#and I saw susan again and I was like!! oh!! she's a big big inspiration for odetta and I can't believe it took me this loooong omg

[rosenfey]

🕯️🕰️ today's addition to the best decisions I've ever made: giving odetta a black streak in her hair.

[swordofpevensie]

Kissletoe (Peter Pevensie x Reader Fic.)

my masterlist is here.

warnings: slightly(?) angst. fluff. peter is such a baby. susan, edmund and lucy try so hard. it almost turned out to be a susan fic. it is sort of a slowburn. childhood lovers to idiots. communication is the key folks.

word count: 4456

a/n: aww this is my first fic and i'm so excited and i sincerely hope you like it. this fic is inspired by 3oh!3's song kissletoe.

happy christmas to everyone who celebrates it!

and my native language is not english, so if there is any mistake, feel free to correct me.♡

•••

❝𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓

𝑰𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆��𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓𝒘𝒂𝒚

𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆.

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔

𝑼𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒐𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆

𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒖𝒕-𝒐𝒇-𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆

𝑺𝒐 𝒘𝒉𝒚 𝒅𝒐 𝑰 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒔𝒐 𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆?

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰'𝒎 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖

𝑼𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒐𝒆

𝑶𝒏 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕.❞

“Don't be so desperate.” Susan said when she entered the throne room, finding her elder brother sitting on his throne, alone. “She is coming home. She promised she would in her letter.”

“I don't know what you are talking about.” Peter said, watching his sister as she was approaching. “And I'm not desperate.”

Susan smiled as she sit on her throne. “I know you miss her. We all do. But she is coming. She always keeps her promises.”

“You know she didn't keep one promise.” Peter replied. His voice sounded sad.

“Peter,” Susan held her brother's hand. “You both were so young. You didn't understand what you were dealing with. You didn't know how serious love was and it required sacrifice. You shouldn't blame her. She thought she was doing the best for herself and we know she is happy now. Isn't it all that matters?”

“Yes...” Peter whispered. “I wish I could forget her, just like she forgot me. I wish I could be happy.”

“You don't know whether she forget you or not yet.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked as he frowned. He was confused.

“It's Christmas.” Susan said merrily. “Miracles can happen any time.” She stood up to leave, ignoring her brother saying her name.

.*･｡ﾟ ༘✧

Walking in the hall to the throne room used to make you feel like going home because you knew you'd see your boyfriend. But now, it made you feel sick, you just wanted to disappear. You didn't know how things'd be and it made you nervous. You, a great fighter, a free woman, the former general of the Narnia army, had never felt such a big stress before.

You were about to give up and go back when you heard doors opening. You saw Susan and Lucy coming out of the throne room. Susan had a beatiful, big smile on her face as she approached you. You couldn't move. After those years, seeing her felt very strange and but amazing. Susan immediately hugged you as she said your name merrily. “I've missed you so much!” She said as you hugged her back.

Then you saw Lucy. She was a beautiful young lady now and you were amazed by these sisters' beauty. They grew up, they looked gorgeous and their smiles welcomed you home.

Lucy hugged you too. You did the same. “Oh, I can't tell how much I've missed you!” She said. You smiled and said, “I've missed you both too.”

“How are you?” Susan asked. “I hope you didn't have any problems coming here.”

“I'm good. The journey was good too.”

“Aw, I'm so happy to see you here, again!” Lucy said as she hugged you again.

You smiled at her words. You felt like all the stress left your body. Seeing them again was amazing. You missed them when you were away but you never understood how much until now.

“Come,” Susan said and grabbed your hand. “Let us show you your room so that you can rest and clean yourself up.”

“Okay.” You almost whispered as Lucy grabbed your other hand and they took you to your room.

You couldn't stop yourself from looking behind, expecting him to show up but he didn't. The sadness and disappointment crushed your heart.

.*･｡ﾟ ༘✧

You did as Susan told. You cleaned yourself up, rested a bit but most importantly, tried to not think about the past. You were sitting on the bed, combing your hair now. No matter how hard you tried, your brain kept betraying you, reminding you your memories in this castle, with him.

You both were young, he was nineteen while you were eighteen back then. You were in love, you still were sure about that but you both didn't know what exactly love was or it may require sacrifices sometimes. You two were just messing around, having fun, laughing, reading, fighting, training, playing together. Hugging, kissing, touching, loving each other. Your brain made sure you remember how soft his lips were, how gentle his touches were, how beautiful his words were, how he looked at you, how he smiled at you.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You hated remembering all those beautiful and precious memories when you were the one who left him and Narnia behind and ran away.

But you were scared, you knew that and it helped you to forgive yourself a little. When Peter asked and wanted you to stay with him, you were so scared. You didn't want to be stucked in one place, no matter how beautiful it was. You thought you both were too young to make such decisions but he insisted, he loved you and didn't want to let you go. You had to escape without saying anything to be free.

When Susan wrote and told you that she invited you to the Christmas Ball, you began to wonder if he would ever forgive you or want you back. You knew how bad you broke his heart but you couldn't stop wondering tough. Or would you stay with him this time? Would you keep your promise this time?

As your thoughts choked you and you felt you were getting stressed again, the door was knocked and you were totally, and thankfully, distracted. You opened the door and saw Susan, Lucy and Edmund.

“Welcome back, Y/N.” Edmund said as he smiled at you. “We've really missed you.”

You hugged him back when he hugged you. “I've missed you too.” You replied, smiling.

‘He could at least come and say welcome.’ You thought.

“Well,” Edmund said. “I'll leave you with Susan and Lucy. I have to check the preparetions.”

“See you,” You said. He nodded and left.

“Now,” Susan spoke. “It's time to prepare you for the ball.”

“Susan-” You attempted to say but Lucy interrupted you.

“You can't stop her, just give up already.”

You laughed at her words and did as Lucy said.

Once again, you realized how much you missed and needed them.

.*･｡ﾟ ༘✧

“Everything looks perfect.” You said, looking at the ball room. “Your decoration and preparetion skills have improved.”

Susan gave you a big smile. “You are still very kind.” She said. “You've always been. Do you remember the time I cut your hair bangs and you prentended you liked them because you didn't want to break my heart?”

“I really liked them!” You said, couldn't stop smiling.

“Oh, okay now you are lying!” Susan said as she hit your arm and you both started to laugh.

“Oh, Y/N,” Susan put her head to your shoulder. “We really missed you. Everything feels perfectly complete when you are here.”

“You'll make me cry, Susan.” You said. “But I really missed all of you too. And I know I never said that before but I'm really sorry. I'm sorry that I left you without saying anything. I should've let you know or at least write a note. Also, thank you for finding me and writing to me. Thank you for forgiving me.”

“I admit that I was mad at you, we all were but as we grew up, we understood you and believe me, none of us is mad at you or blame you for leaving.” Susan kissed your cheek. “You are always welcomed in Narnia, Y/N.”

“Thank you.” There was pain in your voice and Susan noticed that. Therefore she took your hands.

“Dancing is about to start, come with me.”

She took you to the middle of the room, where Lucy and Edmund were standing and talking to Mr. and Mrs. Beaver.

“Oh, Y/N!” You heard Mrs. Beaver's merry voice. “Welcome back my dear!”

You smiled and bowed to her.

“Look at her! Sweet, beautiful and kind as always. Welcome back, honey.” Mr. Beaver spoke. Seeing them made you feel so happy.

You thanked them both.

“You look magnificent, Y/N.” Edmund said, you turned to him.

“Thank you, Ed. So do you.”

“Do you know who else looks magnificent? Peter. Peter does look magnificent.”

You frowned at his unexpected words. Edmund smiled nervously and left without saying anything.

You looked at Susan and Lucy suspiciously. Susan pretended to be talking Mr. and Mrs. Beaver while Lucy just smiled at you but knew her well enough to understand that it was a fake smile.

“Okay,” You said to yourself and took a deep breath. They were up to something but you couldn't tell what.

The music started to play and before you could do anything, you realized that Susan and Lucy were gone. You were confused. Where and why did they go? You looked around and saw them. They were in line for dancing. Lucy was holding Mr. Tumnus' hands and Susan was holding Edmund's.

You gave them one of your ‘You'll pay for that.’ looks and decided to dissappear. You never liked balls, you never liked Christmas and you never liked dancing. You really needed to dissappear.

You turned around to leave the room but a body standing in front of you made you stop.

‘No,’ You thought. ‘Please, don't be him. No.’

But the body was his, you saw his face when you lifted your head.

You used to look face to face but he was taller than you now. And his chest was wide. You realized how massive he'd become.

While you two were looking at each other, you couldn't say anything. You didn't know what to say actually.

He seemed calmer than you. His face didn't change while you felt your face was burning and your heart was beating so fast.

“Y/N,” Hearing your name from his voice after those years made you feel strange, but good. It was like no one had said your name as correctly and perfectly as he did. You wanted to hear it again. His voice felt like home. “Hi.”

“Hi,” You said but it was more like a whisper. “Your highness.” You added as you bowed.

“You don't need to call me that, you know.”

Of course you knew. He never liked to be called ‘your highness’ or ‘your majesty’ by you or any of the Narnians. He didn't like to wear his crown around you because being the High King made him very nervous. You always thought he was too young to carry such burden but despite everything, he'd always been a perfect king.

You just nodded. You couldn't find enough strength in you to talk. You were scared if you opened your mouth, your honest feelings and words would escape.

“And welcome back.” He said. His voice was distant and you hated hearing it in that tone. It used to be joyful and completely in love when you were together. He always smiled while he was talking to you. His eyes always shined while he was looking at you. But now, you were like strangers and you realized that he gave up on you and forgot you, moved on.

“Thank you.” Your voice was low.

The rising voice of the music interrupted you while you were just looking at each other.

You looked around to find an excuse to leave but everybody was busy with dancing and you and Peter were the only who didn't dance. You knew he didn't like to be in balls so you hoped he'd leave.

You realized Edmund, Lucy and Susan were looking at you two. Also Mr. Tumnus and Mr. and Mrs. Beaver. Oh no, you realized everybody was looking at you because, obviously, you and Peter weren't dancing although it was a ball and it was time to dance.

Peter saw them too. He took a deep breath.

“Shall we dance?” He asked. “They want me to dance. They know I don't like balls, therefore they always insist until I dance.”

“Okay.” was your answer because the stress inside you was increasing incredibly.

