#(pick a star on the dark horizon and follow the light) HEADCANON

[wasgentle-archive-blog]

 ok but 

all of narnian architecture designed with the land around it, not against it 

vines creeping up pillars, birds nesting on cornices, flowers bloom on windowsills

in the event a building is built ‘round a stream, some buildings simply have water running through certain rooms, designed around that fact 

the paths around cair paravel are made of sea-shells 

courtyards are outbursts of trees and plants and little living creatures 

trees often intertwine with buildings 

[uwuwriting]

Road trip w/ Kaminari, Shinsou and Bakugou

Request: Shinso, Kami, and Bakugou on a long trip/plane ride with their S/o? Happy holidays bb! - 🥐

I wish I could go on a trip. I need Christmas break to last longer, I’m not ready to go back to school and study for uni, I’m not emotionally capable. I hate it here.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: fluff

Kaminari Denki

-You have a mini fight about who gets to drive at first. 

-You don’t trust him because he is dumb and bisexual and he believes that you’ll fall asleep ont he wheel cuz you stayed up until like 2 am the previous day downloading music and making playlists for the journey. 

-He gets to drive the first shift and it goes relatively well.

-You get some extra sleep, he enjoys his time behind the wheel and boom you’re now at a gas station having brunch before hitting the road again.

-Karaoke driving. 

-I think that’s all I have to say about your road trip with this guy. 

-HE will ignore the playlists with the soft songs because he needs to vibe at first. 

-Kills it with the Shakira impressions like you start wondering what would happen if he suddenly decides to follow a music career like Jiro. 

-So many bathroom stops. 

-Does this man have a prostate problem because damn.

-He can’t go for more than an hour without stopping to pee. 

-The one time you ask to stop at a gas station for a bathroom break he suggests just stopping at the side of the road and you could pee there. 

- “I do it so you can too.” 

-Denki honey I don’t have a dick to wip out…...I need essentials. 

-May or may not have taken the wrong exit at some point and you took a thirty minute detour. 

-At least you got some nice photos out of it. 

-Speaking of photos. 

-Your camera roll will be filled with selfies, stupid videos of Kami hyping himself up at a red light. 

-Races with other cars at said red lights. 

-You fear for your life most of the time, grasping the door handle like your life depended on  it because in reality it kinda did. 

-You beg him to take over and drive for a little bit but he brushes you off. 

- “You seem tired baby, let me drive for a bit.” 

- “Nope I’m perfectly fine Y/N. Gonna get us to the hotel so fucking fast.” 

- “Denki no-”

-He calms down after a while, and he lets you put on your soft playlist so you could both just vibe. 

-His hand is resting on your thigh, giving it a few firm squeezes every now and then. 

-He likes drumming the beat of the song on your skin.

-You start random conversations about anything and everything and if you’re being honest you love these types of moments. 

-There are no villains to fight, no danger in the horizon *apart from his driving* and you get to enjoy the tranquility while enjoying the ride.

-Denki starts telling you about adopting a dog and you joke that he would be a horrible dog dad. 

- “Maybe cats are better for you babe.” 

-You are no longer heroes. 

-You are just a couple going on a road trip, away from all your troubles and worries just you and him. 

-You reach the hotel later than you expected though…..it was those damn bathroom breaks!!!

Shinsou Hitoshi

-The trip is spontaneous. 

-You were both chillin in your apartment when he popped the question. 

- “Wanna go on a trip? I’m bored.” 

-You never expected him to pick a place this far away, you weren’t complaining though. 

-Road trips with him are immaculate. 

-He helps you pack your bags in no time, picking your favorite outfits out and placing them in your travel bags along with a bunch of snacks and a fluffy blanket. 

-You hit the road in less than an hour.

-It’s still dark out when you start your trip and Hitoshi insists you take a nap, get your beauty sleep while he drives. 

- “Don’t worry we won’t crash, I hope.”

-You do take a nap eventually but not for long and you wake up just in time to watch the sunrise with your boyfriend. 

-He will pull over and take pictures with the sunrise as your background. 

-He says he needs a new wallpaper on his phone and there’s an empty picture frame at his desk back at work. 

-He needs to fill them somehow. 

-Around noon he brings the fluffy blanket in the front seat, wrapping it around you so you can snuggle and possibly fall asleep again. 

-In reality he wants to take more pictures of  you with drool dripping down your chin for blackmail purposes but you will not yield !!!

-The trip is mainly filled with music and low humming coming from the both of you. 

-Though when a love song that reminds him of you comes on he will lean over and grip your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze, a blush blooming on his cheeks. 

-Makes many stops in spots that look great for photos or having an amazing view. 

-Definitely has prepared a picnic basket and before you know it you are munching down on some sandwiches he made while your feet are dangling over a small cliff you happened to come across. 

-Shares random facts about nature and animals with you. 

-Shinsou strikes me as a guy who watches a lot of documentaries and animal planet shows, so he has obtained random information and now he is explaining the mating cycle of penguins. 

-Would definitely prefer to sleep in the car and not rent a room. 

-He wants to stay outside looking at the stars for as long as possible and then snuggle up with you in the driver's seat, your head against his chest and his hand buried in your hair. 

-If you want to go to a hotel because you feel more comfortable, he won’t complain. 

-As long as he gets to cuddle you anything is fine in his book. 

-He puts on YOUR song while you are looking at the sky and invites you to dance with him. 

-Wraps his arms around your waist and slowly sways you back and forth, following the rhythm of the song as he looks into your eyes. 

-He loves capturing the moment so expect many photos to be taken and a bunch of videos of you two dancing. 

-He has his crackhead moments though so you can expect to be shoved into the water if you’re near a lake or at the beach. 

-He might draw a mustache on you while you sleep but don’t worry you get payback when he is asleep. 

Bakugou Katsuki 

-Whines while you back everything. 

-And when I say whines I mean he grumbles under his breath about this stupid shirt that he can’t seem to fold correctly.

-Anyways once you hit the road he is more relaxed than usual. 

-He keeps this tight, aggressive persona out in public you sometimes forget that this man, this amazing partner is also a pro hero who is known for his rough edges. 

-Sure, his explosive behavior doesn’t disappear when he is with you but he is a lot tamer and calm around you.

-During the car ride he makes small talk with you, sharing random events from his patrols and stupid shit his “squad” have done while out in public. 

-When he comes home every night he is just so tired that many details slip his mind as he recounts his day to you, seeing him right now a genuine smile gracing his lips as his only focus is the road in front of him really warms your heart. 

-He becomes more affectionate. 

-Hand gripping yours while he drives or his palm on your thigh, rubbing your soft skin as he hums along with the music. 

-Even if he needs to switch gears he won’t let go.

-Surprisingly he is the type to put on an audio book after a while. 

-Usually it's after your wedding song is over or soon after that. 

-Your song is like a trigger and suddenly sophisticated Bakugou emerges asking you to pick an audiobook from his collection and put it on. 

