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oneawkwardwriter · 11 months ago

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Hi i love ur writing. Sorry this is long but could you do a Caspian x pevensie!reader whose susan’s twin and like he chose her over susan and like they meet in prince caspian and fall in love and he “proposes” but then she can’t come back to narnia.

BUT THEN… she goes back with E Lucy and Eustace(whose kinda her enemy in a funny way) for some reason and she’s with Caspian and it’s just them on the Dawn Treader and Lucy tells caspian how sad she’s been the year they were back.

Can it just be really angsty and fluffy at the same time🤭🤭

Sorry this is long i just love ur writing💋💋

Prove Her Wrong

pairing: Dawn Treader!King Caspian x Pevensie!fem!reader warnings: angst obviously, dw it's also fluffy, mentions of drowning (no one actually does, but it feels like it for a moment), amicable banter, pining, regretting decisions, use of y/n (I'm so sorry) summary: both you and caspian have been miserable a/n: aahh, I love this idea so much! Also, thank you for giving me an excuse to watch the movies again, really needed that. I did kind of twist the plot to make it fit better, but I hope you like it nonetheless. Sorry it took this long to write it, my schedule's been packed for the last couple of weeks, I hope the fic makes up for it. wc: 2.6k

It had all happened too fast to comprehend. One second, you're standing in your cousin's room looking at a painting. The next, you're engulfed in a massive ocean trying to keep your head above the surface.

Too busy looking for the younger children, you hadn't even noticed the change in the atmosphere. Everything had gotten a little brighter, the air more fresh, the sky more clear. But you were preoccupied trying to make it out alive as the currents tried to pull you below the surface.

"Lucy!? Edmund!?" You yell out with what little breath you had left. "Eustace!? Anyone, where are you!?"

Somewhere to your right (or left, seeing as you had no sense of direction anymore), you heard a faint voice you recognised as your younger sister calling out for you.

"Lucy!" You manage to get out as you try to swim towards her. As you come closer, you were able to make out the two boys as well.

"What happened, where are we?" Eustace calls out, arms flailing around him as he tries to keep his head above water.

You share a fleeting look with your younger brother and sister, and something in your gut tells you you know exactly where you are.

"We're back, aren't we?" Edmund asks, confirming your suspiscion. But before you can answer his question, a ship dooms up, and it was approaching you rapidly.

"Swim!" You shouted, trying to put a safe distance between you and the ship while also trying to keep the others closeby.

You heard a few loud plunges into the water, and when you turned around for a moment, you saw some of the crewmembers swimming towards you. A moment later, you felt a pair of strong hands wrap around your waist.

"It's alright, I've got you." An all too familiar voice reassures you. You turned around, only to be met with a slightly older version of the man you had been forced to leave behind the last time you had left Narnia.

"Caspian..." You say breathlessly as you look into his eyes.

"Y/n..." He responds, equally out of breathe and clearly both surprised and confused to see you here.

Together with the other crewmates, he helps you onto the ship, even Eustace who is screaming fire and demanding to back to England. Someone hands you a warm blanket, which you gladly accept and drape around your shoulders. You glance at Caspian, and for a moment your gazes lock, before he is pulled away by Edmund.

"Did you call for us?" He asks, to which Caspian shakes his head.

"No, I didn't. Not this time, at least," Caspian answers, glancing over to you once more as he does.

You're interrupted by a shrieking Eustace, who is swatting away a large mouse sitting on his chest.

"Get this filthy animal off of me!" He screeches as he scrambles backwards.

"Pretty sure that mouse is far cleaner than you are, Eustace," You say as you roll your eyes and shake your head. "It's good to see you again, Reepicheep."

"It is a delight to see you as well, Your Majesties," He responds, bowing down for a moment.

Caspian walks up to the stairs that lead to the quarterdeck and addresses the crew. "Men, behold our castaways: Edmund the Just, Lucy the Valient and Y/n the Righteous; High King and Queens of Narnia."

All the men on the ship went down on their knees and bowed deeply in respect of you. No matter how many times you had been called Queen, it always sent shivers down your spine.

Caspian led the three of you towards the King's quarters, which doubled as his study, leaving Eustace in the care of the crew, who had fainted when he had seen Tavros the minotaur. You had been given some dry clothes that fit you like a glove, although your shirt was a little big and had a vaguely familiar scent to it.

In the middle of the room, a huge map of Narnia was sprawled out across the table. You scanned over it, your finger absently tracing the coastal lines as you lightly smiled to yourself. You wouldn't admit it out loud, but you had missed being here when you were back in England.

With Peter and Susan off to America, you been left to stay at your aunt and uncle's house with your younger siblings. At first, you had thought it wildly unfair to be stuck in England whilst your older brother and twin-sister got to live with your parents across the Atlantic ocean.

Eventually, you had calmed down and accepted your fate. Most of the time, you could be found lightly fidgeting with the one possession you had been able to take back with you from your last adventure in Narnia; a simple silver ring you kept on a piece of string around your neck. It reminded you of a time where you didn't feel like the second option, a feeling that haunted you often when being compared to your twin.

"It has been three years since we won Narnia back from my uncle," Caspian explains as he points towards the map, "There is peace in the entire country now."

"And have you found yourself a Queen in those three years?" Lucy asks, making you look up from the map. She truly didn't mean any harm with the question, but Edmund lightly nudges her side and gives her a stern look.

"No," Caspian says with a light chuckle to alleviate the tension, "not one to compare with your sister..."

"Hang on," Edmund interrupts, "But if there's no wars to fight, and no one's in trouble... then why are we here?"

"That's a good question. I've been asking myself the same thing," Caspian answers. "Before I tried to take the throne back from my uncle, he went after my father's closest advisors, the seven Lords of Telmar. They fled to the Lone Islands, but no one has heard from them since."

"So you think something's happened to them?"

"Well, if it has, it's my duty to find out," Caspian says rather solemnly. He looks over at you, trying to get a read on you, but your eyes are glued to the map in front of you.

"What's east of the Lone Islands?" Lucy asks, pointing towards the map where it just says The Great Eastern Ocean.

"Unchartered waters," Drinian, the captain, answers. "Things you could barely imagine. Tales of sea serpents and worse..."

"Sea serpents?" Edmund asks, his face lighting up at the sound of something dangerous to battle against.

"Alright, Captain, that's enough of your tall tales," Caspian interrupts. "You are free to go wherever you want on this ship, it is as much yours as it is mine."

It's a silent cue for Edmund and Lucy to go with the captain and explore the ship, while you stay in the quarters, leaning against the table, your eyes still locked on the parchment. After the door shuts, Caspian speaks up once again.

"Can you at least look at me?" He asks, his voice much softer and hesitant now. "Please?"

You lightly sigh as you look up at him, your eyes instantly finding his. "I'm sorry I left," You say truthfully, even though you sound rather defeated.

"Don't apologise, I- I shouldn't have asked you to stay." This time, it's Caspian who lets his head fall and gaze upon the map. "I knew you couldn't, yet I asked you anyway. I am sorry, for putting you in that position, that was selfish."

"It's alright," You somewhat reassure him, "Aslan knows I would have been just as selfish had roles been reversed. But we can't change the past, and we mustn't let it stand in the way of our future." You take a deep breath as you take a step closer to him. "You deserve a bright future filled with happiness, Caspian. Don't let me stand in the way of that by holding onto something that can't be."

It's the right thing to say, the logical thing to say. You're from a different world, there's no way of knowing if you'll be able to stay in this one after the adventure is over. It guts you to the core to walk out of the King's quarters, it tears your heart apart, but you try to shake it off as you go out onto the main deck.

Luckily for you, you're able to take your mind off of it when you notice your cousin Eustace talking to a regular seagull.

"What on Earth are you doing talking to a bird?" You say, a somewhat smug tone laced in your voice. You're called the Righteous, not the Humble, and for good reason.

"I just assumed that-" Eustace begins, his face turning a light shade of pink.

"That just because a mouse can talk, so must a bird?" Maybe it's a coping mechanism for the shattered heart in your chest, but you let out a light chuckle. "Oh cousin, you have a lot to learn about how things work here. Good to know you can't claim to be the smartest person in every realm." You shake your head and hear a few crewmen chuckle along.

The sky gets darker as the evening falls, and the crew celebrates the your arrival with festive spirits. Sea shanties are sung, dancing goes hand in hand with a lot of laughter and a couple of bottles of liquor are brought out.

Despite the gloomy thoughts that have been haunting you for the day (and the days before that), you laugh and leap along with the crewmen. Even Eustace loosens up a little, although keeping it modest. The only one who seems unaffected by the joyious celebrations is the king, who sits on the staircase and watches the others, or rather, watches you.

At some point, he is joined by Lucy, who due to her young age can't participate in the drinking and adult activities. She sits down next to him and keeps quiet for a little while, before speaking up.

"What's bothering you, Caspian?" She asks softly. "Is it the Lords?"

"For the first time in a long time, it actually isn't, my friend," He says truthfully, letting out a sigh. "It feels like even when she is this close, she is still worlds away."

He didn't have to say your name in order for Lucy to understand. It's the same way you didn't need to mention his whenever she would find you staring mindlessly at the wall or out the window back in England. You would always have that same tragic look in your eyes while you fidgeted with the ring around your neck, no matter how hard you would try to mask it whenever Lucy got your attention.

"You know, she feels the same way right now," Lucy responds, feeling incredibly sorry for both your misery.

