticed Tim giving you the same feeling.

It's not your business though so you won't think about it further.

"Did you bring the poster?" He asks, his arms crossed over his chest as he looks to you in slight annoyance. "Duh. It's in my bag." You respond, rolling your eyes and handing him the poster.

He hums and puts it in his bag and you raise a brow. You won't question why he did it, probably just wanted the credit of handing it in.

With that you head to your first class of the day: Engineering.

[fanonical]

look people who've been around here for a while know exactly how i feel about the early doctor who serial edge of destruction but i rewatched it recently and i have feelings

so edge of destruction is the third ever serial of doctor who, right? it's an unearthly child, the daleks, then edge of destruction. and it's also kind of a bottle episode. edge of destruction is a two-parter, and is set entirely on the tardis featuring only the main cast

the plot is weird. everyone wakes up in the tardis with confusion and memory loss, not knowing what's going on. the tardis isn't safe, and strange things are happening. the ship seems to be malfunctioning, but there's nothing notably wrong with it. everyone's freaking out and accusing each other of sabotaging the tardis or hurting each other

now, as i said, this is early doctor who. companions barbara and ian had been kidnapped by the doctor and susan so they don't tell anyone that time travel is real, and at this point they don't trust the doctor and the doctor doesn't trust them. the doctor immediately starts accusing barbara and ian of sabotaging the ship to force him to take them home, which they angrily refute. they've spent the last two stories saving the doctor and susan from whatever's trying to kill them

barbara has a speech here which is brilliant and i can quote verbatim. 'do you realise, you stupid old man, that you'd have died in the cave of skulls if ian hadn't made fire for you? and what about what we went through against the daleks? not just for us, but for you and susan too. and all because you tricked us into going down to the city. accuse us? you ought to go down on your hands and knees and thank us! but gratitude's the last thing you'll ever have, or any sort of common sense either'

and the doctor spends the whole two episodes either accusing ian and barbara of being evil or being wholly unhelpful. (he straight up drugs everyone with a sedative at one point!) yeah, turns out the tardis is trying to tell them what's wrong via cryptic clues, and barbara's putting the pieces together. and the doctor still doesn't listen to her! she's so close to figuring it out and saving them all - they're all gonna die in about ten minutes and the doctor's basically given up, but barbara's trying to solve the problem

and in the end, they have the eureka moment and get out of trouble, but barbara's still understandably pissed. that is, until the doctor takes the time to apologise to her and tell her that yeah, she was right and he's sorry he didn't listen to her and he's going to do better to respect her opinions in future. they go into the next serial as friends, a first for the series to that point

so why do i love this weird little two-parter so much? because it is the moral centre of modern doctor who. this is the start of the characterisation of the doctor that we know and love. before this, the doctor is ruthless! he tries to kill a guy with a rock! he sabotages the tardis to satisfy his curiosity and lands everyone in danger from the daleks! he drugs them just because he doesn't trust them! he thinks he's smarter, better, and more important than the people he travels with

but then barbara stands up to him. she tells him that, no, she and ian are important too. and no, they're worth listening to. and yes, they can help and are worth something. and that's important, because barbara and ian are way more compassionate than the doctor is at this point. they want to help people they come across even if it means putting their own lives in danger.

sound familiar? yeah, the doctor's whole thing of helping everyone they come across and compassion towards everyone starts here. this is one of the most enduring things about the doctor and it would never have happened without barbara telling the doctor he's full of shit

and it's all because he listened to an ordinary woman

[scoutswritingcorner]

More Papa Headcanons!

PLATONIC Papa!Alastor & GN!Child!Reader

Angst Flavored~

First Part

TW: ANGST- Just a teeny tiny bit. For the soul. Oh and Susan is mentioned.

A/N: Enjoy~

I usually leave this part up to you guys, the readers of my ramblings, but what if you were born out of wedlock? You are technically Alastor’s bastard child. Especially during that time period? That was greatly frowned upon and you never knew who your mother was! But despite all of that, Alastor and his Mom adored you. (Don’t get me wrong she probably chewed his ass out for it but she adored you.) 

Now, as you grew older people started saying it to your face, even kids at your school. But everytime you brought it up to Alastor he got angry, not at you, so he teaches you how to defend yourself and makes sure that you know to never start a fight. 

But once in hell, the name still sticks. Susan once overheard Alastor and Rosie’s conversation about it and called you that to your face. (Mean ass old woman right there.) And to say you were upset was an understatement, you knew better than to get into adult’s business but you just ran to your Papa sobbing cause you had thought you escaped that treatment. Despite being in Hell. You’re just clinging to his pants as you try your darndest not to cry but gosh the words keep echoing, both Rosie and Alastor are immediately worried about you. Cause you never cry or cause too much trouble!

Once they hear what Susan said? Rosie has to keep Alastor from flipping his lid. You stay by his side the rest of the day too scared to go play with the other kids in Cannibal Town. It shouldn’t bother you too much but you’ve been called that your entire few years of living and now it’s followed you down to Hell? What if the others start doing such a thing? 

Not to worry, Auntie Rosie shuts the whole thing down if she even catches a whiff of it. 

NOW ONTO NICER THINGS-

Full credit to @aceblaze01 for the idea of Vox being in Child!Reader’s afterlife! Especially when he and Alastor were hanging out(idk if I should call them partners). He was like an odd Uncle to you! Also 100% would let you watch kids cartoons on his screen, but you were so confused by it that you stood there staring at him before finally getting comfortable to sit down and watch those weird picture shows your papa talked about. He would totally put on Disney films for you. 

You watched Bambi once and ended up crying. He had to hold you and calm you down before Alastor was alerted. After that he stuck with everything else but Bambi. 

You sometimes go with Alastor to Overlord meetings and sit next to him drawing, not paying any mind to what’s going on either. You mostly draw your Papa and Auntie Rosie but you’ve started to draw Vox and that man cries when you hand him the drawings of him with very shaky handwriting and misspelled words. He loves it and keeps it hung up on his wall framed and everything. You gave a drawing to a lot of the nicer Overlords as a thank you for letting you join with your Papa. You gave one to Zestial, Carmilla and many of the unnamed ones that didn’t look too scary..you gave those to your Papa so he can give it to them. 

Even after all those years and Alastor’s falling out with Vox as a whole, he kept your drawings still safely framed. He doesn’t have the heart to get rid of them. Valentino said one bad thing about them and got the shock of his afterlife. That’s the last time he brought it up. He still checks up on you, makes sure you're alright. Even though he can’t physically be next to you cause Alastor would lose his fucking shit, he makes sure he has people check up on you. 

Vox has killed people who even thought of putting a hit out on you before Alastor ever caught wind about it. He’s not a man to play around with when it comes to you- his little niece/nephew/nibling (gender neutral term for niece/nephew).

During exterminations? Alastor stays with you the whole time. He doesn’t need anything hurting you. He keeps you in his room with books and anything else you want to bring. When you're in the hotel and extermination is around the corner, while the hotel is relatively safe. He still makes sure you stay far away from any doors leading to the outside. 

Oh boy, you are the only one able to sit in his tower with him while he works! He has a chair designated for you and will answer any and all questions about his work (even if they do get silly and repetitive). You’ll fall asleep sometimes when he’s on air and he doesn’t miss a beat wrapping his jacket around you as he continues to talk.

Taglist: @littledolly2345, @aboyscriminalrecord

[was-that-a-pun]

Hear me out!Hear me out!....What if Susan or Greg (may both) fall in the dough instead of Jack and become Concept!Doey. Honestly, it can be linked to the Detective Susan au cuz in the process of saving Jack, they sacrifice themselves ...

I hear you and I love you.

This took me so long to decide on how this au would go but I finally settled on something. I think it's its own separate thing from the detective au.

Okay so in this AU Susan and George are standing closer to Jack during the tour, close enough for Susan to hear the metal stressing when Jack leans against the handrail. She's starting to say something when it gives and she jolts forward grabbing him and tossing him back onto the walkway but falling herself. George grabs her arm but the momentum and weight pull him right over the edge with her.

Chaos, sobbing, alarms, a bunch of press releases from Playtime about this unfortunate tragedy and their efforts to ensure nothing like this ever happens again.

Jack, once all is said and done, is released to Playcare and joins the other orphans. Michael takes him under his wing cause of course he does he's like that with nearly all the new kids. Kevin also bonds with him. While Jack isn't as laid back as Joseph is he also doesn't hold any accidents or outbursts Kevin might have against him and continuously seeks him out to play with.

Some time later Jack is pulled from Playcare by a group of scientists to 'help them' with something they wont elaborate on and he's escorted to a new area he's never been to before and told they just need him to go into this room here.

This is a lot sooner than 1322 Report: Jack vhs happens in canon, since with two full grown adults making up concept!Doey they're much more stable without needing to add anyone else into the mix. But this is still soon enough after the accident. They've only barely started to pull themselves together and are struggling to sort out what parts of them is who and what now is mixed too much into the whole and how to think.

“Um… Hi, um...Doey?!”

*shifting sound no reaction*

“The doctors said my mom and dad would be here? Do you know where they are Doey?...mr.doey >_>”

*Susan and George’s thoughts start to align that the voice talking to them is familiar and all their attention goes into turning their head to look at him*

“Can I tell you a secret though? I think they got mixed up I...I know what happened. I know mom and dad are gone now. I miss them though Mr. Doey. I shoulda stayed closer to em, shoulda listened better. I *sniffle* I know it was my fault.”