-Gets really invested in the story and pauses it every five minutes so you can discuss it. 

- “She could have escaped through the window why the fuck did she let herself get caught?” 

- “No Katsu!!! She needs to make sure the prince is alive!!” 

- “That’s fucking dumb!” 

-Let’s you take candid pictures of him and won’t complain when you coo over how pretty he looks with the sun behind him. 

-Don’t worry he is plotting to fill his gallery of pics of you sleeping. 

-When you actually fall asleep he will turn the radio down and hum softly under his breath. 

-If it starts raining heavily he will pull over and wait for it to calm down a bit. 

-My personal headcanon is that Katsuki has a car with a skylight *if that’s what its called* so he brings the seats down and you lay there admiring the rain falling onto the glass. 

-He likes talking about more serious matters when you are like this. 

-From your future to what pet your future kids could have. 

-If you get cold while waiting for the rain to calm down, he has a blanket on the ready. 

-He places you on his chest and drapes the blanket over you, enjoying your warmth and the filling of your pulse under his fingertips. 

-Might get a little emotional if a slow song is playing. 

-He is just too overwhelmed by his emotions at times like these, when he can hold you and feel the pure love and adoration flow between the two of you like water. 

-I love you’s are exchanged and many kisses. 

-When he starts driving again he is so refreshed, it’s like a completely different person. 

-Gas station stops and bathroom breaks are a nightmare cuz he keeps hyping himself up in order to go into Bakugou public mode. 

-You just want your Katsuki, the cuddly Katsuki. 

TAG TEAM AY: 

@the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @dnarez​ @storage11037​ @ezoyscorner​ @letscheereachotheron​ @wolfkid22​ @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses​ @threeamwriting​ @ysatrap​ @yashinosakura

[shiningskiies]

✧✱ beach of stardust ✱✧

the night is quiet.

soft, foamy waves hum in your ears, a sweet tintinnabulation ringing as you stand at the edge of the starlit waters, gazing out at the horizon. the tender melody of the sea and the ocean breeze surround you, waltzing into a tinkling symphony as it dances on your skin lightly and takes you away, away into an ethereal world unlike anywhere you’ve ever been. 

it’s so rare to see a sky full of stars, but tonight, the world seemed to be in full bloom- blossoms of sparkles twirled over a backdrop of velvety blue, with light playful splashes of violet and coral sprinkled here and there, complimenting the deep sapphire of the night fading into darkness. the dim light of the stardust wash over the alabaster sand, . it’s so... it’s so majestic, so breathtaking, and yet it surrounds you with this sense of serenity that settles deep inside of you. it brings a gentle smile to your lips... everything’s always so hectic, that it’s just really... calming, and refreshing, to be able to relax like this.

all of a sudden you feel something lodged against your feet- it’s cold and hard, and you bend down to pick it up- it’s a crystal vial, filled with shimmering iridescent substance, casting a million rainbows over the sand as you hold it up and it catches the starlight, and its glow brushed the air around it lightly with cyan. your breath catches in your throat- it’s beautiful.

“a new encounter, another new blessing...” a voice whispers behind you, and you turn to see a young girl walking down the periwinkle-stained beach, smiling faintly at you. taken aback, you stumble backwards, and almost trip over your own feet as you wince and feel freezing water rush at your ankles as if it was a thousand ice-rimmed daggers piercing into your foot. 

“i see you’ve stumbled upon the legendary bottle of blessings... i wonder what blessings the starlight’s led me to this time?”

 .

 .

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✧ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

 .

ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ!

-

the girl stops in her tracks, her eyes widening, “oh! oh no, did i scare you? my apologies...” she smiles tentatively. “greetings! my name is arisa, but you can call me ari or risa if you’d like to.”

she- arisa- approaches you silently, her footsteps inaudible over the ivory sand, and gingerly removes the vial from your hands. the light illuminates her features as she holds the bottle with slender fingers, and in the half darkness, she looks... ethereal- almost as if she were a spirit. “this vial can grant anything you wish for... almost anything you wish for; however, there are some guidelines you should follow...” her fingertips flit restlessly over the gleaming crystal.

“after all... pure starlight, handled wrongly, is dangerous.”

-

- b l o g   g u i d e l i n e s -

 .

✧  firstly, please understand that i am a busy student studying abroad, and may not always have the time to write or be on tumblr! therefore, please be patient while i handle your request- rest assured i will get back to you when i can!

✧  i accept requests for scenarios / short scene-based oneshots, headcanons, character analyses, and letters from characters! when requesting, please specify which you’d like!

   -  scenarios and scene-based oneshots can be both x reader or just with canon characters, however i must limit the characters in the request to at most two characters, excluding reader; 

   -  letters can only be x reader, as they are addressed to the requester, and therefore please specify the name you are to be addressed by in the request if you are to ask for a letter!

    - due to time constraints, i unfortunately cannot offer you full-fledged oneshot requests, as i tend to go overboard and write at least 5k words for a simple oneshot;

✧ nsfw requests or any asks containing sexual/ outright triggering ( rape/ pedophilia/  content will not be accepted! please understand that i am an asexual minor, and will delete all asks inappropriate to my age; 

✧  please be kind and spread positivity! this is a hate-free safe space for people of all identities, religion, etc. and discrimination is not welcomed! i’m also a rather shy and sensitive person, so please don’t be too mean ;;;; 

✧  unfortunately, as of now, i cannot offer writing of staff members as i’m not confident in my ability to write them; i will also not accept any romantic requests of cheka or ortho! 

✧  unless requested otherwise, all works with yuu / reader included will have a gender neutral yuu / reader!

 .

- t a g s -

 .

wishing upon a star - requests

collecting stardust - my own art / drawings

bottling starlight - own writing 

stargazing - misc.

 .

❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✧ ╧╧╧╧ ❉

a soft, shy smile not unlike the silvery glow of the vial graces her lips as arisa finishes explaining. “if you follow all that, you should be safe and explosive free! you can remember all that, can’t you?” 

you nod, and her smile brightens- you can see her eyes shining just like the stars above you. the vial in her hands shimmer in the night, soft cerulean pushing away the murky mist of onyx in the air. you can’t help but stare at it in awe as it changes from its original azure to a dazzling shade of sweet sakura pink, and you can’t help but feel the roaring warmth of a fireplace in the midst of winter in your heart as you watch it sparkle in the dark. she notices your eyes on the stardust, and laughs a little- her laughter clear and melodic- as she takes one of your hands gently, and places the bottle in your hand, closing your fingers around it.

“well then- what’s your wish? perhaps my stardust can help you find your heart’s desire~”

 .

