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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

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The Queen of Underland: Izzy

CW: Panic attack, child of recovering adult whumpee, anger as trauma response, referenced noncon kissing and touching (nonsexual), childhood bullying, referenced past domestic and child abuse, some gendered and ableist insults (kid to kid and nothing too intense - just fair warning)

Izzy, at nine years old, has been free with her family for almost five years now, and her mother has been in prison on a life sentence for two. With attention, affection, and therapy, she has blossomed into a quiet kid who nearly always has her nose in a book.

When two classmates try to put her in the center of a storm, Izzy finds something inside herself that she has pushed down for so long she had nearly forgotten she ever had it.

Izzy finds her father’s anger.

Jax Gallagher belongs to @comfy-whumpee and is used with permission.

---

Izzy sits at her desk, perfectly still, reading a book while the teacher’s out of the room speaking with another teacher in low voices, just in the hallway. The sun shines in the windows that line the wall, lighting the pages of her book, and one of Izzy’s hands rubs repeatedly over the seam down the side of her uniform skirt, the only movement she makes beyond her eyes.

Around her, the others are whispering, passing notes and giggling (except for Noah, who has his own book open, and Jack, who is drawing his story about giant killer robots in a notebook, and Sarah, Jack’s twin sister who is trying to build a tower of pencils and paper), but Izzy barely notices them.

When the teacher comes back in, Izzy will not be whispering, or giggling, or doing anything that might bother her. When the teacher comes back, Izzy will be quiet, and good, and put her book back into her desk and look up with her hands in her lap. She’s the quietest kid in class, she heard the teacher say so.

At home, she’s not always quiet anymore, but at school she still holds a balance, protecting herself and keeping herself safe in the best and truest way she knows - by simply being exactly what the adults need her to be, and keeping all her real feelings and thoughts inside her head.

Still, while the teacher’s out of the room, she takes a few minutes to read while she has the chance. Her heart beats cold and heavy in her chest as she scans over the words on the page, biting down on her lower lip, worrying at a bit of chapped skin. Her left hand settles over the soft texture of pages nearly yellowed with time spent in the school library being held by hundreds of small hands. The fingers on her right hand feel over the seam of her skirt, right along the outside of her leg, again and again.

Fierce anxiety, and a little fear, swirl inside her for the characters that exist only in ink and her imagination.

Two Earthmen entered, but instead of advancing into the room, they placed themselves one on each side of the door, and bowed deeply. They were followed immediately by the last person whom anyone had expected or wished to see: the Lady of the Green Kirtle, the Queen of Underland. She stood dead still in the doorway, and they could see her eyes moving as she took in the whole situation—the three strangers, the silver chair destroyed, and the Prince free, with his sword in his hand.

“I think I like Karissa,” Henry Fitzgerald, who sits at her left, says to his best friend Kevin Magden - not to be confused with Kevin Michaelson, and didn’t the teacher sigh over that sometimes. He has to speak over and around Izzy’s head.

“Like, like like her?” Kevin Magden asks, sounding half-horrified, half-fascinated. Izzy fights not to roll her eyes, and tries to focus back on her book, on the entrance of the Queen, on the Prince freed but faced with great danger.

The Queen of the Underland, the lady who held the Prince in the dark for ten whole years, that’s older than Izzy even is. Coming into the room to find the children and the Prince, and her having no control any longer.

She turned very white; but Jill thought it was the sort of whiteness that comes over some people's faces not when they are frightened but when they are angry. For a moment the Witch fixed her eyes on the Prince, and there was murder in them. Then she seemed to change her mind.

“Run,” Izzy whispers, to the children, to Puddleglum the strange marsh creature, to the freed Prince. “Don’t talk to her, just run. Don’t listen to whatever she says, don’t.”

“What are you even saying, Izzy?” Kevin Magden says.

“She’s all in her book like always,” Henry Fitzgerald says, shrugging. He makes some sort of gesture - Izzy doesn’t look up to see it - and the two of them laugh. She doesn’t care about that. The story is far, far more important than they are anyway. “Anyway, Kev, I like-... yeah, I think I like like her. I’m gonna tell her at break.”

“Gross,” Kevin says, but he sounds fascinated. “What if she says she doesn’t like-like you back?”

Henry shrugs again - Izzy can see the movement from the corner of her eye. “Dunno. Maybe kiss her.”

“Gross,” Kevin repeats, much more emphatically.

Izzy tries to keep her mind on the page, but shifts uncomfortably in her chair. She closes her eyes briefly, thinking of the Queen of the Underland, standing in the doorway. She imagines her with very white skin and dark, long fingernails, wearing a long dress that brushes the earthen floor, making a soft swish-swish sound as she walks. In her mind, the Queen of the Underland has very bright blue eyes and lots of curly, dark brown hair that is threaded with silver down her back, wild and uncontrolled, like it can reach out and grab you and drag you into the dark with her.

She feels like the Queen is not a stranger to her, and not hard to picture at all. Try as she might, she can’t make the Queen in her imagination look like the description of the Queen in the book. She only ever looks one way - beautiful and wicked, deceptively soft, eyes brilliant and shining too bright when the Prince is in pain.

Will she hurt him, while the children have to stand and watch and can’t save him at all?

"Leave us," she said to the two Earthmen. "And let none disturb us till I call, on pain of death." The gnomes padded away obediently, and the Witch-queen shut and locked the door.

"How now, my lord Prince," she said. "Has your nightly fit not yet come upon you, or is it over so soon? Why stand you here unbound? Who are these aliens? And is it they who have destroyed the chair which was your only safety?"

Izzy can hear the Queen’s voice, musical lilt, simpering sweet and dangerous. Why are you leaving me? How dare you. Come back here, Jax, you can’t leave, you’re mine.

Kevin and Henry are still talking, but Izzy doesn’t hear them any longer. She’s lost in the panic rising inside of her. Run, she thinks, in a scream, a shout in her mind. It isn’t that she doesn’t understand it’s just a book, but that she is still scared, frightened for the prince whose father had grown older while he was gone, whose family must have missed him so much. She is frightened for the children who do not understand the witch or how to fight her. She’s frightened even for Puddleglum, who only wants to help, to do the right thing. Don’t talk to her, don’t give her the chance, just run. She’ll make you hers again. She swallows - it feels like her heart beats itself right up into her throat, like she is swallowing around it - and keeps reading.

Prince Rilian shivered as she spoke to him. And no wonder: it is not easy to throw off in half an hour an enchantment which has made one a slave for ten years. Then, speaking with a great effort, he said:

“I’ll kiss her even if she doesn’t like me back, anyway.”

Izzy’s breath catches, and she blinks, feeling like she has been pulled out of a spell herself. She looks up, glancing sidelong at Henry, who isn’t looking at her at all, just talking to Kevin. “Hen-... Henry-... what did you say?”

“None of your business,” Henry replies, voice harsh and loud enough to get some of the others to look over at them, and Izzy’s shoulders creep up towards her chin, face burning red. She hates when everyone looks at her, hates it more than anything. Henry looks back at Kevin. “At break, I will. I’ll tell her, and I’ll kiss her, whether she wants to or not.”

Izzy looks back down, but the words on the page run together, she can’t see them any longer, they’re just squiggles, meaningless little lines. What I want just matters more, whispers a nightmare she can never quite feel woken up from. She tries, she really does, to focus again on the book but she sees secondly, she took out a musical instrument-

Izzy slams the little paperback shut, sticks it back in her desk, and says in a thin voice, “You can’t do that if someone doesn��t want you to, it’s wrong.”

“It’s not a big deal, Izzy, geez.” Kevin on her other side speaks up now, and between them she feels like she’s being battered, tossed on a sea, shoved down, locked in the dark. Izzy stares down at her desk, then, letting her eyes lose focus on the wavy colors in the polished wood. Light brown, almost auburn, and darker brown, almost a chocolate color, very like the hair on Izzy’s own head, clipped short and spiky.

Very very like the wavy, thick curls that ran down her mother’s back, that smothered Izzy in the smell of her shampoo and perfume.

“It is a big deal,” Izzy whispers. “It’s wrong, to make someone kiss you. It’s wrong. It-... it hurts them. It matters what they want, too.”

“Ugh. It's just a kiss. You’re bonkers, you know that?" Henry leans over, almost in her space, and Izzy sits back as far as she can until she presses her back hard into her chair, enough to hurt. “Absolutely mad.”

“No, I’m not,” Izzy mumbles, but panic twists even worse inside her. Is she? Her mom is. Isn’t she? Don’t you have to be, to be evil? Dr. Marty says no, that those two things are totally separate and people are just bad at understanding that people can be really, really, really bad and still be sane - that bad people almost always are - and Dr. Marty knows everything about crazy and not-crazy, that’s his whole job, and she’s not like her mother anyway, she’s not.

“Are so,” Henry taunts, falling easily into the familiar cadence of mockery, and Izzy’s face burns brighter and hotter as the room begins to fall quiet, other conversations falling away as the others realize there might be some entertainment now. Her breath comes faster, and she closes her hands into fists at her side, fighting to control the way the fear and a new rise of anger start to twist around inside her stomach, making it flip, making her feel sick. “You’re bonkers for sure, Izzy Gallagher.”

“I-I’m not. I’m not, I’m not, I’m not! It’s not right to kiss people who you don’t know if they want to or not! It’s not!”

The room feels suddenly too small, and too big - she can’t escape Henry’s bean-breath and she can’t run far enough to get to the door, she can’t run at all. Some small voice inside her demands she stay still, shut her mouth, never talk again. She should have just finished her book, seen how the Prince would escape the Queen of the Underland, seen if the children help him or just weigh him down, one more bit of stone tying him to Underland and maybe he wishes he could just leave them behind, if they bother him, if they’re no good-

“Ewwwww, who would want to kiss Izzy?” A girl near her wrinkles her nose - Lindsey Smith, Izzy’s brain supplies, in an airless dizzy spin of details that aren’t important but she can’t stop circling around. “She looks like a boy.”

“Hey, back off.” Izzy, surprised, glances over her shoulder to find Noah Hawkins looking up from his own book, eyes narrowed. “Izzy’s hair is cool, and it’s cooler than yours anyway, Lindsey-kins. You just wish you looked as good as she does.”

“Shut up! You just say that because you’re a boy, of course you think boy hair looks cool.” Lindsey sticks her tongue out, crossing her arms in front of herself. She has big poofy hair like Izzy’s would be if she didn’t have her dad cut it so short, held back with a clip. Hers is red, though.

“There’s no such thing,” Sarah says from over by the window. “As boy or girl hair, I mean. There’s no such thing. It’s all just hair. Izzy’s hair does look cool. You all should leave it alone, Mrs. Brent is going to be back inside any second and we’ll all get in trouble if there’s fighting.”

“Yeah, Izzy,” Henry hisses at her, leaning in close. Too close. She forgets how to breathe. “Stop causing trouble, Izzy.”

“I’m not,” Izzy whispers. Her face feels like it might light on fire. Her fingernails dig into her palms, until she feels flashes of pain, creating crescents that could take hours to fully fade if she did it hard enough. “I was-... I was just-”

“Just butting in where you don’t belong,” Henry finishes for her. “It’s not your business.”

“It’s-... but, but I just-” Her voice is fading fast, airy and breathless, barely a whisper. Quiet little Izzy Gallagher, who never stands up for herself, who lets everyone talk to her like this, who never says a word she isn’t asked to say. Her fear batters her with wings inside her chest, but beneath it is something else entirely, trying to rise up and take over her mind and mouth. Anger. She and Dr. Marty had talked about it, about how it was a normal feeling to feel, but every swell of it within her was met by the rising tide of fear in response.

She never lets herself be angry. That would make her like her mother, who was angry so much, and she’s not like that, she’s not.