*Finally manages to look at him and recognize that this is definitely their son. Immediately starts struggling to move toward him wanting to comfort him*

“J-jackie?!”

“I- yeah! That’s what my mom calls me! How did you know?”

*struggling and sloshing to get off the hospital bed and closer to him*

“Dad – Mom – me. Not – gone...here we’re – here”

*Jack is silent as he tries to sort out what they mean, not running as they slog toward him.*

“our bbbooyyy”

*It finally clicks for him and he’s instantly tearing up*

“Wait but you, how, mom? Dad? Both of you are?”

*Just before they can put a hand to his cheek and pull him into a hug an alarm sounds and the room fills with red smoke in a rush, Jack drops almost instantly and is rushed out by gas masked employees while Doey rages and tries to keep them from taking him.*

Jack is returned to Playcare like nothing had happened, he knows it wasn’t a dream though and tells Matthew and Kevin what happened and that he’d gonna get out and find him parents.

They assume it’s the usual fantasy kids tend to have when they’re first orphaned, your dead parents turning out not to actually be dead (though turning into your favorite toy is a new spin) and humor him. Matthew encourages him not to do anything too dangerous while Kevin helps him to plan his escape (partially because if he’s involved he can help the kid from getting hurt or in too much trouble)

The rest plays out a lot like @universalrainbows Toy Player saves Jack side AU with Doey escaping containment and sneaking around the edges of Playcare for awhile (meeting and starting friendships with other characters like Miss Delight who gives them updates on Jack and Dogday who even before them had fed the boys a few tips on how to get out. Catnap is still a danger and they avoid him at all costs) When Jack, Matthew, and Kevin escape Playcare they’re almost waiting for them (much to Matthew and Kevin's' surprise once they find out Jack was right) and of course even before they see these two other boys they’ve pulled an ��it’s free real estate’ and designated them as bonus son’s.

Escape proves difficult, but they’re able to find areas in the caverns where they can stay relatively safe and keep the boys healthy, then start quietly saving more toys and children that they can slip through the cracks of Playtime's notice.

By the time of the Hour Of Joy they’ve established an early safe haven and food sources (I didn’t come up with how so we’re just gonna gloss over that) and by the time of the current game Safe Haven in the location we know it is much more populated by a mix of toys and young adults who had once been orphans and is much more stable and better defended.

[verdemoun]

tilly jackson, my beloved. arthur and tilly's relationship. oldest sibling vs oldest daughter. big protective 'we all love you miss tilly' brother meets calls him out on his shit 'mary ain't worth it' sister.

of course, it wasn't always like that. like, imagine. tilly jackson, kidnapped from her mother by the foremans at age 12. held captive by them for long enough that people forget she was a victim and refer to them as a gang she ran with. only escaping by murdering the leader (which she openly states she will never feel bad for, because he was bad. treated her real bad). finding out her mother died while she was kidnapped. falling into trouble, alone, until dutch found her.

tilly jackson, the sweetest and saddest little thing they ever saw. rescuing herself from one gang only to be taken in by another. early days (early enough for dutch to have the time to teach her to read). post-marston, so arthur's well into his 20s. imagine arthur, with his stupid tough guy persona and an established role as the gang's enforcer, trying to tell young tilly that she'll be expected to work if she's going to be a member of their gang. tilly immediately shutting down with a vacant, dead-eyed stare, remembering the foremans.

miss grimshaw, the only other woman in the gang, pulling her close as she slaps arthur hard for being so goddamned dull. arthur, rubbing his arm that is definitely going to bruise, still taking far too long to understand the implication before panicking. tilly watching this six foot man built like a brick wall trip over his words as he frantically apologises because jesus christ he didn't mean that. he'll kill anyone who ever even looks at her like that, he swears, as he fidgets anxiously because susan grimshaw is glaring like she's going to kill him but also he's now painfully aware that he is a massive intimidating adult man who doesn't know how to not look scary to a traumatized teenage girl.

tilly jackson slowly breaking into a smile and giggling because not only does she realize this is this big, scary, fellow child of dutch van der linde is harmless, maybe a touch dumb at times, but 'oh no, i have to protect him'.

[ladykailitha]

A Love Connection Part 2

Hey guys! Did you miss me? LOL!

Just a heads up this chapter is a little angsty because we have get Steve desperate enough to try going on a game show. But have no fear, it doesn't last long.

Also in this Susan Mayfield never marries Neil Hargrove, but she moves to Hawkins because her job moved her there. So Billy and Max aren't step-siblings.

Part 1

~

Steve nearly had a panic attack right there in the car when Chrissy screamed. There wasn’t a crisis. Or at least not one that needed immediate attention. What it was, was their little drunk text about #needsmoregays at A Love Connection went viral. There were actual fucking news articles. Yeah, the first was from Pink News, but the rest? Actual fucking trades. Variety, Dateline, even The Hollywood Reporter, for fuck’s sake.

Steve was going to pass out, but he managed to get them to the school safely. Thankfully there was nothing on Chrissy profile that was her real name or where she worked. She had a work Twitter for that. And that one was only on her computer at work. She was very careful not to cross the two. So there weren’t any news people out front of the school. But her DMs were filled with requests for comments or even actual interviews.

He decided she could do whatever the hell she wanted, he wasn’t going to get involved in this. She’s the one that drunk tweeted. Yeah, it was because of something he said when he was also drunk. But still!

He also decided ignore Chrissy and Robin at lunch, choosing instead to have it in his classroom to avoid them. Because, yes, he was avoiding them thank you. He just wanted to see gay people have love, too. Last Saturday was a disaster and he wanted proof that gays like he could find love.

Luckily, it was only a nine day wonder and Chrissy’s inbox went back to normal. Or as about as normal as one can get after have a tweet go viral.

They were cruising through the school year, same as always. There were always the super smart kids and the ones that didn’t care about history. So Steve always tried to make it as fun as possible.

Gladiator days where they wrestled stuff animals. Letting the kids stab him in March. Building their own mini pyramids. His hallpass was a gladius for extra fun.

They were gearing up the for Olympic games just before Christmas when Mrs. Byers, the principal pulled him out of his class.

“Hey, Steve,” she said warmly, “you’re not in trouble.”

Steve looked over his shoulder at his class before looking back at her. “Okay...”

She smiled up at him sweetly. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to watch the AV club today after school? Mr. Jenner went home because he’s puking his guts out. Normally I would just cancel, but a couple of the kids are in the club because their parents can’t pick them up until after seven.”

He let out a long sigh. He was going to go home and get ready to go try a new bar Chrissy had found. But now, by the time he got home, showered, and ate it would be too late to go out.

“Yeah, sure, Mrs. Byers,” he said.

“Thank you so much, Steve,” Mrs. Byers said. “Mr. Jenner will be so grateful too.”

Steve nodded and then waited until she walked away to roll his eyes. Nate Jenner’s alcohol problem was the worst kept secret in the school. Even students were aware that there were times he taught drunk. Most kids didn’t know why he would be slurring his words or conked out on his desk; only that they were his ‘bad days’. But the kids who did know? They tended to shield the other kids from the worst of it.

The problem was that Mr. Jenner was two years from retirement and they didn’t want to make him lose his pension. Which Steve thought that he absolutely should. That old coot had no business teaching students like that.

He went back to teaching his class, wondering who they got to cover Mr. Jenner’s classes. He finally got through to the last class and went to the science ‘wing’ of the school. He walked up to Mr. Jenner’s class room and there was Robin coming out of it.

“Now that’s just unfair,” he moaned. “If you were watching his classes, why couldn’t you watch the AV club?”

Robin patted him on the shoulder. “Because I played the dumb blonde routine until Mrs. Byers gave up.” She waved at him as she walked away.

With a sigh, Steve went into the room and began getting out the equipment that they would need. He didn’t know much about radios and shit, but he did know what they did and didn’t need.

He had just gotten set up when the first of the kids arrived.

He wasn’t surprised to see Will come in first. With his mom as principal, all of the teachers tended to tiptoe around him as to not have any ‘misdeeds’ taken back to her, so his last class never went over. Ever.

The next couple of kids to file in were Dustin Henderson and Lucas Sinclair. They both had Robin’s Spanish class last period, so it was no surprise to see them together.

“Sinclair!” Steve said, fist bumping the kid. “What are you doing with these nerds?” He was only joking and they all knew that. Lucas had been friends with Will, Dustin, and their other friend Mike since Dustin moved in in the second grade. Lucas loved history and was one of Steve’s brightest students so he liked to pick on him for his choice of friends.

“Sorry, Coach,” Lucas said with a grin, “if I wasn’t around they’d fall into an uncovered manhole or something.”

Steve gave Dustin their secret handshake, complete with death and everything to make up for the nerd comment. But Dustin and Will took it all in stride. They were used to the teasing.

A couple other kids came in. One spotted Steve and immediately walked back out.

“Some people just aren’t made for fun,” he lamented to the kid’s retreating back. “I’m just too cool for some people’s children. It’s not my fault.”

They all chuckled and then finally the last member of the AV club arrived. Mike Wheeler.

He sighed when he saw Steve, but didn’t turn around. He threw his backpack on the nearest desk and slumped into the chair with a heavy sigh. “Why can’t we get a teaching advisor who isn’t such a flake!”