-

 .

requests are currently open!

posted - 24. 11. 2020

[loversandantiheroes]

Jigsaw - A Whouffaldi Fic - Part 4

Author’s Note: I know, it’s been eighty-four years, I’m so sorry guys.  Still not quite the end, but I’m bound and determined to get there before Christmas.  As ever, this is just my own flavor of wishful thinking, pieced together with a few headcanons and ideas.  Thanks again to @veradune  @sansaoftheborealvalley and @kingandcrook for their support and feedback.  You guys are fantastic <3

Summary: Because some pieces can’t be kept apart forever.  Post- Hell Bent reunion fic.  Part four of I’m-really-not-sure-anymore.

Rating: T

Warnings: Angst, suicidal ideation (in a vague fashion), general sappiness

Word Count: 2517

AO3 Link: here

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3

       before...

The stones beneath her are cold.  She kneels anyway, unfazed, not unfeeling but unaffected by the chill.  The Doctor's coat is rough under her hands, his shoulders steel-straight beneath.  He's cold too.  Frozen and cracking.

Four and a half billion years.

The tears come in a warm flood as she locks her fingers together behind the Doctor's neck, pulling his face as close as she dares.  She calls him by name; a name she shouldn’t remember, a day that never happened, but somehow here it fills her head like strange music, a half-forgotten melody.  

His hands shake, but his eyes settle on her properly at last.  A cold trickle from his mind to hers, like a draft in a haunted ruin, and she senses the hard fact of it, seven days all told between when he last stumbled out of the transporter and the breaking of the wall, but beyond that she feels the rest.  Borrowed memories.  His and not his.  Echoes  An ocean floor made of the skulls of his predecessors.

How many times had he died for the chance to save her?  How many times had she died to save him?

Her own death is one stilled heartbeat away, and the Doctor has endured something far more cruel just to bring her back.  If this is their last chance…

In her heart, she makes one last apology to the memory of Danny Pink for the promise she’s about to break.

These words, from me, are yours.  Forever.  After time stops.  After the last star goes dark.  Nothing but these words remain.  Do you understand?

His face softens; thaws.  The shadows in his eyes lengthen.  The hands that cup her face are trembling.

His name on her lips again, quiet, secret.  Part of her knows what it means to his kind, this kind of confession, this promise.  She has to get it right just this once.  She'd bind their hands if she could.  Her fingers curl into his hair instead.  Please God let me get it right.  

And then the words come, finally, with them an enormous sweep of relief.  Unlocked at last, the half-secret she'd kept caged in her chest.  Words she's said a scant handful of times before, and always wrong.  First time a weapon, second time a deception, third time a promise made as the phone line cut, clattered, the last thing Danny Pink had heard in his too-short life.  A declaration twisted into a death knell in her head, and her heart locked it up so tight she hasn’t dared speak it again until now.

I love you, she says, a rush of breath as he brushes her tears away.

After the last star goes dark, he says, and his voice breaks.  With all I am, and ever could be.  I love you Clara Oswin Oswald.  After the end of everything, I love you.

　　now...

The memory flitters around them, cold and sweet, and Clara feels the Doctor's hands grip her tighter.  He says nothing, but he doesn't need to.  What he feels, she knows.  There is a lightness in her chest, every heartbeat like the beating of wings.

Let me be brave, she thinks, the lightness unfurling, wings made of promise and memory.  I love you.

- Always.  I love you, too.

They fly.

　　then...

"Are you sure?" Me asks when Clara walks into the console room.  She's put on her clothes from Trap Street - death shroud by Marks and Spencer.  The unflappable immortal has a look of almost apologetic kindness on her face.

Clara smiles, a tight half-sickle.  The outfit's old enough by now it should've fallen to dust a few times over.  Perks of living in a time machine - saves money on mothballs and garment bags.  She's fished it out a handful of times.  After long days and bad days and close scrapes, but she's always wobbled at the last second.  Something would come up, or Me would give her one of those long looks of infinite patience that was her way of offering an out, her way of saying it was ok to not be ready.  This time, though, there was no bad day.  Nothing happened.  She'd just swung her legs over the edge of the bed and a part of her had said softly, but with great finality; now.

"Yes."  The certainty of the word gives both women pause.  "I'm-"  She falters.  What is she?  Sure?  No.  Tired.  Tired more than anything.  "Ready," she says.  "I'm ready."

She plunges her hands into the psychic interface on the console and the TARDIS lurches violently.

The landing is so gentle it's nearly anticlimactic. The lurch-and-shudder settles and Clara's already halfway to the door.  She's in a hurry now, get it done and over with, and as her hand settles on the doorknob she remembers where she's going, really going.  Not Gallifrey, but Trap Street.  And with a lurch, she remembers he would be there.  In the doorway just behind her.  The Doctor.  For the first time in so very long she would see his face again properly, and there is a sinking feeling in her chest.  One last look.  It almost feels worth the cost.

The light that streams in from the Diner's windows is burnished gold, the ground beyond that powdery and red.  In the distance there is a barn.  She's gone farther out than she's meant to, landed in the wastes.  The barn wavers in the heat and suddenly she can smell old hay and pungent earth, remembers the three of them standing there, the Doctor in triplicate, solemn as pallbearers in the coppery sunlight, can hear the phantom of the child he had been, sobbing in the cold darkness.  Her stomach does a neat backflip.  Too much.  Too many memories.  Things she thought she'd left behind.  They followed, that was the hell of it.  Slow enough, but they pick up and followed, doggedly, unwaveringly.  But always just behind, waiting to catch up.  There is a pressure behind her eyes, heat and pain, a knot in her throat.  Move, she tells herself.

Without another thought she storms out the doors and into the wastes, corners of her eyes prickling.  Outside the wind is hot, sun just a bit too bright through unshed tears, and she turns, stumbles, trying to get her bearings.  Surely they can't be so far from the citadel she wouldn't be able to see it - and then the bells sound.  She wheels at the sound and there it is, a red-gold spire under glass, and it holds her attention for just a second.  Because there are people coming.  A bloody great horde of people moving out from Citadel across the wastes towards her TARDIS.

"We've overshot," Me calls out.  She jogs up, hands thrust deeply into the pockets of her jacket.  "Twenty or thirty years, give or take, but....oh.  Were you expecting a welcoming party?"

"Not particularly, no."  Clara shrugs.  "Come to make sure I don't run off again I suppose."

They meet in the middle; two humans and hundreds of Gallifreyans.  And that's the bit that puts a furrow in Clara's brow.  Not Time Lords, just ordinary people.  There are no raised voices, no torches, no weapons, but all seem to regard her with a worrying intensity.  Folded in the arms of more than half of them is a book stamped in circular Gallifreyan script, but Clara can't make out the writing.  Too far away.  Rassilon's Guide to Proper Mob Etiquette for all she knows.  

"Not here for a fuss," she says.  Brave face on, she puts her hands up, turns slowly on the spot.  A mob might not be able to kill her, but she knew from experience that it could still hurt like hell if they decided they were angry enough at you to give it a go.  "I've come to turn myself in."

They stare back at her, solemn and yet...

Her step falters.

They are crying.

I don't understand, she starts to say, and then several things happen at once.