She doesn’t think, in the moment, that her mother isn’t the only parent who knows how to be angry.

The thoughts are not conscious. They aren’t driven by any kind of logic, they loop and swirl around each other. They flash bright like light in the back of her mind. She thinks about the story, the book inside her desk, the way the Prince fell upon the silver chair, how he swung his sword in dim light.

She thinks about the prince walking out the hotel doors with a baby in one arm and a little girl on his hip, a backpack heavy against his back, into the sunlight outside. She can remember the way he breathed quick and shallow against her hair, the racing of his heart as he asked her to be very quiet, and very brave. She didn’t know he was scared, he didn’t say it, he was just the Prince, shining in the sunlight, asking for directions to the train station and going in a suit to court later and the silver gave way before the sword’s edge like string, and in a moment a few twisted fragments, shining on the floor, were all that was left of the chair.

“But-but-but-but, I just-” Henry is still going, and Izzy’s eyes burn as hot as her face, lips pulling back from her teeth in a grimace like a snarl. “Just shut up, Izzy Gallagher, nobody cares what you think.”

“Don’t be a dick, I care,” Noah says, from the back of the room, his voice getting louder, now. Other students whoop and go ooooh, Noah likes Izzy, but Noah ignores them, and he doesn’t turn even a little bit red. “Izzy hasn’t done anything wrong to you.” She barely knows Noah, he’s in her class but they don’t talk or anything. This is the first time he’s done more than help her with a math problem, this is the first time she’s heard him even talk in class without the teacher calling on him.

But it feels good to have somebody else stand up for her.

“She’s butting in!” Henry protests, hands up like he’s the innocent one. “Kevin and I were just talking-”

“About kissing Karissa Bellweather!” Izzy half-shouts. “From the other class! You were talking about kissing someone even if she doesn’t want to! You said you would even if she said no! That’s not right!”

“Ew,” Someone says, Izzy doesn’t know who. Her blood is rushing in her ears almost too loud to hear. “Do you like-like Karissa Bellweather, Henry?”

“No! I don’t!” Henry looks stricken. He hadn’t expected her to just say it out loud like that to everybody. “Gallagher’s lying! She’s a liar!”

“I’m not! I’m not a fucking liar!” Her voice is too loud and she claps her hands over her mouth. Don’t cry, she thinks to herself, and her own thought-voice twists into her mother’s sharper edges. Her palms ache and she wonders if her nails have broken skin, but the wonder is faint, and faded. She feels a hand pressed against the back of her neck, the Queen of the Underland’s voice beside her ear. Don’t cry, Bella. You’re so ugly when you cry. Jax, get her out of my sight.

“Fuck off,” Izzy says, voice trembling. She isn’t really talking to Henry, not anymore. “Leave-... leave me alone.”

“Oooh, what’re you gonna do, huh? Gonna throw some punches?” Kevin is too close on the other side, now. They’re both too close. Izzy’s heart beats all out of time, and when she goes to breathe, it… it doesn’t work. Her breath is stuck in her throat, halfway down. The air just… sits there, and she can’t hitch it in or exhale it. It feels like her throat is closing up, she’ll choke on nothing, black out and fall down. “Bonkers Izzy Gallagher, gonna fight us, are you?”

“I-I could-” Her voice is a whimper, and Izzy closes her eyes.

“Could not,” Henry mocks, from his side of her. “You’re weak as a puppy. What are you gonna do?”

“Stop-... stop you from talking anymore,” Izzy says, and pushes her chair back with a loud scrape, getting to her feet. She should tell Dr. Marty about the book, she thinks, about the Queen of the Underland. She should tell her father about the Prince tied to the chair, and how he chopped the chair to bits, and she should tell them all about it, nice and safe and quiet at home, and not do what she’s afraid she’s going to do instead.

“How, gonna use something you learned from your mam in prison?” Henry asks, and Izzy remembers, all at once, how to breathe - but it’s all poison. She gulps in air, fear sparking up, her nerves feel like a hundred thousand tiny lightning strikes. She wants to run but she’s at school and there isn’t anywhere to go.

“Wh-what?”

“My dad says your mam’s famous in the States for being in prison,” Henry says, leaping on this new tactic as the blood drains from Izzy’s face. He’s like animals on the nature shows that James likes to watch at home with their snack, circling a calf all alone. She’s a wounded baby calf, she’s weighing the herd down, she’s not strong or brave enough, she never was. “Did she teach you how to prison-fight? Ooooh, did she show you how to make a-” He jabs at the air, fist closed empty around an imaginary knife. “A prison-blade?”

“Shiv,” Kevin supplies helpfully.

“Right, that. Did your mam show you how to shank someone?”

“I don’t-... I don’t talk to my mom,” Izzy says, half-strangled by her own words. Her head is spinning. Her backpack is so far away. “We don’t-... we don’t have contact-... she doesn’t talk to me, isn’t allowed-”

“Oh, ew.” Henry sits back, and his face lights up with the simple cruelty of wounding someone who looks unable to fight back, of regaining his own stability and distracting everyone from his embarrassment by bringing up Izzy’s shame instead. “Are you so awful even your mam doesn’t want to talk to you?”

No. She doesn’t. Izzy’s lip trembles. She can’t bring herself to try and respond. She doesn’t, she doesn’t want to know anything about me at all. The last thing my mom ever said to me was yelling at me not to look so scared all the time and Dad said she never asked about me when he talked to her during the trial she never asked she never-

“Hey, Henry,” Someone says. “This is super gross stuff to say, isn’t it?” Izzy can’t see anything but Henry’s face, everything else is white noise and his words ringing through her, settling too deeply inside, meeting her own thoughts that match them, sometimes, on hard days. She never asked about me, she doesn’t even care that I hate her. Your mam is supposed to care if you hate her. You’re so awful your mom doesn’t even care about you. Your mam is supposed to-

“Yeah, Henry. That’s too far, that’s really mean.”

“She can’t help who her mam is, Hen.”

“Yeah, it’s not like she went to the mam shop and picked a rubbish one.”

“My dad was away for a while, Iz, I get it. My mam says it doesn’t say anything about us. People make bad choices is all.”

“I haven’t even seen my dad since I was five, Izzy, it’s okay, don’t be sad.”

“Yeah, it’s okay, Izzy, don’t be sad, Henry’s just being awful.”

“Hey, she was awful first!”

“Go run up a pole, Henry. I like you, Izzy,” Sarah says, from the window, and moves in her direction. “Henry’s being a jerk, don’t listen to him. Don’t be sad. It’s okay.”

“I like you, too, you’re fun at break, you always have good ideas for games.” That’s Amira, using that certain kind of tone you use when you are trying to comfort an upset person, and Izzy feels some of the ice closing around her heart starting to warm up, to melt, to crack apart.

Even Lindsey says, almost grudging, “Don’t be sad because of Henry, Izzy. He’s really mean sometimes.”

“I think you’re really cool,” Noah says, in a quieter voice. “Please don’t be sad. Want to play monsters at break?”

They don’t all hate her, they don’t. Someone puts a hand at her back, and she flinches, and they pull the hand away, but they don’t hate her for pulling away, they don’t hate her voice or her hair and they don’t hate her for speaking up, they don’t.

Henry hasn’t given up, not yet. “Your mam’s in prison for being a shit to your dad, isn’t she?”

Izzy doesn’t look at him, leaning down to pull the book out of her desk, trying to think. She can pull her backpack out and go the nurse, say she’s feeling sick, and maybe her dad will come get her and take her home. They can call Dr. Marty and she can tell him what happened and Dr. Marty will know what to tell her and her dad to work on for the next time. She can tell him that there were good things, too, like that Noah said he thinks she’s cool, and Amira likes her game ideas, and not everybody hates her because she has the wrong mom, and it’s going to be okay.

It’s going to be okay.

“Henry, stop it,” She says, in a half-whisper. “Please stop.”

She can go to the nurse. Say she’s sick, it’s not a lie, her stomach is all twisted up in knots. It’ll be true, she’s not going to feel better. She has sweat on her forehead drying cold, making her shiver a little. It’s not a lie, being scared makes her sick, it’s a real sick, it’s not a lie. She gets sick a lot from being scared, Dr. Marty says it’s normal for kids who have anxiety, she has exercises to do, she can picture all her hurting thoughts and move them away, and…

“That’s what my dad said.” Henry’s voice cuts in. “He said your mam’s a piece of fucking work and probably made your dad one, too-”

“Don’t talk about my dad!” She rounds on him, then, book clutched to her chest. “Don’t you dare, you don’t-... you don’t have any right! You don’t know what happened, you don’t know us, you don’t know anything! My dad is better than yours ever could be! And, and stronger, and braver, too!”

Izzy Gallagher, quiet as a mouse, teacher’s pet from sheer terrified inaction, who always sits still and listens carefully and takes direction so well and is just an absolute pleasure to have in class, Mr. Gallagher, an absolute pleasure, is shouting and doesn’t realize it until the words have left her mouth.

She should stop, some part of her brain begs her to stop, but the anger is suddenly larger than the fear and she is a little girl with a sword. Where they came from, and what she and her father and her little brother have survived, is a silver chair she will hack to bits until all that’s left shines like jewelry when held up to the light.

Henry’s eyes widen, they are big saucers, and they are very bright and very blue.

“My dad is amazing.” She can’t stop shouting. She’s not even trying to stop any longer. “He lived through really bad stuff and he still got us away from it! Even though it would have been easier to go by himself and leave us, he didn’t, and my mom is evil, and I’m not, because you don’t have to be what your mom is and I’m not ever going to be like that, but you are evil, Henry Fitzgerald, and you don’t even have an excuse! You’re-... you’re mean for no reason, and I hope Karissa spits in your face and kicks you between your legs as hard as she fucking can! You are an asshole, Henry Fitzgerald, and you can go fuck yourself all the way home!”

“Isabella Gallagher!” Mrs. Brent’s voice is shocked, and the words die in Izzy’s throat, as she slowly turns to see the teacher standing in the doorway, staring at her like she’d grown three heads and all of them have fangs.

Izzy feels like she has fangs, too. And claws, like she is a monster herself. She should be scared, or sad, or ashamed of herself, but all she feels is anger burning bright and hot and good in her veins, louder than fear. Angry feels safer than scared. She feels proud of herself, a feeling so unfamiliar it seems like it must be someone else’s. Sarah, close to her now, whispers, go Izzy, in a soft impressed voice, and Izzy feels her eyes burn again, more than before, but for a different reason.

They don’t hate her, and Henry isn’t saying bad things about her dad any longer, because of her. They don’t hate her.

“You might be even cooler now,” Amira says, and the teacher shushes all of them and points Izzy out, telling her to go see the Head Teacher. Any other Izzy would slink out with her shoulders hunched, full of fear, but this Izzy feels the buzz of standing up for herself running through her and warming all the cold, chasing the heavy hand on her neck away. This Izzy walks with her chin up and her shoulders back.

Some of the warm feeling goes away when the Head Teacher calls her dad to come get her, and says in her stern hard voice that Izzy was yelling and cursing at another student. The Head Teacher doesn’t say that she had a reason, and makes it sound like Izzy just stood up and started cursing for no reason at all. That’s… that’s not fair. Grown-ups always do that, make it seem like kids just go off for no reason, and Izzy can’t hear what her dad says back to the Head Teacher, but a lot of the warm feeling goes away, then. Her heart feels cold and scared again.

What if he’s mad at her?

What if she can’t be sorry enough to fix it?

Izzy sits in a hard wooden chair that is shaped all wrong for kids and makes her legs hurt after a while, waiting for him to come get her with a racing heart, her book open in her lap.

There’s some brown-y red smeared on the cover, drying. She made her palms bleed when she was scared and didn’t even notice. She’ll ask her dad to buy the school library a new one. She wants to keep this one for herself.