"She's evidently better at coping with it than I am." The words came out more bitter than intended, but Lucy couldn't really blame him.

"Out here, maybe. But back in England," She refrained from saying 'back at home', never having been able to call it home when she had missed Narnia too much. "Back in England, she was a mess. A beautiful, poised and collected mess, but crumbling down on the inside."

Caspian didn't speak up, but simply looked sorry and felt even more remorseful than he already had.

"She kept the ring, you know," Lucy continues, "Oh, she would never say it out loud, but it was obvious she regretted leaving Narnia, leaving you most of all. I'm pretty sure she would give anything to stay this time around, if you'd ask her again."

"She told me to let go of a future with her, said she didn't want to stand in the way of my happiness," Caspian argues solemnly, "Sounded a lot like she wanted to move on from all of this."

"That's what she thinks is the right thing to do, because it makes more sense," Lucy counters. "Prove to her that it isn't."

With that, she stands up from the stairs and walks out into the crowd. Turning around one last time, she says:

"Oh, and maybe do something about the beard, it might remind her of the man she fell in love with."

Caspian lightly rolls his eyes at her comment, but decides to take her up on it nonetheless when he retired to the barracks below deck. For the sake of privacy, he had given his quarters to you and Lucy to stay in while you were on the ship.

Later that night, when everyone was passed out in their beds, Caspian went onto the deck to get some fresh air, where he soon notices you, leaning on the railing while you looked up at the stars.

"Still having trouble sleeping?" He asks as he stands next to you.

"Insomnia doesn't go away so easily, it seems," You softly chuckle, having to do a double take when you notice he has shaved. "I was almost getting used to that beard, but I'm glad you shaved it off any way."

"What is it with the hostility against my facial hair?" Caspian comments as he raises an eyebrow at you. "I thought it made me look ruggedly handsome."

"Who'd you have to look ruggedly handsome for before we showed up today?" You ask in a mocking way, making you lightly snicker when Caspian takes on a defensive tone. "Oh, stop it, I was merely teasing."

"Teasing, are you now?" He asks, a mischievous glint sparking up in his eyes as he leans in just a little. "That's not very Queen-like behaviour, now is it?"

You lightly sigh, letting your head fall for a moment before you speak up. "Perhaps I've gotten a bit rusty," You note, "I haven't been a Queen for a while now, you know?"

"Oh, don't worry, it's like riding a horse," Caspian assures you, "It's not something you can unlearn, even if you don't practice anymore."

"Well, maybe it's a good thing. Might make the next time I leave more easy..."

"You're still planning on leaving after this adventure?" Caspian asks, his voice growing a little more quiet. "You can stay, you do know that, right? You did the first time, surely you can-"

"Caspian, please," You interrupt him, pushing away from the railing and taking a few steps back, "It's too difficult, you know that. I can't just leave my family behind, and I can't ask them to stay."

"You don't have to do that. I am certain there's a way for you to move freely between realms," Caspian suggests, "And if there isn't, we'll find a way. Somehow, things like this have a way of working out."

He takes a step towards you, reaching out but refraining from touching you just yet. "Besides," He continues, "Time goes by much slower there than it does here right? We can figure this out and they won't even notice you're not there."

He searches for your eyes as he takes another step towards you, a silent longing in his eyes as he does. "You don't have to come with an answer right now. Whether it's tomorrow, next week or at the very last second, I don't care as long as you're certain that whatever you choose is something you actually want, not what you think is right."

You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath. "Okay," You say after a while. Your eyes are still closed, but a small creeps up on your lips.

"Okay?" Caspian echoes, his eyes sparking up, even though he's not sure he heard you correctly.

"Yeah," You say, opening your eyes to look into his. "Okay, I'll stay. But I might change my mind if you don't come here and kiss me, because-"

Luckily, he cuts you off mid-sentence by pulling you in and effectively using his lips to shut you up. You can feel him smile against your lips, and you can't help but reciprocate the gesture while your hands run up into his hair.

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#writeblr #x reader fics #divider by saradika #oneawkwardwriter fics #come back be here #prince caspian x reader #prince caspian fic #king caspian x reader #king caspian fic #the chronicles of narnia

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eds-gryff · 6 months ago

Text

The Weight of Beauty

Edmund Pevensie x Reader

(Requested by @popsixsquish

‘Could I perhaps request some Edmund comforting an insecure reader?’

Again, very sorry it took me over a year to finally get to this! 😬)

A/N: So, this is kind of a confession- I write all my requests and x Reader one-shots with my OC, Sanya, in mind. I write her name and her country and her hair colour, and then I change it to Y/N, etc, after I finish writing.

If you would like, I have a four-part Narnia series on my Wattpad, which is Edmund x (plus-size, POC) Original Character; it is called The Alliance Series (‘Alliance’, ‘The Heirs’, ‘Moonshine’, and ‘Fairytale?’, with ‘Sultana’ as a companion AU), which you might enjoy! If you enjoyed my fics here, and if you liked the Y/N in them, you’ll love Sanya as well as her relationship with Edmund. The marriage and overall background of Edmund and Y/N in this fic are actually based off Edmund and Sanya in Alliance!

Here is the link to my Wattpad⤵

A/N2: You know, I am personally very insecure myself and I am pretty chubby, so writing this down was actually rather cathartic. I’m not madly in love with Edmund like I was when I was sixteen (when I started writing The Alliance Series, btw), but it is still quite comforting to write one of my favourite characters being so complimentary and sweet about something most people are not.

Anyway-

Y/N= Your Name, Y/C/N= Your Country's Name, Y/N/n= Your Nickname, Y/H/C= Your Hair Colour, Y/E/C= Your Eye Colour. Reader is plus-size.

Happy Reading!

---

Y/N knew she had a terrible expression on her face as she strode back to her bedchambers, and she knew it wasn’t the most fitting expression for a Queen whose main work that day had been a diplomatic excursion- but she could not help it! She was usually very good at hiding her innermost emotions, but today had simply gone too far.

“Ugh.” Was the first word- or, sound?- that left her lips as she shut- rather violently- the door of the bedchamber. She let her feet carry her to the large canopy bed that stood in the center of the room, and she immediately fell back on it, absolutely uncaring how it would mess up the hair that her maid had carefully arranged. She couldn’t care less about what she looked like in this moment.

And then she let out a hacking laugh at the irony. This whole predicament was because she cared too much about what she looked like.

After a few minutes- or perhaps hours, Y/N did not know, she was prone to dissociating from reality- she heard the door open. If it had been any other room, she would’ve sat up quickly, ready to fight if it was an intruder, but there was only one other person with the key for this room- and thus, it could only be one person to be coming in the bedchamber currently, for it was his bedroom as much as hers.

Her husband, King Edmund the Just.

“Y/N/n.” Edmund’s tone was rather humorous, and Y/N felt the urge to throw a pillow at him. “I know you are prone to sleeping in, but didn’t you have a diplomatic tour today? With- Terabinthia?”

Curse his good memory.

She made a sound that resembled Troll, but thankfully Edmund knew her well enough to know that she was simply affirming his question.

“Did the delegation not arrive? I am sorry I could not be with you,” Edmund sat down next to his wife, and smiled when she automatically held her hand out to him, which he clasped in his, “but the matter with the villagers took all day. Lucy is still there, I only had to return for a courtier needed a signature very urgently.”

Thankfully, Susan had already signed for it by the time he’d reached, and so he had made his way to his bedchambers instead, for some rest and relaxation.

“They arrived.” Y/N mumbled, eyes closed. She did feel slightly better, though, just the simple act of her husband holding her hand was a comfort. “And they left.”

“Already? Good for you, my antisocial darling.”

She felt the corners of her mouth lift despite herself.

But she said, “I made them leave.”

“Er- not a diplomatic action, that.”

“No, husband, not like that.” Though, she had done that many times before. She was absolutely not the royal who was the first choice for such missions. “They were too embarrassed, so they excused themselves after an hour. Because of me.”

The Just King’s brows furrowed, “Why were they embarrassed?”

She did not answer, but she did open her eyes. Edmund’s chocolate-brown eyes looked down at her, concern and some amusement in them, and she let out a sigh.

“Don’t you wish you were married to someone thin?”

There were not many things or people that caught Edmund off-guard, but his wife was very much an exception, as he learned more and more ever day.

As such, he could only say, “What?”

Sluggishly, the Queen sat up, “Well, you didn’t want to marry me.”

“You didn’t want to marry me, either.” Edmund pointed out immediately. Their marriage had been arranged, part of a political alliance between Narnia and Y/C/N, Y/N’s land. The bride and groom had not been pleased. “And we both loathed the state of our marriage for the first few months.”

This was true. Y/N- who had been titled the Y/N/T not long after this hated wedding- had actually taken to hiding in the Stables to avoid her husband.

Then things had changed and evolved, and they had spent time together and grown closer- and now, now she was so besotted and in love with him, she felt like one half of a couple from some dramatic romance novel.

And she was rather sure he felt the same way.

“Well, yes. But I was attracted to you from the beginning, you know. You are so beautiful, husband. If there is any human worthy of the title of the God of beauty, it is you.” Her voice was soft, and Edmund almost instinctively moved closer to her. “I may have hated you and our marriage, but the saving grace was your beauty and your respectfulness. Oh, and your freckles.”

The accent didn’t hurt, either.

He grinned, “Oh, speak on, please. I am enjoying this turn of conversation very much.”