A rumble starts, something she doesn't hear so much as feel, a funny pressure in her ears.  And then, sliding over the horizon, a broad, insectile ship barrels towards them at great speed, skimming low over the hardpan.  The Doctor had told her about these, when Rassilon had sent a company to bring him in after he broke through the confession dial.  Sky tank, he'd called it.  Big ugly thing, like a helicopter made up to look like a mosquito's head.

"No!" a small voice wails.  "Clara, no!"

From the crowd, a little girl darts out.  A plump woman with greying ginger hair tries to snatch at her arm, mortified, but her fingers catch only empty air.  The sky tank bears down and Clara finds herself staring down the barrel of three probiscus-like canons as the little girl drops her book and throws her arms around Clara's waist.

The com crackles on and a tight, weary voice says, "ATTENTION ALL NON-MILITARY PERSONNEL, STEP AWAY FROM CLARA OSWALD."

Without a word, the crowd shifts out, surrounding the outsiders.

"Clara," Me says incredulously.

She cranes her head around.  "What?"

"The books," she says, a look of amused puzzlement on her face.  The unflappable has been flapped.  Clara follows her eyes to the volumes many of the crowd still clutch protectively.  The little girl's copy rests at her feet, traced in delicate, swooping lines of flaking gold leaf.  

The Hybrid, it says.

"What the hell is going on?"

"I REPEAT, ALL NON-MILITARY PERSONNEL PLEASE STEP AWAY FROM CLARA OSWALD."

"Oh for pity's sake," sighs a second exasperated voice.  "Is the Doctor with you?"

Not for a long long time.  "No," she calls out.  "The Lady Me and myself, that's all.  Scan the TARDIS if you like."  She points behind her, catching a dizzying view of the diner again surrounded by desert, painted in deep crimson and purple.  "Nobody here but us chickens."

The little girl tightens her grip on Clara's waist, small fingers pinching.  "No!" she wails.  "Don't let them!  Don't let them take her."

"MA'AM PLEASE," starts the first voice, "STEP AWAY FROM THE CROWD AND -"

"Oh will you just land the damned thing, boy!" a third, familiar voice says.

The com clicks off.  The cannon barrels rotate once, twice, then retract as landing platforms extend.  A hatch at the back opens, stairs descending.  

The General steps out onto the hardpan, grim-faced.  A shorter, red-draped woman with long graying hair follows in tow.

"Miss Oswald," the General says with a minuscule nod.  "Welcome back."

"Spare me."  The taste of copper floods her mouth.  The urge to spit in the General's grim, pretty face is almost overwhelming.  The General straightens, raises her head even as her eyes flick away to the dust.  A hint of shame.  Good.  Ohila stares straight on at Clara without so much as a flinch, not angry, not defiant, but scrutinizing.  She feels as if she's being puzzled out.

"What the hell do you think you're doing running at your own people with that thing?" she asks finally.  "They're unarmed.  We're unarmed."

"No offense, ma'am, but so was the Doctor.  Precautions had to be taken."

"Your shadow has grown long in your absence,” Ohila says, spreading her hands at the crowd.  “People have been telling stories."  Eyes tick over, taking stock.  Clara stares back.  Something registers in the old woman's face, and for half a second before she resolves herself back to an affectation of mild interest, she looks as if she might burst out laughing.

"Stories?  What stories?"

"What else?  Yours," Ohila says.  "And his."  She plucks a book from the hands of one of the crowd, begins to read.  "'The Hybrid: A true account of the deeds of The Doctor and his companion Clara Oswald in the wake of the Last Great Time War.'  First copies started circulating a few months after the two of you ran off.  It's grown quite popular."

The General steps forward and the crowd closes ranks tighter around Clara and Me.  "Ma'am, please," exasperated....no...worried.  "If you'll just accompany us back to the Citadel.  The extraction chamber is being prepared.  None of us wish to prolong this any more than it need be."

"A bit late for that, I should think," Ohila mutters.  A small smile tugs at her mouth.

“Please,” Clara says, not to the delegation but to the crowd fencing her in.  “I came back to do this.  It’s why I’m here.  If you’ve read that book, if you know my story then you have to know that.”

“Of course we do,” the plump old woman says.  The girl at Clara’s waist is sobbing now, and the woman places a gentle hand on her head.  “That’s why we came.  We wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for you and the Doctor.”

There’s fire in the old woman’s eyes when she looks at the General.  “We owe them better than this.  How many hearts on this planet still beat because of them?  How many lives saved?  I want to see you count them just this once.  We are all of us still drawing breath because of what they did.  And then you damned robed cowards repay them with traps and torture and death.”

Clara watches the General’s eyes drop again, sees the color creeping up her cheeks.  Such shame.  She’s almost proud of the old woman.  But right or wrong, it makes no difference now.  

“There’s no way out of this,” Clara says, putting that jagged streak of steel that’s always been in her into the words.  If she says it right, she’ll believe it.  If she says it right, maybe it will stop the tears that she can feel prickling the back of her eyes and the cold hard lump sticking in her throat.  “Believe me, the Doctor tried.  I tried.  I’ve been going on borrowed time long enough.  I didn’t come here to fight for my life.  I came here to end it.  I’m not afraid, not anymore.”

The plump woman shakes her head curtly and turns to Ohila, lips pressed to a tight, thin line.  “This isn’t right,” she says, pointing a crooked finger at the General.  “And you know it!”

“Her death-” the General began.

“Was senseless, pointless, and utterly your fault,” the other woman finished.

The General gawped.  “I -”

“Enough of this,” Clara says, and pushes the crying girl into the arms of her grandmother.  “Let’s go,” she says to Me, pushing her way through the crowd.  She turns to them once, eyes on the ground.  The little girl is still crying.  “Thank you for trying,” she says.  “It’s good to know there’s still decency on this planet somewhere.  But this has to happen.  Everything ends.”

A small, quavering voice.  “Not everything,” the little girl says between hitching sobs.  Tears cut clean streaks in the red dust on the girl’s cheeks.  “N-n-not,” she stammers, the rest is lost as she buries her face into the old woman’s apron.

Not love.  Not always.

Her feet can’t carry her onboard the ship fast enough.

[kindcstguardian]

MISC.

NAME. (くるす あきら)  Kurusu Akira. CODE NAME. Joker. ARCANA. The Fool. DATE OF BIRTH.  ( Star sign:  ). SEXUAL ORIENTATION. Bisexual demiromantic. LANGUAGES. Japanese &&. English. BLOOD TYPE. AB - HEIGHT.  175cm. WEIGHT.  kg.

VERSES.

Main verse. TAG.「 V ❥ ᴍᴀɪɴ ; Akira ／ᵃ ᵐᵒⁿᵒᶜʰʳᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ᵖʳᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵇᵉʸᵒⁿᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵐᵉᵉᵗˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉʸᵉ 」    Takes place at any point in the game depending on thread.

