#Wendy Peyser

[deadlesbianfight]

Dead Lesbian Fight - Bracket and Round 1 Masterpost

Group A

Tara Maclay -- Moving on to Round 2

Leslie Shay vs Chloe Price

Charlie Bradbury vs Queen Annika & Queen Neha

Jenny Schecter vs Nora Hildegard

Dani Clayton vs Valerie (V for Vendetta)

Kira (The Magicians) vs Marina Andrieski

Poussey Washington vs Wendy Peyser

Naomi Campbell vs Ymir (Attack on Titan)

Group B

Lexa vs Helen Schiff

Shotgun Mary vs Mary Louise

Riley Abel vs Paulie Oster

Peach Salinger vs Denise Cloyd

Root vs Cat Mackenzie

Lily Baker vs Bill Potts

Dana Fairbanks vs Bizzy Forbes

Tara Chambler vs Tricia Miller

[bonnieblue727]

Welcome to Briarcliff S02E01

In present day, a newlywed couple, Teresa and Leo, explore the now-abandoned Briarcliff Manor, a former insane asylum in rural Massachusetts.

Kit protests his innocence and flashes of his scattered memory suggest something far more sinister responsible. At Briarcliff, Kit befriends Grace, a fellow inmate believed to have murdered her family.

Journalist Lana Winters trespasses onto Briarcliff, intent on exposing its mistreatment of inmates, so she can gain a better career for her and for her lover Wendy Peyser, a teacher. She is confronted by the tyrannical Sister Jude, who has her committed to the asylum because of her homosexuality. A bitter rivalry is ignited between Sister Jude and Dr. Arthur Arden.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Fun fact, Clea DuVall, who played Graham in the 1999 movie "But I'm A Cheerleader"

Also played Wendy Peyser in American Horror Story: Asylum

The more you know @deppressedphrog

[mulherviado]

Lana Winters and Wendy Peyser... They deserved so much better.

[ratchedspeach]

What about Lana Winters reminiscing on Wendy?

Oh so you’re looking for pain tonight, are you little nonnie? Nevertheless, here you are! Also thought you should know I listened to A Burning Hill by Mitski while writing this. Give it a listen, I think it will inform my headspace (-:

I’ll Love The Littler Things

The stairway stands before Lana like a goddamned funeral procession. Dead leaves are strewn across the front porch, and where they do not cover the once whitewashed deck, she can see month’s worth of dirt and grime greying the surface. Wendy hates that. Lana sucks her lower lip between her teeth, chewing on the bits of dried skin she finds until she’s breathing somewhat evenly again.

She’s not able to speak about her in the past tense - not yet. She’s been free of Briarcliff for less than a full day. She’s talked to police officers, doctors, and more nuns than she’d ever cared to encounter. She’s told her story, told Wendy’s story. Still, she can’t speak it into existence for herself, because if she can just preserve that for herself, then the body on Thredson’s floor that she’d wept over and been forced to degrade remains anonymous. If she can talk about it like she’s still here, then maybe when she opens the front door, she’ll be met with the scent of pot trickling through the living room, with The Everly Brothets brother blasting over the record player, and Wendy’s smile that makes her black eyes crinkle.

She isn’t, of course. Stretched before her is the familiarity of a space she no longer recognizes. A chair at the dining table has been knocked over, dried blood and glass litter the hardwood floor, and a curtain has been ripped beyond repair. She fought hard. Lana blinks at a black box on the dining table. She approaches it with bated breath and slow steps until she’s within arm’s reach. Her fingers trace a line in the dust she finds settled atop it, and she clicks the latch.

Inside is a matchbox, some paper, and a distinct plastic bag of green. The weed’s scent is dull with time, and dry to the touch. It crumbles between her fingers, and with it goes Lana’s resolve. Tears push to the forefront of her vision, blearing her sight and mixing with the fine sheen of sweat permeating her cheeks and lower lip. She sucks in a breath and let’s it go too quickly, and then again, and again, until she can’t stop herself from seeing every moment that they had spent in this house; every Christmas they’d spent, every shower they’d shared, every dance they’d danced.

“God, Wendy. Ih-I’m sorry.” She wails, collapsing into a chair. The weed is held tight in her white knuckled grasp, and she clutches it to her chest, buckling at the middle so her forehead is practically touching her knees. Lana doesn’t know how long she cries for, only that it’s dark when she is able to break away from the rememberances.

Wind whips through the shattered glass of a window, and Lana shivers, the hair on her arms prickling. She pockets the baggie deep into her coat. She doesn’t move, not right away. Her time at Briarcliff has made her frail from malnutrition and sheer trauma, and she’s learned the hard way that standing too quickly usually sends her toppling over again. When she finally does stand, she’s not sure what for. She can’t bring herself to go to the living room for fear of seeing a photograph of them, can’t even fathom entering their bedroom for obvious reasons. Her fingers tap the cool metal of Wendy’s box, and she pulls it towards herself. It’s left a square spot of clean varnish on the table where it was protected from debris.