You were scared of his touch because you knew it might wake your old feelings up and you didn't want to fall for him again. You did it once and the ending was bad because of you. You didn't want to suffer again.

But to dance, he put his hand you waist, you put yours to his shoulder and your free hands found each other. Your hand was inside of his big hand. The excitement in you kept growing, you felt your knees shaking. After all those years, his effect on hadn't changed at all. Your fears came true, you realized your feelings never faded away, they were always there, buried in your heart. You just tried to hide them, not feel them, ignore them.

You looked at his face but you saw nothing. Your heart was broken because it was obvious that the dance meant nothing to him. To be honest, you wanted to cry, knowing that it is your fault.

You gulped and looked away. Meanwhile, Peter's looks were on you. They were never off you actually, since the moment he entered ball room.

He missed you every single day after you left. There was a pain that he could never get rid of. The feeling of yearning sometimes drove him crazy. You were on his mind everytime. What were you doing? Were you safe? Were you healty? Were you happy? Did you miss him too? Did you forget him? Did you move on and love somebody else?

However, now seeing you and holding you again made him realize that he'd missed you much more than he previously thought. And his feelings were still alive. It was embarassing, or pathetic like Susan said, that after all those years you were apart, and although you were the one who left him and turned him into a mess, he still loved you. But his whole heart, whole soul, whole exsitence wanted you back. Because he finally felt complete when he took your hand into his and he didn't want to lose this feeling.

Although you did your best to look at somewhere else, his looks were on you and he never looked away. All he cared about was you. All he saw was you. He'd endure this ball just to be able to hold you and see you.

His eyes started to examine your face and your whole body. You'd changed, he could tell. You'd grown up, your face seemed older and wiser. You were still beautiful though, just like he remembered. And the aura of your whole existence, that strong and captivating aura, was still there. He loved it, he'd always did. Your selection of dress didn't change either. A dark green dress, simple but impressive and elegant. It was his favorite colour and he began to wonder if you wore this dress on purpose.

But his favorite change was that although you were taller now, he was taller than you. You used to look face to face but now you had to lift your head up to look at him and he absolutely adored that.

Despite this intense feelings he had inside, he was too nervous to show them. Because he couldn't see through you. Did you still like him or were you dancing with him just to be nice? Did you forget him and move on or did dancing with him make you feel something?

“I'm surprised that you agreed to come to a Christmas ball.” He said to break the tension in the air and his nervousness. “You used to hate Christmas.”

“I still don't like it.” You answered, at the same time he made your bodies turn. “But I didn't want to turn Susan down.” And I missed you so much, you wanted to add but you didn't.

“I see.” He said as he nodded.

“You hated balls too.” You said.

“I still do. Actually I was in my room but I was informed that Edmund needed me. That's the reason why I came here but Edmund seems a bit busy, dancing with our sister.”

“If you don't dance with me, I totally understand.” You tried very hard to hide your sadness.

“No, I didn't mean to imply such thing.” He said hurriedly. “I will be honest with you, Y/N. I'm happy that you decided to come back. I'm not bothered at all. Please don't think that I don't want you here.”

“You didn't even come to see me.” You said, obviously blaming him.

“I was too nervous.” There was a little smile on his face. “I couldn't leave the room. I'm sorry if I offended you. I assure you that I didn't do it on purpose.”

“Okay,” You nodded. “It is really good to see you again, and talk with you.” You were smiling too.

“I think so too.” He said. “Susan and Lucy missed you so much.”

“What about Edmund?”

“He also did.”

“Oh, it's good to know.”

He smiled. “And I also missed you too, m'lady.”

You smiled with satisfaction. “I missed Susan and Lucy too. And Edmund. Oh, I really missed Edmund.”

“Okay, okay,” He laughed. “I deserved that.”

“You absolutelt did.” You laughed too and it felt so great to talk and laugh with him again. At least he didn't hate you like you feared. You'd be glad to have his friendship. You just didn't want to lose him.

“I might have missed you a little.”

You had to look at your feet to not step on his foot. He was such a distraction. You almost forgot how to dance because of the excitement and happiness.

“A little?” He said as if he was shocked and he raised his eyebrows. “Come on! I deserve more than that.”

“Alright, I missed you as much as you missed me.”

“Oh, in that case, it must be so much.”

He panicked when he realized what he'd just said but the smile on your face calmed him down. He didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable because of his feelings unless he got a signal from you.

“How are you?” He asked to change the topic. “I mean, have you been good? Is there any problem?”

“I'm good.” You replied, looking at his curious blue eyes. “I've been travelling, seeing new places and meeting new people. I really enjoy my life, however sometimes I wish I could share this journey with someone. But solitude has never been a big problem for me.”

“I know,” While he replied you, made you spin around and then pulled you toward himself again.

You loved how your bodies moved in harmony, as if you'd never been seperated. You never stepped on his foot, he never did a wrong move. Everything was just perfect and for the first time in your life, you enjoyed dancing.

“You liked to be left alone when you first came to Cair Paravel.”

You smiled, remembering those days.

“And I remember someone was always interrupting my solitude, was always inside of my personal space.”

“I'm sure he had his own reasons.”

The music changed and you knew it was time to change partners. You tried to step back and move away from Peter but he held your hand and waist very tight. You looked at him, feeling confused and surprised.

He then realized what he was doing and immediately let you go.

You began to feel sick again. Every word he said, every move he made and the last thing he did had an effect on you, making your nervousness and confusion grow. You needed some fresh air and to be alone.

You left the room fastly and without saying anything.

.*･｡ﾟ ༘✧

You heard the door open.

“I knew I'd find you here.”

You weren't surprised that he found you. You and him used to come here to be on your own when everything was overwhelming.

“Y/N,” He was slowly approaching to you. He put his hands to the balcony banister, just like you did. “I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

You didn't answer because you didn't know whether you were uncomfortable and upset or you felt very good and were mad at yourself because of that.

You watched the snow falling down from the sky. It was piling up on the trees which were decorated with golden and shiny balls. You were sure Lucy did all of this decoration. You'd helped her for a few times. The view was green, white and golden and you loved it, for the first time in your life. Maybe the reason was Peter, maybe you just missed Narnia too much.

“Do you remember how we used to play?” He asked with a soft voice. You knew he was anxious because he didn't get any answer from you, therefore he was trying to make you speak to see if you were angry.

“I do,” You replied. “And I also remember beating you.”

“You are mistaken, m'lady. I chose to lose to you.”

“Oh, you did?” You couldn't stop giggling. “Would you like me to remind you the truth?”

“Oh no, absolutely no.” He laughed and you felt butterflies in your stomach. “I don't want them to see their High King losing a snowball fight.”

“But you'd lose to the former general of Narnia Army. I think it wouldn't seem that bad.”

He heard the tease in your voice and it made him smile more. He loved to be able to talk to you again, like this. Playful, cheerful and totally easy going. Since your childhood and the moment you fell in love with each other, the communication between you had always been smooth. He listened you and you listened him with a beautiful smile on your face, all the time. That was one of the charasteristics of you he definitely loved.

There was, of course, so many things he loved about you, but the way you listened him, cared every single word he said and understood him was something else. He always thought you and him were so alike. You almost shared the same soul because you were very talented at empathizing with his emotions and understanding his struggles. He had never been reluctant or timid when it came to speak with you.

“Well, you may be right.” He answered you as he took a short breath to get rid of his thoughts that had been distcracting him.

“Who is the general now?”

“Oreius.”

“Oh,” You nodded. “He was an excellent warrior. It's not surprising that he is the general.”

“Yes,” He turned his hand and looked at you. “Y/N, look. I'm really sorry if I annoyed you with anything I did. I swear my intention was not to make you uncomfortable. I promised myself to be as neutral as possible. You may not like me anymore, you may have someone new in your life, or you may be bothered because of the things that happened between us. I am sincerely sorry, I really didn't want to bother you.”

“I've been on my own since the day I left Narnia.” You said. “In the way you mean.” Then you looked at thim, his blue eyes were already on you. “And it's alright, I'm sure I, too, have done things I didn't mean to.”

“Yes, yes you did. I mean, you couldn't stop looking at me throughout the dance.”

“What?” You laughed as you hit his arms jokingly. “Sir, I looked at a Christmas tree for minutes. I know I was able to stop looking at you.”

“Why don't you just admit that I look absolutely beautiful and charming tonight?”

“After all those years,” You said in a serious manner. “I realized that you, High King Peter, are not my type at all.”

“What are you talking about? I am totally your type!” His hands were pointing his face.

“No,” You shook your head. “No, not at all.”

“Oh, come on!” He objected to you but there was a smile on his face. He looked like a child who just lost a game and was objecting to the rules. “Is this a defense mechanism you use to stifle your desire to kiss me?”

You laughed at his words. “Peter, I am not kissing you.”

“But you should.” He pointed to the mistletoe which was hang up to the soffit of the balcony above you. “You know, we are under the mistletoe.”

“No, techinaclly we are-”

Everything happened too fast. He took a step back and meanwhile he held your waist and pulled you with him. You were now under the mistletoe. Before you could said anything, he kissed your lips.

You answered the kiss back. Actually, it was not your reaction, you didn't even think of kissing him back. It was your body's immediate reaction but you were glad that you were kissing him back. You missed how soft his lips were and how wonderful his kiss was.

He was the one to break the kiss. He looked at your face but you didn't let him say anything because you kissed him this time.

As your lips danced, you felt over the moon. After all those years you spent alone, despite the mistakes you made, you were rewarded. His kiss, his lips, his hands' soft touches on your cheeks, and shortly, everything about him was a gift to you. Maybe returning back to him was your Christmas gift. You met Santa when you were younger and he seemed like a man would do such thing.

“Peter,” You put your hands to his nape after breaking the kiss. “I know I broke your heart. I know I am mistaken and you have every right not to forgive me. But if you want to me stay, if you still feel the same, I want you to know that I'm willing to stay with you this time. I am ready to stay with you this time.”

His eyes shined and his blue eyes became brighter than a summer sky. A smile appeared on his face. You couldn't stop looking his lips whose color was like a fresh cherry's color now.

“My feelings have never changed.” His thumb caressed your cheek. “Y/N, of course I want you to stay with me. I want you more than anything.”

You smiled happily. “Then, I am staying.”

He kissed your lips again as he hugged your waist and lifted your body. You laughed when he spun you around.