Pre-game verse. TAG.  「 V  ❥ ᴘʀᴇ ; Akira ／ 」     Before he was framed for acting accordingly to the situation, Akira lived a tranquil if not boring life with little to no friendships in his hometown.

Post-game verse. TAG.  「 V  ❥ ᴘᴏsᴛ ; Akira ／ ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢᵗ ⁱⁿᶜʳᵉᵃˢᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘᵗᵘʳᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉᵈᵉˢ· ᴾᵒˢˢⁱᵇⁱˡⁱᵗⁱᵉˢ ᵈᵉᶜʳᵉᵃˢⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵉᵍʳᵉᵗˢ ᵐᵒᵘⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ」    Time to bid his farewells, he ought to return home though what is home when he was  already  there? A new family that he had formed in this new enviroment that no longer was strange neither unknown — he had figured out both sides, dark and light. People, those with a good heart from the start that were willing to risk it all for a delinquent, the ones that didn’t judge him for actions he hadn’t commited in a rotten world whereas adult with wicked minds had been formely in charge. Yes, he will miss them all but he still gets to keep in touch and travel during long weekends thought it isn’t the same as before.

BNHA. TAG. 「 V   ❥ BNHA ; Akira ／ 」   Quirk.  Mirage:  by touching someone, Akira will be able to copy their physical appearance and keep it up for about a day and a half  ( this includes, reverting to himself back and forth ); however, if he wants to copy their quirk as well, he needs to consume something that contains the DNA  ( i.e. hair, body fluids, etc. )     in this case, he can only have  two quirks active at once  ( three counting his ), these last half an hour at most.                              Pushing himself beyond his limits will cause the quirks  to merge  and he would be unable to use them at all without hurting himself, hence why it depends greatly on which quirks he has in hand and  if  they are worth using together  ( i.e. ice-hot count as two already + explosion making it three: making dry ice and related to that ).                              The downside of using his quirk to its full potential  ( keeping someone’s appearance plus their quirk )  is that he really  can’t  break his concentration at all, constantly pushing mental barriers about acting on instinct while also recalling where a quirk ends and when another starts or it will all come appart, making him drop unconscious in the act.                               His quirk is extremely stressing to use at full,  therefore Akira usually chooses to either sharpen his observation and deduction skills by people-watching and taking both mental and actual notes for the copy their physical appearance; or... collect, ask on some cases, hair and keep it in a tiny handmade book filled with punched pockets with a zipper to always carry around. Just in case. School.   Not much changes from his background, the ravenette still bitter about how a majority of adults are corrupted as ever and will use their quirk if   their oh so fragile ego feels   threatened even though it’s against the law; honestly even though heroes are everywhere and exceed the quota, they literally  can’t be  everywhere at the same time. Nevertheless, being accepted in U.A. when such thing happened to him and forever appears in his files? What a jest.   Though he was surprised that a hero academy accepted him to begin with, already loving Ketsubutsu Academy. Some small headcanons. x The reason he wanted to become a hero is because  Hawks  saved him when he was twelve years old, his vague grasp of age and maturity made him feel like Hawks was an extremely cool adult, unlike his teachers who blatantly ignored the system and even picked on quirkless kids  going as far as to crush their dreams  ( so what if it was true?  That they could not be heroes, but they were kids.  Dreaming  was something they were supposed to do, not be crushed by reality. It would eventually wear off rather than leave a big invisible scar, wasn’t the bullying enough? ).    Plus, the more he learnt about the flying hero who patted his head followed by some inspiring words and a bird-related joke, the more Akira’s admiration grew: that man already had his agency and was a ranked high in the list right after his debut?  Maybe there was hope, there was something about Hawks that was so different to other heroes, he seemed to dislike fame, he wasn’t as loud as All Might or Endeavor but he didn’t pass as an underground or behind-the-scenes hero either. It was a mystery that, as a fan, he wanted to uncover despite being aware he could never. x His childhood friend actually came with the idea of his hero name being  Joker  and more card games related names for his attacks.

 My Candy Love / Amour Sucre. TAG. 「 V  ♡ MCL ; Akira ／ ʷᵃⁿᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᶜʰᵒᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗᵇᵉᵃᵗ ᵍᵘⁱᵈᵉˢ ᵐᵉ」    Sweet Amorris, quite the peculiar place in an extreme and unnecesary saturation of pink coloring the institution. Not to mention, right across the other side of the world in Paris, France — not that he minds the opportunity to futher expand his horizons. Though, he’d have been grateful if his parents were with him here rather than learning how to survive on his own.    He’s grateful of Daniel, though, a man who hired him as part-time worker and let him sleep in his office  ( who has a bed there? Apparently, bakers due waking up at five in the morning and closing for three hours in which they took a power-nap ).

Doki doki literature club.   TAG. 「 V • DDL ; Akira ／」    What’s the purpose of joining a club when the best one is  — clearly, without question —  the going-home-club? To review what he has done in classes at his own pace or proceed to study beyond, reading the textbooks and doing its exercises, looking for missing information in his phone or a library if he wanted that background noise and the need of other’s presence.    Still, he found himself being dragged into the Literature Club. It’s not like he ever raised a pen for poetry, perhaps, vague memories surfacing in his mind when he thought he could have a talent of sorts but it’s long dead by now. Still, the ravenette decided to consider it and is a not-official member.

Ephemeral: residents of the dark.   TAG. 「 V • ; Akira ／」   Trickster, that class of creature situates itself within the twenty more powerful ones. With habilities similar to a shape-shifter but also a contract demon, they are truly  the joker  — a wildcard — of monsters.   Along Chloé, the new zombie student, Akira finds himself as puzzled and lost as her.

Ouran High School Host Club.   TAG. 「 V • ᴏʜsʜᴄ ; Akira ／」    Takes place a year  after  the events of P5.    Akira ended up in a different school from his hometown given the few connections he previously had of what he could call friends or nice acquaintances didn’t bat an eye at him. Which is why, he entered Ouran High School through a scholarship due not wishing to spent the money he has from beating shadows back at Mementos go to ‘waste’  neither  spent his last year of highschool surrounded by those who judge rather than attempt to find the truth.    Because of his background history, the institution was not fond of the idea but he did display a high level of intelligence, strategy and physical strenght enough to make their mind change ever so slightly.    Once he managed to enter, Akira still uses his glasses despite not being needed to fix his eyes but to cover his ‘neutral and scary expression’ and actually joined the Host Club under the delinquent persona that, oddly, sells quite a lot. Initially, many females were intimidated but found him utterly charming and returned to ask for him.

Yan Sim / Lovesick.  TAG. 「 V •  ; Akira ／」   Takes place a year  after the events of P5.    Delinquents were, apparently, quite the normal sight within Akademi High despite being a prestigious institution with brillaint students already making connection with the world to guarantee a future within the industries. Turns out, that Akira was accepted without further care in his background  ( after all, there were Aishi students too, and from the information he could gather — they were no better ). Without joining a club in particular, Akira is trying to live quietly until, perhaps, something were to take place and caught his interest to intervene...