"I have come," said a deep voice behind them. They turned and saw the Lion himself, so bright and real and strong that everything else began at once to look pale and shadowy compared with him. And in less time than it takes to breathe Jill forgot about the dead King of Narnia and remembered only how she had made Eustace fall over the cliff, and how she had helped to muff nearly all the signs, and about all the snappings and quarrellings. And she wanted to say "I'm sorry" but she could not speak. Then the Lion drew them towards him with his eyes, and bent down and touched their pale faces with his tongue, and said:

"Think of that no more. I will not always be scolding. You have done the work for which I sent you into Narnia."

"Please, Aslan," said Jill, "may we go home now?"

"Yes. I have come to bring you Home," said Aslan.

A flash of gray, worn jeans in her vision brings her slowly into awareness of the world around her, but it’s the voice that breaks her completely from the story’s spell.

“Talk to me, kiddo.”

Izzy looks up to meet her father’s eyes, surprised - she hadn’t even heard him come up. But they’re quiet movers, the Gallaghers - except for Jamie, who never had to learn to move so quiet she couldn’t hear him, who never had to push down all his sounds so deep inside himself he could go whole days without making any at all.

Her dad drops into a crouch in front of her, and his knees crack a little, but if it bothers him he doesn’t show it. He looks up at her, from this angle, and he doesn’t look mad.

He almost never looks mad at her.

“I got a call that you were fighting in class.” He looks like he’s trying not to twitch a smile at the corner of his mouth. “And using some pretty creative language.”

“Can’t imagine where I learned to curse,” Izzy says gravely, and there - that was definitely a smile on his face that he has to hide as fast as it shows. She lives for her father’s smile. Still, she closes her book, and folds her hands on top of the stain on the cover so he won’t see it. “I only yelled a little. Henry Fitzgerald was mean to me, and he was going to-... he was going to kiss a girl who didn’t want him to kiss her, even if she didn’t want him to. He said it didn’t matter if she wanted to or not.”

“Ah.” It’s all he says, at first. His face doesn’t show much, now. Her nervous heart starts to beat fast again.

“It’s, that was, um, that was before he got mean. He got mean when I told him that it’s wrong to do that and… I kind of… told everybody in class he was going to.”

Her father’s eyebrows raise, a little. “You did, did you?”

“Yes. Then he said his dad told him my mom’s in prison and that-” She stops herself, closing her hands tightly over the book, before her voice can start to shake again. She takes deep breaths, strong ones, fills her whole lungs up. Her dad waits for her, he always waits for Izzy when she needs him to. “He said, it was just, it was a stupid thing, but it made me really angry.”

Her dad’s face hasn’t changed, but Izzy knows when emotions change in a room, even without anyone’s face moving at all. She can feel that something has shifted inside him, something he’s not showing her. “What did he say?”

“That I must be awful if my mom doesn’t even want to talk to me.” She says it flat, like it doesn’t bother her at all to hear it. No big deal, it’s normal to have a mother who hates you for stealing your father even though it didn’t happen that way. “Then he said mean stuff about you, and… I was already upset, so… I kind of went off on him. I’m sorry you got called and had to come get me.”

“But you’re not sorry you did it,” He says, and it’s not a question.

She presses her lips tightly together, and shakes her head. “I’m… I’m not. He needed to be yelled at. I’m not sorry, Dad. I mean, I am sorry that you have to do anything, but, I’m not-... sorry for calling him all those names and I will put my money from my birthday in the swear jar if you want, I’ll skip tea for a week and put all my chocolates in there, but I still won’t be sorry for yelling when he was mean about you.”

He huffs a sound like quiet laughter and offers her his hands. “Izzy… I don’t care what a year three kid - or his dad - says about me. But clearly it was important to you. Let me go in there and talk to the Head Teacher about it, and we’ll talk out what happens next on our way home. Okay?”

No anger, or threatening punishments, no mention of discipline ever leaves his slightly smiling lips. Izzy is never taught through making her afraid, not anymore. But he waits, seriously, for her to acknowledge what he’s said.

“Okay, Dad. We’ll talk about what I need to do. And-... can we call Dr. Marty when we get home? I-... want to talk to Dr. Marty about what happened.”

He looks surprised, but not unhappy about it, and nods. “Yeah, kiddo. Good plan. I’ll be back out in just a bit.” When he turns to walk into the Head Teacher’s office, she thinks that even with everything, he looks very like a grown-up prince, and the rings in his ears look like shredded silver.

She lifts a hand to touch the shell of her own ear, on her left side.

Izzy opens her book, to the murmur of their voices as they talk about her. She decides to finish it later, and instead she flips back to read again the bit where the prince takes his sword to the chair that kept him under the spell and tells the evil Queen of Underland that he isn’t hers any longer.

He will go home, to his family, to be freed of her entirely, even if she still shows up in bad dreams… bad dreams are the only place she can come to, now. He’ll wake up and someone will tell him that she’s gone and she can’t come back, and it will be true. They’ll tell him, again and again, until he believes it.

Izzy will tell her dad, until he believes it.

Jax will tell her, until she believes it, too.

But first…

"Madam, there will be no more need of that chair. And you, who have told me a hundred times how deeply you pitied me for the sorceries by which I was bound, will doubtless hear with joy that they are now ended for ever. There was, it seems, some small error in your Ladyship's way of treating them. These, my true friends, have delivered me. I am now in my right mind, and there are two things I will say to you…”

“Go fuck yourself,” Izzy whispers with a smile on her face and the thrill of forbidden words up her spine. She isn’t talking to Henry Fitzgerald this time, either. She never really was. “And I’m not sorry you’re not Queen anymore at all.”

---

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @wildfaewhump @whump-tr0pes @moose-teeth @orchidscript @sableflynn @pretty-face-breaker @raigash @vickytokio @eatyourdamnpears

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whump-tr0pes · 3 years

Note

What happened again in the silver chair and enders game? 👀

I mean, Ender’s Game is pretty much just whump from start to finish. But what happened in The Silver Chair? (by C.S. Lewis) Oh... only this scene...

"Come in, friends," he said, glancing quickly up. "The fit is not yet upon me. Make no noise, for I told that prying chamberlain that you were in bed. Now... I can feel it coming. Quick! Listen while I am master of myself. When the fit is upon me, it well may be that I shall beg and implore you, with entreaties and threatenings, to loosen my bonds. They say I do. I shall call upon you by all that is most dear and most dreadful. But do not listen to me. Harden your hearts and stop your ears. For while I am bound you are safe. But if once I were up and out of this chair, then first would come my fury, and after that" — he shuddered — "the change into a loathsome serpent."

"There's no fear of our loosing you," said Puddleglum. "We've no wish to meet wild men; or serpents either."

"I should think not," said Scrubb and Jill together.

"All the same," added Puddleglum in a whisper. "Don't let's be too sure. Let's be on our guard. We've muffed everything else, you know. He'll be cunning, I shouldn't wonder, once he gets started. Can we trust one another? Do we all promise that whatever he says we don't touch those cords? Whatever he says, mind you?"

...

The Knight was moaning. His face was as pale as putty, and he writhed in his bonds. And whether because she was sorry for him, or for some other reason, Jill thought that he looked a nicer sort of man than he had looked before.

"Ah," he groaned. "Enchantments, enchantments... the heavy, tangled, cold, clammy web of evil magic. Buried alive. Dragged down under the earth, down into the sooty blackness... how many years is it?... Have I lived ten years, or a thousand years, in the pit? Maggotmen all around me. Oh, have mercy. Let me out, let me go back. Let me feel the wind and see the sky... There used to be a little pool. When you looked down into it you could see all the trees growing upside-down in the water, all green, and below them, deep, very deep, the blue sky."

He had been speaking in a low voice; now he looked up, fixed his eyes upon them, and said loud and clear: "Quick! I am sane now. Every night I am sane. If only I could get out of this enchanted chair, it would last. I should be a man again. But every night they bind me, and so every night my chance is gone. But you are not enemies. I am not your prisoner. Quick! Cut these cords."

"Stand fast! Steady," said Puddleglum to the two children.

"I beseech you to hear me," said the Knight, forcing himself to speak calmly. "Have they told you that if I am released from this chair I shall kill you and become a serpent? I see by your faces that they have. It is a lie. It is at this hour that I am in my right mind: it is all the rest of the day that I am enchanted. You are not Earthmen nor witches. Why should you be on their side? Of your courtesy, cut my bonds."

"Steady! Steady! Steady!" said the three travellers to one another.

"Oh, you have hearts of stone," said the Knight. "Believe me, you look upon a wretch who has suffered almost more than any mortal heart can bear. What wrong have I ever done you, that you should side with my enemies to keep me in such miseries? And the minutes are slipping past. Now you can save me; when this hour has passed, I shall be witless again — the toy and lap-dog, nay, more likely the pawn and tool, of the most devilish sorceress that ever planned the woe of men. And this night, of all nights, when she is away! You take from me a chance that may never come again."

"This is dreadful. I do wish we'd stayed away till it was over," said Jill.

"Steady!" said Puddleglum.

The prisoner's voice was now rising into a shriek. "Let me go, I say. Give me my sword. My sword! Once I am free I shall take such revenge on Earthmen that Underland will talk of it for a thousand years!"

"Now the frenzy is beginning," said Scrubb. "I hope those knots are all right."

"Yes," said Puddleglum. "He'd have twice his natural strength if he got free now. And I'm not clever with my sword. He'd get us both, I shouldn't wonder; and then Pole on her own would be left to tackle the snake."

The prisoner was now so straining at his bonds that they cut into his wrists and ankles. "Beware," he said. "Beware. One night I did break them. But the witch was there that time. You will not have her to help you to-night. Free me now, and I am your friend. I'm your mortal enemy else."

"Cunning, isn't he?" said Puddleglum.

"Once and for all," said the prisoner, "I adjure you to set me free. By all fears and all loves, by the bright skies of Overland, by the great Lion, by Aslan himself, I charge you — "

"Oh!" cried the three travellers as though they had been hurt. "It's the Sign," said Puddleglum. "It was the words of the sign," said Scrubb more cautiously. "Oh, what are we to do?" said Jill.

...

The Knight was screaming by now; there was foam on his cheeks.

"Come on, Scrubb," said Puddleglum. He and Scrubb drew their swords and went over to the captive.

"In the name of Aslan," they said and began methodically cutting the cords. The instant the prisoner was free, he crossed the room in a single bound, seized his own sword (which had been taken from him and laid on the table), and drew it.

"You first!" he cried and fell upon the silver chair. That must have been a good sword. The silver gave way before its edge like string, and in a moment a few twisted fragments, shining on the floor, were all that was left. But as the chair broke, there came from it a bright flash, a sound like small thunder, and (for one moment) a loathsome smell.

"Lie there, vile engine of sorcery," he said, "lest your mistress should ever use you for another victim." Then he turned and surveyed his rescuers; and the something wrong, whatever it was, had vanished from his face.

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taleweaver-ramblings · 3 years

Text

Get-to-Know-You Tag!

@accidental-spice tagged me with the Get-to-Know-You/About Me Tag! Since the last chain was getting really long, I'm starting with a fresh post.

Name: Many were my names in the online realms I once roamed, but here, I am the Taleweaver.

Nickname: Late to Dinner, but only briefly. (I made the "You can call me what you want as long as you don't call me late to dinner" joke a few too many times.)

Zodiac: Haven't the foggiest.

Height: Five . . . seven-ish?

Languages: English is the only one in which I'm fluent. I know enough German that I could carry on a very basic conversation, though. (Or, at the very least, can say the important things if I ever manage to get out there.)

Favorite season: Autumn! Summer used to be my favorite, but then my allergies got steadily worse and worse.

Favorite color: Blue (as would be very clear if you could look in my closet).