To her surprise, she laughed out loud, “Of course you are.”

But it seemed she had spoken too soon, for at the same time, Edmund had spoken, “But I would like to finish the previous topic first. What was that about me wanting a thin spouse?”

“Um.” Y/N was regretting saying that suddenly. She was not one to bare her innermost emotions and thoughts often, unless it was in a diary. “Nothing.”

“Y/N.”

Oh, it really was serious if he was calling her by not a pet-name.

“What exactly happened with the Terabinthian delegation?”

The Queen groaned, and fell back in bed again.

“Your Majesty!” The head of the Terabinthian delegation, came over to the carriage in front of which Y/N stood. Curtseying, she spoke, “I am the Duchess of Terabinthia.”

She curtseyed as well, “The Y/N/T Queen, at your service.” While in Narnia, she preferred to use the epithet awarded to her because of her marriage to a Narnian King. If this had been her country, she’d have called herself the High Queen of Y/C/N. “Welcome to Narnia.”

“Thank you verily for making the time to meet us. We are grateful.”

“No need for gratitude, it was our honour.” Y/N said, wishing she could go home already. Why had Peter assigned her to do this? He knew she hated this- oh, that must be exactly why. She was absolutely going to bonk her brother-in-law on the head with her sword the next time they had a duel. “We are most glad you visited Narnia on your tour. And Y/C/N is next, I believe? I will make sure you have the best guide for your travel in my country.”

The Duchess bowed her head in gratitude, and her eyes widened.

“Oh, I did not know! My most heartfelt congratulations.”

Y/N blinked, “Thank you, but for what?”

Yes, she had new shoes on- not by her choice, but her most comfortable pair had actually fallen apart- but that wasn’t something to be congratulated upon.

“You are expecting! It has not been announced, as far as I know, so that must be why you are surprised.” Her face broke in a wide smile, and she did not notice as the Queen’s face withered. “You and King Edmund must be over the Moon.”

Y/N could not say anything. What could she say? That, no, she wasn’t pregnant, she was simply fat. That, no, her breasts had not grown because they would soon nurse a child, but because she had always been ample? That, no, the weight around her middle was not because there was a babe in her womb, but because she was unhealthy and unfit and always had been?

“How far are you along, Your Majesty? I imagine it must be the second trimester- Your Majesty?” The Duchess’s smile faltered. “Is everything- is all well?”

“Yes.” She had to be gracious, diplomatic. She could take off her new shoe and throw it at her, or go hide in her carriage and have a breakdown like she was a teenager again. “But I am not with child, my Duchess, my husband and I have yet to be blessed in that way. I am simply- this is simply how I am.”

The other woman’s eyes widened, and she took a nervous glance back, to the rest of the delegation, who were surely wondering what was taking so long.

“I am so- I cannot apologise enough, Your Majesty, I had no idea- I thought that, because of what you- because you are- I- forgive me.”

“Yes.” Y/N said, though she did not. It wasn’t the Duchess’s fault, she was fat, she knew, which was not common among royalty or nobility.

Still, she couldn’t help but harbour a grudge.

“Well. Shall we on?”

“Oh, I will be sending them a very strongly worded letter.” Edmund said, his face even paler than usual and his eyes burning with anger. Who in their right mind would speak to his beautiful, wonderful, courageous wife in such a way? “How dare-”

“Because it’s the truth. I am fat.” Y/N said, and looked down at herself. She was still garbed in exactly what she had been wearing then. “I can’t even tell myself that she misunderstood because I was bundled up in a cloak and shawl- I wasn’t and am not.”

It was a warm day, in summer. She’d worn a gown with cap-sleeves that the Royal Tailor had recently delivered, with intricate embroidery in an art style belonging to her homeland around the hemline, bodice, and sleeves. It was scarlet and purple and gold, and she had liked it, even loved it, but now she did not think she’d ever wear it again.

Not to mention, she was no beauty, but at least the jewels and crown distracted from the ugliness of her face.

“Y/N/n, you aren’t-”

“Oh, please. You have seen me naked enough times to know I speak the truth!”

He had seen, felt, touched the pudginess of her stomach, the curvy rolls around her sides. He’d gripped her thick thighs, he’d kissed them, and he’d slid his fingers over the dark-red stretch-marks that were present all over her body- her flabby arms, her fat thighs, her plump sides.

She squeezed her eyes shut, “I hate feeling like this. I know my weight does not equal my worth, I know it doesn’t matter that I’m ugly, and I know getting so upset is utterly stupid, but I cannot help it.”

She had felt insecure about her body for as long as she could remember. Even as a child, as one with little care for anything but her playthings, she remembered how she’d been upset when a pretty outfit gifted to her did not fit her, or when she’d preferred to wear something oversized to conceal her heaviness. Granted, no healer had ever said she, then the Princess, was overweight, simply that she was healthy and stout- but when compared to the slender, picturesque folk around her, she had felt and still felt like an elephant in silk.

“How could you not want someone thin- someone beautiful? Someone- someone who’s not me.”

Edmund felt rather at a loss. He always knew what to say, how to take charge of a conversation, how to keep the other person calm- but he felt utterly speechless in the moment. His oft-praised silver-tongue had all but disappeared.

But he knew one thing- he did not agree with his wife.

“My darling.” He lay down beside her as well, and pulled her to him, nestled in his arms. He felt a soft breath of comfort escape her lips, and he was glad. “You say you were attracted to me the moment we met?”

Y/N nodded, hiding her face in his chest, “Even more so when I heard your accent.”

He held back a laugh, and went on, “And you know how I felt when I saw you?”

She shook her head, her Y/H/C hair falling over his blue-and-grey tunic, and Edmund berated himself for never telling her this before.

“I was mesmerised.” He said softly, so softly that Y/N had to look up, her Y/E/C eyes wide. “I would say enchanted, for that would be very true, but you know I have a rather difficult past with enchantments, so let’s stick to mesmerised. I could not take my eyes off you.”

Y/N muttered something that was probably ‘because of the corset’, but her cheeks were on fire.

Admittedly, his wife’s breasts had been rather pushed up and obvious because of the corset she’d worn under her outfit during their first meeting- and, yes, Edmund had not been able to stop himself from blatantly staring for a few seconds- but he was not speaking of that.

“You were rolling your eyes as you were formally announced-”

Almost predictably, she rolled her eyes again, and her husband did laugh softly this time.

“And I remember you were holding onto your own arm, as if comforting yourself, as if reminding yourself to be strong.” He spoke, dipping his head to press a kiss to her forehead. “Just by those two actions, you had my respect and my admiration, and then your beauty had my enthrallment as well.”

“Edmund...”

“You may not be what utterly vapid folk all over the world consider to the epitome of beauty,” which he absolutely did not, “but that did not stop me from thinking you to be the goddess of my dreams.”

She pressed her body closer to his, almost instinctively, as if her very skin wanted to be nearer to him.

“A thought I still have every single day.”

Emotion sparkled in her eyes.

“Really?”

And she still doubted him. Of course.

“Yes.”

“Even though I’m fat, and lumbering, and don’t even get me started on my nose-”

He wanted to throw a pillow at her, but restrained himself to saying, “Would you do me a favour?”

“I would die and kill for you, Edmund.” Y/N gave her husband a fond look. After what he had just said- oh, she had not thought she could have loved him any more than she already had, but she did! So, so much. She wanted to kiss him already. “Yes, of course, what is it?”

Edmund’s lips curved, “Could I undress you?”

Well, she would never be saying no to that.

She nodded, far too excited yet far beyond caring about seeming pathetic- and, soon enough, Edmund’s clever fingers were undoing laces and pulling down fabric and ghosting over her bare skin.

Once she was naked, Y/N reached for her husband, to make the situation equal, but he took her hands in his instead, before she could grip and tear at his tunic.

“What?” She asked impatiently. She wasn’t insecure in front of him anymore, she hadn’t been in years, not since the first time they had made love. All she thought when she was nude around him, was that she wanted him to be that way as well. “Let me undress you already, so we can-”

“That’s not what I meant.” He said, his freckled cheeks blushing. His wife cocked her head at him, and he elaborated, “I want you to know something- see something.”

Her eyes narrowed, “If you’re going to stand me in front of the mirror to look at my bare body, I will get my sword right now and tear your limbs instead of your clothes.”

Edmund’s intentions may be noble, but there was nothing Y/N hated the sight of more than her ungainly figure in the mirror.

Except vegetable mash. Ugh.

Ah, how delightfully murderous his darling wife was. Her country and his own was lucky to have her.

“No, no.” And he lay Y/N down on their bed, her hands clasped under her breasts, and she was giving him with a quizzical look the entire time.

He climbed carefully on top of her, half-covering her body with his, and pretended he didn’t notice Y/N rolling her hips against a part of his body that was extremely fond of his wife and extremely susceptible to her- to her everything.

“I want you to know exactly how I see you- and, hopefully, one day, via you gaining some sense or via osmosis or whatever, you’ll see it, too.”

What was osmosis?

Y/N was about to ask, but her words and her breath was stolen when she felt Edmund’s kisses on the space between her breasts.

But his hands were not on her breasts, as she’d hoped- they were on her plump upper arms, and he was speaking in a whisper to the hollow of her throat, “I see these as strength. I see these as proof that you are the most skilled swordsperson I know, the strongest person I know.”

His hands wandered down her arms to the pudgy rolls of her stomach, and Y/N squirmed. She could not help but think she was glad she had missed breakfast and had yet to have lunch, otherwise she’d be even fatter.