Steve wiped his brow internally. Mike didn’t like him all the time, so the fact that he was complaining about Mr. Jenner not being there rather than Steve taking his place was a relief, honestly. It meant he wouldn’t be grumpy the whole time.

“All right everyone,” Steve said, clapping his hands together. “Dustin is in charge, Will will take notes for next time. Let’s go!”

The club went as well as could be expected considering Steve really didn’t have any idea of how all this stuff worked.

After class while Steve was waiting on the curb with the ‘Party’ as they called themselves, waiting for their parents to pick them up texting Robin and Chrissy.

“Coach...” Lucas asked, “did we ruin your plans?”

Steve felt a stab in his chest as his head shot up to look the kid in the eye. He looked down at his phone where there were dozens of messages bitching Robin out for leaving him with the AV club because she had a girlfriend and Steve didn’t even have that. Or boyfriend, which was his preference. He had dated women in the past but he liked men more. Or rather liked men full stop. That was certainly a revelation and a half.

He put his phone away with a sigh. “No, Lucas you didn’t. It was due to the irresponsible behavior of Mr. Jenner. He’s the one to blame. I was just a little annoyed at Miss Buckley because she knows this stuff better than I do, but got out of it under false pretenses.” His eyes cut to Will. “Don’t tell your mom I just said that. I don’t want Miss Buckley in trouble.”

Will held up his hands in surrender. Steve nodded.

“I love history and sports and swimming,” he began, he held up his hand to stall whatever words were going to come out that kid’s mouth. “For fun, Dustin. I like swimming for fun, which is why I didn’t include it in sports.”

Dustin huffed and crossed his arms over his chest with a pout.

“I like going out with friends and meeting new people,” Steve finished, “and of course I love teaching you kids. But I look around me and I just see someone who’s stagnated before he’s even thirty.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know why I’m telling a bunch of teenagers this. Sorry.”

Will put his hand in Steve’s. “You’ll find someone. If my mom can find someone at her age, you can find someone, too.”

Steve gave his hand a squeeze and didn’t point out that Mrs. Byers, Joyce had already had two kids and had been divorced by the time she was thirty so it really didn’t count.

Mike’s mom Karen arrived first. Mike just waved goodbye and slipped into the passenger side of her car.

Steve shook his head. Mike was trying to learn how to balance friends and liking girls and after school activities. He’d get there.

Dustin’s mom and Will’s older brother Jonathan arrived at the same time. Jonathan was Steve’s age, but Will have been born over a decade after him as a last ditch attempt to save his parents’ marriage.

Steve waved goodbye to them and then it was just Steve and Lucas.

“My mom always told me,” Lucas said softly, “that there might not be one person out there for everyone, but there is the right person out there for what you need right now. I think she was trying to explain why Mrs. Byers had two husbands, but I think it works for you, too. You’ll find you right person at the right time.”

Steve blinked down at this boy, barely thirteen. He rubbed the top of Lucas’s head. “Thanks, kid.”

Just then his dad pulled up. “Go on,” Steve murmured. “I’ll see you after the break.”

Lucas re-shouldered his backpack to just the one shoulder. He paused as if he wanted to say something else, he just shook his head.

“See you later, Coach!”

He got into his into dad’s car and immediately started talking to him about school excitedly.

Steve pulled his coat tighter around him. He wanted to be that dad, but as time wore on it was looking less and less likely. He went back inside to clean up and grab his stuff. He had a pile of assignments he had to grade. He never gave homework and never did tests. Both were pointless in his opinion, plus it meant that he less stuff to mark and grade. He based his grades off participation and being able to stay on task.

He walked through the darkened halls and felt the weight of it on his shoulders. His best friend and her girlfriend were out having the time of their lives, while he was alone in more ways than one.

He didn’t even Garfield to keep him company anymore. Yeah, he was just a stupid goldfish, but he was Steve’s.

The cold seeped into his bones and buried into his heart. He was even going to be alone for Christmas. Chrissy was taking Robin to her brother’s for the holiday. They felt bad because they both knew Steve’s parents had cut him off long ago and didn’t have anywhere else to go.

But he had encouraged Robin going. Meeting her girlfriend’s family was important. And with Chrissy and her brother, Peter both being estranged from their parents it was even more important than usual. They promised they would be back for New Year’s and Steve promised he would be fine.

He stepped onto the curb and stopped, tilting his head back, eyes closed as he fought back tears. When the first snowflake landed it made him flinch at the sudden extra coldness to his cheek. That one was followed by another and another. It was hell.

He opened his eyes and let the snow melt on his lashes, the cold mingling with his hot tears.

~

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List: SEVEN SLOTS OPEN

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- 9- @dreamercec @wheneverfeasible @garden-of-gay

[spaceagebachelormann]

peter with a reader who always forgets things??!?!

like she forgets where she put her sword and to drink water and he has to constantly chase after her and remind her??

that's so cute

ty babe <3

peter pevensie with a gf who forgets things.

♬ fandom: chronicles of narnia

♯ genre: fluff

♪ mars thoughts: AJAJAJAJJA I LOVE HIM SM <33 this is perfect because he’s the loml and i suck at remembering stuff 😭 also i put it as hcs cause that’s how i first imagined it in my head!! dividers by @/benkeibear

♮nav - masterlist

hes so <3

like you’re just walking around minding your own business and then you’re like “hey. wait where’s my water???”

and then your pretty bf is beside you holding it like “you forgot it AGAIN”

and then he lovingly makes fun of you for forgetting you put your water bottle in his hands before walking away and not saying anything

other than the fact he’s constantly chasing you to remind you where you put something (and this can be fairly annoying to him) he finds it cute <3

he’d try to find a way to help you remember when you put them but you forgot how to remember it 😭

you tried dw

he also. kinda hoped you didn’t because he liked being the person you came to when you needed help finding stuff

he seems like one of those people who gets rlly happy knowing he helped another person

so it’s like a huge ego/energy boost for him

BUT if he’s leaving for somewhere and won’t be back for awhile he starts writing down where you put things and gives you the paper so you can look and add to it <3

would def say “don’t forget you have the paper” to be a lovingly boyfriend bitch

ALSO ALSO if you forgot your sword it’d be the funniest thing ever to him

cause like you’re this rlly strong and talented and very pretty sword wielding girlboss

and nobody knows that seconds before you wielded the sword you couldn’t even remember where you put it

and if you forget things like drinking water or even eating cause your busy

he’s a little upset cause like. you’ll die?? if you don’t?? but he doesn’t ever like chastise you cause he knows you’re busy

so he just reminds you or brings you water and food and is kinda just like “eat”

also. he didn’t cook that food. man can’t cook for shit

but if you forget it because you’re just forgetful and not busy hed def scold you a little

it’s not that like. effective 😭 cause he’s just standing there like “you can’t not eat y/n!! >:(”

AND if it takes place in the normal world instead of narnia and y’all go to the same school i have some thoughts

you’ll be like sitting in the cafeteria kinda upset cause you forgot your lunch

and he comes up and sits with you and has like a whole extra lunch prepared

hes so <3

and if you forget to do your homework or some shit like that right before the teacher comes to collect it he slides his hw onto your desk and tells you to write your name and gets in trouble for you

and then susan gets mad at him and everytime she knows you have homework she makes you come over and helps you with it <3

and he also helps!! i feel like he’s english/history smart and susan is geography/math smart so they like choose certain subjects to help with

it gets to the point where they have a whole detailed schedule

edmund is horrified with it because it hangs on the wall and is extremely visible

hes known for trying to destroy it with lucy’s help but that’s not important

MOVINGGGGG ONNNNNN

he’s overbearing. and he knows it.

at first he tries to like not immediately think you’re leaving after forgetting something

BUT HE CANT HELP IT

he asks what you forgot and when you run back inside to get it he probably starts laughing

i’ve officially run out of ideas for this <3 but tysm for requesting it

it made my brain itch /pos

[finalgwen]

So I've been trying to formulate my thoughts on The Interstellar Song Contest for nearly the whole of the last week. Spoilers within.

This is a story that features a resident of Trion played by the star of one of my favourite musicals, and features the return of Carole Ann Ford as Susan as well as revealing two new incarnations of the Rani, all penned by the first trans woman to have ever written a televised Doctor Who story. This should be incredible.

And despite all that, I fucking hate that it exists.

For all the fun moments, all the fanservice and callbacks, all the nice gay side characters and cool sets and Dugga Doos, this is also a story where the Doctor tortures a space Palestinian.

Doctor Who has never quite been perfect politically. For as much as the show generally trends towards a progressive outlook, there'll always be those stories that show something darker, meaner. The Dominators and its scathing attitude to pacifists during the height of the anti-Vietnam War movement. The Monster Of Peladon suggesting that miners strikes are all just down to evil foreign influences. The unabashed racism of The Talons Of Weng Chiang. The ugly misogyny of how The Twin Dilemma treats Peri. The asylum seekers with secret plans of conquest in The Unquiet Dead. The twist ending of Kerblam! which says that the exploitative evil capitalist system isn't the actual problem.

The Interstellar Song Contest is worse than all of these.

I don't know if Juno Dawson thought it'd be subversive to put a message about Palestine in the story that was so intensely tied into the Eurovision Song Contest itself with cameos by its hosts and intense BBC cross-promotion (that was somewhat halted by Ncuti Gatwa pulling out of hosting the irl contest). The whole story of exploitation for 'Poppy Honey' seems to be a metaphor for Israeli company MoroccanOil, the actual sponsor of the contest, and this is almost a good idea!