Favorite fictional character: Oh storms, so many. I'll hit the highlights: Eanrin and Starflower (Tales of Goldstone Wood), Adolin and Kaladin (The Stormlight Archive), Eugenides (The Queen's Thief series), Aragorn and Faramir (The Lord of the Rings), Irene (The Invisible Library), Rook (An Enchantment of Ravens), Howl Pendragon (Howl's Moving Castle), and all four Pevensie siblings, plus Reepicheep and Puddleglum (The Chronicles of Narnia).

Tea, coffee, or hot chocolate: Tea, or a nice chai latte.

Average hours of sleep: Seven-ish, probably. Less than I'd like, but enough.

Cat or dog person: I like both, but I probably prefer cats.

Blankets I sleep with: Depends on the season. Currently, just a sheet. Spring/fall, one (either a light quilt or a thin blue ribbed blanket). Winter . . . blue blanket, quilt, blue fuzzy blanket, and maybe the crocheted afghan my grandma made me if it's really cold.

Place of origin: Virginia.

Dream trip: I get three months and sufficient money for a leisurely tour of the British Isles, Germany, Greece, and Italy. Maybe we throw in a side trip to either one of the Scandinavian countries or New Zealand.

Number of followers: 42. (Do you think they all know where their towels are?)

Random facts: Despite the fact that I've made two Hitchhiker's Guide references in as many days, I'm not actually a fan of the book. (I think it's rather depressing; Discworld is much better.) I started doing sourdough the summer before it was cool. I'm currently replaying Portal 2 for the third time (alongside my sister's first time).

I'm not tagging anyone explicitly, but if you want to do this, consider yourself tagged.

#tag #about me #it's me

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narniagiftexchange · 4 years

Text

THE WINTER NARNIAN GIFT EXCHANGE.

for @bexlynne by @luxaofhesperides .

DREAMING OF A GREENER GRASS.

Jill wakes up with an apple in her hand.

This is not the first time this has happened: she’ll dream and in those dreams pick up a variety of objects that somehow end up in her hands when she wakes up. The dreams themselves are vivid and feel real, as though she never fell asleep at all. The strangeness of it all forces her to keep quiet, but whenever her mind isn’t occupied by her studies, she wonders about it.

At least this time it’s something mundane and easily forgotten. Food can easily be eaten or left on a table for someone else. It’s much harder to hide daggers and bear claws and gem-studded cups. She had a hard time hiding those ones, especially when Eustace asked if she had picked up anything recently with a strangely sharp look in his eyes.

Sighing, she forces herself out of bed and sets the apple down on her bedside table. Lately, she’s become the first one to wake up in her dorm room, rather than the last. Sleep evades her the moment the sun rises, and Jill has given up on falling back asleep after the first week when she lay in bed, bored, for two hours.

The new boarding school she goes to has separate buildings for girls and boys, and sticks four students per room. It’s a cramped space, and Jill is beginning to worry about where to hide things; sooner or later she’s going to run out of room under her mattress.

It’s the last day of class, and Jill skips it because she’s not going to be doing anything in a stuffy old classroom, so she might as well do nothing outside. She’s a decent enough student that skipping a few classes means nothing to her, and no one cares enough to hunt her down. And whenever she chooses to spend her day hidden outside, laying on the grass, Eustace always stumbles upon her and keeps her company.

He really has changed, she thinks, but then again, so has she. Narnia leaves quite the mark on people, even if it’s not so visible.

“Fancy seeing you here, Pole,” Eustace says, dropping down into the grass beside her. “Never would have thought I’d see you skipping class.”

“Ugh, spare me,” she groans, swatting his arm, “I’ve heard that joke too often. What’s brought you to my neck of the woods then?”

He shrugs. “Just felt like it.”

Jill hums, and lets the silence settle between them.

“It’s… been quite some time since we came back, hasn’t it?” she muses, thinking out loud. Since the dreams started, her thoughts turn to Narnia more and more, and there’s only one person she knows who would understand what she speaks of.

She expects Eustace to ask her why she’s bringing this up now, or not really answer at all. They haven’t spoken of Narnia since the first week back, when they arrived at this new school after the abrupt closing of Experiment House. He does neither of these things; instead, he says, a little quiet, a little melancholy, “It has been a while. Somehow, leaving a second time is worse.”

Jill turns her head to look at him. He has his head tilted back, looking up at the sky in all it’s bright and blue glory. “In what way?”

“It was much more abrupt this time. And Capsian…” He trails off. “Last time, we stood at the edge of the world, and had a chance to say goodbye. It was hard for my cousins, since it was the last time they’d ever be in Narnia. And they told me about how time flows differently there, how they lost a thousand years. But I guess I never expected to see him die of old age. Never really expected so much time to pass.”

He’s much more open with his emotions now. It’s nice, Jill thinks, remembering back to Experiment House, just a year before, where he sneered at people who cried and vehemently avoided any talk of feelings. She couldn’t stand that Eustace. But this one, the Eustace besides her, is her dearest friend.

She’s lucky to have him with her.

Jill hopes that Tirian has someone like Eustace with him; a friend, someone to rely on. Someone to trust.

“Do you think we’ll ever go back?” Jill asks, reaching out to hold his hand, offer a small comfort.

He’s silent for a while. Just breathing, existing besides her.

“No,” he says, “Not me, at least. Maybe you, but I think that was the last of Narnia I’ll ever see.”

“I don’t want to be in Narnia without you. It’s you, Puddleglum, and Tirian that I was there for, after all.”

Eustace smiles, and finally turns to face her. “How weirdly sweet of you. Did you eat something funny this morning?”

Scowling, she slaps his arm again as he laughs, then pauses. “Actually…”

“Wait, if you actually feel bad, go take some medicine.”

“No, no, not that,” Jill reassures, “It’s just that. Lately, there’s been something… strange going on.”

“Strange?” Eustace repeats.

“Strange,” Jill says, “Very strange.”

He eyes her for a moment, looking serious as she lays sprawled on the grass, then slowly leans back until he lies on the ground as well.

“Well, give it to me straight. Are we going to die?”

“My dreams are real,” she bursts out, and Eustace blinks, trying to process her words.

Pursing his lips, he says, “I’m not quite sure how to explain to you that that’s not how dreams work.”

“I mean , I dream things and I wake up with them. I dreamed up an apple and I was holding it when I woke up.”

“Are you sure you just haven’t been sleep walking and hungry at night?”

"I dreamed up a sword and a jewel covered cup.”

Eustace shots up as though he’s been shocked, and stares at her with wide eyes. “Does the cup have emeralds in it,” he says, growing louder with each word, “Is it made of gold?”

Jill stares back, unsure of where this is going. “…Yes,” she slowly answers, “How could you possibly know that?”

“I was a dragon.”

“I need a little more explanation, Scrubb.”

He waves his hand in the air. “You know.” Jill does not know. She stares.

“Last summer, when I ended up in Narnia with my cousins, I became a dragon because I tried to steal gold from a dragon’s hoard. Aslan fixed me up, but I still carry some dragon traits.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I’m really good at finding things. And I know when someone has something valuable. That’s how I knew you had something with gold and emeralds a while back; it’s like a sense, or a certain smell. I can’t explain it, but it’s how I was when I was a dragon.”

“Huh,” Jill says. “Well. That’s. Hmm.”

Eustace shrugs. “Narnia leaves its mark on people. I just the dreams are your mark.”

“Hmm,” she says, and files this new information away for later.

That’s all they say of it that day, before Eustace turns the topic onto his newfound love of baking, and they say their goodbyes, promising to meet up during the summer despite the distance between their homes.

It takes a few nights of testing. Jill dreams and tests the limits of her awareness; she’s practically awake, but there’s a haze covering everything, making it feel unreal. She supposes it is unreal, being a dream and all. Even so, she explores her dreamscapes, mostly neighborhoods and unfamiliar house and sometimes a forest filled with silence.

She brings back an acorn and a blue mug to the waking world, then starts to test the limits of her dreams.

Just like lucid dreaming, Jill can control her dreams, to a certain extent. It takes a great amount of focus to change the landscape, so great that she wakes up immediately after managing it. Every night it becomes easier, and that’s all Jill needs to keep going.

She can also dream up certain things. She calls up flowers and candles and even a few birds. Jill begins to wake up more exhausted, but the thrill of controlling her dreams makes her push past it. She’s been successful in every one of her experiments so far, but the next is what she’s been looking forward to.

Jill spends the day distracted, writing a letter to Eustace about spending a day together, and does her best to picture him as accurately as possible as she writes, She barely tastes any food she eats and can’t remember a single word her father has said; instead Jill is focused on the ticking of the clock, waiting for the hours to pass and the sun to go down.

The nerves alone almost keep her from falling asleep. But the pull of it is too strong to be put off for long, and a few minutes after she’s laid down, staring at the sliver of moonlight that managed to slip past her curtains, Jill is falling into darkness and opening her eyes in a dream.

“Okay,” she says to herself, psyching herself up, “Worst thing that can happen is that it doesn’t work.”

Letting out a deep breath, Jill stands and surveys the landscape around her. The grounds of Experiment House greet her. She stands at the bushes where Eustace first told her of Narnia; perhaps her subconscious still has some say on what she dreams.

She focuses, staring into the empty space in front of her, trying to pull Eustace in. The familiar drop of her stomach hits, and suddenly, he’s there, confused but undoubtedly Eustace.

Jill laughs, giddy with excitement, and throws herself forwards to hug him.

“What– Jill?” he says, patting her back. He’s shocked enough to use her first name, which makes Jill laugh even more. Perhaps it’s time for first names, anyways. They’ve already helped Narnia together. Surely being kidnapped into her dream is a good enough time to stop using their surnames.

“Eustace! You’re in my dream!”

“Oh, well, excuse me. Didn’t mean to intrude.”

She rolls her eyes and pulls away from him to let him look around. “No, you dolt,” she says, “Don’t be so polite. I pulled you into my dream.”

“Oh!” he says, “This is the dream thing you told me about a while ago!”

“The very same.”

“And you choose to dream about Experiment House?” Eustace sounds far too judgemental for someone who can’t control his dreams. Unacceptable.

She tosses her head and says, “No! Well, not really. I don’t choose what my dreams look like when I first end up in them. But I can change the landscape! Takes a lot out of me, but I can do it.”

Eustace hums in response, not bothering to say anything. He sounds disbelieving, which. Rude. Jill wants to change the landscape just to spite him, but she knows it’ll end her time in the dream rather quickly. Maybe some other time she’ll be able to show off and prove him wrong.

For now, Jill focuses on another issue.

“You’re properly Eustace, right?” she asks. “Not just a version of him my mind’s created, but you’re really you, right?”

He frowns, and says, “Well, I hope so. I’m not sure how to tell if I’m not me.”

“Well, we’ll know when we wake up and you remember this. Oh!” Jill stops, holds out her hand, and imagines an apple dropping into it. Once it’s in her hand, she tosses it to Eustace, who fumbles with the catch. “Assuming you are really Eustace, let me know when see each other in two days if you wake up with that apple in hand.”

“Hey!” Eustace suddenly exclaims, “If this does work, then you can dream me up ingredients and I won’t have to go shopping for them!”

Jill stares at Eustace, who grins as though he’s thought of something very clever, then sighs.

“I can’t believe you,” she groans. “I can dream things up and pull them into reality, and you want to turn me into a grocery store?!”

“Well, you’re not really a grocery store since I won’t be paying you.”

“And why won’t you be paying me!”

“Can’t you just dream up some money?”

Jill pauses, then tilts her head, considering. “You know what? I could do that.” She shakes her head, turning back to the matter at hand. “Anyways, you have to let me know if it works! I still haven’t figured out everything with this whole dreaming business.”

“I will, I will! Now, can you dream us somewhere else? I was really hoping I’d never see this place again.”