But Edmund was not thinking about her diet, he was speaking, still in that soft, reverential tone, “You call these pudgy, you think this is fat? Even if it is, I don’t care. Because I see this as you being healthy, as a sign that you will be with me for a long, long time, that you won’t be snatched away from me by cruel disease or anything like that.”

“Never.” Y/N vowed breathlessly- she would never leave him, she would fight time itself if necessary. “We’ll always be together.”

His response was a kiss to her throat, and his hands finally reached her breasts.

She wanted to close her eyes, to revel in his touch and know no other senses- but he was looking at her, his dark twinkling eyes never wavering from her face, and she could not look away.

He squeezed them, fingers glancing over her hard nipples, and said, “Want to know what I think of these?”

Y/N could only nod, too eager and too wanton and too in love.

“Fucking sexy.”

And his mouth met hers, finally, finally, finally.

It was a passionate kiss, for there had not been a single day in their lives together they had not desired each other- but as much as there was lust, there was love. As they kissed, Edmund’s heart was soothed because Y/N’s lips were warm on his- and Y/N’s soul was comforted, because Edmund’s mouth was steady against hers. His hand grazed against her breast again, and she slid her tongue inside his mouth, and they both drew even closer together in their embrace.

One of Y/N’s hands slipped inside Edmund breeches, inside his boxers, and wrapped itself around him. Edmund gasped into his wife’s mouth as he felt her touch, and Y/N’s hips rolled against his, her hands already stroking her husband’s cock.

But all too soon, Edmund pulled away, panting.

“Too daring, darling.” He said, as breathless as she’d been minutes ago. “I was trying to make a point, not-”

“Make love?” Y/N asked, her brows raised. She was sopping, needy, and she didn’t think she’d ever loved him more. Please, please, please could he take off his clothes already? “If there is a vote between the two, husband, I will be voting the latter, just for your information.”

“Noted,” Edmund kissed her shoulder, “but I am not done.”

He drew away from her, and Y/N groaned. Sitting up between her parted legs, Edmund took a moment to look down at his wife. At the expanse of her soft skin, occasionally marked with a mole or pimple or scar. At the curves that had made her ravishing to him the first time he’d seen her, and which had continued to only grow in loveliness over the years. At the valley between her legs, at the dips in her sides as her hips flared out.

Y/N was curves and dips and valleys, and he could not help but be glad she was not thin as a lamp-post, and Edmund thought of how- to him- her body was perfect to kiss and hold and caress and love.

He smiled suddenly, “You know, sometimes when I can’t sleep, I look at you, and I try to decide which is my favourite curve on your body.”

She blinked very rapidly. That was far more romantic than counting sheep- or dragons, as she preferred.

Sometimes, in her most lovelorn moments, she would count Edmund’s freckles. She usually got too distracted by them to actually sleep, though.

“Have you- have you ever made a decision?”

Edmund shook his head, his unruly bangs falling into his eyes.

“Sometimes I think it’s this.” He ran her hand down the bend of her right side, “sometimes this-” he gripped her left thigh just above where it met her knee, “and sometimes- often, actually- your tits.”

Y/N giggled.

Edmund bent his head low then, still holding her thighs. He peppered kisses to the stretch marks painted over her thighs and her waist, and felt a tight, hot coiling inside the pit of his stomach as Y/N trembled in pleasure underneath him.

“What do those tell you?” Y/N asked, her voice a murmur. She wrapped her legs around him, locking him in place. If she could keep him here forever, she would. She felt so content, so calm in his arms- apart from the raging want to fuck him. “My stretch-marks?”

“You’re marked by the Heavens.” His voice caught, almost, and he almost shivered at the intensity of her eyes. “They resemble lightning strikes, you know? And lightning, like storms, like the rain, comes from the Heavens.”

Hm. She’d compared her stretch marks to dead worms before, because they were roughly the same shade, but beautiful rain, which covered the earth with an even more beautiful smell whenever it fell?

“How am I supposed to keep thinking of myself as ugly, if you keep saying things like that?”

It was not quite a victory, but it was close enough.

“Exactly. You’re not supposed to think of yourself as that, because you’re as far from that as I can imagine.”

Her heart thudded in her chest, and seemed to grow. They had made love so many times in- in so many ways, so many places- but she was certain that this was the most intimate moment they had ever shared.

“You can’t just kiss away all of my insecurities.” She spoke with a small laugh, as Edmund lifted his head up to gaze at her. She really wished he could, but neither of them could wholly and fully heal the pain inside each other. “Try as you might, it’s not possible.”

“Well, I’ll still keep trying.” He shrugged, and pressed a very light kiss to her clit, which made Y/N moan out loud. He would absolutely have to lavish more attention there, he decided firmly, he was as amorous as she was. “I love you. I love you, and you are the love of my life, Y/N/n, and you are beautiful.”

She pulled him down next to her again, and she nestled herself closer to him. Edmund’s arms encircled her, and she was glad to be the little spoon. She was usually very glad to be the big spoon, holding her husband in her arms, but she loved this position very much, too.

Y/N didn’t think of herself as truly beautiful, and perhaps never would; Y/N did not think of her being plump in a positive light, and perhaps never would- but in this moment, and many other moments after this, Y/N would look down at herself, and she would not recoil, she would not grimace, she would only remember her husband’s words, and she would remember her strength and her bravery and the fact that she was alive, and she would no longer be cruel to her own self.

In this moment, and in many other moments after this, there was peace- in her mind as well as his, and in their hearts and souls, which perhaps were as joined together as the Moon and the stars.

Until there came knocks on the door minutes later, and Y/N all but shoved Edmund to open it. He gave her a look, but could do nothing more- she was naked, after all, she couldn’t open the door. Drat, he really didn’t want to get up.

Regardless, he kissed her nose, which scrunched up in the most adorable manner, and got out of bed.

Ah, the struggles of Kingship.

“I’m sorry to disturb, Your Majesty, but Queen Susan asked to inform you and Queen Y/N that lunch has been laid.”

“Oh, thank you very much,” Edmund said, after a glance back at his wife, who was smiling lazily at him over the tops of her breasts. He felt a blush coming on again. “But my Queen-wife and I are both feeling a bit under the weather, and I was about to request someone to bring our meal up to our chambers. Perhaps after half an hour?”

The faun bowed, “I shall have that be done, Your Majesty, thank you very much. My well-wishes for you and Her Majesty Y/N to soon feel better.”

Edmund nodded his head at him, a gracious smile on his face- and once the faun had departed, he closed the door and returned to the bed.

He snuggled close to his wife, who wrapped her arms around him. He felt perfectly, incandescently warm, and spoke into her shoulder, “I figured you would not want to face the world again today.”

She kissed his hair, saying, “You assume right, but what about you?”

“Oh, I prefer you to the world, by leaps and bounds.”

“I love you, husband.” Y/N said simply, and he pressed a short, chaste, yet endlessly loving kiss to her lips. “Anyway, now will you take off your clothes?”

Edmund matched her smirk with his, “How about you take them off for me, Y/N/n?”

Not another insecurity was thought of again that day, and the faun had to return with their meals four times before the King and Queen finally opened the door.

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the---hermit · 15 days ago

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2024 reading wrap up

books I read (rereads in green):