While you two were busy with kissing and laughing, you didn't realize Susan, Lucy and Edmund watching you from the other side of the corridor. Thanks to the big glass windows of the balcony door, they'd been watching you since Peter came to talk to you.

“Yes!” Susan said merrily and excitedly.

Edmund and Lucy were just watching their big brother and smiling.

•••

hii loves! i hope you like it. please feel free to tell me what you think.

love, andrea. ♡

[setaripendragon]

I don’t know if anyone remembers my silly little Narnia fic where the Pevensie kids all get meet-cutes with their future partners, but I’ve been working on a silly little sequel ever since, and I finally finished it. So, here’s the Pevensies finally getting together (sort of) with their partners, from the partner’s PoV, because I figured t hey deserved to get a say.

Jane had crushes before. A couple of really childish ones that were more her playing at mimicking the concept before the war forced her to grow up too fast, and then a few more serious ones after her little jaunt to Neverland as puberty dug its nasty little claws in. Peter was different.

Her Peter, not Peter Pan, even though Peter Pevensie wasn’t really her Peter at all. He was her best friend, sure, and had been since the day he’d let her flatten a couple of bullies by herself before he leapt in to de-escalate the situation, but he wasn’t hers. Not like she wanted him to be. Because not only was he kind of ridiculously handsome, and just carried himself with the sort of confidence and poise that could steal anyone’s breath, but he was also just an incredibly good person.

Which, Jane had found, was kind of rare, in boys. And maybe part of that was because Peter – her Peter, not- whatever – was a lot more grown up than the other boys her age, but she didn’t think so. He could be verygrown up when he wanted to be – which was awe-inspiring in it’s own way – but even when he was being silly and playful and ridiculously childish, he was still good. He was never horrid, never unkind, not even in jest. He never looked down on her, never held back if she instigated a bit of rough-housing, but he also never pushed her too hard, or gloated when he won, or sulked when he lost.

Jane had felt strangely alone after she got back from Neverland. She’d gained a new appreciation for the joys and wonders of childhood, but she hadn’t lost her understanding of responsibility and duty. She could get along with kids and adults, but she always felt so out of place. Like she was hiding half of herself just to fit in. That, and, she’d never been particularly lady-like to begin with, and living with the Lost Boys even for a few dayshad ruined her for any sort of delicate dignity and grace, so she didn’t really fit in with the girls her own age.

Peter – not-really-her Peter – was the same as her. Too grown-up for his age, but with a strong sense of whimsy and fantasy that would have most grown-ups giving him the same odd looks Jane got. He told the best stories, and her temper never seemed to throw him, and if he was sometimes a bit overbearing, like it didn’t even occur to him that she might, possibly, have a different opinion or a better idea, he never acted like she didn’t have a right to call him out on it. When they argued – and they did, fairly regularly, even – it was never with intent to wound, just with passion and ideas spilling out too fast and too loud and too important to hold back.

Jane was pretty sure she loved him. Her mother had warned her to be careful, not to hang all her hopes on one boy when she was still so young, and Jane tried, she really did, but she honestly couldn’t imagine a better man than Peter Pevensie.

Not that there was anything happening. Because the problem was that she and Peter had been best friends for years. Peter didn’t have quite her problems with his peers, he got on well enough with the boys in their year, but it was clear – to Jane, at least – that he was also holding a little of himself back, when he was with them. Not with her. And that was good, that was great – it was amazing, quite frankly – but it was also a little bit painful.

Because, of course, they got teased. A lot. A boy and a girl spending that much time together? Everyonejust assumed they were ‘together’. And Jane got flustered, and that made her angry, and that made her even more flustered. She yelled at the other girls who wouldn’t stop asking about her ‘boooyfriend’, and she punched the boys who wouldn’t stop making lewd commentaries, and blushed ridiculously at any mention of the notion.

Peter was phased at all. ‘Hey, Pevensie, is that your girlfriend?’ was invariably answered with the sort of stern-disappointed stare that would put any parent or teacher to shameand a bland ‘Jane is my friend’. Which, of course, Jane really did appreciate, because being Peter’s friend was just about the best thing that had happened to her since Neverland. It just… would have been nice to see even a hintthat he might possibly have even once thought of her as more than that.

Still, she’d thought, they were still young, they had plenty of time. Only they didn’t. Because then Jane found out that Peter had enlisted. He was too young, technically, but Jane wasn’t surprised that that hadn’t stopped him. He was pretty big on duty – a bit too much, sometimes, but Jane really kind of loved him for that, too – and on fighting bigotry anywhere and everywhere he found it, so it really, really wasn’t a surprise.

It wasscary, though. A little bit terrifying, because he might not come back. He might go out there to fight, and he might dieinstead. That would tear her apart no matter what, but it alsomade her think that she might not have another chance to ever tell him, to ever knowif maybe…

And if there was one thing Neverland had taught Jane, it was that sometimes the amazing things didn’t happen unless you believedthey would. Sometimes you had to jump off the damn cliff and just have faith that you would fly, instead of fall. She kind of wished she had a little pixie dust right now, though, just to give her that extra boost.

Because Peter was standing in front of her, and sometime while Jane had been fretting, they’d managed to walk all the way to the god damned train station, and he was literally minutes away from leaving. He looked kind of dashing in the uniform, but he also looked – hilariously – uncomfortable. She would have expected him to look at home in it, with how he was about duty and fighting and all, but no. He kept tugging at the sleeves and shifting his shoulders and grimacing.

And she loved the stupid face he pulled when he really just wanted to stick his tongue out in disgust but won’t because he was trying to be polite. She loved his stupid face no matter what expression he was wearing, and she needed him to know thatbefore he left. Just in case.

So she grabbed him by the front of his uniform – uncaring that she was interrupting whatever his little sister was saying, because if she cared, then she wouldn’t be able to go through with it, and then she’d neverget around to it – and told him “Don’t die.” in as stern a tone as she could manage before she yanked him down as she went up on tiptoes to press her mouth against his. Thatshould get the message across.

It wasn’t, exactly, the world’s best kiss. It wasn’t exactly even a proper kiss at all. Jane just held there for a long moment, not moving, eyes scrunched shut, her lips against his, until her courage faltered, and she dropped back down onto her heels and opened her eyes to stare up at him belligerently.

Peter looked… stunned. Which was at least better than disgusted. Or pitying. His eyes were unfocused, gazing off into nothingness somewhere a little above her head, and his jaw was slightly slack, lips just a tiny bit parted. “Oh.” He said, like it was a prelude to something, only that was it, he didn’t say anything else, just kept staring, and blinking, and staring some more.

Someone – probably Lucy – tried to pretend a snicker was actually a cough, and the noise seemed to knock Peter out of his trance. He shook himself, frowning for a brief moment before his gaze refocused on Jane, and- and everything just sort of stopped. Jane’s breath turned syrupy in her lungs and the rest of the platform just faded into fuzzy nothingness, because Peter was looking at her like he was really seeingher, like he was looking at something deeper than her damned bones, and was awed by what he saw. “Oh.” He said again, this time with a whole heap more emphasis and an entire world of meaning behind it.

It sounded infinitely better than the last one, so Jane tried for a smile. Peter grinned back, and Jane felt like she could possibly just float away without any helpful pixie dust at all. He reached up, curled a hand around the side of her neck – his hand was so warm – and leaned in. Then he hesitated, tilted his head, tried again, and finally managed to fit their mouths together. It was awkward, but also really endearing, and Jane didn’t care either way, because Peter’s – herPeter, and he really was hers– lips were on hers and moving and sliding and kissing, and her entire world narrowed down to that one sensation.

“I promise I will do my very best not to die.” Peter told her as he drew back.

“You’d better.” Jane snapped, letting go of his collar to poke him in the chest. “Because if that was all I getfrom you, Pevensie, I will drag you back from the land of the dead just to kill you myself.” Peter laughed, unfazed, and kissed her again.

---

The war was over, and Jack was finally home. Or, well, sort of home. He wouldn’t really feel like he’d made it home until he was back in America, but the Kingsley estate was close enough, the site of enough childhood misadventures to count. It was close enough, and if he was being honest with himself, he was putting off his return to the States, just a little. He could have been through the mirror and back home in a trice, without having to worry about boats or planes or travel time, but instead he was lingering about in London.

He made up excuse after excuse as to why he was staying, but the truth was, he was still hoping that he might run into Susan again. It was stupid, he knewit was stupid, she was a beautiful, clever, gentlewoman, and there was absolutely no guarantee that she’d even rememberhim, even if he did manage to find her again.

Everyone he’d asked from the pub where they’d met knew her, knew ofher, but no one knew any more about her than Jack did. Not even her last name. It was depressing, and made Jack feel like a stalker, so he’d stopped asking about her. He did not leave London, though, stupid hopeless romantic that he was.

Dwelling on it was even more stupid, he thought as he made his way back from a grocery run for Sunday lunch tomorrow that Lynn had forced him to go on to get him out of her hair for a while. He was being a pest, he should just go home, but the Underlandian in him insisted that home was where the heart was, and right now, his heart still hadn’t managed to let go of Susan.

Jack stopped dead on the sidewalk, staring, because there was no way- He was seeing things because he’d been thinking about her too much. Susan, walking with a younger girl at her side and arguing good naturedly with one of the boys a little ahead of them. “Susan?!” Jack called out before he could help himself, and jogged across the street towards her.

She looked up, eyes going wide with shock on spotting him. She looked so painfully youngin that moment, almost frightened, that Jack slowed uncertainly before he’d even reached her. Still, he pulled his most charming grin on, the one that she’d never been fooled by, but had seemed amused by, nonetheless, and swept her a gallant bow like he would if he unexpectedly ran into Lilibeth. “Jack.” Susan greeted, and that was definitely not the open, pleased greeting he’d been hoping for. She sounded reserved, wary, and worst of all, uncertain.

Jack let his smile dim a bit, and told himself it was ridiculous to feel disappointed. It wasn’t as if they had anything more than one evening of interesting conversation. But it had been the most genuineconversation Jack had managed in years, it had been so Underlandian, like a breath of fresh air in amongst the choking smog of the war.

“Su? Who’s this?” One of the boys asked, frowning at him.

“This is Sergeant Jack Manchester.” Susan introduced. “Jack, these are my brothers and sister, Peter, Edmund, and Lucy.”