“Pole!” Eustace waves at her from across the street, then quickly makes his way over, grinning. “Come on, my house is close by and my parents are out so we can talk about Narnia without anyone overhearing.”

“Alright, lead the way,” she says, gesturing for him to go forth. “Say, have you had any strange dreams lately?”

He turns back to grin at her as he pushes past people on the sidewalk. “I have actually. Dreamed we were back at Experiment House and you gave me an apple.”

“So it worked!”

“Well, the apple was gone when I woke up, but besides that, I’d say it did.”

“Good. There’s one more thing I want to try, then.”

Eustace turns the corner and Jill hurries to catch up, squeezing past people and bumping into quite a few more in her hurry. He laughs when she calls out to him to slow down, but waits for her at the end of the street. He doesn’t bother dodging when Jill punches his shoulder, so she calls it even and he slows down enough for her to keep up.

“You’re always such a menace,” she grumbles ash she waits for him to unlock the door of his house and let her in.

“You’re the one who came across town today, not me. You could have just stayed home.”

“Shut up. It’s so I can know the results of the dream.”

“And definitely not because we’re friends,” Eustace teases, opening the door..

Jill elbows him as she steps inside, looking away to hide a smile. “Of course not, why would I ever have friends when I’m busy taking over the world?”

“Then I guess you didn’t come for the cake either.”

“Oh, no, the cake is the only reason I’m here, actually.”

“Well!” Eustace says, clapping his hands together as he kicks the door shut. “Come on, let me get you a slice and you can tell me how it is.”

He leads her to the kitchen and shoves a pile of letters and other papers to the side before pulling out plates and forks. The cake he takes out of the fridge actually looks nice, shaped by the placement of thin apple slices and lightly covered in caramel.

Jill whistles. “Wow, that actually looks edible!”

“We’ll see if it is once you eat it.”

“Can’t believe I’m willing to die for this cake,” Jill grumbles as Eustace carefully cuts out a slice and lays it on a plate. He hands it to her and watches nervously as she takes a bite. Just to mess with him, Jill is careful to from being to expression, making him fidget more each second. Then she smiles and nods her head.

“Alright,” she says, “That’s a damn good cake.”

The grin Eustace gives her is bright and his shoulders slump as though a great weight were taken off of them. “I’m glad. I was worried it’d turn out bad.”

“Keep baking like this and I’m sure you’ll be opening up your own shop soon enough.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, so long as you give me a few discounts when I come by.”

“That aside!” Eustace says, fighting off a blush, “The dreams!”

Setting her empty plate down, Jill nods, leaning back against the counter. “The dreams,” she repeats. “Were you really there? How much do you remember?”

“All of it. So it really works? You can really control your dreams?”

“And bring other people into them, it seems. But I guess only I can bring things I dream up back into the real world.”

“What are you going to do next?”

Jill tugs on the hem of her shirt, and looks away, suddenly feeling anxious. “Well, I was going to try to bring Tirian into my dream.”

“But he’s in Narnia,” Eustace says, shocked, “We don’t even know how much time has passed since we left.”

“I want to try, at least. I keep wishing we were able to spend more time with him.”

Eustace sighs, then nods. “Alright. But bring me into your dream if you’re going to try. I don’t want you to end up stuck in your dreams because some Narnian magic trapped you.”

The relief she feels is overwhelming. While part of her anxiety came from worrying whether it was possible to bring Tirian into her dreams, another part was worrying about what she should do if she got stuck in Narnia through her dreams and couldn’t wake up. There was no one else she could ask her help, not in this world, but at least she wouldn’t have to go about it alone.

How lucky she is to have Eustace as a friend.

Maybe she should dream up ingredients to bring him next time.

“So how’s this all work?”

“Well,” Jill frowns, “I just kind of. Imagine what I want in my dreams and try to bring it to me. It takes more effort with anything larger than a chair, but it’s worked for me so far.”

“It’s all very-” Eustace waves a hand in the air, “-vague. Magicky. You know.”

“It’s a dream , of course it’s vague! It’s not like I got step by step instructions on this.”

This time Jill dreams up her grandparent’s house out in the country, and old thing surrounded by green fields and wildflowers. Eustace is looking around, poking the wooden fence that is falling apart and inspecting the flowers beneath it as though he expects his hand to phase through them. But Jill’s dreams are always surprisingly real; the world around her is solid and both she and Eustace are able to interact with it as though they’re awake.

“Alright,” Jill says, taking a deep breath, “Wish me luck.”

“No,” Eustace says almost immediately, shooting her a grin.

She sticks her tongue out at him, then concentrates on the space in front of her. She thinks back to Tirian, tied in the chair, helping them through the cave, returning to Narnia and turning back to them moments before Aslan returned them to Earth. She focuses, imagines him standing in front of her, and pulls.

For a moment, nothing happens. The disappointment sinks like an anchor in her stomach, then the air in front of her warps, shimmers, shifts.

Tirian slowly comes into focus, eyes closed and sleeping. He sways for a moment, suspended in the air, before he pitches forwards. Eustace rushes forwards and catches him just as Jill throws herself on the ground to cushion their fall.

It’s only because this is a dream that she’s not feeling pain, but the impact knocks the breath out of her regardless.

Carefully, Eustace sits up and pulls Tirian with him, allowing Jill to move and push herself off the ground. Tirian sleeps through this, too.

As Eustace tries to shake him awake, Jill claps her hands in front of his face a few times, then frowns.

“Maybe it’s because he’s in Narnia that he’s asleep?”

“I mean… It’s a good a guess as any,” Eustace says, pinching Tirian’s cheeks. “Can’t you dream him awake?”

An idea forms in her head that makes her grin. “Oh, I can do you one better,” she grins, then imagines a bucketful of cold water being dumped on their heads.

Immediately, Eustace is jumping up, shocked and offended. Tirian sputters, rolling away and then sitting up to shake his head.

“What?” he says, looking around panicked, “Hello? What? Where am I?”

Jill quickly dreams the water off them both, then reaches down to grab Tirian’s hands and pull him up onto his feet.

“Welcome to my dream, Tirian!”

He stares at her for a long moment, eyes wide, shocked. He glances behind her at Eustace, then softens.

“My friends!” he says, throwing his arms out, “I never thought I’d see you again!”

Laughing, Eustace barrels into both of them, trapping them in a hug.

They stay there together for a long time, just reveling in the feeling of being together again, without having to worry about being whisked away and forgotten. It feels so real, and for a moment, Jill is horribly heartbroken to know that when she wakes up, she will be alone. Eustace will be across the city and Tirian will be a world away.

As though he knows what she’s thinking, Eustace tightens his grip on her, then pulls away. His eyes are bright with unshed tears, and Jill swears that, for a moment, they look golden.

“How am I here?” Tirian asks, looking at them with wonder in his eyes.

“It’s all her,” Eustace says, patting Jill’s shoulder. She flushes and shakes her head.

“I don’t really know how it works, but I can control my dreams. Make bits of them reality. So I dreamed you here.”

“Incredible!” Tirian beams. “I am glad to know you have not forgotten me.”

She shrugs. “Yeah well, I thought it was a shame that we didn’t get to spend much time together. Eustace too, though he’s spent more time in Narnia that I.”

“Yes, my father used to tell me stories about his voyage! I’m still having trouble remembering them, the memories come without warning, but you were a dragon, weren’t you?”

“I was,” Eustace answers, “It didn’t last, obviously, and while it scared me at first, I have to admit that being a dragon was rather fun.”

“How unfair,” Jill mopes, “You get to be a dragon and travel to different places, and I almost get eaten by giants!”

“I also almost got eaten by giants. I was there too.”

“Well, this isn’t about you.”

Tirian laughs at their banter. “You must be very close. I can only hope I have a friendship as good as yours someday.”

“You’re friends with us, aren’t you?” Jill asks, “We didn’t get much time together, but I think of you as my friend.”

“Same here,” Eustace says, reaching out to sling an arm around Tirian’s shoulder. “Say, would you like some cake? I’ve taken to baking recently.”

Jill imagines the apple cake she had the other day and carefully imagines it sliced, then imagines a table and a few chairs so they don’t have to eat on the ground. Tirian startles when they suddenly appear, then follows Eustace’s lead and takes a seat.

“I hate to ask this,” Tirian starts, “But how long do we have? We have to wake up eventually, right?”

“We do, but we can always meet again the next night.”

“Say,” Eustace cuts in, “How long do we have left in here?”

“I’ve decided: time isn’t real, so we’ll wake up when we want to.”

Eustace throws a cake crumb at her. “That’s not how it works!”

“Excuse me, but is this your dream? Thought not. Don’t tell me what to do.”

Tirian watches them bicker as he eats his cake, and Jill is glad to see that he seems happier, lighter, compared to when they had rescued him. He was doing well in Narnia, and she decided that even if she can never see him in person, knowing he’s alright is more than enough for her.

“Tirian, give me something,” she says suddenly, holding out a hand. “I want to make sure I can call you back.”

Without question or hesitation, he slips a necklace off and drops it into her hand. It’s a simple coin engraved with a lion, and Eustace focuses on it intently, before nodding to himself and relaxing back into his seat.

“You better not lose that, Jill. It’s high quality gold.”

“Dragons should mind their own business,” she replies, then throws a crumb at him. “Enough of that now, tell me what you’ve been up to! Have you been well? What’s Narnia like now?”

Jill wakes up, feeling lighter and happier than she has in years. All that dreaming and imagining did make that bone deep exhaustion settle in her, but after seeing Tirian again, it’s more than worth it. She sits up, prepared to look through maps and wander around London to dream it more accurately, when something falls off her chest into her lap.

The gold coin of the necklace seems even brighter in the waking world, and for a moment, Jill can swear she sees the lion smile.

#tcon #tconedit #narnia #jill pole #Tirian #eustace scrubb #type: fanfiction #narnia exchange #winterexchange: 1 #for bexlynne #by luxaofhesperides

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youhavegottobejokingeustace · 4 years

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Rules for Narnia: Christmas edition #7

Snowmen are not meant to be used as practice dummies unless otherwise specified by the snowman's creator. If it is not otherwise specified, and you still do it you must deal with the consequences whether that will be anger (such as someone chasing you with a dagger or someone shooting arrows at you) or crying (as you destroyed the snowman they worked for hours to make look like Puddleglum) is up to the person whose snowman you destroyed. Tread lightly.

#peter pevensie #susan pevensie #polly #peter #puddleglum #eustace scrubb #eustace #lucy pevensie #lucy #edmund pevensie #narnia fandom #narnia books #chronicles of narnia #narnia #nature #snowman #snow #christmas #rules for narnia

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nothinggold13 · 5 years

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Lessons from Narnia to take into the new year:

Frank: Be loyal; to your beliefs, to your values, and to your loved ones. Cling to your beliefs in the dark, and never leave behind the ones you love. Helen: Speak for the good of others. Be brave for those who can’t, and be faithful to those who need you. Digory: Logic and reason do not equal cynicism. Be clever, be open, and have faith. Polly: Don’t be afraid of looking like a fool. Say what you’re thinking and ask questions when you need to. Peter: Don’t let your fears hold you back from what you need to do. You don’t need to feel brave to act bravely. Susan: Let yourself be gentle. Be considerate of others; be compassionate. There is strength in gentleness, too, even when others don’t see it. Edmund: Even a traitor may mend: you are not defined by your past mistakes. Forgive yourself, for you have been forgiven. Lucy: Know when to follow, and know when to go on alone. You might not share the world’s values, and it’s important to know when you’re following the wrong thing. Stick to your convictions. Don’t be afraid if you’re the only one. Eustace: Change doesn’t happen all at once. Just because you still fall short doesn’t mean the cure hasn’t begun. Jill: Don’t be afraid to cry. Your feelings are important, and you are allowed to express them. Shasta/Cor: When you are at your highest, stay humble. You are no better at your most fortunate than you were when you felt unfortunate. Aravis: Be true to yourself, and then find the strength to grow. Forget your pride, but never forget you are worthy of love and respect. Corin: Stand up for what matters to you. Stand up for others. Never let your failures stop you from trying again. Bree: Never stop chasing what you want; never stop working to be where you want to be. Keep taking steps towards your goals, and walk with those who share them. Hwin: Give hope to the hopeless. Be there for those who have no one, and stand by them on their journey. Caspian: Don’t give up. Help will come, you’ll make it through, and you will reach your dreams. It’s never too late. Trufflehunter: Know when to hold on. Change is not always progress, and some things are worth staying true to. Sometimes it is good to stay the same. Reepicheep: Be firm in your convictions, and be true to yourself. Go where you are called, even when everyone else turns back. Puddleglum: Believe when it is hardest to. In the dark, still believe in the sun. Some things are more important than your present circumstances, anyways. Rilian: Be devoted; to those you love, and to what you believe in. Tirian: Stand firm, even in the darkest hour, and never stop fighting for a better tomorrow. Give everything for what matters to you. Know that it’s worth the fight.

