my susan

Susan Pevensie

The 1st day

That day was the hardest for Susan.                                                                   Aunt Alberta was sobbing so hard, Mr and Mrs Pole have just arrived, the look on their faces was something Susan never forgot, that or the sound of the sirens (police cars, ambulances) it was hard to make the difference. She always thought of smoking as a nasty habit but that day it seems like a normal thing to do, like an obvious escape.

3 years later

Estranged, that is a nice word to describe Susan, 3 years have gone and sometimes she wasn’t aware of them, of their lost of her lost.                             She came to Oxford to hang with some friends everything and she almost forgot which day was it, almost…                                                By accident, she ends up next to the statue, that statue, that very same place where her brothers hang so often. The place where they used to laugh and joke about if that was King Edmund The Just or the High King Peter, she almost heard Peter’s laugh and that smirk on Edmund’s face. It was like they were there waiting for her, so close to her…

5 years later

She hated that day, well, she actually hated every day that was a reminder of them, of their existence. After the accident, it took Susan a year use normally the train again. She was so deep in her thoughts that she barely could listen but it was so distinctive, her laugh. <‘’Susan, come on’’>                                                        By the time Susan react the train appear in front of her…. ’‘Lucy?’’ 

12 years later

A decade, a decade and a little bit more, that’s too much time. Susan was on vacation in America, again since she was 15, her friends take her to the Arizona dessert but the only thing she saw were the stars. So clear, so shining, so powerful and in the back of her head a whisper, a name, Aslan…

30 years later

A lifetime, that is what Susan lived… her life. Yes, it was hard but at the same time, it became easy. These days she had a family, not like the one she lost, but a good one. She often thought about her parents, she was older than them when they die. It cost her 30 years, near to 11,000 days to came at peace with them, with her… because it never was about the lipsticks or the parties, it was about forget and forgive, learn and eventually move on.                                                                     Three decades and one day she realises who she is: Susan Pevensie, mother, daughter, sister, wife, partner, friend, Queen.                                                       She is Susan Pevensie, the smart one of her group, the realistic, the kind, the gentle… She is Queen Susan of Narnia, sister of High King Peter, of King Edmund and Queen Lucy, she is Susan, the best archer in all Narnia, she is Susan a believer in Aslan and she remembers. She finally remembers.

Ok but I’ve been binge watching the Narnia movies again, after not having seen them for a long ass time, and now, being a little older and (hopefully) a little more mature than I was when I first saw them, I always feel physically sick when I see the Pevensies being children after The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe because they just aren’t anymore and I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like, to grow up as kings and queens, respected and important, and full of duty, only to go back to being 8 years old (in Lucy’s case).

They didn’t remember England, or the wardrobe, or their old lives, they were Narnians and they were pushed back, not only into a world that was bound to make them miserable, but also into bodies that couldn’t reflect what they’d been through.

Just imagine Peter, waking up in the morning, not remembering that he isn’t the Magnificent anymore, imagine him subconsciously reaching for something to trim his beard, only to remember that it isn’t there anymore, to expect old battle wounds to hurt until he realises that they can’t because he doesn’t have them.

Or Edmund, who left England a stubborn selfish little boy who only wanted his mummy back, and came back the Just, the redeemed traitor, the diplomat, the man, having to resort to being ten years old and probably not even allowed to peek at a newspaper because he’s just a child after all. He plays chess, incredibly well, he doesn’t mock his siblings anymore and all the friends he knew when he was still a boy are either irritated at his behaviour or too childish, too selfish for somebody who knows very well just what selfishness can do, who has a part of the White Witch in him, always.

Susan forgets, we all know that. She must’ve lain awake at night, remembering just what it felt like to cover pain and viciousness and gore with a smile and a blush, remembering being the Gentle, but never in war. She must’ve cried for all the lost years, for all that she learnt and that she can never forget, for all that she has accomplished, that will bring her nothing in this world that doesn’t feel like hers. So she sits down in front of a mirror, talks herself out of believing, telling herself that it wasn’t real, that it was just a dream, that this Narnia her siblings talk about is nothing but a game.
The truth is too terrifying, to devastating to face.

Lucy, little Lucy, who grew up under Mr Tumnus’ smiles and Aslan’s approving gaze, who was loved by all, who did learn how to rule, how to negotiate but who never forgot just what it means to be a queen of Narnia, this girl who matured into a woman, who had a woman’s mind and body and a queen’s grace, she who they called the Valiant, the lion’s daughter, she shrank into herself, into a child, younger than even her siblings. She remembers, clearest of them all, she is the only one who still knows Mr Tumnus’ face, still knows Aslan, but she is just a girl, a pretty little thing who will never be the queen she was, who will never be the woman she was because queenship forms a person in ways no schools can.

They must’ve been devastated when they tumbled to the floor, short and small, and there’s a war they have no control over and Lucy is small, Edmund is skinny, so skinny and Peter and Susan have lost their glow and they’ve changed, they’ve changed so much. (The first time, somebody calls them by just their names, they feel invalidated and small. And offended. They’re kings and queens, they’ve earned their titles and now they have to sit in a dim room filled with children and listen to teachers, have to allow themselves to be insignificant and nothing more than what they were when Lucy first stepped into Narnia - frightened children in the middle of a war they wish was never there in the first place)

headcanon time! so @deohsogay and i were talking and as we all know, vasquez is a giant fucking lesbian and has been out and proud since she was in high school probably and long story short, her gaydar is off the charts

so OBVIOUSLY she has alex figured out from the moment she steps into the deo. and at first she’s not sure if alex is just lowkey and private but then she realises wow alex does not know that she is in fact a giant lesbian

and this amuses vasquez to no end because alex is the gayest gay to ever gay in the history of gay, and she has absolutely no idea. and after a while it gets to vasquez and she cant hold it in anymore so their conversations go a little like this

‘vasquez i got a new motorbike!’
‘gay’
‘huh?’
‘i said yay! how exciting!’