Jack offered his hand to Peter, then to Edmund, and then to Lucy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” He said sincerely, and then returned his attention to Susan. “I was hoping I’d run into you again, maybe get your permission to buy you a drink, this time?” He asked, and it came out a little tentative, because she still didn’t look nearly as at ease as she had when they’d first met.

“You mean you didn’task permission the first time?” Peter demanded, glowering.

Definitely a big brother, that one, Jack thought with a grin. “I asked forgiveness, instead.” He replied cheerfully.

“Oh, thatJack.” Lucy said wickedly. “I should have known when you bowed.” She added, nudging Susan, who was going ever so slightly pink. “Mum went ballisticwhen she heard Susan talking about you, you know.”

Jack blinked. Would parental disapproval account for how wary Susan seemed right now? Not that he could imagine whythey wouldn’t like him, unless they were some of the people who hated Americans. He could whip out his ‘noble’ English lineage if that would help. “I’m not that scruffy, am I?” He asked, playfully looking down at himself as if checking for dirt or mis-buttoned clothes, and then peeking back up at Susan, looking for a proper answer.

“Not at all.” Susan assured him, and therewas that bright, sharp lady he’d met last time. She was trying to hide her smile, and the appreciative look she cast him, but she wasn’t trying that hard, and it made Jack beam at her in hope that maybe he hadn’t blown this before there even wasa ‘this’.

“No, I think she was more upset about your age.” Edmund interjected, earning himself a truly fierce glare from Susan. He smiled back innocently.

Jack blinked again. “My… age?” He asked. “I’m only twenty-eight.” He pointed out, cautious and bewildered. Susan might be a little younger than him, but not by more than four or five years. He’d thought as much in the pub, particularly when she laughed, that she was maybeon the wrong side of twenty, but he doubted it. Only, he realised, looking at her now, that she stilllooked like she was maybe on the wrong side of twenty.

Susan wasn’t quite meeting his gaze, and she looked… unhappy. Lips pressed into a thin line, and expression carefully neutral in a way that Jack didn’t believe for an instant. “Ten years.” Edmund murmured thoughtfully. “That’s not quite as bad as Mum was afraid of, I think.”

Ten years. That meant that when Jack had met her, when Jack had teased and flirted and fallen just a little bit in love with her, Susan had been fifteen. It made him feel dizzy. After all, he’d started fights with the sort of creeps who would leer after his little sister that way, and Susan was the same age as Ruth.

That brought Jack’s train of thought to a screeching halt. Because trying to put Susan and Ruth next to each other and thinking of them as the same age just… didn’t seem to want to workin his mind. Susan had notbehaved like a fifteen year old in that pub. Not even a little bit. He wondered, giving Susan a slightly closer look, just how old she’d be on the other side of a mirror.

“At least I’m not as bad as Great-Uncle Tarrant.” Jack said, and then snorted, because, wow, that was an understatement, even if it was hard to gauge the exact age difference when some days he was actually younger than Great-Aunt Alice.

“How bad is Great-Uncle Tarrant?” Lucy asked curiously.

It was a bit of a struggle to do the maths. Underland didn’t really agreewith things like maths. “I’m pretty sure that, chronologically, Great-Aunt Alice is more than twenty years younger than him.” Jack answered, because that was as exact as he could get, and then he brightened as an absolutely brilliant idea occurred to him. “If you wanted, you could come meet them? We’re doing Sunday roast tomorrow, and the whole family’ll be there.” He offered to Susan, who looked just as shocked as she had when he’d called out to her earlier.

“You want me to meet your family?” Susan asked cautiously.

Jack nodded, smiling warmly. “I think they’d love you.” He told her, entirely honestly, and didn’t add the follow up that was sitting on the tip of his tongue; I think I could love you, my gentle queen.

“That sounds like a great idea.” Peter said, which startled Jack a little, since Peter didn’t seem to like him very much. The clap on the shoulder Peter then gave him was a little too rough to be called friendly. “We’ll be there.”

Ah, Jack thought, amused. Not letting his sister go off with a strange man into foreign territory alone, that’swhat that was about. “The more the merrier.” Jack assured him, and only realised just how right he’d been to say it when Peter wasn’t the only one who relaxed. Besides, it was true. If he was bringing Susan, then a good portion of the guest list from Underland probably shouldn’t come, and that meant that Lynn was going to make far too much food for just the ordinary human-like people. Three more mouths to feed would barely make a dent.

He gave them his address, promised them again that everyone would be delighted to meet them, bowed again to Susan and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand in farewell, and jogged off home with a spring in his step that hadn’t been there before.

---

Tavan was finding it increasingly hard to sit still. Lynn reached across the table and put her hand over his, and it was only then that he realised he’d been fiddling with his cuff to the point of fraying it. Sheepishly, he tucked his hands out of sight under the table, and Lynn rolled her eyes at him. “I don’t know why you’re fretting so, Tavan. Edmund’s already proven he’s not going to baulk at a bit of Underlandish magic.” She pointed out, going back to doing the household accounts.

Edmund had done a lot more than that, Tavan thought. Edmund had proven to be brilliantly sharp-witted, curious, and adaptable. Tavan didn’t think he’d ever once heard the phrase ‘but that’s not how that works’ or any of the derivatives from him, and he’d thought up as many of the more shocking things about Underland that he could, just to make sure. Edmund had figured him out in a hot second, of course, because Edmund was brilliant, but he hadn’t been upset. He just looked sneakily amused in that way he had, and asked drolly if he’d passed the test.

Tavan had kissed him.

It was only after, when Edmund had crawled into his lap and quite thoroughly marked up his neck, and rumpled his shirt, that Tavan remembered that he was in Upland, and the belated panic hit. Edmund had taken one look at his poleaxed expression, and said, in a fond murmur; “You’re fine. I don’t think bigotry is the natural order of things, either.”

Tavan had beamed at him. “Yeah, ye passed the test.”

So now, Edmund had an invitation to Underland. Which would be fine, it would be great. Except. Except Tavan had thought he’d be taking Edmund to see Iplam, to see the flower fields and show him Tavan’s study. Maybe to meet Grandma. And sure, Grandma was scary, but she was still family. He hadn’t counted on Her Majesty The White Queen insisting, all wide-eyed innocence, that Edmund “simply mustcome to Marmoreal and meet the wholefamily.”

Which meant that Edmund was going to be subject to meeting the Queen of Underland on his very first trip there. And, yes, Queen Lilibeth was like an aunt to Tavan, but that didn’t change the fact that she was the very literal heart and soul of the land, and that was intimidating no matter how sweet and gentle she, of course, was.

The doorbell rang, and Tavan jumped to his feet, nearly knocking the chair over in his haste, and rushed to get the door. Edmund was, as always, a lovely sight, and his shy, sly little smile as he stepped over the threshold was as charming as ever. He was unfailingly polite to Lynn, and if Tavan didn’t know him, he would never have been able to tell that Edmund was actually quite eager to get on with things, he was so cordial and patient.

Still, he did know better. Quite a lot better, actually, so he gave his cousin an apologetic grin and said; “So sorry tae rush off, Lynn, but we’ve an appointment we just cannae be late for.” while dragging Edmund not too subtly towards the stairs. Edmund laughed, and Lynn waved them off with a roll of her eyes, calling after them that Lilibeth would never be so crass as to be impatient.

Which was true, but still, her disappointment if you caused her to considersomething as uncharitable as impatience could be crushing. “Lilibeth?” Edmund questioned as they made for the spare room.

“Ah…” Tavan grimaced. “The White Queen.”

Edmund flinched perceptibly, and Tavan faltered a little, concerned. “Sorry. Bad memories. Why is she the WhiteQueen?” He asked cautiously.

“Tha’d be because she’s the moral center o’ Underland. White for purity, open-mindedness, compassion.” Tavan replied thoughtfully, and then looked at Edmund again, checking on him, because his reaction had been unusual, to say the least.

Edmund was nodding, though, expression the same intense curiosity he always got about all things Underlandish. “Some cultures associate white with death and winter.” He pointed out.

Tavan laughed a little. “Well, don’t tell Lily that. Not that the Queen can be anything but hospitable tae any o’ the seasons, but I think she might do something un-queen-like if you suggested she was supposed tae represent winter. She loves her roses far too much for that.”

Edmund relaxed properly at that, and just in time, too, because they’d reached the mirror, and Tavan paused to take a bracing breath before stepping through. Lilibeth, of course, hadn’t listened to a single word of Tavan’s request for a modicum of privacy, and had invited what looked like half the court to come meet Tavan Hightopp’s beloved.

Exasperated, but not surprised, Tavan turned back and stuck his head and one arm through the mirror, holding out a hand in invitation. Edmund grinned as he took Tavan’s hand and allowed him to pull him gently through the mirror. But as he passed through the rippling surface, something strange happened. Edmund Pevensie stepped into the mirror, but the man who stepped out on the other side into the White Queen’s court was no London school boy.

Edmund was almost as tall as Tavan, now, with a touch of dark stubble over his jaw and a silver circlet gleaming in his dark hair. His clothes, too, were different. They looked like they belonged here, a fine tunic with a crest in the shape of a lion on his breast, and leather breeches tucked into high boots, and a sword on his hip that his other hand fell to perfectly naturally.

Tavan quite lost his breath at the sight of him.

Edmund’s breath caught a beat later, and he looked down at himself, even as his free hand left his sword to touch cautiously at the circlet – the crown, it was definitely a crown– on his head, and then ghost down over the corner of his jaw. And then he smiled, so beatifically that Tavan’s breath caught all over again, and he actually felt a little weak-kneed when Edmund turned that smile on him and offered him his arm. He took it, of course, and subtly guided Edmund over to where Lilibeth was rising to her feet. The crowd of familiar faces parted before them like they never would have if it had just been Tavan. Or if it had been Tavan and Edmund as he’d looked on the other side of the looking glass.

Lilibeth rose to the occasion magnificently, despite the confusion, and was all smiles as she greeted Edmund. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of a properintroduction.” She lilted curiously.

“Your Majesty.” Edmund greeted, inclining his head respectfully, but notably notbowing. “It seems I am, once again, King Edmund the Just, of Narnia.”

---

Benji loved it when Lucy came to stay at Pemberley. Somehow, she lit the place up, and made everything that was familiar to him new and exciting again. She ran barefoot through the woods and taunted him into going skinny-dipping in the lake with her and taught him new dances under the watchful gazes of his ancestor’s portraits in the gallery.