But then by using that metaphor, you get the fact that the villain Kid is an analogue for the victims of decades of oppression and genocide, and... He's immediately coded as a terrorist, and later subjected to the prolonged torture scene where the Doctor electrocutes him and hands him over to the police. There's really no salvaging this.

I think the torture scene is meant to be a deliberate callback to Dalek, a story about the Doctor going too far based on his Time War trauma, an arc that ultimately culminates with him deciding not to use the Delta Wave, the weapon in Parting Of The Ways. But the trouble is, none of the payoff exists here. In Dalek, the Doctor is confronted by Rose as she defends the monster from him, he's pointing a weapon at her as she calls him out as more of a threat than his existential enemy, the titular monster telling him that he 'would make a good Dalek'.

In TISC, Belinda - a character explicitly framed in her introduction to be more skeptical of the Doctor than Rose's usual adoration - just says "But still, I never know what you're thinking, you scared me back there." and then they move on. This doesn't have the same emotional weight. There are no consequences. It's a callback that fails to understand what worked about that original story and what it said about the Doctor.

If instead of torturing him, you have the Doctor using his history to talk Kid down from using the Delta Wave, of affirming the choice he made all that time ago, suddenly that weapon being around makes so much more sense. You can then have him lead into the whole using the song to promote a message and preserve his culture, expose the Corporation, etc.

I think that would stop this from being the most wretched Doctor Who story of all time. I still don't think it would make a good one. With the current schedule of Doctor Who production, this was written years ago, before October 7th and the ongoing genocide that Israel has perpetuated ever since. We've seen this all happen in real time. The idea that 'awareness' like the ending promotes will do anything has been thoroughly wrecked by now, and the whole thing just seems even more insensitive. But I can't lay this on Juno Dawson's shoulders, she wasn't to know what would happen.

But she did write that fucking torture scene. And much as I'd love to have more trans voices in the show (in a better story, that bit about the horns would have been a great metaphor!), Doctor Who doesn't need someone who can write with this casual cruelty baked in. Please don't come back, Juno.

1/10

[reynayahhoo]

Wanted to make a siren as the cook of the crew im making but I'm still making concepts and i might need some help

Tw : mentions of drowning and eating/devouring humans/whatever walks on land (because i took reference from susan sirens wiki and apparently SHE COULD'VE DROWNED AND DEVOURED THE LAUGHINGSTOCK CREW IF SHE WASN'T RESTRAINED??) also maybe the mouth restraint image at the bottom could be triggering cuz it kinda looks scary

Some info abt her :

She's fond of any land creature, and one time passed by the BlisteringBarnacles crew (the made up crew im making) and probably wanted to crash their ship and attack them at first, but after observing for a bit she was fond of how they all interacted and found them "funny" when she was secretly watching their interactions, eventually she called out and tried to trick/convince them into letting her in the ship and that she's different from other sirens and will help their ship, in which they denied and immediately sailed away. After a few months of passing by the same ship and starting to observe land beings more from afar she thought that maybe it would be nice to be able to walk on land and actually talk to them. The story after this is just not detailed at all and I'll think about it later, just think of some the little mermaid type crap where she wants freaking human legs except she actually still wants to be able to turn back into siren at anytime, did some devious ahh stuff where she sacrificed a few things including another siren and a human to some wizard and witch people who promised to give her the ability to switch into legs at land and a siren tail in water. Basically those 2 poor beings and some of her treasure were sacrificed for that deal yikes, but she got her deal. Eventually she told the reason why she wanted human legs was to be able to cooperate and hang out with the BlisteringBarnacles because for months she wanted to know how it was to be a pirate and walk on land. Eventually these 2 wizard and witch were like "nah you gonna devour them or some crap mate nahnahnah💔💔😨😨" and gave her like a mouth restraint that she has to put on her mouth so she don't try to eat anyone, considering sirens weren't really awesome cool nice sea creatures. It was a bummer at first but she understood (this specific image she didn't have the restraint/it was off). She went ts pmo after finding out she can't really trick them into accepting her AND crash the ship including devouring the crewmates now, so now she'll just be hanging around waiting for the day she'll stick to her promise of tearing this crew apart.

They hesitated for a long time accepting her btw, but when they did they assigned her to be a cook of the crew because : no one could cook (yikes) except for like 2 members but they're already busy as heck and it's not THAT good, they used her so she could go into waters and search for like idk fish or seafood to eat and let her take over the kitchen. After a long time of staying with them she eventually started reconsidering her previous intentions because she found a new hobby. And now she really likes cooking, ever since she was taught by those 2 members the basics she started messing around with basically different types of food she could cook in which the crew reacted positively to, and now she's just obsessed with cooking. After a while of staying in the crew and showing no hostility she took off her restraint, and thats why in this image she doesn't have one.

The crew is still always keeping an eye on her though considering the last time they passed by a siren (Susan) their ship just crashed and they went through trouble to get it to sail again. They have 50% of trust towards her. She's not exactly hostile but she says some spooky stuff that her kind (the sirens) find funny and land creatures find HORRIFYING, like things about crashing ships or devouring them all eventually, and then when she realizes they're not laughing she'll state that it's just a joke.

Some extra stuff :

-Her apron was made by Sasha

-She made her own chef-like shaped hat with corals that she found in the sea

-She still hangs out with her siren friends, just not as often and doesn't lead them to the crew

-She was allowed to be a cook because if she was left anywhere else but the kitchen where NORMAL source of food is present then maybe she wouldn't have the urge or the empty stomach to drown and devour one of the crewmembers tho i think that urge has disappeared long ago ever since she learned how to cook

What i need help with :

Suggestions PLEASE because something here just feels wrong, is there anything i should do with the story or like her overall journey on how she became the cook because i feel like im missing something

Also if anything's corny or just DOESN'T MAKE SENSE at all pleaaase let me know which part and how to fix it/what would work better instead but in a constructive criticism way like a feedback cuz smth abt her story feels BUNS but I can't point it out

And also because I don't know how to make the restraints look :') idk if to make them like the 1700's one with the mouth covered and it goes like over the head idk how to explain it, it looks like a cage IF THAT MAKES SENSE like this

ORRR i could like do kind of like Nezuko from demon slayer but with something that isn't a bamboo and more Europe styled-like

IDK LET ME KNOW UR THOUGHTS, FEEDBACKS, AND WHICH TYPE OF MOUTH RESTRAINT I SHOULD USE FOR HER DESIGN!! (since its apart of the lore)

Mb if this is corny gang i just randomly thought of this at school

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

by Morton A. Klein and Susan B. Tuchman

Ms. Debra P. Wilson President, National Association of Independent Schools 2001 K Street NW, Suite 1150 Washington, D.C. 20006

Dear Ms. Wilson:

               We write on behalf of the Zionist Organization of America (ZOA), the oldest pro-Israel organization in the U.S. and a leader in the fight against antisemitism in schools and on college campuses. We know that four of our fellow Jewish communal organizations wrote to you on December 11, 2024, to communicate their concern about the antisemitism that was expressed and applauded at the NAIS People of Color Conference, which took place on December 4-7, 2024. We also know that you immediately responded, expressing remorse for the “divisive and hurtful rhetoric” of NAIS’s speakers, and indicating that changes to NAIS’s speaker selection and content review processes were underway.

               While we appreciate your immediate and positive response, what occurred at the conference was horrifying and the impact was serious, far-reaching, and even dangerous. As you know, the NAIS conference felt hostile, unwelcoming and even unsafe for many Jewish participants, compelling some of them to leave early and some to hide their Stars of David out of sheer fear. We strongly believe that NAIS must take additional steps to send an unequivocal and more powerful message to its members and to the public: that NAIS will not tolerate antisemitism in any form – including when it is masked as criticism of Zionism or Israel – and that NAIS is truly committed to “the rights of every individual to belong and flourish,” including Jews.

               As our colleagues’ letter to you described, the keynote speaker at the conference, Dr. Suzanne Barakat, abused the platform that NAIS gave her to demonize Israel. In her remarks to the approximately 8,000 educators and students who attended the NAIS conference, Dr. Barakat falsely and offensively accused Israel of “genocide” when in fact it is the terrorist group Hamas that is openly committed – as reflected in its charter – to the destruction of Israel and the murder of every Jew. Rather than condemn Hamas and its massacre of over 1,200 men, women and children in Israel on October 7, 2023, Dr. Barakat not only downplayed the slaughters, the rapes and the mutilation of bodies by Hamas terrorists, but also reportedly rationalized Hamas’s atrocities. In addition, Dr. Barakat outrageously denied the right of the Jewish people to self-determination and omitted from her remarks the incontrovertible fact that Jews are indigenous to the Land of Israel. Indeed, she deliberately misinformed the thousands of educators and students at the NAIS conference that Jews were “colonists,” and that Israel, the religious and ancestral homeland of the Jewish people, was “founded on ethnocentric superiority and an inherently systemically racist framework.”

               What is almost more troubling than Dr. Barakat’s appalling antisemitic speech was the response to it: Thousands of educators, who teach at some of our country’s most prestigious schools, stood up and cheered her. No one from NAIS intervened to stop Dr. Barakat’s false and hateful speech, as someone surely would have if a speaker were wrongly and maliciously targeting and demonizing Blacks, Asians, Muslims or any other racial or ethnic group. No one from NAIS immediately publicly condemned Dr. Barakat for misusing the platform that NAIS gave her and fueling already soaring antisemitism in the U.S. and around the world.