Nature Human Nature And Human Difference by Justin Smith

Resurgir curated by Lorenzo Incarbone

Sandman: Overture by Neil Gaiman

The Pornographer by Restif De La Bretonne

Storie Brutte Sulla Scienza by Barbascura X

Only Dull People Are Brillian At Breakfast by Oscar Wilde

A Day Of Fallen Night by Samantha Shannon

The Ballad Of The Reading Gaol by Oscar Wilde

Notes On Camp by Susan Sontag

The Prince And The Dressmaker by Jen Wang

Oh! Il Libro Delle Meraviglie by Leo Ortolani

Dubliners by James Joyce

The Great God Pan by Arthur Machen

Il Grande Ratolik by Leo Ortolani

Emmeline Pankhurst by Mariapaola Pesce and Paola Zanghi

Babel by R.F. Kuang

Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu

Her Body And Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado

The Vampyre by John William Polidori

Passage On The Secret History Of An Irish Countess by J. Sheridan Le Fanu

The Daughtest Of Salem by Thomas Gilbert

Rita Hayworth And The Shawshank Redemption by Stephen King

Gideon The Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

The Mysterious Study Of Doctor Sex by Tamsyn Muir

Apt Pupil by Stepehn King

Harrow The Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

Nona The Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

Miti E Leggende Dei Celti by Mila Fois

A Psalm For The Wild Built by Becky Chambers

The Southern Book Club's Guide To Slaying Vampires by Grady Hendrix

Quando Muori Resta A Me by Zerocalcare

Storie Di Merda by Barbascura X

Richard II by William Shakespeare

The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien

Norse Mythology graphic novel volume 1

Norse Mythology graphic novel volume 2

A Prayer For The Crown Shy

short stories by Charlotte Perkins Gilman

Something Is Killing The Children volume 7

If We Were Villains by M.L. Rio

Life Isn't Binary by John-Meg Barker and Alex Iantaffi

Dream Hunters by Neil Gaiman

My Best Friend's Exorcism by Grady Hendrix

The Hollow Places by T. Kingfisher

L'Idea di Medioevo by Giuseppe Sergi

Due Racconti di Vampiri - shoet stories by Frederick Cowles

The Twisted Ones by T. Kingfisher

What Moves The Dead by T. Kingfisher

The Fall Of The House of Usher by Edgar Allan Poe

The White People by Arthur Machen

The Road - the graphic novel adaptation by Manu Larcenet

The Willows by Algernon Blackwood

A House With Good Bones by T. Kingfisher

What Fiests At Night by T. Kingfisher

The Spirit Bares Its Teeth by Andrew Joseph White

I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream by Harlan Ellison

Interworld by Neil Gaiman and Michael Reaves

L'Importanza di Chiamarsi Oscar Wilde by Licia Cascione and Tommaso Vitiello

Questioni di un Certo Genere by il Post

The Lord Of The Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien

Storia Degli Stati Sabaudi by Andrea Merlotti and Paola Bianchi

I Belli Hanno Rotto Il Cazzo by Barbascura X

Lolly Willowes by Sylvia Townsend Warner

This Is How You Lose The Time War by Max Gladstone and Amal El-Mohtar

Re:Dracula

The Adventures of Amina Al Sirafi by Shannon Chkraborty

Genderqueer by Maia Kobabe

The Forbidden Harbor by Stefano Turconi and Teresa Radice

Sacred Bodies by Ver

Seghe Mentali Cosmiche by Barbascura X

Costituzione by Maurizio Floravanti

Bi by Julia Shaw

Governo by Paolo Colombo

Graveyard Shift by M.L. Rio

A Babbo Morto by Zerocalcare

Fortunately, the Milk by Neil Gaiman

A Dog's Heart by Mikhail Bulgakov

the books I have dnf-ed:

The Last Man by Mary Shelly

Venerdì 12 by Leo Ortolani

The Dreamchatcher by Stephen King

Night Man by Leo Ortolani

La Donna Senz'Ombra by Hugo von Hofmannsthal

#i am really liking these graphic wrap ups storygraph is doing i should start posting them monthly!#anyway here is my entire wrap up of the year #as you can see i completly stopped posting reviews during the year and i would like to slowly implement them again but we'll see #2024 wrap up #wrap up #reading wrap up #bookblr #booklr #reading #book wrap up #books #yearly wrap up #studyblr #uniblr #productivity #journaling

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ispeacetoomuchtoaskfor · 1 year ago

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You know what the Peter & Caspian relationship tag on ao3 is pathetic I shall have to fill it with book canon content myself

do you ever get just a little annoyed because people seem to ignore the books in fanfiction or is that just me?

it was Narnia this time, i have yet to find a fanfic with more than a subtle nod to the books.

i just want Susan/Caspian with the books and Peter and Caspian being friends and Caspian having known about the Narnians still living plz just look at book canon for a moment i am B E G G I N G

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poemaseletras · 1 year ago

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ENCONTRE UM AUTOR:

Envie sugestões. Leia uma citação no modo aleatório.

Autores Desconhecidos

Adélia Prado

Adrian Tchaikovsky

Affonso Romano de Sant’anna

Alain de Botton

Albert Einstein

Aldous Huxley

Alexander Pushkin

Amanda Gorman

Anaïs Nin

Andy Warhol

Andy Wootea

Anna Quindlen

Anne Frank

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Aristóteles

Arnaldo Jabor

Arthur Schopenhauer

Augusto Cury

Ben Howard

Benjamin Alire Sáenz

Benjamin Rush

Bill Keane

Bob Dylan

Brigitte Nicole

C. JoyBell C.

C.S. Lewis

Carl Jung

Carlos Drummond de Andrade

Carlos Fuentes

Carol Ann Duffy

Carol Rifka Brunt

Carolina Maria de Jesus

Caroline Kennedy

Cassandra Clare

Cecelia Ahern

Cecília Meireles

Cesare Pavese

Charles Baudelaire

Charles Chaplin

Charlotte Nsingi

Cheryl Strayed

Clarice Lispector

Claude Debussy

Coco Chanel

Connor Franta

Coolleen Hoover

Cora Coralina

Czesław Miłosz

Dale Carnegie

David Hume

Deborah Levy

Djuna Barnes

Dmitri Shostakovich

Douglas Coupland

Dream Hampton

E. E. Cummings

E. Grin

E. Lockhart

EA Bucchianeri

Edith Wharton

Ekta Somera

Elbert Hubbard

Elizabeth Acevedo

Elizabeth Strout

Emile Coue

Emily Brontë

Ernest Hemingway

Esther Hicks

Faraaz Kazi

Farah Gabdon

Fernando Pessoa

Fiódor Dostoiévski

Florbela Espanca

Franz Kafka

Frédéric Chopin

Fredrik Backman

Friedrich Nietzsche

Galileu Galilei

Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel

George Orwell

Hafiz

Hanif Abdurraqib

Helen Oyeyemi

Henry Miller

Henry Rollins

Hilda Hilst

Iain Thomas

Immanuel Kant

Jacki Joyner-Kersee

James Baldwin

James Patterson

Jane Austen

Jean Jacques Rousseau

Jean Rhys

Jean-Paul Sartre

Jeremy Hammond

JK Rowling

João Guimarães Rosa

Joe Brock

Johannes Brahms

John Banville

John C. Maxwell

John Green

John Wooden

Jojo Moyes

Jorge Amado

José Leite Lopes

Joy Harjo

Juan Ramón Jiménez

Juansen Dizon

Katrina Mayer

Kurt Cobain

L.J. Smith

L.M. Montgomery

Leo Tolstoy

Lisa Kleypas

Lord Byron

Lord Huron

Louise Glück

Lucille Clifton

Ludwig van Beethoven

Lya Luft

Machado de Assis

Maggi Myers

Mahmoud Darwish

Manila Luzon

Manuel Bandeira

Marcel Proust

Margaret Mead

Marina Abramović

Mario Quintana

Mark Yakich

Marla de Queiroz

Martha Medeiros

Martin Luther King

Mary Oliver

Mattia

Maya Angelou

Mehdi Akhavan-Sales

Melissa Cox

Michaela Chung

Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra

Mitch Albom

N.K. Jemisin

Neal Shusterman

Neil Gaiman

Nicholas Sparks

Nietzsche

Nikita Gill

Nora Roberts

Ocean Vuong

Osho

Pablo Neruda

Patrick Rothfuss

Patti Smith

Paulo Coelho

Paulo Leminski

Perina

Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky

Phil Good

Pierre Ronsard

Platão

Poe

R.M. Drake

Raamai

Rabindranath Tagore

Rachel de Queiroz

Ralph Emerson

Raymond Chandler

René Descartes

Reyna Biddy

Richard Kadrey

Richard Wagner

Ritu Ghatourey

Roald Dahl

Robert Schumann

Roy T. Bennett

Rumi

Ruth Rendell

Sage Francis

Séneca

Sérgio Vaz

Shirley Jackson

Sigmund Freud

Simone de Beauvoir

Spike Jonze

Stars Go Dim

Steve Jobs

Stephen Chbosky

Stevie Nicks

Sumaiya

Susan Gale

Sydney J. Harris

Sylvester McNutt

Sylvia Plath

Sysanna Kaysen

Ted Chiang

Thomas Keneally

Thomas Mann

Truman Capote

Tyler Knott Gregson

Veronica Roth

Victor Hugo

Vincent van Gogh

Virgílio Ferreira

Virginia Woolf

Vladimir Nabokov

Voltaire

Wale Ayinla

Warsan Shire

William C. Hannan

William Shakespeare

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Yasmin Mogahed

Yoke Lore

Yoko Ogawa

#frases #textos #citações #livros #autores #escritores #books

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pinievsev · 11 months ago

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All That I've Done

Edmund Pevensie x GN!reader

L I S T E N T O: River - Ochman

Warnings: crying, very short, implied relationship, probably like really bad but we're getting there.

Genre: reverse comfort, fluff, angs-ish

Synopsis: Here.

A/N: When I tell you I actually screamed in joy when I saw this request I'm not even exaggerating. Tysm anon for this, hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1,022

Your surroundings were way to quiet for your liking, the atmosphere way to solemn and even breathing felt hard. You stood a few meters away from the pevensie siblings surrounded by the remains of what used to be your home.

Exactly how long had it been? You knew time went by faster in Narnia than back home but you didn't expect it to have been so long, however long it's been.

You snapped out of your thoughts by Edmund's voice calling your name, you turned your head to see him standing right in front of you. "Here, I believe these are yours" he said handing you your old weapons and clothing. You took the daggers and fabric ,that looked untouched by time, no different from when you last saw them a year ago, from him gratefully and nodded in appreciation.

You'd been walking for some time, everything seemed so different, so quiet, the once lively kingdom now only a fraction of what it used to be.

The five of you came to a halt, taken aback by the scene unfolding Infront of you, two men in foreign armour atop a small boat in the river not too far away carrying a dwarf, gagged and tied.

Susan was quick to act, aiming at them with her bow "Drop him!" She commanded and ironically enough that's exactly what they did, dropped him in the river.

One of the men readied his crossbow yet before he could even aim he was pierced by Susan's arrow while the other cowardly fled. Peter quickly jumped in the river, saving the dwarf while you helped Edmund get the boat to shore.

Lucy used her dagger to cut the dwarf's restraints. "Drop him?!" Was the first thing he said directed to Susan "is that the best you can come up with?!"

"A 'thank you' would've been appreciated" you defended hearing Edmund snort beside you.