‘vasquez i went to the movies last night and saw this one with kristen stewart in it she’s so cool i really like her’
‘lesbian’
‘what was that?’
‘thespian! you love actors!’

and when maggie shows up on the scene, you bet your ass vasquez hears all about the stupid, short, dimpled cop with shiny eyes who annoys the shit out of alex and vasquez is like oh my god she has a crush is this what it feels like to be proud of your children and she watches closely at the way alex smiles when maggie is around and she sees the way maggie looks at alex and she’s like ‘i give them three months and theyll be engaged’

‘it’s okay, vasquez i dont need back up, maggie’s coming with me’
‘you are so gay’
‘excuse me?’
‘you sure youre okay?’

ANYWAY so after this back and forth for years, FINALLY alex approaches vasquez one day and is like ‘hey susan did you know that maggie and i are dating and also i am gay’

and vasquez goes OH THANK GOD! and she pulls out this huge fucking scrapbook and it’s called DEOh So Gay: The Gaygent Danvers Story by susan vasquez and it’s literally a scrapbook made up of sneaky photos she took of alex’s gayest outfits and also written down documentation of every time alex said or did something gay and alex is blushing and also laughing because she’s so happy she’s come so far and vasquez is a good friend and also maggie loves it and it sits on their coffee table for the rest of their lives

4

Narnia character posters: the Pevensies

“Once there were four children whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy…”

(insp)

STRONGER TOGETHER

The best part of Supergirl, for me, is when women are interacting and supporting each other. I wish the writers understood that better. So on this International Women’s Day, this is a little thing to show we are stronger together

(click for better resolution)
*EDIT: reuploaded cause I like this version better. Just minor color ajustments tbh
____

Please don’t repost anywhere else :) Original Tweet

Okay but I just imagine the Pevensies going to their respective schools after Prince Caspian, and it doesn’t take the other kids long to notice something is…off about them.
There’s something rough in the edges of Peter that the worst of the other boys keep getting cut on. Something powerful and confident. He was always likable, the shining golden child that the school trots out as a perfect example to incoming students, but now he is strong, he has emerged from the countryside a leader. He stands up to bullies, he always has, but he’s more eager to get into a fight these days than to talk them down. He’s a strong hand and quick word, but there’s power to back it up this time.
There’s something in the way Susan tilts her head that makes her seem like a woman. The way she carries herself high and tall, the proud line of her shoulders as she walks down the hall that makes some lable her to high and mighty for her own good. The world doesn’t know what to do with queens, and that’s what Susan seems to be these days.
There’s something dark lurking in Edmund that makes the other boys uneasy. Something wild and untamed in the now quiet boy. He no longer gets into fights, no longer bullies or mocks the others. In fact, he’s taken to stopping fights, to pushing back against his former friends when they try to take things to far. His roomate claims he wakes screaming from nightmares sometimes, and the stillness of his presence belies the intensity of his eyes.
There’s something burning in Lucy that wasn’t before. All the teachers comment on it. There’s something loud and cheerful in the girl who used to be quiet, and she makes friends even faster than before, pulled in by her captivating orbit. She spins fantastic tales, and is scolded for having her head in the clouds. She tells her tales of magical kingdoms as if she were really there, and gets sad sometimes, as if she misses the people who were never there.

Everyone agrees that something happened to the Pevensie children in the country, but they never talk about it. The adults eventually just chalk it up to the war, and almost forget about the strange children that populatetd their classrooms, until they read about the tragedy in the paper. Then they remember. And they never forget.

the pevensie children do not look at mr & mrs pevensie and think “father, mother”. they are subject, civilian, unknown. they are threats or ambassadors or annoyances, not parents. to see the eyes of a man who knows war but only from the foot soldiers vantage and be expected to defer to him was alien. and to look at a woman who would pale at their deeds and know she saw them as nothing more than the porcelain doll expressions they held (for her sake) was worse susan cannot understand the conversations of the young infantile school girls who expect her to sit with them during lunch. they speak of things like teachers and the young boys of their class, while susan wishes for her bow. all she learns is how to fake the pretense of attention so the naive teacher (younger than her- perhaps 21) will believe she is exemplary. edmund learned that knowing too much, knowing the basics of the world, would throw him under a magnifying glass. he stayed between the shadows and the sun, letting the boys think he belonged. his father did not notice the annoyance behind edmunds eyes when he came to reprimand his youngest son. edmund bore the weight of the artificial world day by day, shrinking to fit the body of a ten year old boy. lucy found she could not see. the height of a child did not suit a queen. she knew this from experience, from her true childhood, and was learning again the disadvantages of small hands and soft arms. she had to get used to exchanging her knives for corduroy bears, and kept her tounge when she found herself addressed in the tone she saved for edmund after duels. the sun was not right here, the stars were all wrong, and she could not speak with the trees. peter’s skin was all wrong. in fact his eyes to his hair to his limbs were wrong. he’d left the body of a schoolboy behind, the day a dwarvish knife had ripped his mail and muscle. his voice was mismatched to the king he was, and he threw himself out of it with his eyes open and fists closed hoping that realigning his bones would snap himself back to himself. there was only so much a schoolboy (swordsman, wolfsbane, king, warrior) could do to protect himself from the onslaught of claustrophobia within his body