               Even after Dr. Barakat’s antisemitic keynote speech, when many educators had reportedly reached out to NAIS to express their outrage, NAIS took no action and permitted the antisemitism to continue. The closing speaker, Dr. Ruha Benjamin, repeated the vicious lie accusing Israel of “genocide” and denied Israel’s right to defend itself, again to the applause of the crowd.

               Respectfully, it is not enough for you to express remorse in a letter to our colleagues, four Jewish communal organizations. It is not enough for NAIS to post a “an important note” on the NAIS website “regarding divisive and hurtful comments expressed” at the conference. The note does not even acknowledge the comments as antisemitic, let alone condemn the Jew-hatred that NAIS speakers expressed at the conference and educators shamefully applauded.

               A truly meaningful response requires NAIS to issue a public statement that it also disseminates to all its more than 2,000 member schools and associations of schools. The statement should:

               (1) Condemn the speakers by name who misused the platform that NAIS gave them to spout and promote antisemitic lies about Jews and Israel;

               (2) Condemn their speech as antisemitic and explain why it is antisemitic;

               (3) Make it clear that NAIS will not tolerate antisemitism in any form, including when the hatred of Jews is camouflaged as criticism of Zionism or Israel; and

               (4) Encourage all of NAIS’s member schools and associations of schools to adopt the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) working definition of antisemitism, a critical, internationally accepted resource for understanding how antisemitism is expressed today, including related to Israel. NAIS should make it clear in its statement that schools cannot effectively address antisemitism if they do not understand what antisemitism is and how it can manifest.

               We urge you to take all these steps to truly demonstrate NAIS’s commitment to inclusivity and its zero tolerance for antisemitism in all of its ugly forms. We look forward to your response and, like our colleagues, are here as a resource for you and NAIS.

[rainintheevening]

Little things I've picked up from watching the Prince Caspian movie nearly a dozen times:

-The Telmarine aesthetic is all sharp points and dark wood and silver. Also hawks in arms of the chairs and in the crossbows. It all feels... dangerously elegant. Like bared daggers rather than bared teeth.

-The way it starts with Caspian hiding in his wardrobe!

-Caspian fights in the melee with a sword and dagger. Both in the attack on Miraz's castle and at the How. When he's fighting on foot, he uses his dagger in his off hand.

-The throneroom at the Telmarine castle is so small compared to the one at Cair Paravel. It's clearly designed for Humans only, and not very many at a time. (This also supports my belief that Caspian's coronation was held in the open field outside the town.)

-In the last stages of the battle outside the How, before the trees show up, Peter, Edmund, Caspian, and others all range themselves around Susan to keep a space clear for her to shoot, since she's not armed for close combat. Small detail, but I love the acknowledgement of her ability and it's limitations.

-Also when Susan hugs Peter, and she hugs his injured shoulder and he gasps, and she says 'sorry' and he says 'it's alright'... such a tiny realistic moment.

-What really hits Peter from what the White Witch says is, "You know you can't do this alone." And Peter lowers his sword, personally I think in a kind of despair, not because he would follow her, or give her what she wants, but just because he knows she's right, and he feels so very lost in that moment. That's my idea, but I definitely don't think it's coincidence that that is when Edmund strikes, and the ice crumbles away to reveal Edmund and behind him, Aslan’s face. Because Peter isn't alone. He's just been acting like he is. (Eventually will expand on this with a Seasons scene.)

-Peter actually disarms Caspian really easily in their first meeting. It's only letting his emotions get the better of him in going for the kill that leads to his mighty swing that gets Rhindon stuck in the tree.

-Love how they include the little piper and drum in the mouse procession with the wounded Reepicheep!

-In the opening pursuit of Caspian, when he rides into the river and Glozelle's men follow, they immediately get into trouble, and I love that little implication that the river doesn't like the others.

-ALSO the moment when Trumpkin sees Rhindon's hilt, and really properly looks at the four, the way the focus changes to make it look like the sky and the water and the stones shift and bend around the Pevensies!!!!

[toribookworm22]

Watch Thoughts ❄️❄️❄️

Why is Narnia so devestating????

It's Peter yelling at Edmund and their mom calling Peter a good man and them all being so tiny.

And it's the long opening and the titles only once they're on the train with the wistful song playing.

In Voyage of the Dawn Treader when Lucy was sold off, did she remember when she was tagged and boarded like cattle onto the train?

It's everyone looking at Susan for reassurance.

It's all the others trying not to laugh and Susan setting her shoulders even as she does as she's told.

It's Peter and Susan trying to act like what is probably the image of their parents when they're comforting Lucy.

It's the jazzy swing music starting as Peter starts counting, giving into the kid game and trying to get the others to do the same.

It's their frantic running to hide.

It's the music echoing away as Lucy finds the room.

It's the dramatic drop of the sheet.

It's the slow push through the wardrobe.

It's Lucy taking in the beauty of the snowy forest.

Narnia really is a pinnacle of effects.

I've always thought the lamppost was a simply brilliant device used in Narnia.

I always forget that Lucy really does represent hope for all of Narnia. Winter's not all bad when you know spring is coming.

You know sometimes I wonder why I didn't get that into The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings sooner given that I love fantasy. But then I remember. I had Narnia.

This actress, man. She's incredible.

The fact that it's Susan and Edmund checking the wardrobe, but Peter telling Lucy it's her imagination.

Peter who grew up far too fast yet still wants to be a kid, but instead pushes everyone else to grow up with him because he's protecting them that way.

I've always had such a soft spot for Edmund. He's barely older than Lucy and just such a little boy. He's a joker and and annoying brother and he's attention deprived and the way that his siblings treat him is why the plot moves the way it does.

It's his change in tone once he's in the wardrobe. Lucy? Where are you? I think I believe you now.

The White Witch and her dwarf used to appear in my nightmares. They're absolutely terrifying.

BUT HER COSTUMING.

LIKE WHO DO I HAVE TO THANK FOR HER HAIR AND CROWN AND COAT AND DRESS???

I can make anything you like. Can you make me taller?

Oh. Do you mean... Peter would be king, too?

The White Witch is already so manipulative with her "hills" and "house".

Lucy: Winter isn't so bad. Edmund: It's freezing.

You know what little children are like these days. Just don't know when to stop pretending.

It's Lucy looking up at the professor and seeing an adult and immediately burying her face into him.

The weeping girl. Yes, sir. She's upset. Hence the weeping.

You're not saying you believe her? You don't? You're saying that we should just believe her?

Oh and the kids all band together to avoid getting in trouble for breaking the window. As kids do.

Them all arguing as they back up in the wardrobe will always be one of the funniest things ever.

Don't worry. I'm sure it's just your imagination. Little Lucy with her sass.

It's the way Peter literally knows how to poke at all of them and doesn't hold back except with Lucy.

It's the way Lucy knows exactly what's happened the moment she sees the door kicked in. Her eyes widen because she knows what a bombed house looks like.

Anyone else forget the White Witch's name was Jadis?

The way the girls both grab onto Peter, but Peter grabs onto Susan.

Susan immediately warms up the moment we meet Mrs. Beaver. She recognizes warmth and love.

It's all happening because of you. You're blaming us?Not blaming. Thanking.

Peter is so easily swayed. He's such a mediator and he's trying so hard to make everyone happy, but it really just makes him fickle.

The first of my loveable foxes.

It's Susan running full-force and Peter dragging Lucy behind him.

The river scene is still so good.

I will forever be disappointed in animals not designed as well as Aslan.

Susan and Edmund are so important to me as a pair of the Pevensie children.

It's very important that the girls are not soft. They are girls from wartime and always armed and, yes, they are gentle, but they are not soft. They are Aslan's protectors of heart.

Okay, but the Witch's outfit during Aslan's binding is killer.

The way Jadis studies Aslan in this scene, too. I want to study it. Her expressions are so layered.

Susan looks away, but Lucy doesn't.

They cut from Aslan's eyes to Lucy's.

The girls free Aslan's body. Susan reasons it's too late, but Lucy tries anyway. It's not about that.

He must've known what he was doing.

Susan, the woman you are.

Do you think Susan thought of Aslan as she identified the bodies? Do you think she tried to free them too?

Edmund: then you'll have to lead us. That's such as important turn for him. AND SO DO I.

Okay, but that shot through the map that turns into the field from the eagle's eyes?! Damn.

It's important that Peter both protects Edmund by setting him further back, but also trusts him enough to lead and fight.

Oh my gosh I forgot she wore his mane!

Peter always looks to his siblings when he makes a decision.

Narnia is so intense with its battle sequences. They are violent and brutal in a way I haven't seen much of in other kid's media.

Even though I hesitate to like that they specifically split the girls off from the boys so that they didn't fight, it still works.

Narnia editors. Wherever you are. Thank you.

Edmund sees Peter hurt and the whole of the army reacts. Peter asks them to stop. But they do not listen. Not to that king at least.

Lucy's grief is important. Just as much as her hope.

Peter the boy who wanted to fight in the war at home sees war up close and stumbles.

Yet his stubborn ass still fights. Even if he demands Edmund to get the girls home.

Peter's not king yet. Peter's not king yet and I listen to no one. I will let the witch take nothing else.

Oh the silent scream.

Oh Peter thinking to himself why can't you do as you're told even as he runs after him again.