You laughed at the dwarf's expression when he put the pieces together "You're it?! You're the kings and queens of old?!".

It took some time to get him to trust you but it worked out after a short duel against Edmund. You learned that his name was Trumpkin and that it's been over a thousand years since you disappeared.

Trumpkin told you about prince Caspian and how he was trying to help the Narnians, how he was the one that had called for you using Susan's horn.

You spent most of the time of your journey walking by Edmund, you tried starting a conversation multiple times but he looked uninterested, trapped in his own thoughts, giving you short answers and not bothering to continue after that so you simply gave up and stuck to quietly walking by his side.

It was starting to get dark, the sky turning a beautiful indigo colour, full of bright starts, the starts you would admire at every night for 15 years. You decided to set up camp in a small clearing, you'd continue your journey early at dawn.

As you sat with Lucy and Susan quietly, you noticed Edmund out of the corner of your eye, a bit further than the rest of you sitting alone on a boulder.

Using your hands to assist yourself, you stood up, slowly walking towards him. He looked sad still like he's been for the whole time you've been back. The sound of your daggers clanging together as you walked made him turn back in alarm, visibly relaxing once he saw who it was.

Not speaking a word you sat by him for a minute or two before finally turning to look at him. "What's up with you?" You asked making him turn to you with a confused expression.

"Whatever do you mean?" You rolled your eyes, knowing very well he knew what you were referring to. "You've been looking all solemn since we got here. Are you not happy to be back? What's the matter?" He shook his head and faced Infront of him "of course I'm happy to be back it's just." He paused for a moment "it's so different, too quiet, too eerie" he explained, his gaze directed to you once more.

You nodded and moved slightly closer, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder "I understand, and I completely agree with you, but we have to keep our heads up. We need to be strong for our home, I'm sure we'll fix this." You reassured him, or tried your best to.

Your expression turned from that of compassion to one of panic as you noticed the tears making their way to his eyes. "I just can't stand to see Narnia this way, after all that I've done, all that we've done. Why did we have to leave? Why didn't we stay?" He cried with a shaky voice.

You opened your arms for him and he gladly accepted the affection, wasting no time to move into your embrace and cling to you, his handa gripping the back of your shirt as he hid his face in between your neck and shoulder.

You ran a hand through his hair, the other rubbing comforting circles on his back "it's okay. Let it out" you spoke softly to the sobbing boy in your arms.

He sobbed for a good 10 minutes before letting go of you and wiping his eyes "I'm sorry." You shook your head, your hand remaining in it's position on his back. "It's okay to cry, even as a king. You have nothing to apologise for"

He smiled slightly at your words, placing his hand atop your own which had moved from his back to his shoulder as you spoke.

"Thank you. For always being there for me." You smiled and placed a quick yet soft kiss to his forehead "you can always count on me to be there whenever you need me to, I promise" without further words he returned to your embrace a content sigh leaving his lips.

Knowing his has you by his side, always there, makes him feel invincible, like nothing could ever harm him. You can and will save Narnia like you did once, together.

#fanfiction #the chronicles of narnia #narnia x reader #narnia #edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader #reverse comfort #angst #fluff

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hazbin-rewritten-666 · 5 months ago

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and here is.... the final design for Charlie Morningstar!

Charlotte M. Morningstar is the Princess of Hell, and the Heir to the Hellion Throne. She is also a nervous wreck who just wants to help her citisens, however difficult those sinners may be.

speaking voice: Alice from Disney's "Alice in Wonderland" (1951)

singing voice: Susan Sarandon

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birthday: the thirty-first of october, 1535

visible age: twenty-five

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race: nephilim; the child of a heavenly and earthly being

dae: satyr

height: 115 cm, 7 ft

weight: 95 kg, 210 lbs

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pronouns: she/her/hers

sex and gender: intersex woman

sexuality: bisexual with a preference for men

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personality: enfp (extraverted, intuitive, feeling, perceiving)

five good traits:

optimistic, always looks for the silver lining

generous, would give anything to see at least one person improve themselves

empathic, feels deeply for everyone

kind, loves to be loving

hopeful, sees potential in everyone and everything

five bad traits:

nervous, over plans for everything and worries about all outcomes

conflict avoidant, will avoid as much conflict as possible, even if it meant hurting herself

overly positive, tries to put a positive spin on things either too soon or too much

workaholic, cannot stop working to the point of loosing sleep and snacking unhealthily

bottled up, doesn't want others to think she is weak or negative, so she pushes down any fears or bothers until she reaches a breaking point

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i wanted Charlie to normally look soft and friendly, so I gave her a softer body (chubby cheeks, tummy, and thighs) and a fluffy pixie cut, but i wanted also to convey the tucked away anger and fear within her by showing pieces of her more demonic form in her claws, horns, and chaotic eyes. she was given four goat-like ears and a long, serpentine tail to show that she was more than any sinner, and rather a being far more powerful and ethereal than at first glance.

for her clothing, she has a style reminiscent of the 1960s and 1970s, as those decades were huge in the act of political and social change and their aesthetics are very warm and nostalgic.

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Charlie has been alive for a long time, so while she was growing she used that time to educate herself on many topics. She has ten Ph. D.s in Psychology, five degrees in Architecture, and five in fine arts history. Despite Charlie's clear intelligence, she isn't always the most confident in herself, often letting others use her under the guise of being kind.

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Charlie's playlist

California Dreamin' by The Mamas and The Papas

Dancing Queen by ABBA

Daydream Believer by The Monkees

Good Vibrations by The Beach Boys

Here Comes the Sun by The Beatles

I Want to Hold Your Hand by The Beatles

I Want You Back by The Jackson Five

I'm a Believer by The Monkees

Stand By Me by Ben. E. King

Sugar Sugar by The Archies

Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows by Leslie Gore

These Boots Are Made for Walkin' by Nancy Sinatra

The Twist by Chubby Checker

Twist and Shout by The Beatles

What a Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong

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taylortruther · 5 months ago

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no one asked, but here are my thoughts on the short stories in that poll, because i re-read all of them:

the lottery by shirley jackson - a classic. brutal and effective.

lamb to the slaughter by roald dahl - a satisfying little story just like a nice supper. i didn't find it super creepy, even though the act of e***** the m***** w***** is pretty creepy in itself. love roald dahl, not his best work.

the veldt by ray bradbury - the screams! i love the almost dark willy wonka-esque conflict, with this magical machine that has terrible consequences if misused (and the game is a bit rigged.) love how timeless it is.

the yellow wallpaper by charlotte perkins gilman - classic for a reason. it's incredible how the writing makes you feel sick, as if you too are stuck in this hideous yellow wallpaper.

the monsters are due on maple street by rod serling - i don't want to spoil it for anyone who hasn't seen or read it (also, is this even a "short story"? all i found was the episode and a script) but i love how this and the veldt describe the thin line between civilization and barbarity.

a jury of her peers by susan glaspell - probably my favorite of this particular set of stories. the small details, the shared glances between women. the way mrs. hale asks, "why do we know--what we know? and they don't?"... is there any stronger question to ask about misogyny?

where are you going, where have you been by joyce carol oates - unbelievably creepy, made my blood run cold when i read it. oates is a master at eerie understatement. it's like you can feel something terrible is going to happen long before it happens, and you are stuck between wanting to save her, and wanting it to be over with.

the cask of amontillado by edgar allen poe - other poe stories are creepier, but i DID enjoy the background where this was a response to a literary rival. also, the imagery of his coat of arms! this made me miss english class.

i have no mouth and i must scream by harlan ellison - okay, obviously creepy and unsettling as hell. i always thought the writing, from the narrator's pov, felt a little too "normal" considering everything that has happened to them. also hate how ellen is described. but a very good, extremely creepy story regardless. also an interesting old video game to watch on youtube.

in the penal colony by franz kafka - i hadn't read this one before, and it's funny, i saw the ending coming but in an entirely different way. the religious allegory felt obvious, but i'm still chewing on it.

the jaunt by stephen king - this has inspired many a classic creepypasta. i love how king can just reel you in and bounces back and forth between present and past, in dialogue and in narration. and this is like the perfect amount of "science" in a sci-fi story, imo. it feels legitimate, but not overwhelming in detail (they're all great at it, but king feels more technical, probably due to being the most modern writer on here.) the twist got me!

also interesting to see how many classic short stories play with the distinction between civility and barbarity (honorable mention to the most dangerous game here, especially) and the mundane cruelty of humanity (hm to all summer in a day, which was mentioned A LOT in the tags.)

#rae reads

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night-unfurls-its-splendour · 1 year ago

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Hi! I was just wondering who's your favorite phantom actor?

Can be from any Poto play, or movie, or anything really.

I'm really curious!

This and similar questions have been popping up so much for me in the last week lol

I like to be extremely specific so I will give you a few of my favourites

I have been meaning to re-examine my favourites for a while now

So my favourite overall, my number one, my blorbo, the phantom closest to my heart is always going to be Gerard Butler. Say what you want about his singing, but ain't no other phantom ever done Pleading Eyes (tm) like that man.

For stage Phantoms the one who has a hold on my mind that just will not let go is Tim Martin Gleason. I love a tall phantom. I love that in the title song he does not order Christine to sing for him, he asks her. He conveys, with his intonation, that he asks for the honour of having her sing for him. I love how expressive he is. This man made so many choices.