She never stayed for long. That wasn’t her way, and Benji didn’t mind. Sometimes, he went with her when she left, whether that was travelling to far-flung places to meet new people and learn new languages, or to meetings and charities and projects closer to home, watching her throw her considerable will against any and all problems she came across, but sometimes he didn’t. And they both liked it like that.

That, Benji thought, was the thing he loved best about Lucy. Loving her was never a trap, never a cage, never a duty. She was a wild thing and she would not be tamed, and in turn, never once tried to tame him, and never asked for more than he could give.

He got a little caught up in it, caught up in herand her way of life, riding the high of being known, so clearly and effortlessly, by someone who shared his feelings and values. Which is why it came as a complete shock to him when, on the first evening of Lucy’s third stay at Pemberley, when his father leaned forwards a little and said; “I’ve been meaning to ask you, Benji, what the hold up is.”

“With what?” Benji asked.

“The engagement, of course!” Father replied, and reality crashed back onto Benji with a feeling like being submerged in ice-water. At his elbow, Lucy went suddenly still. An alarming thing, given she was usually always so full of movement.

“What engagement?” Benji asked, half genuinely bewildered, although he had a creeping sense that his family had gotten the wrong idea, because they never had understood when he tried to explain what it was about the girls he stepped out with that put him off so badly every time, and half stalling for time.

“Benji, darling, please.” Mother said, fondly exasperated. “You haven’t exactly been subtle.”

“Don’t mistake us, we’re very happy you’ve found someone!” Father added. “But your mother is right, you’ve been very obvious about how much you like Miss Pevensie.” His lips pursed with something that was half way between amusement and disapproval. “A little tooobvious, sometimes. You’d better hurry up and make an honest woman out of her, or people will begin to gossip.”

“I beg your pardon,” Lucy said, before Benji could shake the feeling of a noose tightening around his neck and find the breath to speak for himself, “but I’m afraid you’ve all got rather the wrong idea.” She said it in her High Society Voice, which was a sure sign she was sharpening her metaphorical claws. “I’ve no intent to marry. At all. Ever.”

“You’re young yet, my dear.” Mother said, looking a little concerned. “I know marriage can seem intimidating. Lord knows you and Benji are very alike in that regard, but it’s a wonderful thing to find the right person to support you through life.” She shared a loving look with Father. “You shouldn’t let something like that, with someone who understands you, pass you by just because you’re nervous.”

Lucy closed her eyes for a moment. Benji suspected she was praying for patience. “I’m not letting anything pass me by.” She said sharply, a flash of fire in her eyes as she opened them again, the smile on her lips a challenge more than any sort of expression of happiness. “I appreciate having Benji in my life very much.”

Father chuckled, while Mother went a little pink at the rather salacious tone Lucy said the last two words in. Joan snorted, derisive, drawing everyone’s attention. It was a very unkind sound, and Benji startled, because he’d thought Joan and Lucy got on. They were of a similar age, and a similar temperament, and had had many a passionate argument about one subject or another, sparring with ideas in a way that Benji was entirely unsuited for. “He’s not the only person you’ve been appreciating, though, is he?” She asked pointedly.

The whole table went still. Benji’s other two sisters turned to stare at Lucy, suddenly resembling nothing so much as hyenas staring down prey. But Lucy couldn’t be preyif she tried, and met the sudden threatening stares with a complete lack of shame. In fact, her chin kicked up a little in stubborn, fierce pride. Benji almost smiled to see it, but the flicker of admiration was quickly dampened by the thick tension in the air. “Joan?” He asked carefully. “What’s this about?”

“You didn’t tell him?” She asked of Lucy. “You swore to me you would.”

Lucy raised her eyebrows, then smiled. “Benji?” She called, and Benji hummed an acknowledgement, wary of opening his mouth again lest he be talked over. Again. “Joan walked in on me kissing Viscount Cranbrook’s son at that wedding last weekend.”

Benji blinked, startled by that reminder and a little uncomfortable at having such things discussed at the dinner table, with all his family sitting nearby. Then, he began to realise why Joan was looking so very upset. Why everyonewas looking so very upset, actually. “Yes?” He said, deliberately playing obtuse. “You already told me about that.” He paused to smile faintly. “In vivid detail.”

Joan dropped her fork. Father choked on his wine.

“Benjamin Percival Fitzwilliam Darcy!” Mother snapped, putting her own wine glass down with a very inelegant thump. “Such things are notappropriate dinner conversation!”

Benji felt veryindignant about being scolded for something that wasn’t his fault. At all. “Why am Igetting scolded? Joanie’s the one who brought it up!” He paused, feeling a little guilty, because Joan had been trying to be a good sister, to protect him, even if she had been making assumptions., and it felt a little unfair to throw her under the bus after that. So before Mother could start scolding again, he turned to his sister. “Thanks for worrying about me, though, but it really is fine. Lucy did tell me what she was about. She always does.”

There was another one of those stunned silences. Benji was really getting tired of them, and this time he couldn’t even tell what had prompted it. “You mean she’s done this before?” Joan demanded, sounding more bewildered than scandalised, which at least cleared that up.

“Yes?” Benji offered, looking around the table. Everyone else looked significantly more scandalised, and a bit insulted, whether that was on his behalf or the family’s, he couldn’t tell, and it made him feel a stranger in his own home all of a sudden. “Why are you all so damn surprised?” He blurted out. “I told youhow trapped it all makes me feel, with girls who are all thinking of marriageand one and onlyand forever. I can’t even tell what I my favourite foodis going to be on any given day, never mind who my favourite personis going to end up being next year, or the year after that!”

Joan was the only one who had the decency to look a little shame-faced. The others just looked vaguely appalled.

Except Lucy, of course. Who washis favourite person, and might even stay that way for the rest of his life. But still, the idea of trapping her in that role, of binding her to him and him to her in any way more than a simple question asked every day they happened to be together – ‘do you want?’ with no demand upon the answer being yes – was abhorrent.

Lucy just giggled, and reached out to lace their fingers together. “Why not everyperson?” She suggested cheerfully.

“I haven’t met every person.” Benji pointed out as solemnly as he was able, with his lips persistently trying to twitch up into a smile.

“Yet.” Lucy countered brightly. “And on that subject!” She declared enthusiastically, banishing the weight of the previous conversation and his family’s judgement as easily as a spring breeze scattering morning mists. “I was thinking about going to help the relief efforts in Morocco, and I thought you might like to come this time?”

[fullmoonremus]

Everdream | Edmund Pevensie x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, making out, alluding to smut

Time/Era: The Golden Age

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Y/N and Edmund go on a late-night horse ride to stargaze.

A/N: This is inspired by the song “Everdream” by Epic Soul Factory. (You can listen to it here.)  I really love this song (you should listen to it! It’s an amazing piece!) and I really wanted to write something that hopefully followed the vibe. Please send feedback and maybe a request while you’re at it!

masterlist | read on ao3

Cair Paravel was beautiful at twilight. Bright oranges and reds blended with the cool blue of the night to stain the sky with magnificent colors. The warm and cool tones weaved together to make a deep green barrier between the passing day and incoming night. It was absolutely stunning in Y/N’s eyes, which is why she always made it a point to be outside at this time. She loved to admire how the final rays of the sun reflected off of the white stone walls and how the warm evening air grew crisp. Everything and everyone around her starts to grow calm and time seems to pass differently. 

Her favorite place to soak in the atmosphere was a stone wall just right of a large garden. Here, she could look out at the water and watch the sun disappear behind the towering trees. Here, she can watch the colors dance upon the sails of massive ships like projectors and feel the brisk air flow around her. Sure the stone was bumpy, jagged, and sharp in some places and she had ripped many of her gowns because of it, but this was her spot. And her spot was where she liked to be. 

Sometimes, one of the royal family would join her in her silence. Lucy would come when she was feeling happy; she loved Y/N’s company and liked to admire the sky. Occasionally, she would break the silence to point out a star that was just starting to appear, or a rabbit that was rushing by. Overall, she was a bottle of warm and inviting energy. She was always welcome with Y/N on her wall. Susan would come whenever she wanted to talk. She knew Y/N would listen. Her brothers and younger sister tended to interrupt her before she could fully explain herself, so Y/N’s continued silence was like a breath of fresh air. Peter would come whenever he had a stressful day, or whenever he knew a tough time was to come. He would just sit next to Y/N on the wall as if he was meditating. If he wanted to talk, he could but if he didn’t, he wasn’t pushed to. Y/N was nice company and the silence was always comforting right before bed. Edmund would come whenever he wanted to, which was more often than his siblings. He and Y/N had been an item for almost three years, so it sort of counted as a date. The two knew that they didn’t need anything flashy; just being together was more than enough. He always waited a little while, though, to make sure his siblings weren’t planning on joining his girl on the wall. Edmund knew that if they were there, they needed her and who was he to come in between that? Sometimes, Y/N would be alone with her thoughts. 

Edmund sat silently next to her, looking out over the water. He had rid himself of his armor and crown, so his loose clothes and messy hair swayed in the breeze. His feet dangled freely, while her’s were crossed at the ankles. 

“There’s going to be a full moon tonight,” Y/N’s voice was soft as she glanced over at Edmund. The shadows on his face shifted as he met her gaze. Y/N observed it. It seemed to contour his jaw, making his features look sharp and as if he was sculpted from marble. Ed always looked great at twilight, Y/N thought. 

“Yeah?” He leaned back ever so slightly, his weight being supported by either hand gripping the wall. “That means it’ll be bright enough to see without a torch.” 

“I was thinking maybe we could go for a ride,��� Y/N turned her attention to a large Naval ship floating directly in the middle of the bay. “Unless you need to rest for tomorrow. Big meeting right? We can just go to bed instead.”

“The meeting isn’t really important, and besides, Pete does most of the work anyway.” 

Ed had grown extremely nonchalant about meetings since the four had landed in Narnia. When he was younger, he used to stress about it for days beforehand. I guess when you sit through so many meetings about the same thing, the anxiety turns into familiarity. 

“Whatever you say, oh magnificent one.” Y/N pushes herself off of the wall flattens her skirt out. “Oh wait, my bad, that’s Peter.”

Edmund frowns, “I can be magnificent too, love.” He follows her off of the wall and takes her hand in his. 

~

The forest was quiet at this time of night so the sound of hooves on the dry dirt was easy to hear. Y/N trailed Edmund, staring at his back. The thin material of his renaissance Romeo style shirt allowed his shoulder blades and back muscles to be on full display. They moved every time he pulled on the rein. At one point during the ride, he turned around and caught Y/N admiring him. His smile became cocky once he saw the look in her eye. 