Peter isn't a fighter. And he looks so painfully young fighting the witch who is.

Whoever designed the rock terrain, man.

The motion blur shot is so incredible. It's just Peter and Aslan. It is finished.

Susan: where's Edmund. Susan shooting the dwarf who tortured Edmund. Susan removing his helm. They mean the world to me.

Aslan heals and Lucy runs to do the same.

How they each look at their thrones means so much to me actually. Lucy the Valiant Edmund the Just Susan the Gentle Peter the Magnificent

It is important that Tumnus gives them the crowns because Narnia is really about change.

Once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen of Narnia.

After all. He's not a tame lion.

I think Lucy's grief is what makes her valiant.

Wait, what so you mean the only time Susan got to see her siblings grow up was as kings and queens in Narnia?

They actually cast them older really well.

This feels familiar. Like from a dream. Or a dream of a dream.

The transition from fall leaves to coats is brutal actually. And then they're back to bickering.

The only time in which movies are more devestating than books. The Penvensie children remember.

Oh my gosh I forgot how much Lucy going back to the wardrobe made me sad.

And the music is so good.

But oh how I've missed the Disney logo that changed colors with the movie title color.

[eternalreap]

Trouble Waits For A Victim. — Nigel x Alex.

Ship: Nigel Colbie + Alex Forbes.

Warnings: Violence, Blood.

Summary: What if Alex found Nigel in his room instead of outside after Susan’s death?

Words: 783.

Notes: Hello Like Minds fandom. It’s me, Chase. (again!!). I posted this fic on Ao3, but decided to post it here too to get a bit more reach. This is pretty short as it’s a oneshot, but i hope you enjoy either way. <3

After a bit of looking for the boy, and a lot of furious questions, Alex inevitably found Nigel in his room. He was sitting at his desk, a new set up, with a roommate other than him now. his taxidermy bullshit was scattered all across the desk he was seated at.

Nigel turned around, whether out of surprise or something else, he didn’t know. All he knew is that he had that cold look on his pale face, so uncaring, and it fucking infuriated him.

Alex edged closer in a spurt of anger, hastily grabbing onto Nigel’s collar and hoisting the other up to be at face view to him.

“What’d you do with the knife?” Alex growled, and Nigel’s blank expression immediately turned to blatant bashfulness. “I sense some hostility.” The raven haired boy smiled, in an odd tone that Alex didn’t hear Nigel often use. It was almost… flirty.

“What do you reckon?” Alex asked, a rhetorical question. “Do you think i should tell them?” Nigel wonders, his tone nonchalant, still not caring how Alex could hurt him at any given moment.

Nigel tsks. “I mean, you were the last person to see her, Jack.” He pouts, and Alex can feel the others breath dancing along his face. “Poor fair maiden. I can’t believe what’s happened.” Nigel sounds like he’s trying to etch some sympathy into his voice, but it sounds forced and fake. It probably sounds fake on purpose. Nigel just loved playing with his mind, apparently.

“You did it, didn’t you?” Alex shakes Nigel, trying to get the answer out of him. It is then that Nigel leans in close by his ear, his breath tickling the skin on his neck and causing goosebumps to form. “No, Jack. You did it.”

Alex feels intense rage shoot through him, and he does what any sane person would do in that moment. He punches Nigel in the face.

He watches as blood dribbles out of the others nose, and even mouth. Nigel spits it out and slowly runs his tongue over his teeth.

“How could you do this? Fucking killed her.” Alex almost shouts, grabbing Nigel’s collar once again. “Feels good to vent one’s anger, doesn’t it, Jack?” Nigel asks, nearly teasingly, like he wants Alex to hit him more.

And that he does.

Alex slaps the guy hard in the face, then kicks him in his stomach and Nigel falls to the ground. Nigel groans, but still isn’t very phased. Alex will make him care if it’s the last thing he does.

“Hit me, Jack.” Nigel chokes out, and Alex feels his eyes go a bit wide. “It’s good, isn’t it? So fucking hit me.” Alex straddles Nigel, his legs clinging to his sides as he grips onto the boy’s throat, successfully shutting him up.

The dark haired boy looks completely ruined like this. his pupils blown wide, whether in pain or pleasure, Alex has no idea. It’s most likely both, he distantly thinks. Just as Nigel is about to pass out, Alex lets go, releasing the strong pressure on his throat. Nigel takes a few ragged breaths, his face flushed from the lack of oxygen to his brain, his hair messy across his forehead, tears falling down his face from getting his nose punched.

It’s Alex who feels like he’s choking now, their faces so close he can feel Nigel’s breath on his lips instead of his neck this time, huffing out in rapid succession. “I know you feel it.” Nigel breathed, his tone almost whiny. “It’s so invigorating.”

“Shut up.” Alex says, and punches Nigel in the jaw. he can see the beginning of a bruise coming in on the side of his face. “Fuck.” The pale boy groaned, his hand coming up to grip his face in pain. More tears released from his eyes and dripped down his cheeks, but his expression was unmoving and set in stone.

Blood pooled down his chin, his lips so red and metallic. Alex felt the need to do something, but just stared, their faces still centimeters apart.

A hungry look consumed Nigel’s features as Alex stayed frozen. Nigel leaned forward, catching Alex’s lips in a searing kiss. It was messy and uncaring, but neither seemed to care, just engrossed in the want, the need.

Alex let his tongue dance along Nigel’s lips, finally tasting the blood coming out of his mouth. He let his hand come up to bury his hand in Nigel’s dark hair, pulling and giving Nigel what he wants; pain.

[say-hwaet]

That's the Way it Is

Chapter Fourteen: A Fair Trade Previous Chapter: Thirteen Next Chapter: fifteen Summary: We return to Kit and what she has been up to over the past few days. Where is she? And what trouble does she find herself in? Warnings: Language, Mature themes Word Count: ~4,400

You never thought you would end up here. In a tub of water, your skin being scrubbed raw. Two women comb oils through your long, dark hair, pulling your head back as they comb through the knots and waves. The water is hot, nearly scalding. You prefer the icy coldness of the lake, the stars in the sky, not the burning lamps and pairs of eyes staring at your body.

Your mind has been trying to follow what has happened in the last several hours. The last few days. After the robbery in Valentine, you, Karen, Bill, and Lenny had successfully escaped the law.

But the escape that you wanted still wasn’t achieved. You wanted more time. You couldn’t bear to return to camp just yet.

“You three go on ahead,” you say. “I want to be away for a bit.”

Karen grins. “Suit yourself, Kit. But don’t be upset when we have a celebration without you!”

And they ride off.

You rode further into the Heartlands, finally stopping at Moonstone Pond. It was still as peaceful as you remembered it, despite the ruins of a cabin once destroyed by a fallen tree. You dismounted and hurriedly took off your boots, those stupid heeled shoes, and went into the water to cool the heat in your feet.

You remembered what you were capable of. Joining Karen in her rouse of damsel in distress, it was quick to pull all bank clients into the performance.

So, when Bill and Lenny came in, you forced your way into the back of the bank, and blew up the safes. Though it drew the attention of the law, your escape was quick, and no one was shot.

You knew then what your purpose has been in the gang.

But your mind, as you cooled your body in the water, had begun to wander to other things. To Arthur. To what he had shared with you, what you wanted him to do.

Were you really going to compromise your values to finally have what you had been waiting for? You felt embarrassed, but what was more embarrassing was the fact that Arthur had stopped it all, for you. He reminded you of what you had kept sacred.

He was right. It was honorable.

When he told you that he had been with another woman, how did you react the first time?

When the sun went down, you set up camp and after eating a can of strawberries and some mint that you picked, you laid down to fall asleep.

That’s when a dream came.

You come out of Abigail’s tent, brow misted and dark circles under your eyes. It is over now, and after several hours of travailing, Abigail has finally given birth to a son.

Susan told you to go find John, and you aren’t sure if you want to. But, ever obedient to your surrogate mother, you go look for him.

Under the canopy of the pine trees of Montana, you navigate your way through the camp. Those who are awake look up at you expectantly, but you don’t want to share the news with them first. They know enough, by the shrill cries of the babe, that the baby is alive.

You find John, at the edge of camp, smoking a cigarette.

You take a couple of steps toward him and swallow. “John?”

He doesn’t turn around immediately, but you are patient.

When Abigail told John she was pregnant, something changed in him. It was clear that they were fond of each other, but it also became clear as to whom had carried the majority of it. Abigail was a pretty thing, a beautiful woman that he could hold and love on each night, not really considering the repercussions of it. In part, that is one of the reasons why you have resolved to wait until you meet the right person, to be sure that the one you are with can carry the responsibility of loving you and any children you might make together.

Finally, John turns around, but he doesn’t speak.

You step forward and speak softly and gently. “You have a son, John.”

His eyes search yours, you can see the sharp disbelief in them, the accusation that darkens his eyes. The fear.

And without saying anything to you, he turns and walks further into the trees until he is out of sight.

“John…!” you call after him, but stop. It is best to leave him alone.

You stand there for a few minutes, letting your breath calm to slow puffs of air. You don’t like to see such turmoil, when there should be joy and celebration. It may not be ideal for a baby to be born into such a family, but a child is treasured, and precious. You remember when your own brother was born, how your mother helped you to hold him for the first time. The wonder you felt isn’t much different than how you felt when you held Abigail’s son and handed him to her.