Vocally I think the best singer that has ever played the phantom is John Owen Jones. But I think my favourite phantom Vocally is Tomas Ambt Kofod, because he--more than ANY other Phantom I have heard, sounds like Erik. His voice is remarkable in its smoothness and delicacy, but also very powerful.

He's also so sensual and gentle. He loves to administer loving touches and caresses to his Christine.

His final lair is also devastating

The Phantom actor I think I respect most is Ethan Freeman. This man has such a dedication to this character and to the book specifically. He refused to read Phantom by Susan Kay because he didn't want an apocryphal version of the character to influence his interpretation, which he specified modeled off of Leroux's Erik, adding touches pulled directly from the novel such as kissing (or almost kissing) the hem of Christine's robe during "Stranger Than You Dreamt It", as Erik kisses the hem of her dress in the book.

Seen here in the West End in 1995 with Jill Washington:

And here, in Essen, 11 years later with Anne Görner:

It seems that over time he evolved this moment to the point that he appears to abandon the thought before he brings it close to his lips--probably thinking he's not even worthy of touching her vestments.

He's got an almost faerie-goblin quality to his interpretation. Like he's just scuttled out of the Black Forest. He also leans into the idea of Erik-as-Magician

He's not afraid to be sensual either, though.

I think the most emotional phantom is Earl Carpenter. One of the first full boots I ever watched was Earl Carpenter with Rachel Barrel. His Music of the Night changed my brain chemistry forever. The gentleness! The vulnerability! The vacillation between confidence and fragility!!

The way he would jostle Christine a little when he caught her, his face a picture of panicked concern!

Though I think his interpretation of Erik as (for want of a better word) asexual is a little wacky (considering the text), it strangely works in favour of Erik's particular brand of sensuality, and it paired particularly well with Rachel's timid and apprehensive interpretation of Christine (which I generally dislike--here, though). And his singing has only improved with maturity. The raw emotion of his All I Ask of You (Rooftop Reprise) in his 2023 run is shattering. Absolutely shattering.

My favourite feral Phantom is without a doubt Scott Davies. If you ever want to see the most unhinged "Let these freaks be together" e/c show you've ever seen you have GOT to watch Scott Davies with Meredith Braun. Ethan Freeman's got the Goblin King energy and Anthony Crivello has the Sewer Gremlin vibe, but if you ever want a Phantom with a real primal streak, you can do no better than long-standing West End understudy Scott Davies:

This guy tackled the role with a ferocity and an audacity that you don't generally find outside of Russian productions.

His Phantom hands? Oh Lordy!

And the best part is that Meredith's Christine was picking up EVERYTHING he was laying down. Her Christine is just as mad, just as feral, just as unhinged. And especially paired with such a hearty goodfellow Raoul as Matthew Cammelle--Raoul would have done well to gtfo of there. He was NOT prepared to handle this lmao.

And then there's Ted Keegan. Who for me will always be the Phantom that got away. If I had just done a little more research before--just three months into my poto obsession--booking my tickets to see phantom before it closed on Broadway, I might have had the transcendent experience of seeing Ted Keegan live. As it was, I had no idea he was even still playing the phantom, and wound up with Ben Crawford instead.

And I would be remiss if I finished this list without naming Thomas James O'Leary. Like Ethan Freeman, O'Leary leans into Erik's ghostly persona, with a magician's touch. I think he took a lot of inspiration from Lon Chaney's Phantom (note the position of his hands here).

His "Sing for me~" is one of my all time favourite line readings and got a very embarrassing reaction out of me when I first heard it.

And then, as if that wasn't enough, there was the moan.

#asks #phantom of the opera #poto #poto musical #poto 2004 #erik the phantom #gerard butler #tim martin gleason #scott davies #thomas james o'leary #ted keegan #ethan freeman #tomas ambt kofod #earl carpenter

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brainbuffering · 17 days ago

Text

See also:

Self Harm, Danger Nights, and Drugs

Drugs and Drugging Pt 2

DRUGS / DRUGGING Pt 3

Once Upon A Time by ProfessorSquirrell (T, 908 w., 1 Ch. || Family, Snippets of Life, Romance, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Implied Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending) – There is a room in Sherlock's mind palace where nothing gets deleted. And it looks like this...

Upon This Throne by ifonlynotnever (T, 1,773 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-TRF, Angst, Romance, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Introspection, Imagery, Pining Sherlock, Drug Use, Passage of Time) – Inside Sherlock's mind is a Palace. Inside the Palace are many rooms. Within the largest room is the Throne. Upon the Throne sits the King.

changing tides by simplyclockwork (M, 5,983 w., 1 Ch. || Substance Use, Drug Relapse, High Sherlock, Sherlock Falls Down Stairs / Injury, Caring John, Drugs, Oblivious John, Hurt/Comfort, Angst With Happy Ending, Acceptance, Pre-Relationship, Addiction, Starting Over, Self-Destructive Behaviour, Drugged Hallucinations, Forehead Touching, Sherlock POV) – If Sherlock were to stop to think about it, he might wonder if he’s simply lonely. He doesn’t stop to think about it.

Abhorring the Dull Routine of Existence by ardenteurophile (T, 7,963 w., 3 Ch. || Stimulants, Humour, Friendship) – Or, a Week Spent on Artificial Stimulants. Sherlock overdoses on Red Bull, much to John's dismay.

There's So Much Labour Just in Breathing Lately by Susan (E, 12,708 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF / Mentions of S3 Events, Romance, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Grieving John, Mutual Pining, Meddling Mycroft, Therapy, Ambiguous Hopeful Ending, Infidelity) – The dreams he hated most – the ones that left him a sweating, shaking mess when he woke – were the ones in which Sherlock was just Sherlock. Laughing or drinking tea. Sitting across the table from him at Angelo’s eating pasta. Trailing his open hand behind him on the way to the bedroom. “C’mon, John. I’m about to have my way with you.”

Rupert Street by WritingOutLoud (M, 27,262 w., 9 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting || Case Fic, Sexuality, Demisexual Sherlock, Drugging, Smart John, Sherlock Has Internalized Biphobia, Fluff, Angst with Happy Ending, Gay Bar, Flirting, John Manipulates Sherlock to Eat, John Deduces, Arguments, Kidnapping/Torture, Hospitalization, John Whump) – Discharged from the war with nothing but the clothes on his back and a realisation of his bisexuality, John Watson has to learn who he’s become. He can’t afford London on an army pension, but the city is the only friend he has. In an effort to understand his newfound queer identity, he heads to a bar one night, where he stumbles across a mysterious stranger who turns his life upside down. ��I dug around inside myself, and I'm not quite sure what I found, but it was beautiful and terrifying all at the same time.’

Domestic Matters by ohlooktheresabee (M, 29,404 w., 6 Ch. || Fantasy AU || First Meetings, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, BAMF Sherlock, BAMF John, Idiots in Love, Misunderstandings, Supernatural Elements, Implied / Referenced Child Abuse, Elf Sherlock, Human/Elf Politics, Emotional Abuse, Possessive Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, Buddy Greg) – All flatmates need to work out domestic matters between them - who does the dishes, who takes out the rubbish, how often does the carpet need to be vacuumed - these are part and parcel of sharing a living space together. However, when you’re an elf and your flatmate is going to be a human you just met, this rather complicates things…Very loosely inspired by 'The Elves and The Shoemaker' by The Brothers Grimm.

Lucifer's Gardens by ampersand_ch (E, 32,679 w., 12 Ch. || Romance, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Murder, Poison / Drugging, Mystery, John Undercover, Academic Club, Therapy, Rituals, Jungian Archetypes, Doctors & Physicians, Grief/Mourning, Esotericism, Hospitals, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, John Falls In Love With Another Man, Jealous Sherlock, Crying, Doctor John, Hand Holding, First Kiss/Time, Mysticism, Hugging, Touching) – John goes undercover for an investigation as a favour to Lestrade in a village in Suffolk. The events surrounding the case awaken deep-seated fears in Sherlock. While John begins to come to a realisation of what he needs in Lucifer's Gardens, Sherlock tries to find a way to reach John – in more ways than one. [TRANSLATION: GERMAN]

A Goose Quill Dipped in Venom by Polyphony (M, 52,748 w., 16 Ch. || Celebrity John AU || Alternate First Meeting, TV Host John, Supermodel Mary, Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Case Fic, First Kiss/Time, Meddling Mycroft, Drug Abuse, Doctor John, PDA, Deductions, POV Sherlock, Toplock, Sexual Tension, Angry/Rough Sex, Hopeful Ending, Asperger’s Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, is called in to a very ordinary although brutal murder. Something is badly out of tune with the whole scenario and Sherlock finds himself becoming more and more obsessed with the crime - and also with the victim.

Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets, Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love, Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.

Spare Parts by Raina_at (E, 63,497 w., 10 Ch. || 24th Century / Futurism AU || Post TRF, Pre-TRF Relationship, Case Fic, Mutual Pining, Estrangement, Reconciliation, Science Fiction, Reunion, Nightmares, Angry John, Cybernetic John, Emotional Discussions / Heart to Heart, POV John, Scars, Past Drug Use, Forehead Touching, Emotional Lovemaking, Kissing, Apologies, Kidnapping, Rescue Mission, BAMF John, Bed Sharing, Top Sherlock) – Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them. Part 1 of Realigning Gravity

Swallow the Night by ArwaMachine (E, 87,873 w., 15 Ch. || TSo3/Stag Night Fix It, TAB/S4 Divergence, Toplock, Mutual Pining, PWP, Drunk / Public Sex, Anal Fingering/Sex, Alcohol-Induced Amnesia, Everyone Knows Except Them, Emotional Love Confession, Demisexual Sherlock, Internalized Homophobia [John], Parentlock with Rosie, First Kiss, Drug Relapse, Infidelity, Texting, Masturbation, Oblivious John, Emotional Love Making, Angst with Happy Ending, Dreams and Nightmares) – “Do you know how long,” John panted, his cheek scraping against the wall, looking back at Sherlock through half-closed eyes, “I’ve wanted this?” Sherlock pressed himself against John’s back, biting at John’s ear. “Not nearly as long as I have,” he whispered.