Big Hero 6. TAG. 「 V •  ; Akira ／」    Takes place two years  after the events of P5.     Having just graduated from highschool, Akira is puzzled at what he wishes to become in his future while he still keeps in touch with his friends and former Phantom Thieves, he still isn’t sure of what he wants to do. Thus, he mostly takes a part-time job in a café in San Fransokyo.

Inuyasha / Feudal Era. TAG. 「 V •  ; Akira ／」    Born from a human and a demon, Akira is yet another victim of judgemental stares and hatered due being a hanyo, an hybrid: humans  fear  his demonic heritance whereas demon hate his human side, seeing him as lower than dirt.    Still, he stopped minding that and lives peacefully — only those from his village know what he is, whereas visitors or if he travels, it’s impossible to tell he is any different unless in combat or if he feels threatened. Whilst demons can smell his scent and pinpoint that he  isn’t  normal.

Eldarya / Fantasy. TAG. 「 V •  ; Akira ／」    After a month of the events that took place, Akira feels that he is being followed in his hometown and when he subtly turns around, he is, indeed, being followed but what caught his attention had to be — that it  wasn’t  a human that was after him, but some sort of creature he could swear was a shadow.     Unbeknown to him, that was only part of the plan  ( and the trap waiting for him )  due the ravenette decided to run off towards a place where others wouldn’t be hurt while feeling that thing chasing after him — that’s where he landed in the circle of witches and was dragged into a world, an alternative dimension, co-existing with Earth. He, too, realized he was with his Joker attire.    Without a clue on what took place, Akira decided to investigate and joined the Garde L’Ombre, to know beyond what was labelled as public knowledge for his sake and to help here as much as he could. If he was going to be stuck for an unknown amount of time, it was better to help rather than cross his arms. Currently, he lives in the headquarters of the Garde.

Royalty. TAG. 「 V •  ; Akira ／」    Born into a poor family, his best choice was either to join into knighthood for the good pay and climb his way up until reaching a commander point or become part of the royal staff — he chose the latter and currently mantains the highest position within servants and is both respected and feared by fellow personal.

TITLE. TAG. 「 V • ; Akira ／」 TBA.

TAGS.

「 Akira Kurusu ／ 𝙹𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚛 」

「 Akira Kurusu ／ MUSINGS 」

「 Akira Kurusu ／ INQUIRY 」

「 Akira Kurusu ／ VISAGE 」

「 Akira Kurusu ／ MANNERISMS 」

「 Akira Kurusu ／ ROMANCE 」

「 Akira Kurusu ／ CRACK 」

「 𝙿𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚖   𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚜／ VISAGE 」

✘· Haru Okumura ♡（ˢʰᵉ ⁱⁿˢᵗⁱˡˡˢ ᵍʳᵃᶜᵉ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵒⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ&ᵈⁱᵛⁱⁿⁱᵗʸ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵃʳᵉˡᵉˢˢ ᵍᵉˢᵗᵘʳᵉˢ·ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ'ˢ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵘᵐᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ʰᵉʳ）

[wasgentle-archive-blog]

headcanon: susan doesn’t keep very many photographs of her siblings on display, even long after the end of their story. it hurts too much, always, too look always at their faces frozen in time, young and laughing. she does keep their photographs, for when she feels she MUST see them, when missing them overwhelms grieving them, but these are kept in albums lovingly kept, dusted and waiting, on bookshelves. the picture she keeps is one taken by the professor just before they were to return home. late evening sunlight, they’re all four laughing, a moment’s joy in the wilderness of doubt and regret and longing that came with their return. lucy clings to peter’s shoulders, her golden hair wind-caught, half across her face. and peter’s grinning, holding lucy’s legs behind the knee, turned to look at edmund who has just said something that made them laugh (he’s laughing, too, but more sedately, something self-possessed and self-aware in the turn of his lips, satisfaction at this reaction.) and then there’s susan, arm looped through edmund’s, turned to meet peter’s eye above his head, her dark hair caught in the same breeze sweeping lucy’s, but swept away, clearing her face (free of makeup, free of the mask-like impassivity it later gained)  no matter where she is, it’s kept with her always, always somewhere prominent - - a tabeltop, a mantelpiece. that frozen moment, captured, perfect. 

[wasgentle-archive-blog]

HELEN PEVENSIE is a good woman, a good mother, but even she had her favorites. and her first daughter, pretty and ladylike from the very beginning, always held a place of high esteem. 

she had not been EXPECTING to have another child so soon after the first, had always intended to wait at least another year, but things didn’t quite go according to plan. susan was a surprise, but a pleasant one. the little family was young, yes - - had their struggles financially, but they were getting by, and another baby was a joy, not a hindrance. 

as a baby and as a young child, susan clung quite close to her mother, always, and had a charming little way of mimicking her (facial expressions, intonation, phrasing, walking - - when she had learned to). susan was HERS in an entirely different way than peter had been, in an entirely different way than the others would come to be. a little mirror, in which she could see only the good reflected back. oh, susan had her flaws, yes, but the flaws were her own - - not helen’s flaws in clear reflection. 

as she grew, this trend continued. and susan grew into the kind of person who desires to live up to expectations, particularly those of her mother. so every reflecting quality that was ever praised was enhanced: her politeness, her charm, her practicality. and susan emulated her mother. strove to be like her, to do whatever she asked - - and do it perfectly.

so when susan was told it was “up to you to look after your younger siblings,” she took the tasking very seriously. and with peter already acting the responsible older brother, she took on a more mothering role with her siblings, particularly the younger pair. (most particularly with lucy). 

following her return from narnia, susan is changed - - more adult, more independent, regal, and it confuses their mother to a great degree. confuses and hurts, because the child who used to follow her, stay by her side, learn from her, now seemed not to need her at all. they argued in a way that didn’t feel like arguing, that felt more like helen’s frustration and fear and pain escalating as susan simply sat there, back straight, hands folded, watching. which, of course, served only to make the situation worse for mrs. pevensie. until, at last, she broke one day - - just before mr. pevensie was to go to america - - began to cry in the most heartbreaking way, asked what she had done, what was wrong, what had happened. and susan, gentle heart broken by this, could only reassure her, make a promise to herself that she wouldn’t cause this pain again - - she’d be more like she used to be, before. 

if helen had known what this would cause for her daughter, she would never have allowed it to happen. yet, to her eye, it served only to bring her daughter back. the weeks in america were a godsend to helen, who saw - over those weeks - susan become much more like the way she had been. a more grown-up version, yet HER susan again, not the changeling creature who had come back to london. seeing her mother’s approval, and natural old inclination to please her rising to the surface, susan chased things they could relate to, starting first with clothing, then with makeup. and helen LIKED seeing her daughter grow, liked seeing her receive invitations from friends, it seemed like a success. she did not know, could not know, what was tearing at susan, that it was tearing her apart from her siblings, that it would mean more than susan growing into a beautiful young woman with a bright social future. it was never her FAULT, but she was - unknowingly - an influence. 