#narnia #the chronicles of narnia #new year 2019 #I'm not even attempting to tag all these characters #I made a terrible mistake doing so many #I was just gonna do the friends of narnia #but then Cor and Aravis and Caspian #and it all kinda grew from there

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catkin-morgs-kookaburralover · 8 months

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hey this is a reminder that even if you just self harmed (maybe especially if you did) you still deserve love and care. please take care of yourself. please clean the wounds. update your tracking app. if you're cold put on your favourite jumper. if you're hot see if you can go somewhere cooler. go eat some chocolate, if you like it. have your favourite hot drink. rest. be gentle.

the fact that you just harmed doesn't mean you must remain in misery. please take care I'm rooting for you <3

#me @ me rn lol #tw sh #personal #puddleglum hours

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changingplumbob · 6 months

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Villareal Household: Chapter 3, Part 4

Devin and Luna visit their doctor, before Devin plays a doctor in her guest star role on Residency of the Heart.

Luna: Thank you for having an after hours clinic

Dr: Well babies never stick to work hours so why should we. Will your wife be joining us?

Luna: Oh she's already in the office, we're so excited

Dr: Glad to hear it. Always helps when both parents are in sync Luna: Pretty sure our hearts beat in sync

Dr: Lie down and we can start the ultrasound

Devin: This is so exciting

Dr: Before we get started are you wanting to know the sex?

Luna: Yes please Dr. We're already thinking of too many names. It would be nice to narrow our selection

Devin: If only by half

Dr: I know what you mean

Devin: You don't let paparazzi in here do you?

Dr: Rest assured Mrs Villareal, all your records will be kept private and confidential

Luna: It would be nice to tell people ourselves

Dr: Now you know your baby will be an individual right? What sex appears on the ultrasound will not necessarily fit

Devin: We're part of the queer community, we get it

Luna: He's just being thorough schatz

Dr: The gel will be cold but you shouldn't have any pain. What trimester are you?

Luna: First trimester. Will you be able to find-

Dr: Don't worry, I've been doing this for a long time, just relax back for a sec

Dr: There we are. Now this machine can be buggy but I can see both of your boys. Congratulations, you're having twins

Devin: Twins?

Luna: Boys?

Devin: Will they be identical?

Dr: This technology can't tell unfortunately but you'll know when they get here

Luna: And they look okay? The right size?

Dr: Development looks normal for both. Now, have you thought about your birth plan?

Devin: We were busy just trying to get pregnant

Dr: No problem, take our information booklets and consider the options. Call us when you have an idea and we can get the ball rolling

Luna: Thank you

Dr: Happy to help

At breakfast the next morning the couple start to narrow down name ideas.

Devin: I would like a nod to some of the great artists in film

Luna: Such as

Devin: Cary, James, Clark, Alfred

Luna: I veto James, I knew a bad James

Devin: What names are in your head

Luna: Some literary names of course

Devin: Not Heathcliff

Luna: How about Edward

Devin: Not like Cullen right

Luna: No, like Rochester. Or we could pick a name from Narnia like Edmund

Devin: Didn't he fall for the white witch's trap?

Luna: He redeemed himself. Or there's Diggory, Caspian, Rilian

Devin: Puddleglum

Luna: OMG imagine

Luna: I'm craving something sweet

Devin: Pancakes aren't sweet

Luna: Blame the boys

Devin: Okay let's go

Luna: Go where

Devin: There's a small sweet shop by the park

The pair fetch some sweets for Luna but upon arriving home Luna is hit by nausea. Guess 7am chocolate cake isn't always the best idea?

9am sharp Devin reports to the studio for her guest role on Residency of the Heart. Once again it appears multiple groups are using the stages. Devin wastes no time getting into hair, makeup and costume as soon as she can. It appears they're not a requirement anymore but Devin takes her craft seriously.

All dressed up Devin goes to practice her lines with Anaya. Devin was paying extra attention to the hospital staff during the ultrasound appointment. TV drama may not be reality but Devin wants to do her best at appearing as a serious character instead of plain comic relief for the other actors.

Before filming starts Devin checks on Connor. Good thing she did as he is feeling very uncomfortable. Devin takes time to reassure him the blonde looks fine and that the audience won't think less of him for not sticking to his natural colour. A pep talk seems to be just what the doctor ordered.

The first scenes to shoot are the patient ones. Anaya and Devin steady themselves before springing into action. The patient Anaya is playing seems to be trouble and tries to refuse lifesaving treatment. Luckily Devin manages to outwit her objections and the treatment is delivered just in time.

Next up are the romance scenes with Connor. He's shaken off his uncomfortableness and is a great acting partner. The script has Devin as the instigator of the romance so she channels her most charming self. At the end she and Connor grab a quick selfie to celebrate a job well done.

The studio becomes hushed as Devin gathers herself for her character's death scene. She takes a deep breath, thinking of how she would feel to die before seeing her babies, and the guilt at leaving Luna alone. As she falls to the ground and waits to hear cut she is sure she hears a few sniffles.

Norah: CUT

Devin: Phew

Norah: That's a wrap everyone

Devin: Did I do okay?

Norah: You were a star today Devin, everyone was impressed

Devin: Thanks, good luck with the editing

When Devin arrives home she's on a high from a job well done. She decides to do a house expansion for Luna and their boys.

Devin takes care of some chores and works on upgrading the showers so they will break less often. Luna arrives home feeling super confident, as she should. Luna has been promoted and decides to go down the professor path. She loves learning and this feels like the best way to carry on.

Luna: What happened to our house

Devin: I expanded, we couldn't exactly fit twins before

Luna: Aww, look at our wedding photos

Devin: Are you crying

Luna: I'm hormonal okay

Devin: Understood. Do you like it

Luna: You gonna give me the tour

Devin: First stop is the bedroom

Luna: *giggles*

Devin: You have the vacation days

Luna: I know but I just got promoted

Devin: Exactly, they'll expect you to have time to celebrate

Luna: You know I'm a workaholic

Devin: But a baby shower would be a great chance to see everyone, we haven't seen your brothers since before Jacques died

Luna: Right

Luna: Hi, yes this is Mrs Villareal. I will need someone to cover my lecture tomorrow

Devin: Yes!

Luna: Yes the notes are all prepared and colour coded. Right in the middle of my desk.

Devin: You're so damn smart Lu

Luna: Shh! No, no, not you. You've been a great help. Thank you. Yes I'll rest up.

That evening Devin works on adding mobiles to the cribs while Luna stress bakes.

Devin: What are you making

Luna: Marshmallow squares, we need enough food for tomorrow

Devin: I don't think eating is a requirement for baby showers

Luna: I'm always hungry at the moment so how could it hurt?

The pair settle on the spare bed and Luna begins to read to the twins inside her

Devin: Lu the book is upside down

Luna: I know that and you know that but you don't have to tell them

Devin: *chuckles*

Luna: Once upon a time there was a mall dinosaur

Devin: Small

Luna: Right, upside down reading here

The women work their way through the book, taking turns to read aloud to their boys

Luna: They're going to love the voices you use

Devin: I hope so, they will be my harshest critics

Luna: They'll love you, hear that boys! You'll love your mama

Devin: *giggles* Their mummy needs sleep

Luna: I do I do

Previous Part ... Next Part

#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #Rotation6 #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #VillarealHousehold #LunaVillareal #DevinVillareal #R0605

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fragmentedshards · 5 years

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Eira, Chapter Two

When Loki reached roughly the middle of the main avenue of County Keldcaster, he stopped to take a look around. It had not occurred to him when Thor suggested rehabilitation in Midgard that he would have no idea where to begin or what to do. Where would he stay? How would he provide for food? What was he going to tell anybody he happened to meet about himself? He stood in the middle of the street, slowly looking around him at the shopfronts and trying to decide what to do next. Behind him to the right he saw a small, deep purple building with windows full of books and the words Pippin & Puddleglum written across the top of the doorframe in gold lettering. Wondering how he had walked past such a vibrant structure, he retraced his steps back to it and, hesitating a moment, stepped through the door to the interior.

The bell above the door jingled lightly, and two simultaneously different and similar smells flooded Loki’s nose at the exact same moment. One was the fresh scent of brand new books, barely thumbed through by even five people; the other was the musty scent of old books, with peeling edges on their covers and scars on their spines. For an instant his mind was transported back to the grand library in Asgard, reading books on magic as a little boy with his mother, both of them basking in a soft golden light. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light within Pippin & Puddleglum, he began to see the design of the whole place. Sturdy oak shelves absolutely stuffed with books stretched all the way up to the ceiling, two stories high, and a marvelous spiral staircase with intricate carvings in the wood ran up to the second story floor from the center of the building. In the far back against the right wall was a long wooden service desk. Dotted around the first and second floors were armchairs, couches, and coffee tables; all of them looked rather worn out and none of them matched. Loki could not see what the floor of the second story looked like, but as the floor beneath his feet was covered in shabby patterned rugs of all different colors he assumed the same for the top floor. There was a good deal of people scattered throughout, and a muted hum of activity permeated the building which came from the whispers of visitors to one another.

His thought in entering Pippin & Puddlelgum was to gain his bearings and make a plan. However, before he had fully taken in the entire scene, he was approached by a pale, portly woman wearing a light blue sweater and smiling brightly at him. She stood a full head shorter than Loki himself and beamed up at him from behind soft auburn curls that brushed her wool- clad shoulders. He noticed that she had smile lines on either side of her face, but only one dimple which resided on her right cheek.

“How can I help you?” she inquired, peering curiously at him. He knew enough about Midgard to recognize her accent as American.

“I... I’m sorry, I’m trying to find a place to stay and somewhere to work,” he stammered. He had not thought ahead this far at all.

“Oh, you’re a foreigner like Lisette and myself,” she laughed. “What brings you to County Keldcaster?”

Loki struggled to answer her question. He was not used to being caught this much off guard. “My family... they thought living here for a while would do me some good.”

“I see,” she nodded. “What did you say your name was?”

“L-Laurence,” he thought as quickly as he could as he spoke. “Laurence Royal.”

The woman stared at him for a split second, as if detecting his lie, before smiling once more. He had not noticed it before, but her eyes were a dark violet. “Well, I’m Eira, and this is my best friend and business partner Lisette,” she gestured at another woman who was emerging from behind the nearest bookshelf.

The woman named Lisette was just as pale as Eira, and their hair was roughly the same length and color, but the likenesses ended there. Where Eira was short and round, Lisette was tall and slender. Ezra's cheeks were chubby, but Lisette’s cheekbones were high and defined. Ezra’s deep purple eyes conveyed kindness, while Lisette’s peridot-green ones scanned Loki suspiciously from head to toe. She crossed her arms and leaned on the bookshelf, pursing her lips and furrowing her eyebrows.

