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Susan did not see Peter in battle for years—arriving to his stand against Jadis almost too late, catching up while he picked himself up from the torn earth, on the other side of the conflict when the remnants of Jadis’ army tried their luck at the Cair. Sure, she knew he fought and killed, just as she did, just as Edmund and Lucy did—and oh, how Susan loathes that last part, but Lucy had been the one to find the first assassin in their halls and there was nothing to be done about it now. There was entirely too much death in their first year, Susan thinks, the fairytale shine of Narnia soon breaking apart and leaving a country and people in desperate need of rest and time behind. It took her days to get the blood out underneath her and Lucy’s fingernails, and she knew Peter had just as bad a time with Edmund next door. With a lump in her throat, Susan wondered often if this was to be the rest of their lives: washing themselves clean of battles that were forced upon them by a world far too big for their hands to hold. But even then, with the bloodied waters between them all, she never truly saw Peter in battle. A slain Maugrim who had about as much a part in his own death as Peter’s shaking sword did, a witch that Susan never saw die, assassins that ended up on the moth-eaten carpets she had found in old storage rooms; things that should give her pause but she simply couldn’t consider for long with all there was to do. They had killed to end up where they were, and Susan knew deep down that they would have to kill to stay, too. Now, standing with her bow held tight and a quiver empty of arrows, a sword at her side she has yet to finish learning how to swing, Susan finds herself in a pocket of tar-slow time. Here, she stands with a muddied hemline and their castle once more under siege—unknown foes, but foes all the same—and there, across the way, with his hair longer than Susan has ever known him to have, Peter lets out a roaring laugh. Rhindon is far out of sight, a glaive taking its place in Peter’s steady hands. Even from afar, Susan feels it in her bones when Peter’s swing launches an enemy’s torn body across the field. There are bodies, horror-frozen faces, the stench of blood and bile. The steps to the Cair will perhaps forever bear the stain of this assault. They have lost people they held dear. Susan has wept enough to fill an ocean. And Peter laughs. With storm-eyes, bloodied tongue, and bared teeth, her older brother wages joyous war.
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A man whose destiny is written in the stars . He is expected to achieve great things , to reach the pinnacle of his own art. He is born with a heart of gold , but as he rises through the ranks , the envy of his enemies, as well as his companions paints it with layers and layers of colour until he is unrecognizable.
And then , there is his beloved. He too has mastered his art . He has seen sorrow in his life , yet he remains shining. He is much loved by his companions but they do not see his skill , only his smile .
Achilles and patroclus as parallels to Max and Charles.
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regulus: can you stop talking abt me, reggie this reggie that. In ten years you won’t remember my last name
james: that’s cause in 10 years you’ll have my last name
sirius:
remus:
barty: I call dibs on being the flower girl
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be proud of who you are! 🩷🏳️‍🌈
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I just think that it'd be funny if, after all this speculation about how horrible Crowley's Fall was and his drunken rambling of "a million-light-year freestyle dive into a pool of boiling sulfur", it turned out he just had the longest most boring elevator ride ever down to basement Hell and then stepped in a very small puddle of warm sludge of questionable origin when the doors opened.
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Good omens is Blasphemy
Well, when we're doing it right, anyway.
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edmund: love at first sight? boring, overused
edmund: execution at first sight? new, thrilling, enchanting
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lucy: it doesn't have a tail so i'm pretty sure it's a hamster
tech support: okay fine, right-click the hamster
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Dear Neil, Are you human?
And also, in my book report (that's gonna be on Good Omens), may i call you by your private name? My teacher peobably won't approve because that would be implying we're friends, but if you say we're friends she'll have to accept it.
Sincerely, another person who's life you've changed
I'm honestly good with anyone out there with who is writing a book report calling me Neil. Because if you're reading my Tumblr, I'm sure we're friends. Unless you're hate-reading it, in which case I'm sure we shall be friends one day.
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Cannot Stress Enough how important it is to read Howl’s Moving Castle written by Diana Wynn Jones immediately after watching Howl’s Moving Castle directed by Hayao Miyazaki. When he made the movie he was of course upset with war and thus included it in the film, but you gotta understand. You really Gotta Understand. Every time in the movie where Howl turns the door dial black to travel to an absolutely hellish warscape? You know where that same dial takes him in the book? The Real World Country Of Wales
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edmund: permission to give a fuck?
susan: permission denied
edmund: thank god
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i love the headcanon that remus is super weird and ugly looking. it makes wolfstar that much more romantic. everyone wants a piece of sirius cause he’s unbelievably hot, but who does he date? that ugly weirdo that he shares a dorm with
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Sirius: I accidentally poisoned one of these cups and I don't remember which one.
Remus: How the fuck do you forget something like that.
James: ACCIDENTALLY???
Regulus: With the way this dinner is going, I hope it's mine.
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Remus: Right hand blue
James: This Twister game is so fun!
Regulus: Not that fun. Are you sure this is right, Remus? Potter is practically on top of me
Remus: Of course it is!
Sirius, whispers: Is it?
Remus: I haven’t used the spinner in half an hour
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(at the end of sc)
caspian: who traumatized you?
jill: do you want a list?
caspian:
caspian, unsheathing his sword: yeah actually
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honestly, am I that fucking stupid?
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I'm so damn angry. we're not even dating anymore. and yeah, alright, I get it. you have fucking asthma. but it's my fucking thing if I want to smoke or not. it's not like I ever smoked when I was anywhere near you and it's not like I'm gonna go and start doing that now. but we're not fucking dating anymore you don't get to tell me shit about smoking being bad for me. ✨️oh no, don't smoke🥺... for me...🥺✨️ fucking hate that shit. honestly, after all the shit we went through and now you give me this shit? what the fuck is wrong with you girl. I'm sick of this shit. alright, smoking is not fucking healthy. I don't give a shit. nothing in this hell hole called earth is healthy, what are you gonna do about it. but smoking is my fucking choice and I'm gonna fucking do it if I as much as fucking please. this was my fucking first cigarette this year and the first thing you do is ✨️don't do this for me✨️
girl I never ever smoked in your fucking presence, ever. stop giving me this shit. get the fuck out. honestly
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