[wasgentle-archive-blog]

Unpopular Opinion Thingy + narnia?

send me a 🔥 for an unpopular opinion! : (accepting)

ok there might be a lot of these i need to Vent. 

it seems relatively (and by that i mean i’m not the only person to believe it) popular here, but it doesn’t seem to be as highly-regarded an opinion elsewhere that the aesthetic/build/fashion of narnia might be closer to something like ancient rome/ancient greece than the middle ages. i don’t know. i think a land where there haven’t REALLY been humans in ages wouldn’t go from that to middle-ages-type garb without something in between. i think it’s possible that it slowly BECOMES more like, particularly after the pevensies depart. but. i don’t know. i tend to picture ARCHENLAND being more medieval/middle-age-y than narnia, i don’t know, friends. 

AND THEN there’s this idea that narnia? is a paradise? like some fairy tale world where everyone is kind and good and Nothing Bad Happens Ever and i can’t stress enough how WRONG that is. narnia is fallen, in much the same way earth is. the parallels there are exceedingly strong. it’s created by aslan singing everything into being, and then darkness slips in with jadis (awakened by a human being’s folly/not listening to directions/you get the idea). narnia has its darkness. it’s wild and untamed and, in the time of the pevensies’ rule, still host to the witch’s followers and others who wouldn’t have wanted strange sons of adam and daughters of eve ruling over them. there were giants and wars (and wars WITH giants) and all manner of other things. the pevensies did not have a peaceful land to rule, but one wild and war-like and ONLY JUST RECOVERING FROM A HUNDRED YEARS OF WINTER. of course, lewis’ depictions of animals like…sitting down for tea? probably doesn’t help that image much? but it’s definitely THERE. the paradise everyone with that idea is thinking of is the NEW NARNIA. 

also, everything in narnia is alive. i’m pretty much convinced of that. the stars are people. there is a literal End of the Earth where the sky and sea meet. this concept isn’t too far fetched. EVERYTHING is living/sentient in some way. the ground. the sky. the seas. cair paravel. maybe not sentient in quite the same way that the people/talking animals are, but in a way much different from the way of things on earth. 

[wasgentle-archive-blog]

i love it when i go back to re-read and something i had THOUGHT/FELT about susan is supported by text i had forgotten about. in this case, i’m thinking about one of the handful of mentions susan gets in dawn treader: 

““still playing your old game?” said eustace clarence, who had been listening outside the door and now came grinning into the room. last year, when he had been staying with the pevensies, he had managed to hear them all talking about narnia and he loved teasing them about it.””

now, i could be reading too much into this, but two things mark susan’s presence in this to me. first, “oh, eustace, it’s only a game we like to play, you see?” would be a tidy, susan-like explanation for eustace catching them all talking about narnia. their parents are already look a bit askance at the changes that have come over most of them, at the strange new closeness of the four, and having eustace tell them anything more than “they play a funny game” would have cause undue trouble. 

second, he had managed to hear them ALL talking about narnia. susan, at least a year before the events of dawn treader and likely during them as well, was still actively participating in talking about narnia with her siblings she was still THERE, still queen susan the gentle. 

and then she goes to america with her parents. 

of course, lewis likely doesn’t send susan to america as anything more than a reason to focus on lucy and edmund, which is perfectly fine. but he does say: 

“it would have cost too much money to take the other three all to america, and so only susan had gone.grown ups thought her the pretty one of the family and she was no good at school work (though otherwise very old for her age) and mother said she “would get far more out of a trip to america than the youngsters.”” 

this is seen as “good luck” by the two others, but i’m not convinced susan particularly wanted to go, particularly as it would have separated her from the others. nor do i really see reason for only susan and t heir mother to go at all - - mr. pevensie was going to be gone six weeks. if they couldn’t afford to take the whole family, it might have made more sense for mrs. pevensie and susan both to stay behind, or else for just mrs. pevensie to go. i see this as a parental concern for susan and for the others - - i think the changes wrought by growing up and ruling narnia would have been seen most clearly/starkly in the older two than in the younger two (young children change, after all, they might have reasoned. perhaps it’s just a stage). and their mother, worried at the changes that made her daughter seem so suddenly much older, strangely close with her siblings, particularly with peter? it might have worried her. so she took susan to america because she would “get far more out of it” and because maybe time away from her siblings - - and directly spent with helen and jack - - would have an influence. 

and it likely did. 

susan’s descent toward the person she becomes by the last battle (and i would argue quite strongly that it IS a descent, that she is not the person she’s supposed to be at that time) begin - -  slowly at first, then gathering speed - - when the three return to england. 

[wasgentle-archive-blog]

susan was kept from the real narnia because she was too feminine / a woman / an adult.

send me a misconception you think people have about my character and I’ll explain if it’s true or not : (accepting) 

haha wow you knew just the question to ask to distract me from returning to my reading! :)   this is the misconception of all misconceptions and it drives me BANANAS. susan was kept from the real narnia because her story isn’t over - - because she wasn’t on the train when it crashed - - because she’s still alive, and still has time to get there! nothing is KEEPING her from returning to narnia (at the right time) but HERSELF by the time we see her again. and the “too feminine” thing drives me to distraction, we don’t see OTHER women kept out of narnia simply for being “foo feminine” or “for being a woman,” (and i mean, heck, PETER is more an adult than susan by the time he reaches the real narnia, the professor even more so!) and susan’s attention to nylon and lipsticks and invitations isn’t in itself the issue. the issue is that she’s putting the world, putting the material, over narnia. she’s rejecting narnia of her own free will, pretending it doesn’t exist and trying to bully her siblings into the same way of thinking. (and driving others to sin is a pretty great sin in itself, which is…pretty much what she’s trying to do, to be honest, with full knowledge of what she’s doing). susan is angry and hurt and mourning, but those things in themselves don’t give excuse or reason. 

if susan had returned to london and kept faith in narnia and kept faith with her siblings AND liked lipsticks and nylons and invitations (but not more than such things should be liked in any healthy way, not in a way that makes them a PRIORITY in the way they’re a priority for susan) she would have been involved in the events of TLB and on that train and entering aslan’s country with the rest of them. but all of those elements - - the nylons, the lipsticks, the invitations - - are also more symbols than they are objects. they’re symbols of susan willingly trading one world for another, throwing herself into being what she believes an adult should be. essentially worshipping the things of the world as false idols - - a parallel to putting something before god, which is in defiance of the first commandment if we want to get biblical with these arguments. 

no, susan wasn’t kept from narnia for being feminine or interested in pretty things, or going to dances, or smoking cigarettes, or wearing lipstick. she was kept from narnia because she still needs to find aslan in her own world  because she’s being given time to see the end of her redemption story. 