“Now let’s see...” Eira clasped her hands together in thought while Lisette continued to stare unblinkingly at Loki. “The only inn in County Keldcaster is way up in the hills and is being completely rebuilt, it won’t be ready for guests for months... well, we can get to that later. As for work... what do you like to do?”

This question threw Loki for a loop. On Asgard he had spent most of his childhood and teenage years either playing pranks on Thor or else shut up in the library for hours. Everything he had done from then on had been centered on revenge. He realized he only had one answer that would suffice in Midgard.

He took a deep breath and answered. “Honestly... I love books,” he smiled sheepishly and gestured about them at the plethora of books. “I suppose that is what drew me in here to gather my thoughts in the first place.”

“Oh I see,” Eira laughed good-naturedly. “In that case I’m sure we can find something for you to do around here, right Lisette?”

“Sure,” came Lisette’s curt reply. She had raised an eyebrow higher up her forehead, but her eyes remained trained on Loki’s face. He shifted uncomfortably and did his best to pay attention to Eira. Listening to her go on, he smiled in spite of himself.

“Pippin & Puddleglum is the only bookshop in town, and the only library. We have old and new books for rent and for sale,” Eira beamed, but then her face fell. “But I don’t think we have the budget for a third employee... Oh I’ve got it!” she exclaimed, clasping her hands together again in excitement. “I have a spare bedroom in my house, why don’t you just live with me for the time being?”

At this, Lisette finally broke her gaze upon Loki and instead turned it upon Eira, who did not notice her friend staring at her as if she had lost her mind and continued to speak. Loki, for his part, felt his jaw drop and had to lift it with his hand.

“It’s only me and my cat right now, and there’s always plenty of food, so it won’t be any trouble to have you... lodging will be your payment for the work you do here at the bookshop! It’s perfect!”

Lisette looked as if she wanted to say something, but she kept quiet. Loki took his chance and bowed low. “Thank you for your kindness, Miss Eira,” he whispered humbly, then stood once more to find Eira and Lisette both with mildly surprised expressions on their faces.

“How nice,” Eira smiled and recovered herself in a moment, while Lisette fixed Loki with a stare once more. “Now, it’s nearly closing time, so Lisette and I are going to finish tending to the rest of the customers and then lock up... you’re welcome to pick a book and a chair until we’ve finished!” she motioned to the mass of shelves and seats, and with that she turned on her heel and walked briskly to the service desk. Lisette remained a moment longer, keeping her judgmental eyes on Loki, before pivoting and following Eira to the back of Pippin & Puddleglum.

Loki stood still until both women were positioned behind the desk and had begun rising up purchases. When he finally moved, he directed his steps to the bookshelf on the left wall and perused a small section. Eira had not exaggerated; there was certainly every kind of book on these shelves. Loki found books on ancient civilizations and famous historical figures, on plants and animals, books full of classic stories and poetry. He finally selected a shabby paperback of Nordic myths - he thought this would be appropriate as well as nostalgic - and settled into a threadbare green armchair to read.

Reading the stories about his family, his associates, and his environment brought his mind back to his old life, before he learned the truth and everything fell apart. These stories were really nothing more than mortal interpretations of the truth. In truth it was almost comical to read the stories Midgardians dreamt up about their gods and goddesses, particularly regarding his own fate: strapped to a boulder beneath a deadly serpent, venom dripping from its fangs. Loki covered his mouth to keep from laughing.

It seemed like just the next minute - but it was actually about thirty minutes - when Loki realized that all of the customers had left. He returned the book to the shelf and began walking to the back of Pippin & Puddleglum, searching for Eira. As he came within earshot of the service desk, he heard Eira and Lisette whispering. The more strident voice was Lisette’s, he knew now. He jumped behind the bookcase to eavesdrop.

“Are you insane, Eira?” she was asking in hushed whispers. “You have invited a stranger to live in your home. A complete and total stranger from who knows where!”

Loki heard Eira sigh. He peeked out from behind the bookcase and saw her shrug.

“What was I supposed to do? The inn is completely in shambles, so he can’t stay there, and even if there was anywhere else in town for him to stay there is no assurance that anywhere else would hire him, and we don't have enough money in the budget for an extra employee. This was the best possible solution.”

“You know this is dangerous,” Lisette chided angrily. “We both know it.”

“Well,” Eira sighed, audibly annoyed with her friend. “If he murders me, you know where I keep the file detailing my funeral and burial arrangements.”

Loki heard a drawer slam shut and had just enough time to jump into an innocent position - merely admiring the selection of Proust - before Eira and Lisette rounded the corner, both of them wearing burgundy coats.

“Alright, let’s be off,” Eira announced, grabbing one of Loki’s suitcases. “I’ll take one of these, and you can follow me to my house. I’ll see you tomorrow, Lisette!”

Lisette hummed, presumably doubtful, but nodded and followed Eira and Loki out the front door of Pippin & Puddleglum before going left down the sidewalk. Eira went right instead, walking rather quickly for a plump woman, nodding in greeting to every person she passed.

Loki received some strange glances from the same people who smiled at Eira, but he chose to ignore them. No use in getting upset over that when he did, in fact, deserve much worse. He did a fair bit of shivering also; he had not realized up until now - possibly from mere nerves - how cold it really was outside.

The walk from Pippin & Puddleglum was either not that far or else took less time because of Eira’s brisk strides, but very soon they took a left and were headed up into the hillsides. The

paths here were more dirt than anything, and instead of residential streets the paths just broke off to each home. Eira led him straight until they reached nearly the very end of the winding paths, at which point she turned and went up the walkway to a small red cottage covered with vines and surrounded by dozens of various kinds of white flowers. Instead of walking on dirt up to the porch, Loki found that they were walking on decorative stepping stones.

They reached the front door, which for some inexplicable reason was painted purple, and Eira turned a key in the lock. When it clicked, she looked over her shoulder at Loki and said cheerily, “Welcome to Redwall, Mr. Laurence.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #write #writer #writing #loki x oc #loki (marvel)#loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki #eira

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salt-hag · 5 years

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SOME FRESH OPINIONS ON THE NEW POKEMON GAME

ok so my opinions are probably not fresh, but this is what i’m thinking so far about what we have learned in the first sword and shield trailer:

between Sword and Shield:

sword

it’s the first one

it’s blue

plus swords are cool

swish

but i’ll immediately pick any game that has vulpix or ralts in it, doesn’t matter which one

the region:

it’s england babey

i’ve died and gone to heaven

i watched a “what would a pokemon region in england be like” video on youtube. it was an hour long. that fan version was pretty cool. galar reminds me of that but better, because it’s real and has pretty graphics

one thing in the video was a place based on project eden and i think that would be THE COOLEST so i hope that’s in this game

if not, i won’t die about it. but i hope we have a garden/conservation place

ok i’ve changed my mind, if there isn’t a victorian conservatory place that i might get murdered in, i’ll be a little mad

the girl has a backpack that looks like it can Hold Stuff, so this is officially the best pokemon game (the hoenn games come close with that fanny pack, but still not a back pack)

i have so many hopes for pokemon based on english/british folklore. give me dark fairy types please

the starters:

like a lot of people, i am so scared of the little soccer fire bunny growing up into another fighting type

the soccer bunny’s ears are super cute tho

the grass monkey has the most aesthetically pleasing and traditionally cute face

i don’t trust it

the water type’s name is SOBBLE. i naturally go for fire types but i may pick that one based on the name alone

puddleglum from the narnia books anyone?

if i pick sobble, will it be like having marvin from hitchiker’s guide to the galaxy on my pokemon team?

it has a cool frond fluffy thing on its head. that gives me hope for a cool evolution

i will NOT make a decision until i see the final evolutions. i’m still scarred by litten. i will not pledge to a starter right now. i am waiting.

that’s the end of my opinions for right now. i will not think about anything else for the rest of the day

#pokemon sword and shield #pokemon #my life #i am. so excited

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gurguliare · 5 years

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Ages ago I made that sanctimonious post about how Puddleglum et al releasing Rilian in The Silver Chair serves as an unintentionally nice suggestion that it is good to listen to crazy people when they express their needs. And now it’s like. ... ... ... Every day I feel happy and contented, perhaps because I am safely under the witch’s spell, and every night I sit there for four hours going YOU MUST NOT UNTIE THE SNAKE PERSON

#and then i untie the snake person and it goes to make text posts on tumblr #so i guess #that's fine?#nature finds a way

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elwinged · 3 years

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etaaaaa!!! congratulations on 300 lovely! you deserve the world and moreeee ilu :D 🍀+marvel, tsc, narnia 🤍 (also 🌼,, the witcher last wish) WHEEE

aaahhh harls thank u ily!!!!!! <3<3

blog compliment: I LITERALLY ADORE YOUR BLOG SM. the theme? iconic. i love it. the reds and pinks? GORG. the layout? hot damn. and your mobile theme? the header? the colours? stunning. oscar worthy. also slightly unrelated but your urls are always!! top tier!!

marvel-

the shadowhunter chronicles-

narnia-

want one?

#eta celebrates 300 #asks #answered #mutuals #harls.

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metalandmagi · 5 years

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December End of the Year Media Madness!

It’s a new month and a new year! And what a crazy month it was what with Tumblr imploding and all. But I’ll still throw this on here just because I’ll be on this site until it literally boots me out. But I do have a twitter now…@metalandmagi where I’m also barely active at all.

Anyway, why make top 10 lists for the entire year when I can just ramble about all the media I consumed this month? There’s only a marginal amount of holiday things on here by my standards!

November media

Movies!

Give me some credit there’s only four Christmas movies on here.

Won’t You Be My Neighbor?: A documentary about Mr. Rogers starting with the birth of the television show to his death. This is the fluffiest most heartwarming thing I could have possibly picked to watch on Christmas, and I encourage everyone, even people who hate documentaries and/or never grew up with Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, to watch it. There’s a lot of important messages about acceptance, dealing with tragedy, and mental health that people can learn from and feel good about. Not to mention how he completely revolutionized children’s television. So yeah, he was awesome.10/10

Spider-man Into the Spider-verse: When a rip between dimensions is opened, a bunch of different spider themed superheroes from every comic fan’s wet dreams all get together to close it. Guys I’m not that big of a Spider-man fan, but dang this movie was a ton of fun. I came for the amazing visual effects and stayed for the amazing...everything else. The music, the performances, and the story were all top notch. Also I now have a new favorite Nick Cage role. If you thought the trailer made the animation look interesting, it was just the tip of the iceberg because it is the most visually interesting movie I’ve seen in the last three years. I strongly suggest any fan of animation...or even any fan of great stories and movies in general go see it even if you’re not that big on Spider-Man. Now I’m demanding a Spider-verse Aunt May movie because I have so many questions! And the post credits scene was the best out of any Marvel movie. Period. 10,000/10

The Wiz (2015 musical): I should start making a section for musicals or plays instead of just lumping it in with the movies. It’s the Wizard of Oz...but cool. I’ve never seen any iteration of The Wiz and it seems like I’m constantly hearing about it. So I watched the 2015 version of the 1975 Broadway musical that NBC aired. And yeah it’s good. There were some great performances. But I wasn’t very impressed with the songs themselves, and it’s not really the same without a dog along for the ride, but whatever. 7.5/10

Jumanji Welcome to the Jungle: The surprisingly fun reboot/sequel thing of Jumanji where four teenagers get stuck in a video game that follows every “stuck in a video game” trope you can imagine but actually does it well. It’s a sweet, funny romp through the jungle with some great comedic performances. I really don’t have much to say about it except that this movie is better than it has any right to be. 8/10