“I can practically feel your eyes burning a hole in my back, Y/N.” He laughs, twisting his body back to face the front. 

“Well, where else am I supposed to look? I don’t know where we’re going!!” Y/N’s voice came out as more of a whine than a defense, making Edmund laugh. 

“Well, lucky for you, we’re almost there.” 

Edmund leads Y/N into a small clearing and swings his leg over his horse. The circle was made up of around ten trees and a plush carpet of grass. It wasn’t much, but it had the most gorgeous view of millions of stars above. The stars were twinkling and a few planets were visible. Y/N stared upwards, trying to absorb all of the beauty. 

“Tada, I found this last week when I was riding and I thought of you.” Edmund planted himself on the ground, leaning against a tree. “I thought we could stargaze and talk. We haven’t been able to talk a lot lately.”

Y/N slid into his open arms and laid a hand on his chest. “I know, it’s not your fault your busy. It’s no one’s fault. You’re king.” She feels him sigh underneath her. 

“I know, I know, it still makes me feel guilty though. I feel as though I haven’t been able to put as much time into our relationship as I should.” He takes a strand of Y/N’s hair between his fingers and tucks it behind her ear. His hand gently runs along her cheek before sliding down her arm.

“I’m happy if you’re happy, Ed.” Y/N places a quick peck on his cheek and looks back up at the sky. 

The sky looked as though someone dumped glitter on a black piece of construction paper. Intricate designs and swirls littered the atmosphere as if it was a painting. It was complicated and organized, yet messy and chaotic. Edmund’s fingertips lightly brush up and down Y/N’s arms making her skin erupt with goosebumps. Y/N squirms under his touch.

“What’s wrong?” Edmund asks, moving his hand down to squeeze Y/N’s hip and pull her onto his lap. In the process, Y/N’s long skirt moves up her leg.

“Nothings wrong, darling.” Y/N mumbles staring at a tree to her right. She knew what her love was about to do, just not how he was going to do it. Edmund kisses her jaw and down to her neck. His cold nose brushes against her pulse point making her instinctively shut her eyes. He takes her waist in both hands and positions her body so she’s straddling his long legs. She could feel the rough fabric of his trousers and fought the urge to move against it. Her dress bunches around her waist, draping against his hips.

“Ed, what are you doing?” Her voice was shaking as he continued to kiss and suck at her neck. Edmund’s hands find her waist once more and he begins massaging them over the thin material of her summer dress. His teeth scrape ever so slightly over the soft skin of her neck and she gasps. 

Edmund moves off of her skin and brings his mouth to her ear. He’s so close that she can feel his hot breath fan over her ear. “I’m putting time into our relationship that I’ve been missing lately.” Edmund’s voice is husky and low, coming out as a deep growl. 

Y/N’s head dips down and she presses her lips to his. They taste vaguely of devils food cake, the dessert they had for dinner. It was intoxicating; her head began to get light and she felt like she was getting high off of Edmund. Her hands find their way to his face, one brushing past his cheek to grip the back of his hair. She admired the way it feels in her hand. Edmund’s hair was always so soft, Y/N didn’t know how he did it. His dark locks flow in between her fingers like water, twisting and turning in every which way and falling in loose curls. She grips a handful of hair near the nape of his neck and pulled. Hard. 

The sound Edmund let out was sinful; it came from somewhere deep in his throat and Y/N had only heard it a few times before. She loved that sound almost as much as she loved Edmund. He began to kiss her more harshly now, his hands starting to move her hips back and forth against him. Y/N let out a whimper and pulled away from the kiss. 

“You have a meeting tomorrow, my king.” Y/N said, breathless with swollen lips. His eyes darkened and his jaw clenched. 

“Fuck meetings.”

~ 

The two love birds eventually made it back to the castle, nodding at a guard and dropping their horses off at the stables. They brought the duvet up to their chins and settled down for the night. 

“Maybe I’ll skip tomorrow and lay in bed with you all day. We can talk about what’s happening in that pretty little head of yours. You can tell me about what you thought of when looking at the water.”

“I don’t know, Susan might scold me if I miss again. I’m not sure how she got the title of gentle.”

Edmund groaned. “I’ll talk to her, please? I miss you.” “Whatever you say, lover boy. But don’t think I won’t throw you under the bus.” 

“Deal, my siblings don’t scare me.”

“I feel like they should, they’re quite good in battle.”

Edmund put a hand over his heart. “Excuse me? Who’s the one who fights with two swords?”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you, I’m sleeping.”

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - The Girls and Their Ghosts

For @evaroze, a sweet gal who inspired me with her super kawaii art. I hope you enjoyed it! And a special shout out goes to @stephreynaart and her comic, who never fails to make me laugh and I couldn’t help but include it in this piece. (There may or may not be a part 2...)

(slight name change to better fit a cute headcanon)

~~~~~~~~~~

“MOVE! MOVE! OUTTA THE WAY!”

“Ouch!”

“Sorry, sorry!”

“Oh, dear me!”

“SHADDUP! MOVE!”

“Stanley, calm down.”

“PICK UP THE PACE, SIXER, I AIN’T MISSING THIS!”

Ford rolled his eyes with a smile on his worn face, weather-beaten and tired, but he continually ran after his twin. Despite the fact that their bodies would hate them for this later, they ran through the hospital as fast as they could. They weren’t this late when Soos had his son. Luck just hadn’t been by their side this time.

After battling a fierce storm to reach the coastline, finding the Stanmobile and having to explain why they were picking it up earlier than scheduled, racing to the center of the state, and parking in an emergency handicap spot, the old sailors in their mid-eighties used all of their strength to reach the Gravity Falls Hospital in time. While Ford was beyond jubilant, Stan was the most frantic and spirited, but that didn’t mean Ford didn’t punch three jerks in the face when confronted at the docks and that he would have no issue using a recovered memory gun to wipe some cops’ memories of a speeding Diablo.

Stan jammed the button for the elevator a few times, decided it was too slow, and bolted to the stairs. Ford followed, pulling out his magnet gun, and called, “Stanley, grab hold of me!”

Inside the stair-covered hallway, Stan grabbed his brother tightly and Ford shot upward, zapping them up a few floors and they landed like cats at the door to the sixth floor. They ran down the hall and Stan counted the doors. “Four… five… six… damn it, where’s eighteen?!”

“Grunkle Stan?”

Stan would recognize that voice anywhere. He ran faster (Ford didn’t think that was even possible) and around the corner Mabel, Gideon, Soos, and Dipper and Mabel’s parents were in a small waiting lobby. Mabel skipped to the old men happily, letting her orange-haired fiancee stay behind at a safe distance, and she hugged them tightly. Ford and Stan squeezed her tightly, haven’t seen her since the summer, the old tradition of a long reunion still going strong, and they soon let her go to have a look at the beautiful young lady with long brown hair, eyes that matched their own, and black lips with pink eyeshadow.

“Well?” Ford huffed, low on oxygen.

“She’s fine, everything’s okay.” Mabel giggled and patted their shoulders. “Any minute now.”

“We did miss it?” Stan checked hopefully.

“Nope!” Mabel said cheerfully. “They wanted to be alone for this, but when the baby’s born we can all go in.”

Stan held his pounding chest and collapsed into a chair. Soos was there to pat his shoulder and welcome him home, to which he immediately asked where his grandson was and if he was too cool for him now, but Soos just laughed and said that Melody would bring him once everything had calmed down.

An hour or so passed before nurses and the doctor started to leave the room. A few more minutes passed with everyone watching the door carefully and soon a very tired-looking Dipper emerged, pinching the bridge of his nose with a bandaged hand. It was amazing how much he resembled the men before him, sturdy and strong like his Grunkle Stan, but still fluffy and favored layers of clothing, like his Grunkle Ford. Like most men in the family, he required glasses, which he happily sported, alongside a small golden band on his left hand and a brown fur coat an old friend had given to him as a wedding present. Dipper had a little bit of stubble, promising a short old dutch beard and possibly a mustache (Stan prayed not a stupid mustache), and despite the bags under his eyes and the tiniest bit of redness that circles his soft brown spears, the windows to his soul sparkled with pure joy and his smile was radiant.

In an instant, his twin sister ran to him and he engulfed her in a huge hug, one that swept her off her feet and spun her around and made her giggle like the child she was at heart. Mabel eventually let him go to ruffle his hair and then asked, “So…”

Dipper grinned, his eyes sweeping the area to see who had arrived in time, and he croaked, his throat thick with emotion, “It’s a girl.”

Mabel squealed and bounced like there were springs at the bottom of her heels. Their parents high-fived and the new grandmother looked close to tears. Soos punched Gideon’s shoulder with a smile. Stan sneakily handed Ford a ten dollar bill, both grinning widely at the arrival of their first great-grandniece. God, that made them sound ancient.

“Congratulations, Dipper!” Ford cheered and clapped a six-fingered hand on his shoulder.

“So when can we see the little princess?” Stan asked with a huge smile.

“Right now,” Dipper said and opened the door for the small crowd.

Stan slipped his beanie off and held it with hands that trembled with excitement. Every time he was allowed in a delivery room had been special. Dipper and Mabel being born had been both painful and joyful, being the first new family members that didn’t hate him or pity him. Jacob Stanley Ramirez’s birth had been honorable with tears and hugs and no hint of pain, though Stan never became a father like he had once dreamed, he was now a grandfather. Now, his own little niblings had a baby to call their own. Stan had been terrified that he might not live to see this day, so he was grateful that not only he got to be here, but that Ford was here with him.

In the bed, freshly cleaned, tired, and glowing with pride and love, Pacifica held a pink bundle in her arms. Dipper was by her side soon enough, rubbing her shoulders and kissing her forehead in thanks. Her smirk immediately went to the old men, but it was too distracted by a trembling, squealing woman her age.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! Paz, she’s perfect!”

“You haven’t even seen her yet, Mabel.”

“Don’t care, she’s my niece, therefore she’s perfect!”

“Well, come here and meet your goddaughter.” Dipper chuckled.

Mabel was suddenly deadly still, the still-est she had been all day. With the color drained from her face and making her look like a vampire thanks to her mixture of pink and black outfit, she whispered, “I’m… I’m…”

The new parents nodded with supportive smiles. “No one’s better for the job, hon.” Pacifica said earnestly.

Mabel could only bite her lip as she stood by her twin and peered down at the bundle.

Stan and Ford stood by her side, now at the foot of the bed, and awed at the sight. A teeny tiny head was swaddled in the midst of the soft blanket. It was like when Stan saw those newborn twins all over again. A blank canvas with small resemblances to their parents. Stan swore this gal had that Pines’ baby button nose and she somehow already had that perfect Northwest skin complexion. His opinion may be biased, but who cares? This baby was the most beautiful Stan had ever seen (right next to his other kids, duh).

“Wow…” Stan choked. “She’s p-p-pretty.”

“Stanley, are you crying?” Ford chuckled.

“Shaddup.” He said weakly and wiped his wet eyes with his arm.

Pacifica smiled warmly and offered, “Wanna hold her, you old fart?”

With a quick cough and a clearing of his throat, Stan nodded and sat in the offered chair by Pacifica’s side. At this point the old man was an expert on accepting babies and how to hold them properly. He had been practicing since he was seventeen and got to hold Shermie’s son, who today became a grandfather and looked ready to fight Stan for a chance to hold the baby.

However, this time was different. Stan couldn’t be selfish with his time with her. She had tons of other people to love her and make sure she was happy. She didn’t need him. So much unlike Stan, who fought Shermie for five more minutes to hold the twins, and who held Jacob for hours as he cried silently, he let Ford hold the newborn after a few minutes and was content in watching. The rapid trip had tired him out.

“What’s her name?” Ford asked his grandnephew.

“Angelina Susan.” Dipper said proudly.

Everyone was merciful enough to ignore how wet Pacifica’s eyes were.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford had been having a conversation with Dipper over mugs of coffee while Stan entertained Angel when the conversation accidentally morphed into a monologue of Dipper explaining the progress of his ghost-hunting show to his old idol. Ford was listening. Or, half-listening.

As it was customary, Stan found a new snuggle buddy by letting Dipper’s daughter sleep on his chest, a hand over Angel protectively. The baby was almost a year old now and slept with her thumb in her mouth with dirty-blonde hair that she inherited from both parents. Ford smiled at the bright child. While Stan had always been amazing with children, there was something special about Angel that Ford couldn’t quite shake. Seeing her so happy and at peace made him feel the same way.

Later that night, Ford was in the kitchen for something to drink when he heard the start of a baby’s cries. He and Stan were staying with Dipper and Pacifica for the holidays this year while the Mystery Shack was undertaking repairs, and so the old sailor had no issue assisting with the baby if he could to repay the parents for their hospitality by letting them sleep. In his cozy blue flannel pajamas, Ford quietly entered Angel’s nursery and peeked inside, his ears cursed with the stressed cries and he was determined to solve whatever problem the baby had and to put her at ease.

Angel’s cries morphed into whimpers at the sight of the old man above her crib. Her lip trembled and she held her little arms up for him. Ford chuckled and gently scooped her up. “Oh, it’s alright, my dear. It’s alright. I’m here.” He cooed softly and rubbed her back, letting Angel rest her tiny head on his shoulder. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

Ford ran through his big head for a diagnosis of Angel’s distress. No bad smells, no sign of pain or injury. She might be hungry, Ford thought, but just as he was about to leave with her for the kitchen to try to find some milk to give her, the aged scientist noticed something. Angel was holding him very tight. Though she was no longer wailing, she was still crying, even trembling a little, but she did not feel cold. Ford re-positioned Angel to feel her forehead, but she did not feel warm. He then saw her beautiful baby blue eyes and knew what was wrong. Angel had been terrified by something.

Ford smiled softly and held her by his shoulder again to rub her back and he swayed slightly where he stood. “It’s alright, it’s alright, my lovely. It was only a nightmare. They all go away eventually, trust me.”

He and Angel slowly settled into the rocker for restless babies and Ford gently pushed back and forward. Angel was no longer crying now, still clinging onto her uncle’s pajamas tightly, like he was a lifeline, but she was starting to calm down and understand that she was safe. “That’s it, my little angel, that’s it.” Ford praised her quietly.

A quick glance outside told him that it had started to snow in the middle of the night. He smiled at the idea of playing with Angel in the morning, wrapped up like Eskimos and enjoying the gift nature had provided. An old song came to mind and so Ford hummed it quietly to the baby. Perhaps Ma had sung it a fair few times, or maybe it was a brand new tune Ford had made up. Who knows? Regardless, soon Angel was fast asleep and the old man had no strength to get up, so Dipper would simply have to find them in the morning and sneak a picture for jokes and memories.