[wasgentle-archive-blog]

A Concept: an archery lesson during school in england (post PC) and susan absentmindedly just stringing her bow and making the target with so much grace and without error that there’s a moment’s pause - - she has to laugh it off as beginner’s luck, because susan pevensie of england has NEVER TOUCHED A BOW BEFORE, but queen susan of the horn knew hers as well as any limb, and some muscle memories never fade, and she has to remind herself to be more cautious, not to give so much away (she doesn’t touch a bow again until after the train crash) 

[wasgentle-archive-blog]

Meta on Susan being 'The Pretty One' !!!

ASK ME QUESTIONS ABOUT SUSAN! : (always accepting) 

heck, i knew i could count on you! :3 

so i’m not sure susan really has a concept of this until they return from narnia?? which is to say - - i think she has a concept of herself as beautiful. i don’t think there’s much escaping that, particularly when one has suitors vying for one’s hand as much as susan did. but it was never in a superlative sense, never in a way that would have put her in a way “above” any of her siblings. nor was it her defining feature! that was always her gentleness in narnia. her beauty is just as much a fact as the color of her hair, and paid just as much attention. 

it’s when they come “home” that everything changes. she looks exactly as she did when they went to the professors in a physical sense, but the way she carries herself has changed. there is a grace and a confidence and something in her eyes and the expressions of her face that make her seem more beautiful than she had, before. and as she grows, of course - - she is still the same person she was in narnia in a physical sense - - she becomes as beautiful as she had once been. it becomes particularly evident as she moves into her teens, and that grace and bearing meet with more mature features. add to that the fact that susan is always very neat and very well put-together - - hair brushed and styled, face washed, any makeup clean and well-applied, etc, these things lend to a beautiful appearance. 

it’s then that the adults begin to take notice. their PARENTS don’t call her “the pretty one” though some of the things they say and do lend to allusion to it. it’s other family members, family friends, and teachers who say things. who call her “the pretty one,” who say she’s “the beauty of the family,” and it makes susan wildly unhappy (lucy is beautiful too, she wants to scream! and aren’t i more than pretty?), but she handles it with more grace than would be expected of an uncomfortable teenager. smiles, accepts any compliments, changes the subject as soon as she can. 

of course, these things begin to sink in, particularly as she becomes more aware of the way their changed mannerisms are perceived, particularly as she wants to blend into the world of england. “the pretty one” becomes the way she identifies herself, and while it lends to some vanity, there’s also a sort of cynicism to it, an apathy. a “this is how i’m seen, so this i shall be.” she enhances her appearance, learns to apply cosmetics masterfully, makes herself “the beauty” as a way to solidify identity she doesn’t feel she has, now. (who notices gentleness? who celebrates that here? always, it seems, someone wants her to be MORE, wants her to be OTHER, and it wears and wears and wears at her until she starts to drown in it). 

in england, i think she starts to see her beauty both as something she can USE and as a sort of CURSE. she can hide behind it, but that’s because no one seems interested in knowing what’s beneath it. it’s a shell that can protect her, can make her not the sad, forgotten one, but someone with a certain power. she likes the way it makes people look at her, but not the way they seem to think they can possess her (she is a queen! no-one owns her! no one can!). she can’t escape the dual nature of that, and it only becomes another facet of her anger and her grief and her hurt. 

[wasgentle-archive-blog]

↳ Repost! Don’t reblog!

╳ Flaws

moody | short-tempered | emotionally unstable | whiny

controlling | conceited | possessive | paranoid | lies

impatient | cowardly | bitter | selfish | power-hungry

greedy | lazy | judgmental | forgetful | impulsive

spiteful | stubborn | sadistic | petty | unlucky

♔ Strengths

honest | trustworthy | thoughtful | caring | brave

patient  | selfless | ambitious | tolerant | lucky

intelligent | confident | focused | humble | generous

merciful | observant | wise | clever | charming

cheerful | optimistic | decisive | adaptive | calm

TAGGED BY:no one, i snagged it from @ofvaliancy

[wasgentle-archive-blog]

the SPLENDOR HYALINE was not first-built of narnian fleet, but last of all - - and so most perfect. a royal galleon of such light wood it looked, in moonlight, white as swan feathers. indeed, the ship was carved to resemble the graceful bird - - smooth, sweeping curves, prow carved swan’s head, and wings reaching back to the waist. its many sails are made of whitest silk, and on deck tall stem lanterns give off a lovely light. 

the splendor is impressive - - - built for pleasure mostly, and yet equipped for battle. made to outrun any ship of calormen, and - - of course! - - well-armed. threats to NARNIA are many, threats to its royals known. equipped for battle though it is, still this was no war-ship. it was often used instead by narnia’s queens, in particular THE GENTLE who had for the splendor hyaline a special dear regard. 

the ship was made for her, presented in surprise - - - made as a swan for swan-like queen, and important reflection - - for narnians now swiftly came to call queen susan ‘swanwhite’s heir,’ she who (beautiful and fair) ruled before queen jadis ever did. 

and susan used her vessel well - - she and LUCY took it often, sailing off to THE SEVEN ISLES,  to TEREBINTHIA, to GALMA and to the LONE ISLANDS. it was in the splendor hyaline that susan and her brother edmund traveled off to calormen, and the splendor hyaline that saved them. 

yet TRAVEL is not splendor’s only talent, no - - - quite often she is used for feasts and dances, lit with many lanterns and bright-colored garlands, decked with flowers, laden with food. anchored just off shore. there pevensie court and favored guests would come for food and dance and merriment, lasting well into the night and through ‘til morning, moon fading in night sky, replaced by sunrise light, watched by all in sleepy content from ship’s deck. 

upon the pevensie’s disappearance, the ship was used no longer - - - too much memento of QUEEN SUSAN. and then one night - - when years had passed - - it simply vanished, unmoored, perhaps. but there are those who say the water-nymphs, mourning sure loss of their dear friend and gentle queen, took it up upon their shoulders into the ocean, drowned it deep below the waves. (to keep it for themselves or preserve it from hands of later rulers, no storyteller seems to know. )

[wasgentle-archive-blog]

TITLES/EPITHETS: queen susan the gentle - - - susan of the horn - - - barbarian queen -- - the eventide queen - - - lady of the sea - -  springtime’s queen - - - queen of blossoms - - -  queen of cair paravel - - - the starlight queen 

[wasgentle-archive-blog]

susan’s favorite color is ROYAL BLUE, and she will often wear white or ivory decorated with the color. she prefers SILVER over gold, and most of her jewelry and embellishment on her clothing is silver. leaves and flowers dominate the decoration scene, though in very modest ways (the pattern lining a sash is made up of tiny flowers, embroidery on a sleeve or hem - - silver leaves.) she is known to wear armbands and rings most often, though necklaces and bracelets make their appearances, too. day to day she does not wear crowns, but circlets and other headbands/hair jewelry are very common.