Something slams shut as another gust of wind bothers the broken window. Lana yelps, eyes screwing shut as her mind twists reality with the icebox in the basement that was once her prison. She drops Wendy’s box with a clamor, backing against a wall and letting her fingers scrape the wallpaper. Lana finds a light switch before she can allow the darkness permeating the space to play any further tricks on her mind. Warm light pools through the kitchen, accenting the dish left uncleaned in the sink, and the half empty bottle of wine on the counter.

This is all wrong. She shakes her head. All fucking wrong. She shouldn’t be here, not without Wendy. It feels like she’s trespassing on abandoned property; Lana supposes she is to some extent. The place had sat vacant for so long, a sort of limbo between the love and destruction that had taken place here. She wonders what she had been doing when Bloody Face found her. If she had died here, or if he’d waited until he had her in the basement. If he’d touched her here, if he’d -

“No.” She commands, electricity buzzing in her ears. She will not think of this, not here, not now. Not until she can bury Wendy, and give her the dignity she deserves. Thredson had taken enough from her, he would not take up any more space in her mind.

Exhaustion rattles through Lana’s system. She realizes she hasn’t eaten all day, but she can’t bring herself to open the fridge (she doubts there’s anything edible after so many months, anyway).

Everything reminds her of Wendy, but nothing makes her feel close to her. With the understanding that she is stuck living with the pain crackling through her chest, she makes her way up the stairs to the bedroom they once shared. There’s a set of pajamas draped on Wendy’s side of the bed. Lana perches next to them, fingers hovering just above the clover green material. She lies on her side, and her palm rests against the silk. The bed doesn’t smell like her anymore. Lana feels a damp spot forming on the comfertor beneath her.

When she wakes up, she’s still clutching Wendy’s pajamas like it’s a child’s security blanket. Lana rubs the last of the sleep from her eyes and cringes when her back protests as she sits up. Her head throbs, her muscles ache, Lana hasn’t looked in a mirror for months; she’s not sure exactly how long. She had caught glimpses of herself in the treys at Briarcliff’s bakery, or the various metal surfaces in Therdson’s factory of death, but nothing more. Her curiosity gets the best of her, and she pushes off the bed towards the bathroom.

The mirror presents her with a person she does not recognize. The rose of her cheeks is gone, replaced by gaunt cheekbones and a protruding jawline. Bruises and cuts litter her face and neck - some new, some fading. Her eyes are dull, her hair is brittle, her lips are chapped. Something catches the corner of her vision in the mirror, a flash of jet black hair.

“Wendy.” She breaths, spinning fast enough to create specks of black in her vision. Lana blinks hard, bracing herself against the bathroom sink. As her eyes refocus, she realizes the folly of her error. “You better get used to this.” I won’t. I can’t.

It’s just barely dawn. The sun rises against the brisk fall weather in hues of orange and yellow. Clouds streak the sky, and it reminds her of fire and smoke.

They used to lie out in the grass naming the shapes of clouds. Lana had always found it juvenile, but Wendy loved it. She would lie with her legs crossed, squeezing her hand and pointing whenever she saw something in one of them. Lana remembered spending more time looking at Wendy than the sky. There, hidden by the shrubbery on the perimeter of their property, they were secluded from the rest of the world. She could kiss Wendy in the grass, trace her cheek, and rest her head atop her chest.

Lana doesn’t know she’s outside until the last of the memory fades behind her eyes. She sits down, fingers tracing the dead grass. The dry earth tickles the back of her neck and head when she lies down. She watched the clouds and tries to name a few, ignoring the tears streaking freely down her cheeks in rivulettes.

She hears Wendy’s voice in the wind, feels her presence in the grass next to her, and she aches.

[nothingtosaytoyou]

Asylum Tarot - Wands

Complete Work - Store

[sleazyjanet]

I love Lana Banana.

[beatriceinmessina]

My primary AHS ships (SPOILERS)

I feel like I’m in this weird niche of shipping canon ships that existed for maybe twenty minutes, or ones that would never happen.  These are my AHS ships:

Alma/Kit.  They were adorable, okay?  They were so adorable and sweet and loving and I HATE that the aliens had to ruin their lives like that!  I just need to write some AU where they’re happy.

Lana/Wendy.  I also found these two to be adorable and sweet and yes, Wendy commits Lana, but then she immediately decides to recant the next day and get her out.  AND THREDSON HAD TO GO AND RUIN IT, THE BASTARD.  I also need an AU where they’re happy.  And friends with Alma and Kit.

Rory/Audrey.  They were just so sweet together!  They had this Michael Schur TV show couple dynamic and I was living for it!  And then he died!  STOP TAKING MY SHIPS AWAY FROM ME, MESSRS. MURPHY AND FALCHUK.

Ally/Kai.  Okay.  I fully acknowledge that this one was never going to happen.  Ever.  Ally’s gay.  Kai terrorized her.  Even if she was interested in men, I highly doubt she’d go for him.  He tried to kill her.  She killed him.  It’s horrible.  But it’s so interesting?  When she’s in his cult (albeit as a mole) they have this weird almost husband-wife dynamic that reminds me of the Macbeths, and some of their banter reminds me of Katherine and Petruchio in The Taming of the Shrew.  This is honestly just my big guilty pleasure ship.  I know it’s horrible.  I ship it anyway just for the fascination it brings me.