Your shoulders drop. You need to rest and lie down. Maybe you can catch some sleep before the sun rises.

You turn and walk in the opposite direction of where John went, finding a quiet spot just outside of camp. You check the ground with your feet for pine needles, and sweeping them away, you lay down on your back.

Your cast your eyes at the expanse of the sky, as the dark silhouette of the trees reach high like fingers. You rest your hands on your stomach and begin thinking what it might be like to have a child yourself. Where would you like to be?

Who would you want to father it?

And as though he heard your thoughts, a warm voice calls to you softly. “Susan told me it’s a boy.” You quickly sit up and turn to see Arthur’s silhouette. He raises his hands. “Didn’t mean to startle you, Kit.”

You sigh, relieved that he can’t see the red in your cheeks. “It’s alright, Arthur. I thought you had gone to bed.”

He walks toward you. “I couldn’t sleep.”

You nod. “The baby’s got some lungs on him.”

You hear Arthur chuckle softly. “Shoah.” After a pause, he comes closer and sits down next to you, and lays down on his back. “This is a nice spot.”

You nod and feeling the fatigue creep up again, you roll down onto your back. “I needed some air.”

“I didn’t see John.”

“Yes. I told him he has a son. He…took off.”

Arthur's voice is quiet, thoughtful. "He's got a lot on his mind, no doubt."

You turn your head to look at him, seeing only the dim shape of his profile against the light of the night sky. "We all do," you say softly, your thoughts drifting to the days that lie ahead, and the past that you’ve already lived. “But we will all be here to help him.”

Arthur snorts, almost bitterly, and this surprises you. “He’s lucky, the bastard.”

Your eyes widen. “Arthur…!”

You hear Arthur’s breath hitch, catching himself saying something he didn’t intend to say out loud. “You know what Dutch said about children in camp.”

“Yes, I do,” you sigh. “But, I think he’s changed his mind.”

Arthur goes silent for a moment, and you hear his steady breathing. “Too late.”

Your brow pinches. “Too late?”

He looks away from you. “Nothin’.”

Ah, a secret.

There’s a pang in your chest at Arthur's dismissal, but you let it lie for now, rolling back to look up at the stars. "We should go back soon," you murmur, though the stillness around you feels too precious to disturb.

Arthur doesn't respond immediately. Instead, he turns on his side to face you, and even in the dim light, you can see the softened expression on his face. “I need to tell you somethin’.”

And with the sudden shift, you wait for him to speak again.

“Remember on that cliff…” He begins, and you hear him swallow. “I was tryin’ to tell you somethin’?”

You remember that day. Vividly. You were so young, then, so naive when you kissed him. That was five years ago. “Yes, I do.”

He pauses before speaking again. “I was tryin’ to tell you…that I had a woman and son waitin’ for me.”

Your heart tightens, feeling as though it’s being squeezed in an unyielding grip. "…Had…?”

That’s when he goes quiet for the longest time, and it isn’t until he speaks again that you realize it is because he is weeping. “They…ahem…were killed in a robbery. Two years ago.”

The revelation stirs a tumult of emotions within you—shock, disappointment, but also a deep, piercing sadness. It's a sudden understanding that explains so much of his past behavior, his hesitations.

And as though knowing your next question, he speaks again. “I couldn’t have brought ‘em here. Dutch would’ve—” He cuts himself off.

“I understand.” And in the dark you reach out and find his hand, taking it gently. “I’m sorry.”

Your fingers entwine with his, a tangible connection in the vast emptiness that has suddenly enveloped both of you. The night seems colder now, more isolated, as if even the stars have drawn back, shrouded in their own secrets.

Arthur’s grip tightens around your hand, his voice a whisper carried on the cool breeze of the night. “You’re the only one who knows…”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you.”

You find your thumb caressing his hand. “What was his name?”

“Isaac. He was four.”

You whisper the name, trying to picture what he would have looked like. A young boy, full of life and laughter. Maybe having his father’s hair, or his beautiful eyes. “You must miss him terribly.”

“Yes.”

“And…her…?”

He clears his throat before answering softly. “…Yes.”

He loved her, you can tell by the sadness in his voice. You feel a sadness too, partly for yourself, and also in the shared grief of a loved one. Your parents. Your brother.

And Arthur has shared this pain with you, making something special between you two.

You feel you ought to share something with him, a secret that you have held close and sacred, maybe he would understand, if not anyone else. You take a deep breath, the cool night air filling your lungs as you muster the courage. “I’ve never been with a man.” His silence makes the color flush out of your face, and you instantly regret opening your mouth. “I haven’t told anyone because…” and you close your mouth.

But then he squeezes your hand, a gesture heavy with kindness and understanding. “Kitka,” he says softly, his voice so low it almost blends with the rustling leaves around you. “That ain’t somethin’ to be ashamed of.”

You nod, feeling a small weight lift off your shoulders, but the vulnerability hangs thick between you, opening a door that you hope and pray never closes.

***

You woke up the next day, feeling different. Feeling guilty. You were cold to Arthur, after he had tried to preserve something that you had kept about yourself. It is clear that you had later told Karen, Mary Beth, and Tilly your secret, but the fact that Arthur had known for years and never used it against you says greatly about his character.

You needed to figure out what to say to him. You wanted to pull him aside and truly talk about things, maybe even explore what has formed between you.

You spent the entire day riding, exploring, going down to Emerald Ranch, buying some dynamite and moonshine with your earnings from the robbery, and picking enough herbs to fill your saddlebags. It was good to be out in nature, in the cooler air, away from the humidity. You wished that you never had to leave the area with the gang. It saddened you how much has changed since that day in Valentine.

The next day, you decided to go back. You were ready. Courage mustered, you mounted Odliv and rode southeast toward Lemoyne.

You came through Rhodes and just as you were outside of town, you saw something that shook you.

Three Braithewaites, gallop hard from the direction of camp, with Jack in their arms.

The boy had a sack over his head and he was held tightly as they galloped. And in you, a protective instinct ignited.

“Hey…!” you called out to them. “Let him go!”

And they saw you. You couldn’t risk shooting them, lest they drop the boy or worse. Instead, you kicked Odliv into a full sprint, closing the distance between you and the Braithewaites. Your heart pounded in your chest as you drew nearer, the cold grip of fear mixing with a fiery determination.

Jack recognized your voice, his muffled cries could be heard from underneath the bag over his head. “Aunt Kit…!”

As you rode beside one of them, he turned to face you, a sneer spread across his face. “You’re that dancing lady at the saloon, aren’t you?”

And seeing the look in his eyes, you had little time to react before he took the grip of his gun and hit you upside the head, knocking you unconscious.

***

You woke up in the Braithewaite manor, and while bound and tied to a chair, you overheard Mrs. Braithewaite arguing about what they were to do with you. You were not the desired target, though you were unsure why. Jack was nowhere to be seen, and that only worried you more.

So, when Catherine and her son first came in the room, that was the first thing you cared to ask. “Where’s Jack? What have you done to him?”

The man slapped you hard across the face. “Should have gagged you!”

“Enough!” Catherine barked. “You don’t hit a lady.”

“She ain’t no lady,” he sneered, eyeing your attire and bare feet. “She’s heathen.”

But Catherine was calm and quiet. “No, she’s Romani.” Your eyes lifted up at her, surprised that she would have any knowledge about that. “Like those that live just outside of town.”

You nodded, still perplexed. “But they aren’t my people,” you explained. “They’ve been gone a long time.”

She studied you. “Bronte may have use for you,” she said thoughtfully. “Maybe even more than the boy.”

Her son looked at her, brows raised. “But mama—”

She whipped around to strike him. “You hush!”

But this information was enough for you. Enough to use your skills of speech and persuasion to perhaps save the boy. “Then why keep him?”

Catherine looked back at you, eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

Your voice was shaky but determined, a stark contrast to the frailty you felt tied to the chair. "If this Bronte has more use for me, then let the boy go. He's just a child, and need I remind you, comes with more of a risk. He has a whole gang of murderers and thieves who are looking for him.”

Catherine paused, considering your words. “And what of you? Isn’t there anyone who’d risk hell and heaven to come after you?”

You lowered your head. “No.”

Whether you truly believed that or not, it must have been convincing enough.

For she agreed.

She had you remain bound, then after a bag was thrown over your head, you were put in a wagon and delivered to Bronte.

You waited outside while one of the Braithewaites went in to explain why they had brought an adult woman and not a small boy. But it must have been forgiven, for you were quickly brought in, and taken down a darkened hallway and into the washroom. Two women met you there, where they removed the bag off your head, stripped you of your clothing and dignity, and forced you into the bathwater.

And now, you’re here.

The women speak in a different language, so you can’t understand them. You don’t remember ever hearing it before, but one thing’s for sure, it isn’t Czech or any form of Slavic tongue. You know that you have a fighting chance if you try to take them out, but you would only have seconds before someone would come in and drag your naked self somewhere else.

For now, this is the safest place you can be. 

Then suddenly, the women remove their hands, setting down their sponges and combs. “Alzarsi!” one barks at you.

You only look at her, confused. She knows that you can’t understand her.

But she then grabs your arm and starts to pull you upwards. “Alzarsi!”

She wants you to get up. You try to stand without slipping in the tub, while also covering yourself. They look at you with raised brows, laughing to themselves, saying more words in their native tongue.

You don’t need to know what they are saying, their eyes darting between your breasts and your hips. You aren’t exactly the standard of beauty.