~~~~~~~~~~

Three years passed. Angel was a bubbly, curious child with a pair of baby twin sisters, Stella and Estelle. It was nice to know Dipper and Mabel wouldn’t be the only set of twins in the family. Mabel and Gideon had their own family, Jacob had even grown up and graduated high-school just a few weeks ago. Stan was beyond proud, and the last four years on land with Dipper and his family to help around the house and practically work at the Mystery Shack had brought its own joys as did sailing around the world. But he was tired.

Ford held his hand when he didn’t have the strength one morning to get out of bed. They had been silent, simply enjoying each other’s presence, for they had already said everything that needed to be said. Not only said it, but said it a million times in the years they had spent sailing around the world and retiring in Gravity Falls together. But Ford wanted to assure his brother of one thing, detecting how hard he was fighting to stay.

He cleared his throat, squeezed his twin’s hand, and croaked, “You can let go, Stanley.”

Stan chuckled weakly. “Nah, I ain’t ready to go. Believe it or not, there’s still something I wanna stick around for.”

Ford smiled at that. He had feared that after so many years of neglect and only staying alive because he had something to do, that when there was nothing to do, he wouldn’t have the will to stay. He was beyond relieved to discover he was wrong. “What is that?”

Stan gave his brother a cocky look, despite being so tired and weak. “My family, Sixer. I’m not leaving them anytime soon.”

Ford found that he completely understood, and privately agreed. “Neither am I.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Not many people thought Ford would last long after Stan died, but the eldest twin managed to stick around for five years before he died of a peaceful heart attack in his sleep. The Pines family were saddened, but they were also happy that the brothers were reunited and that they had both lived full and happy lives. And they knew them well enough to know they would not have been pleased if everyone was sad and made their names taboo.

Angel remembered her grunkles vividly. She was eight when Grunkle Ford died and she took it hard, being very close to him and admiring him like her father before her had, but her family helped her get through it and Dipper assured her daughter that he was happy. That was all Angel cared about.

There were times she enjoyed being a big sister, and times she didn’t. Stella and Estelle caused so much trouble and were the biggest handful anyone had ever seen. Ford once said before he died that the girls gave him and Stan a run for their money. It was like the girls had unknowingly accepted a challenge, and now were pure trouble-making terrors that kept Gravity Falls interesting thanks to their father’s curiosity and their mother’s attitude.

One night, when Angel was ten, she left her room for a glass of water or milk, something to satisfy her thirst, and she tiptoed across the dark house with a smile, the glow of the moon creating squares on the floor through the windows, perfect for quiet hopscotch. Angel stopped at the fireplace that showcased so many old photos. There was the picture of Mommy and Grandma Susan in the diner, waitresses together, and pictures of weddings, fishing trips, holidays, and just hanging out with Aunt Mabel and Uncle Gideon and Uncle Soos and Jacob. One picture Angel carefully picked up and smiled at.

She was only a baby in this picture, maybe a few weeks old, and Grunkle Ford was holding her as he sat in an armchair (she had seen that same chair at the Mystery Shack), with Grunkle Stan leaning against the seat, ruffling his brother’s hair and smiling at the baby. Angel became a little sad; she didn’t remember Grunkle Stan as well as she remembered Grunkle Ford, but she loved them both and missed them. She took the framed photograph with her into the kitchen and looked at it as she drank her water at the table, remembering all she could.

Angel could remember the sound of Grunkle Ford’s voice. It was low and heavy, but soft and comforting, like a weighted blanket. He used that voice to read her stories, using a different voice or accent for each character and even doing the sound effects, whether Angel asked him to or not. She could also remember him and Aunt Mabel knitting and showing Angel how to do it. She didn’t have the patience to learn, but she liked watching the yarn magically turn into clothing and listening to the two swap stories.

Angel can remember Grunkle Ford’s shadow puppets. He was the best at it, and sometimes he would shine a light against a wall, build a mini pillow fort for Angel to rest on, and make pictures on the wall with his special hands. Susie had a vague memory of once saying she wishes she had six fingers so she was more like Grunkle Ford. And he may or may not have started to cry, though Angel to this day had no idea why.

As for Grunkle Stan she mostly only remembered him through Grunkle Ford; Angel was only three when Grunkle Stan died, and all she could remember independently was a very distinct laugh and his smile, but she could remember everything Grunkle Ford said about him and the stories he told. Everyone always said how great Grunkle Stan was, despite being a conman. Angel grinned at the idea of having such amazing relatives, both old men cunning and crafty and willing to do anything for their families. She really missed them.

Angel sighed and left her empty glass alone to put the picture back on the fireplace. As she passed the TV, a video tape fell out of a box below the screen, though she could have sworn she had never touched it. Angel grinned at that; she had a feeling something funny had happened before, but she told herself grief was imagining something that wasn’t there.

She picked up the tape and grinned to find a familiar cursive handwriting on some tape on the top of the black box. Angel quickly slid it into the very old machine and turned on the TV quietly, then sat on the carpeted floor before the glowing screen. What she saw made her jubilant and she had to bite her lip to keep from squealing.

Thirty minutes later she hurried to her sisters’ bedroom and shook them away, climbing on the ladder of the bunk-bed to reach Estelle and kicking Stella awake. “Girls! Get up!”

“What?” Estelle snorted, rubbing her eyes.

“Why?” Stella groaned, burying her head under her pillow.

“There’s something you gotta see, now c’mon!” Angel urged and eventually pulled the twins by their wrists out of bed and practically dragged them out of the room.

Stella and Estelle were a bit less pissed when they saw the TV was on and all Angel wanted was for them to watch something, so they settled on the couch with their sister and Angel re-winded it to a certain point. The twins gasped to find an uncle they didn’t remember on screen.