That’s it.  I appreciate you reading this late-night ramble, if you did.

[druish--princess]

I’m thinking of starting an AHS Asylum rp on Discord. If that sounds like something you’d be interested in,tap that ♥️.

[darkitsunex]

Zodiac Signs as AHS Asylum Characters:

Aries- Dr.Arden, Johnny Morgan

Taurus- Possessed Mary Eunice/ Satan

Gemini- Sister Mary Eunice, Leo

Cancer- Alma Walker, Frank McCann, Sam Goodman

Leo- Shelley, Spivey

Virgo- Pepper, Lana Winters

Libra- Grace Bertrand, Anne Frank/Charlotte

Scorpio- Shachath

Sagittarius- Sister Jude Martin/Judy Martin, Leigh Emerson

Capricorn- Kit Walker, Wendy Peyser, Carl

Aquarius- Dr.Oliver Thredson

Pisces- Monsignor Timothy Howard

[wastesouls]

 @licbilities​

         it’s early;  early  enough that  dew  drops  still  cling  to  the  brilliant  green  grass  of  the  academy’s lawn  and  a  thin  mist  still  haunts the  grounds  like  a  phantom,  the  sun  not  yet  bright  enough  to  vanquish  it  back  from  whence  it  came.  brown  eyes  examine the  grounds  from  behind  the  glass  of  a  kitchen window,  and  wendy  peyser  shakes her  head  in  disbelief.  she  turns  her  head  at  the  sound  of  soft  footsteps.  none  of  the  girls  are  awake  yet,  she  knows.  and  even  if  they  were  awake  and  shuffling  about  the  house,  she  could  easily recognize  cordelia’s  footsteps. ‘  good  morning, ’  the  groundskeeper  greets  the  blonde, a  slight  smile  tinging  her  expression.  ‘  look  at  this,  ’  she  says,  voice  light  with  almost-laughter,  ‘  i  just  mowed  yesterday  afternoon  and  the  grass  is  already  almost  ready  to  be  cut. ’  head  shakes slightly  and  the  brunette  raises her  mug  of  tea  to  her  lips.  ‘ sometimes  i  swear  it’s  enchanted  or  something, ’  she  tacks  on,  before taking  a  sip.

[deadlesbianfight]

Dead Lesbian Fight Round 1A

Poussey Washington (Orange is the New Black) vs Wendy Peyser (American Horror Story: Asylum)

[mbtillusion]

MBTI as AHS Asylum Characters

INTJ: Dr Oliver Thredson

INTP: Chachath

ENTJ: Sister Jude Martin

ENTP: Dr. Arthur Arden

INFJ: Monsignor Timothy Howard

INFP: Sister Mary Eunice McKee

ENFJ: Mother Superior Claudia

ENFP: Lana Winters

ISTJ: Wendy Peyser

ISFJ: Kit Walker

ESTJ: Frank McCann

ESFJ: Johnny Morgan

ISTP: Grace Bertrand

ISFP: Alma Walker

ESTP: Teresa Morrison

ESFP: Shelley

[formercancer]

The Signs as AHS Asylum Characters

Aries: Dr. Arthur Arden

Taurus: Sister Jude Martin

Gemini: Dr. Oliver Thredson

Cancer: Monsignor Timothy Howard

Leo: Shelley

Virgo: Sister Mary Eunice McKee

Libra: Kit Walker

Scorpio: Lana Winters

Sagittarius: Wendy Peyser

Capricorn: Alma Walker

Aquarius: Pepper

Pisces: Grace Bertrand

[iris-ymir]

wendy peyser — would you turn on someone you love to save yourself?

“W.. Why would I do such a thing? Thats.. Thats just awful thing to do..! No.. Never.. H..How could I live with miself after such a thing..?No... But then again... I.. I dont know! Why ya askin’ mi such? Have.. I done something? No..”, viera look turns glassy, as she shakes her head.“... That depends of a person, I guess. If it was a life and death situation.. I guess I could turn someone in, to save mi own arse.But then again. That would be rather shitty thing to do for someone you love...... Well, its easy to be hypocrite now.. I guess getting into the actual situation would tell, but... Most likely not. Someone I care about? Absolutely... But love..? Naawh.”

[deadscottblog]

wendy peyser

— would you turn on someone you love to save yourself?

NEVER! 

“My loved ones are very important to me  I can  not deal with losing someone I love   again. .. I will  die first before I a lose them. “ He hissed  wiping at his eyes fists trembling, “ and  I don’t care    if that makes me selfish since they’ll get hurt if I die but that’s the way it has to be no exceptions .. “He took a breath, keeping the tears in wiping at his eyes, “ . .  .. the.. thought of losing.. my dad.. again.. my friends. . my son.   fuck . . I got to close to people.   “