“Do I…? Does this disappoint you?”

Your breath catches, and they fiercely dry you off with a towel.

“Kitka…Never…”

His voice…Arthur’s voice. Why would he be saying that to you? Your head doesn’t hurt. Could this be a made-up reverie or a wishful daydream? You had wondered what he might say if he saw you, out on the lake…

If he found you beautiful, nothing these women could ever say would matter in the scheme of things.

Leaving you, one of the women picks up something that was folded. Unraveling it, she reveals a simple blouse and skirt, resembling the uniform they wear.

Are…are you to be a servant? A slave?

“Vieni,” she begins, holding them out to you. “Mettiti questo.”

She must want you to put them on. You don’t have a clean chemise or bloomers to wear, but you suppose it won’t matter.

Taking the clothes, you begin to put them on, feeling their tense eyes on you as you try to hurry. Once your blouse is buttoned, the other woman begins to grab your hair, braiding it into one long cord and weaving it in a knot at the top of your head. You want to ask them what their plan is, but you have a feeling they won’t answer you.

As the women finish arranging your hair, you catch the flicker of concern—or perhaps curiosity—in one’s gaze. The room is thick with their whispered conversations, but their words are as elusive as wisps of smoke, leaving you still grappling with uncertainty about your place in this strange new world. You can't help but feel like a pawn in someone else's game, maneuvered and positioned with no say of your own. The notion gnaws at you, an itch beneath your skin that you can't shake off.

One of the women tugs at your arm. “Vieni… ” And they start to walk out of the washroom. You follow.

As they lead you out of the room, through a series of winding corridors, your mind races with possibilities—each more unsettling than the last. How will you be able to navigate this place when you don’t know their language? Or a way out?

You don’t plan on staying here, but you will do whatever you can to bide your time until you are able to plan your escape. No fires or explosions. Subtlety this time, like a flame on a wick. You have to burn silently, unnoticed until you can find the right moment to blaze freely. You've learned from your time in the circus, and with the gang, that sometimes the most effective performances are those unseen by the audience until the final reveal.

As you continue down the hallway, you hear the distant clink of glasses and a warm laugh, a pretentious laugh, and a light coming from another room. You brace yourself, having the feeling that whoever is in that room, is the one calling the shots. 

You watch the women enter the room ahead of you and you hesitate. You aren’t sure what to prepare for and you turn to look down the hallway. Maybe if you start now, you can find a way to escape.

“Come here, signorina.”

English. He speaks English.

You step into the well-lit room, to the left there are windows, revealing the darkness outside. You don’t know if they can be opened, but you see another door going into another room. Four men stand in attendance to a middle-aged man sitting down, wearing a silk robe. His hair is dark and shines from pomade. He’s grinning at you, but it isn’t in any way that conveys benevolence.

“I apologize for hasty attention to your…uncleanliness. We can never trust the Briathewaites to bring merchandise clean.”

You only stare at him, but your body clearly tenses. Merchandise. That is what he calls it? You have the feeling that you weren’t brought here to be a servant.

“My name is Angelo Bronte,” he states, placing a hand on his chest and leaning forward as if to formally bow.. “And you are in my city…and in my house.”

You swallow, methodically planning what you might say. The last thing you want to do is make this man angry. Being surrounded by armed men and women at his attendance, he is no different than Dutch or any man who has a semblance of power. You need to tread carefully. “And what city would that be, Mr. Bronte?”

He pauses, looking up at his men. “You hear that voice? Soft like honey. A little accent, can’t you hear it?” He talks about you as though you aren’t even in the room. You try your best to conceal your agitation, especially when he turns to look back at you. “Saint Denis, signorina.”

Saint Denis. You might have heard of it while overhearing conversations from townsfolk in Rhodes. And from the distance you traveled (you only had to gauge it by sound, given you had a bag over your head), it isn’t far from the Braithewaite mansion.

“And you own this city?” you ask.

Bronte leans into the sofa, smiling smugly. “Let us just say that I am letting the mayor borrow it for a while, but yes. Nothing goes on here that I do not know about.”

His words send a chill down your spine, but you maintain an outward calm. You understand the power men like him wield; it's not just the wealth or the armed men—it's the knowledge, the connections, the sheer influence over every soul in the city.

“What do you want with me?” you ask bluntly, deciding that it is appropriate enough to cut to the quick with this question.

He leans forward again, resting his elbows on his knees. “It is my understanding that you are a woman of many talents, yes?”

You can’t help but raise a brow, unsure as to what he is implying. “Such as…?”

He smiles suggestively. “Such as disappearing acts, handling explosives with a delicate touch, and twisting your body in ways most can’t fathom,” Bronte continues, his gaze sharp as if trying to peel back the layers of your soul. “The circus... it teaches unique skills, does it not?” You stiffen slightly, realizing he knows far more than you could have ever thought. How would the Braithewaites know all of that? “But I am more interested in the…hypnotic skills that you possess…”

You feel yourself backing away, but the body of one of the woman servants stops you. “I am not a harlot, Mr. Bronte.”

His face tightens momentarily, a flicker of annoyance crossing his otherwise composed features. “I would never presume so, signorina,” Bronte responds smoothly, his voice lowering to a more persuasive tone. “What I am interested in is your capacity for subtlety and discretion. You see, there are certain... investments that require a delicate hand, skills that you have honed over your years in the circus. And, some might benefit from your ability to…entertain. Consider it... an employment opportunity."

You weigh his words carefully; the air in the room feels heavy, laden with unspoken threats and possibilities. "And if I refuse?" you ask, letting your eyes meet his unflinchingly.

His eyes darken, and you feel something enter the room, something intangible. “Then you will become what you insist you are not.”

His threat hangs in the air like a noose, tightening with each silent second that passes. You draw in a slow, measured breath, trying to keep your composure despite the rising panic. “Will you set me free if I do this?”

He studies you. “Do you not know what employment means?”

You swallow. “An employee can quit.”

He laughs, turning back to his men. “La lingua su questa ragazza! Non sarebbe bello sfruttarlo meglio?” The men laugh, and you know better than to not laugh with them. He turns back to you. “Then perhaps I should have rephrased it. Instead of an employment opportunity, consider it a form of alliance. One where you can use your talents to our mutual benefit, and in return, you get to keep your life—and maybe even a bit of freedom.” He leans back onto the sofa, touching the tips of his fingers together. “But make no mistake, signorina, in this world, nobody is truly free.”

You pause, letting his words sink in. Freedom was a relative term, but you have heard Dutch spew it for years. You believed it, and still do, but you see the dark merit to what Bronte is saying. Even if you have free agency, there is always someone on top, someone with the puppet strings.

And all the puppeteers seem to want to make you dance for them.

For now, you will dance, but when the time is right, you will find your scissors, and cut yourself free. You nod slowly, conceding this moment but not the war. "Fine," you say quietly, your voice steady despite the turmoil swirling inside you. "I’ll do what you ask. But understand this, Bronte—I’m no one’s puppet.”

Bronte smiles, a toothy smile that makes you shiver. “My dear, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He stands, extending a hand to you. You hesitate, the sense of danger palpable, yet you place your hand in his, knowing full well the symbolism of this gesture. His grip is firm, reminding you of a serpent testing its potential prey before the strike. “Estella will show you to your room. Of course, it was intended for someone…younger than you, but we will make changes.”

One of the women, now Estella, takes you by the arm and leads you away. As you leave the opulent room and back into the darkness, the shock begins to wear off.

What have you done?

Thank you for reading!

Tag Requests:

@photo1030 @eternalsams

[was-that-a-pun]

I have two thoughts; one of curiosity and one of me being evil and cruel.

1: If the Doey Dough in the vats at Play-Co is still intact, could he assimilate/incorporate it into himself? Then again, it might not mix with the sentient dough making up Doey. Plus he'd probably couldn't go near the vats without having flashbacks that could rival that of Vietnam.

2: What if. . . When Susan is out of sight/off doing something or when Doey is alone, the Prototype uses her voice against him/threatens her? Or did so over the years, if only to torture him?

I shall be rubbing my hands together evily, awaiting your response.

1) Ooohhhh I love that idea. Yes I think he could incorporate it into himself, I just imagine it's stored way up on the upper floors and at least in Love Him Till The Day That You Die I have them never making it back up into the factory any farther than playcare. He'd also definitely have some not so great memories of the area too for sure O_O I know my version of Susan when breaking in avoids that area like the plague for the same reason.

But If they did make it up there oooo DOEZILLA gonna get them out of there no problem! X3 Giant Doey just carrying everyone out in his palm

2) OOooooo that'd be so cruel, you deserve all the evil hand rubbings.

Cause until she shows up in safe haven Doey thought he'd killed his mom just like in canon but the Prototype, even if he hadn't had direct run in's with her in her multi year assault, would at least be aware of her and if they were able to put two and two together, watched her from afar for a bit, he could really mess with Doey's head.

Parroting things she'd said in solitude or to another toy as she's searching for him, in a voice that's steadily changing with age, and Doey is sure the Prototype is only doing it to prey on their guilt over her death then finding out years later it was mocking them about her being so close but so far.

After she shows up he could probably only get away with it once each, It'd pretend to be Susan in peril and Doey would panic and rush to protect her, but with so much force they'd immediately ditch the plan and bugger off. They do the same pretending to be Doey in trouble and you just hear the Kill Bill sirens XD