Bakers with Benefits by Raina_at (E, 88,130 w., 14 Ch. || Great British Bake Off AU || Strangers to Lovers, Switchlock, Friends with Benefits, Mentions of Alcoholism / Past Drug Use, Banter, Flirting, Fluff, Light Angst, Semi-Public Sex, Past Sherlock/Victor, Mutual Pining, POV Sherlock, Obsessive Sherlock, John’s Bum) – Sherlock Holmes has a successful YouTube baking channel, but what he really wants is his own bakery. When an old friend sends him a call for the very first Great British Bake Off, he seizes the opportunity to finally win a sponsor for his bakery. Here's the plan: Win Bake Off, get the bakery, don't fall in love with the handsome Army doctor at the neighbouring station. Easy.

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU || BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

Drawn to Stars by Silvergirl (E, 109,272 w., 60 Ch. || S4 Compliant to TLD / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Sherlock’s Italian Adventure, Sherlock/OC and Johnlock, Jealous John, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, First Kiss/Time, Idiots in Love, 3 Part Story, Slow Burn, Inexperienced Sherlock, Bottom Sherlock, Introspection, Alternating First and Third Person POV, Separation and Reconciliation, Emotional Love Making, Love Confessions via Letters, Angst with Happy Ending) – After the Culverton Smith case Sherlock is clean, working, and looking for a romantic partner—since John has told him that’s what he needs. Shame John didn’t mention he was interested in that role himself, before Sherlock went off to Rome with a gorgeous Italian copper to try to fall in love and become a complete human being. Part 1 of the Drawn to Stars series

The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by ShirleyCarlton (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic / Meta Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Demisexual Sherlock, Holmes Family, John Whump, Gay Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Drug Addiction, Parenting, TFP is a Nightmare, Virgin Sherlock, Slow Burn, Minor Character Death, Switchlock, John’s Past, Sherlock’s Past, Eurus, Love Confessions) –Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own.

Fallen Series by Belladonna_Q, mamishka (T, 222,094 w. across 3 works || Winglock || Angel!John, Angels & Demons, Faes, Christianity, Changelings) – In a world where myth, mystery, and the supernatural flourish beneath the veneer of modern civilization, Sherlock is a master of magic as well as science and deduction. But there are some things that he cannot see, riddles he cannot unravel, even when they walk right beside him in the form of one John Watson…

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #drugs and drugging #drug fics #my fic recs

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curseofhecate · 2 years ago

Text

Doomed from the very start

Edmund Pevensie x Female!Reader

In which they didn't know who each other was, yet they still fell in love with one another.

1.4k

tw: clinche, and it's giving fairytail (or maybe it's just me).

This is set after the first movie. Both Edmund and reader are aged up. Maybe around 16 or 17.

Yesterday's masquerade ball was all everyone seemed to talk about. Maybe because it was the first one Cair Paravel had hosted in a while or maybe because it was the first one organised by the Pevensie siblings.

Most people they encountered with congratulated them. Susan took great pride in it, as she was the one who was responsible for organising every little detail. Peter, who was The High King, also took great pride in the ball's success.

Under any other circumstances, Edmund would be the first to complain about his brother's ego that only kept growing. But that wasn't the case today. The boy had barely been able to focus in anything else but her.

Last Night, at the Ball

The younger king of the two couldn't be seen, hiding in the shadows and avoiding any short of people that walked his way. From Peter, who wanted him to meet the rulers of near kingdoms and talk about, well some short of politics, to pretty princesses his age, dressed in beautiful gowns asking him to dance with them.

He preferred to keep his distance from the crowds, opting to hide in the dark corners of the room, from where he could easily see people dancing and conversing.

The soft music coming from the orchestra. the constant but subtle chatter and the occasional laughs, the clinking noises the glasses made had him feel both nervous and at ease in the same time.

He could be dancing with the prettiest girl of this entire magical world, but he didn't. Instead he sat there, leaning against the wall, watching the events of the night unfold before his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" a voice asked. The raven haired boy immediately turned his head to face a girl. Maybe it was because of the mask, black with silver details, that did a really good job at disguising her. She seemed familiar, as if he had seen her in a picture or randomly passed by her someday without realising it.

Her eyes were a beautiful shade of e/c and Edmund found himself getting lost in them. Shaking his head he snapped out of it, mentally taking notes of her appearance. Her skin tone, her h/c hair that were pulled into an elegant bun, the black dress she was wearing.

Everything about her had something magnetic, something that pulled him towards her. The boy sighed, realising he had been starring for way too long without answering her question. "I'm hiding from my brother".

The girl looked at him and smiled. "Your brother must suck then" she said. "Well, yeah sometimes" he admitted. The girl looked at him up and down, as if taking in his appearance. The young prince didn't fail to notice as a soft pink tainted his cheeks.

The girl chuckled at the sight of him blushing. "What's your name?" she asked. Edmund was surprised. No one had ever asked for his name since his crowning, it was well known that he was King Edmund the Just. "I'm Edmund" the boy answered, and for once he didn't feel like he had to pretend being someone else.

The girl shook his hand, an act unusual for girls, as most greeted him and his siblings with a curtsey and not a handshake. "What's yours?" he asked, letting go of her hand. "That's for me to know and you to find out".

"Hey, that's not fair!" the boy complained. "I told you my name so now you owe me yours".

"Is there any other way I could repay you that's not telling you my name" she asked hopefully. She knew the moment he learned her name he wouldn't want to be anywhere near her. She was no fool, she knew of the rivalry between his kingdom and hers.

The boy thought about her offer for a bit. "How about a dance then?" he asked hopefully. He wanted a chance to hold her and touch her as they swayed back and forth. He wanted to know what her touch felt like.

The girl agreed, knowing deep down that not one part of her could resist him. And even though she shouldn't, she knew she was already falling for him.

When the song ended, he took her hand and dragged her in the middle of the room. He stood there, placing a gentle hand on her waist as her arm found his shoulder.

The orchestra started to play a slower tune and they started dancing. Edmund was trying not to step on her feet, but it was clear he was failing miserably. "Sorry" he'd apologise. "I'm still not very good at this".

"It's fine" the girl would respond. "It took me years to learn how to dance properly" the girl chuckled, thinking back to the countless times she spent trying not to step on her partner’s feet.

The smile he gave her lit a flame in her heart. She was melting on the inside, and it scared her. The girl was used to being independent and confident. But something about Edmund made her feel shy and completely dependent.

By the end of the song they both had lost control over their feelings. They had fallen in love with one another, yet still pretended they didn't.

The boy smiled and let go of her waist, but still grasping her hand. He pulled her with him, walking towards the wide open French windows that lead to the balcony.

"Where are we going?" Y/n asked, a laugh escaping her lips as the boy continued to drag her. "Just follow me"

The made their way down the marble stairs that lead down to the garden. The music of the crowded room was fading with every step they took.

Making their way through trees and bushes the boy stopped in front of a fountain. It was made from white marble, a statue of Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of beauty decorating it. The sound of water flowing form under the goddess' feet was the only one that could be heard in the quiet of the night.

"It's so beautiful" the girl voiced out, amazed by the sight in front of her. "It really is" the boy agreed. Only he was talking about her.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" the girl asked softly, noticing how close her face was to his. "You are really pretty".

The boy's hand rested on her cheek as he slowly took off the mask that was hiding her face. Y/n didn't say anything, nor did she try to pull away or stop him.

The mask fell off his hands as he gazed at her now unmasked face, refusing to believe how pretty she was. How could someone be so beautiful?

There was no reason to pretend anymore. "Would it be weird if I told you I like you" the boy asked in a hushed tone. "No, I think it would be weirder if I told you I feel the same way".

The boy leaned in, lips brushing against hers. He looked into her eyes one last time before closing the distance that remained between them.

Their lips connected and time stopped for the both of them. If they could stay like this forever they would.

But they couldn't. Eventually the pulled apart, both of them struggling to breath. "This is wrong" the girl spoke. They boy' expression turned to a confused one.

"What? Why?"

"You'll learn eventually" the girl sighed before pulling him in for a second kiss. This time it was longer, full of passion and love. The girl pulled away, resting her forehead against hers.

"I have to go" she said, taking a step back.

"Wait!" the boy shouted alarmed grabbing her wrist. "Can I have one last kiss?"

The girl nodded and leaned in for a third time. This time it was more of a goodbye kiss.

The ghost of her lips still lingered over Edmund's, even when she said godbye to him before walking away. Turning back one last time the girl looked at him, as if trying to mesmerise every feature of the boy's face.

"Y/n"

Edmund just stood there, watching her walk away. Y/n. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.

Only when she was completely out of sight did he realise who she actually was and why she seemed familiar.

And in that moment he knew, they were doomed from the start.

#edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader #the chronicles of narnia #curseofhecate

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