The Christmas Chronicles: Two children stow away on Kurt Russell’s, I mean Santa’s sleigh and go on a dangerous, balls to the wall adventure throughout Chicago trying to save Christmas or something. After everyone started talking about how crazy this Netflix movie is I had to watch it to verify if it is indeed as wild as they said. And yes...yes it is. It is so laughably ridiculous and questionable that it’s impossible to actually hate. The elves are some unholy mixture of minions and gremlins, one of the children is a literal felon that no one is concerned about, and Kurt Russell is super into the role but has some sort of thing about fat-shaming Santa. I just...have so many questions! But it was certainly a trip, so I’d have to recommend it just so you too can witness the insanity. -10 “savvy, straight-talking St. Nicks”/10

Arthur Christmas: No, it’s not a Christmas special related to the aardvark cartoon! This is the 2011 animated movie that no one remembers exists. Santa’s clumsy but enthusiastic son Arthur must deliver a forgotten present in less than two hours while the rest of his family deals with some Arrested Development style family drama. This is by far the most underrated Christmas movie of all time; even I didn’t realize it was actually good until I watched it for the first time in 2016! The fun road-trip style plot and the entertaining characters were victims of bad marketing. Arthur is hilariously endearing, and there was so much heart and effort put into it that I can find new things to notice every time I watch it. Not to mention the amazingly animated opening spy sequence! And also Mrs. Claus is secretly a total badass and Bryony the elf is the coolest female character in a Christmas movie ever. The movie’s message of old vs new is nothing we haven’t seen before, but I really don’t care because at the heart of it all, it’s about making people happy on Christmas. If you’re like me and just assumed this movie would suck...or didn’t know it exists, please give it a chance. It’s not perfect, but it’s worth seeing. 9/10

Neo Yokio Pink Christmas: Yes, it’s the Christmas special for Neo Yokio. No I cannot accurately describe it with mere words. There’s a rich bachelor gift exchange, demon possession, and pompous French aunts slinging insults at each other. It is unironically my favorite holiday episode of a show ever, and to me it’s the best Christmas special ever made. I thought I was prepared for the absolute bat-shit ride I would go on, but no...I wasn’t even close. At this point I don’t know if it’s written like this on purpose or if some divine twist of fate made the executives believe this is truly brilliant television. Either way, it is a masterpiece in its own right. There’s even a somewhat intriguing plot and a message about gift giving and capitalism under all the crazy! If you haven’t jumped down the rabbit hole yet, I implore you to watch the insanity that is Neo Yokio and follow it up with Pink Christmas because it will truly make your holiday season. 100,000 demon DNA drugs out of 100,000!

Die Hard: Nothing says Christmas like terrorists taking over a skyscraper and Bruce Willis having to take them all down by himself. Yeah...so I’ve never seen Die Hard before, but this is one of those movies that is so famous that I felt like I’d already absorbed everything important through cultural osmosis. And even though it’s pretty good, I would have liked it better if I didn’t know what was going to happen. My only real complaint is that I think it goes on way too long. More than anything it just made me sad to remember that Alan Rickman is gone. And it bothers me so much that John McClane goes through this building that’s under construction WITHOUT SHOES! 8/10

Books!

The Silver Chair by C.S. Lewis: The 4th/6th book in the Chronicles of Narnia, in which Eustace Scrubb and his classmate Jill Pole go to the underworld to find King Caspian’s long lost son. Even though my children- the Pevensies aren’t in it, I actually think this book is my favorite of the series so far. Jill and Eustace are both sassy enough to play off each other, Puddleglum absolutely hilarious, and the book actually has a clear cut plot! It reads much more like a Greek myth than a children’s fairy tale since there aren’t nearly as many of Lewis’s trademark author interjections, and you know...it’s a literal journey to the underworld. And can I just say that it’s super refreshing to have an author write two main characters WITH ZERO ROMANTIC INTENTIONS! Especially since they’re freaking children! Now I just wish Disney had continued the movies even more! 9/10

Queen of Air and Darkness by Cassandra Clare: I’m going to do this with only minor spoilers. It’s the final book in The Dark Artifices trilogy. Will Emma and Julian break the parabatai bond? Will the reflection of the modern day American government- I mean the Cohort/ the Clave fuck up the relationships between Shadowhunters and Downworlders forever? You’ll have to suffer like the rest of us to find out! In my opinion, 99% of this book is amazing, but in the last 50 pages there are some...bullshit ways of solving problems. Like everything that went down with the Cohort in Idris. Not to mention we’ve been so invested in the parabatai curse and how Julian and Emma’s bond would go down and...let’s just say the resolution was way too easy. And if you thought Clare’s other finales were jam packed, you ain't seen nothin’ yet. My copy is 880 pages and there was still more stuff that I wanted to happen...like any sort of scene between Dru and Ash...or an ending between Kit and Ty that doesn’t make me want to cry (the Wicked Powers is going to be brutal). But the rest of that 99% is mind-blowing! There’s so much good I can say that it mostly outranks anything I didn’t like...I mean we finally got a Malec wedding and a proper polyamorous relationship for the Angel’s sake! It may be my least favorite of her finales by default but it was still a fun ride! 9/10

TV shows!

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018): An elite soldier finds a sword that can transform her into a super buff magical girl who helps princesses take down the forces of evil. It’s a reboot of the 1980s cartoon, and holy crap it’s AMAZING! I have a whole new group of children to adopt, each episode is entertaining in its own way, and there’s so...many...good...ships! And it gives Steven Universe a run for its money with the care that went into making every character a different kind of warrior, which I love because the cast is 99% female. My only real complaint is that I never warmed up to Catra because she wasn’t particularly sympathetic to me from the beginning. But I understand why some people love her. If you love well crafted adventurous character driven cartoons and haven’t watched it yet WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? 10/10

Nailed It Holiday: Yes, my favorite baking show (and by that I mean the only baking show I watch) has a holiday season out on Netflix, in which newbie bakers are tasked with making incredibly professional desserts with a very short time limit. And whoever makes the best treat gets 10,000 dollars. I’ve talked about this show before in my June media madness, and I don’t know what it is but I’m so addicted to it. 10/10

Brooklyn nine-nine (season 5): Come on we all know the cop sitcom. It’s the best sitcom. Just in general it’s the best. Great characters that subvert expectations, great humor, and a lot of heart. I’ve known that this show is supposed to be amazing for years, but I only started watching it a few months ago. And since I couldn’t find season 5 anywhere...I got a Hulu subscription just to watch it before season 6 comes out. That’s how good this show is. 10/10

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (season 2): Our favorite underdog comedian is back, and she’s slowly gaining popularity and doing...stuff. Like going on tour. And hanging out with Zachary Levi. Yes, this season is great, but my problem with this series is that every character aside from Midge and Susie are the fucking worst, especially the parents. Midge’s parents suck, Joel’s parents suck, Midge and Joel are appropriately neglectful parents for the time period...I could go on. And it’s not even in a funny way; like it’s just disgusting to watch these power dynamics. Not to mention how old the comedic bits for the parents get (how many times can we hear about Joel needing to date or Midge needing to get married?!) Yes, I realize that we’re supposed to be annoyed AND YES I realize that this is a product of culture and how society was, but none of the parents have any redeeming qualities. In episode one, we’re led to believe that Midge’s parents will grow and change through the season and they never do! At least there are moments where Joel can kind of be redeeming and expand on his actual character before he reverts back to being an asshole. Anyway, my thoughts are pretty much the same as the first season. It’s funny and interesting to watch, but it can be ridiculously frustrating when you hate almost all the characters! 8/10

Fuller House (season 4): Yes I do watch the ridiculous Netflix reboot of Full House. And yes, it is absolutely terrible! I really really hate it! But will I stop watching it? Let’s just say you can pry this pile of garbage from my cold dead hands. I don’t know if I’d call this a guilty pleasure or a hate watch type of show... it’s certainly not so bad it’s good territory like Neo Yokio...but Full House was pretty much my entire childhood. And yes, the original show is also not great. I loved it as a kid, and it was my first real exposure to a non-traditional family in live action, but yeah it doesn’t age well. What I’m trying to say is...I have no good reason for watching this.

I don’t mean to say that there’s nothing good about it, especially this season. They really back off on the more cringe-worthy catch phrases, Stephanie being aware of how stupid the writing is and constantly pointing it out is actually funny, their Christmas episode was surprisingly genuine, and they impressed me by actually make two female characters try and work through their difficulties instead of pitting them against each other for laughs. It has its moments, just like the original but definitely not enough to make up for the worst of it. Maybe this generation of children will like it the way lots of my generation used to like Full House...but yeah it’s awful, I hate it so much. -1 missing Tanner child out of 3

Voltron Legendary Defender (season 8) SPOILERS: It’s the final season of Netflix’s Voltron, and boy it was...something. I didn’t want to make this a big rant/defense of the show...but I feel like I have to highlight some things because this fandom is a shithole that refuses to see the good in anything.

There is so much good and so much...not good I can say about it, so here’s a couple things. I know this show didn’t go the direction anyone wanted, but that doesn’t make it bad. In addition to the stunning fight scenes and music, the performances this season were just amazing! I literally wanted to cry every other episode even though sometimes I didn’t know why the fuck something was happening. I don’t know how I feel about Honerva’s plan. I understand her motivation, but I was constantly questioning how we got from point A to point B... so yeah the plot and writing could be...weird at times. Also everyone seemed to have super pointy chins this season...

Spoiler alert: Not many of us wanted Lance and Allura to happen, but I truly believe it wasn’t done in a half assed way. At the very least, I appreciate that they had a genuine bond that developed over so many seasons. BECAUSE YES IT DID! Anyone who says they had no development or that it felt forced never paid attention. I wanted it to stay platonic; I wanted Klance to happen, but...I can’t be too mad at the writers because they at least tried. I still believe that Klance was endgame and the creators were forced to change the outcome of the show later on. AND YES LANCE DID GET A CHARACTER ARC! It may not have been the one we wanted to see, but I’m baffled that people think Lance living with his family, surrounded by people he loves-which is what he wanted all along- is not a happy ending. I just wish his relationship with Keith wasn’t pretty much ignored all season. But I believe Allura is his past that taught him to genuinely love and Keith is his future who will make Lance his “first choice”. And I’m not even gonna try to explain how I feel about Shiro and Allura’s endings because everything I feel is so complicated and layered. There is good and there is bad.

TLDR: This show teaches us that we’re stronger together, and I think the “fandom” completely missed the point because they do nothing but tear others down and refuse to look at things from other perspectives. YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO NOT LIKE IT, BUT YOU DON’T HAVE THE RIGHT TO TAKE AWAY OTHER PEOPLE’S ENJOYMENT AND BE A DICK ABOUT IT. It may not have been everything I wanted, but I’m glad I went on this ride. Besides, there are canonically infinite realities so there’s got to be a reality where all your dreams for the show come true. As a season, I’d say it’s a 7.5/10.

Honorable Mentions

I watched Avengers: Infinity War again. And yes it’s still great.

I’m watching Superstore because when another sitcom comes on before The Good Place, why not? Also since I finished season 5 of Brooklyn 99 I had to use my Hulu subscription for something.

Camp Camp has a holiday episode...so naturally I watched it...several times. Please watch Camp Camp.

Hellsing Ultimate Abridged finally ended, and I feel obligated to shout this out because, hey when you put out one episode a year it’s a big accomplishment to finish it!

Super Smash Bros Ultimate is finally here!!!!!!!!!!!

ALL THE WINTER ANIME IS ENDING!!! They were all so amazing! So shout out to Iroduku-The world in colors, Bloom into You, Hinomaru Sumo, Dakaichi, Banana Fish, Jingai no Yomen, Golden Kamuy, Skull-faced Bookseller Honda-san, Tsurune, AND RUN WITH THE WIND even though they’re not finished yet.

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