“My name’s Stanley Pines.” He said seriously, in his beanie, boxers, slippers, and stained undershirt, sitting in his famous armchair. “I was sixty-seven when I made this tape, but now… I’m dead.” He said in a low voice with a strained face and wide eyes, then wiggled his fingers and asked with laughter in his throat, “Trapped in a box underground! Pretty spooky, huh? Haha!”

There it was! That laugh Angel could so distinctly remember. She grinned at hearing that laugh again and glanced down at her sisters, both wide-eyed with wonder.

A sharp voice that was slightly more recognizable interrupted Grunkle Stan’s laugh. “Stanley!” Grunkle Ford scolded behind the camera, while Grunkle Stan rolled his eyes. “Stan, this is for future Pines generations, the children Dipper and Mabel will have that we might not get to meet, their grandchildren! Surely you have a message you want to leave them.”

“Alright alright, I do.” Grunkle Stan said and smiled at the camera as he pointed at his audience. “Remember to work hard and that family always comes first. Also,” Now Grunkle Stan grew slightly more serious again. “I have several pounds of gold and millions in unmarked bills in a safe buried under the Shack, next to the…” His face suddenly dropped, and then their grunkle went on to over-exaggerate, putting a hand to his chest to fake a heart attack, then proceeded to limp over his chair with his tongue sticking out, making dying noises.

As the twins were laughing loudly and probably waking up their parents and Angel tried to shush them but was giggling nonetheless, the camera spun around and Grunkle Ford appeared on screen. “I’m sorry, kids, but this is what I have to work with.” Then he raised an eyebrow annoyingly as Grunkle Stan continued to make dying noises.

Angel paused the TV as the girls tried to silence their laughter, but despite Stella biting her shirt and Estelle holding her breath until she was blue, all three couldn’t help but laugh, not only from the comedic scene recorded for them, but the overwhelming joy they had from seeing their grunkles. Not only seeing their grunkles, but via a message they had created just for them.

Stella wiped a teary eye and asked, “Is that it?”

Angel shook her head. “No, there’s thirty minutes of Grunkle Ford just talking to us and showing us their favorite things, even the Stan O’ War. That was just my favorite part.”

“Forget sleep!” Stella said and ran off for the kitchen. “Start the movie over! I’ll make popcorn!”

“I’ll get the drinks!” Estelle volunteered and followed her twin to the kitchen.

Angel smiled, loving the idea of seeing her family again, and alone in the room, she could feel a presence she couldn’t quite explain, but she looked at the old men in the photograph above the fireplace and whispered, “Thanks, guys. I miss you.”

Meanwhile, invisible to the Earth they dwelled on, Stan stood by his niece with his brother by his side. Proudly grinning, he clamped a hand over Ford’s shoulder and said, “They love us!”

Ford smiled and chuckled, his eyes still on his little angel, who looked at the picture hungrily. With any luck, she won’t miss them for much longer.

[trumpkinhotboy]

How I imagine studying in the library with Lucy and the other Pevensie would go down sometimes...

Relationship: lucy pevensie x reader (best friends) edmund pevensie x reader (friendlyyyy) 

Warnings: Absolutely none except wholesomeness😌

Song recommandation: Most of the time, when I’m writing I’m listening to music and kind of using the feeling it gives to inspire my writing. So here is the song recommendation for this one little pov,  actually I did listened to the full album of the Paper Kites called “Woodland” while writing this so if you just want to let it play in the background while you’re reading you’ll see it’s a lovely experience. I do feel like “Woodland” is the song that I personally think fits the most this pov, but you do you 💚

a/n: Hi there! This is my first ever kind of “fic”/pov, I’m pretty stoked and I truly hope you’ll like it ! I just thought about this concept the other day and started writing about it. There might be some mistakes here and there as english is not my first language, don’t hesitate to tell me about it + if you just want to tell me what you think don’t be shy either ! ☺️

While working in the library, everything is silent. You can hear the sound of quills scratching on paper. The sound of pages turning, punctuated by a sigh here and there. The cracking sound of a bone when an exhausted figure decides to stretch, hoping to dispose of the odd discomfort of being in the same position for too long.

After some time, you look at your best friend. Her face hunched over a gigantic book treating about a tedious subject. She has this terrible habit of playing with the feather on her quill, which, most likely, always ends up in her mouth. You tried to get her to stop it, but she always goes back to it even after all your disgusted expressions and mockeries. You scrunch a stolen sheet of paper in your hands, trying to be as subtle as possible. You stiffen and wince at the loud sound it makes in the echoing library, but no one seems to notice. You look around one more time before taking your aim and hitting her right in the face. She immediately looks up to you and is about to complain when you put your finger over your mouth, encouraging her to keep silent. She looks at you with an annoyed glance, but you know she is not that bothered. Everything is better than reading more of this terrible book, even getting shot directly in the face. You touch your belly articulating exaggeratingly: “I am H U N G R Y”; she can not help a little laugh but shrugs her shoulder. She cocked her head on the side, silently asking what your plan might be; she knew you always had a course of action in that kind of situation. Lifting your left eyebrow with a challenging stare, you motioned her to come closer. Giving a glance around, knowing that if her siblings or the study supervisor saw you, you would both be in trouble. What can you say royalty can not save you from being upbraided, especially when you have three older siblings.  Fortuitously, you two are a little farther in the library; no one notices when she walks over to where you are sitting. As soon as she reaches you, you both disappear in the rows of bookshelves filled with ancient books and precious manuscripts. You do love to read, but after three long hours, your fidgeting mind needs something more. You explain your simple plan, get out of here, get in the kitchen by one of the old secret tunnels, snatch some pastries and get back in here as if nothing happened. It did not need a lot of convincing for Lucy to accept your scheme; she was always in for an adventure. She did bring a good point to your attention, what would happen if someone came around to check up on you two and saw you were missing? Of course, one of you could have gone while the other stays to cover, but let us be honest. What is the fun of running away alone? As part of the royalty, it was necessary to know subjects going from politics to more practical and scientific notions, including cultural habits from possible allies. Escaping this part of your daily routine was disrespectful and was described as a lack of maturity, which you were not allowed as regents of a country and its surroundings. You had to think this through before committing to it. You studied your surrounding, trying to think of something that might throw away the scent of your little plan when the unexpected arrival of someone caught you both off guard, almost making you scream your hearts out if it was not for the intruder to have covered your mouths.  The freckles on the hand on your mouth gave away its owner. You were not surprised when the voice of Edmund whispered in your ear.

-         “I have a proposition.”

After some business and tactical talking, you put your plan to execution. It was easy and brilliant. Lucy was to tell the supervisor she needed a minute to herself in the bathroom, while if anyone were to ask questions, Edmund would pretend he was helping you with a particular matter, finding a book or something; he was great for diversion. You only had to bring him back a pastry, and the deal would be on. The supervisor, a gentle owl, politely waved off Lucy, and in a matter of seconds, you were both out of the library running to get to the nearest tunnel.

  Holding up your skirts while running around in the castle to get some pastries was way more fun than you could imagine, especially when it was forbidden. Hiding behind statues, making sure nobody saw the both of you, waiting behind corners to hear if someone was coming your way. Running in the darkness of the tunnels, hearing the echoes of your laughs, and hearing the sound of your feet hitting the rock was exhilarating. When you finally got to the kitchen, you knocked some stuff down to attract the chef's attention elsewhere while Lucy and her tiny figure sneaked in the pantry to take some pastries from the royal reserve. Stealing from this stock was the safest option; even though you both liked those escapades, you knew it could have terrible effects on the wrongfully incriminated. Since you were always allowed to come and take some food from this special place, no harm would befall anyone. Except for both of your little arses if you got caught out of the library while in study time.

  In two minutes, you were out, running once again in the opposite direction, laughing and snacking on your small treasures. Fortunately, nobody seemed to have noticed your disappearance. You waited, hidden behind a column at the entry of the library. Spotting Edmund sitting at a table near the entrance as planned, you threw a pebble in his direction, quickly getting his attention. As soon as he gave you the signal, you both ran as fast and as quietly as you could inside. Peter, Susan, and the supervisor were discussing a rather frustrating matter by the twitchy stance of Peter and the tapping foot of Susan. The poor owl seemed to be in over his head, flying around spraying a small rain of feathers on his surroundings, including Susan and Peter's hair. It gave you two the perfect occasion to get back at your table, breathing loudly, hands full of the stolen delicacies. Edmund walked around the corner, acting casually before drifting to our little spot; stopping by Lucy’s side, she slid one hot sweet bun in the pocket of his tunic. He gave us an appreciative nod when he took a big bite of it, barely retaining his contentment. -        “ What is happening between these three? Susan seems on the verge of a nervous breakdown.” Inquired Lucy grinning. -         “Oh, that? I just directed the conversation toward a subject I knew they would never agree on and that neither would want to let the other stay in his position.” -         “You are the best.” You added with a giggle. He gave you a fist bump before taking a seat next to his sister. You all enjoyed your pastries while looking at the spectacle of feathers and anger unfolding before your amused eyes.

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

F**k and Run

Inspired by the Liz Phair song of the same name. Such angst.

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC

Word count: 2,636

Content advisory: sexual references

I woke up alarmed/ I didn’t know where I was at first/ just that I woke up in your arms/ and almost immediately I felt sorry

This. Is. Not. Your. Room. It is not your bed. These are not your sheets. And that odd ochre shade of paint on the wall that greets you when you open your eyes, a color that seems like a projection of the hangover you’re feeling, is most definitely not your choice of decor. You can tell by the light streaming in from somewhere behind you that it’s morning but outside, someone is blaring WAP. That can’t be endearing them to the neighbors, whoever they are, and it’s certainly not making you feel any better because thinking about moving, bouncing, riding… It’s not what you want right now. 

You can tell, though, that it was exactly what you were doing a few hours ago. You have all the pleasant aches that come from a lusty romp and as you cast your mind back, you realize that you’ve been in this room with its bright morning light and ugly paint before. You don’t need to roll over to confirm the identity of the warm body pressed close to yours because you can feel the fragments of the night shaking loose. This is a very mixed blessing. 

You’d met up with Susan after you’d both gotten off work and headed to the Canopy Bar. No, under the circumstances, it wasn’t a great idea to hit a bar filled with people, many of whom were tourists and almost none of whom were wearing masks, but it had been ages since either of you had gone out and it was like your bones were aching for it. Besides, the hotel was miserable, with clients getting angry at having to sanitize hands and wear masks, while others got mad because the restaurant didn’t require people to have masks on while they ate. You and Susan had gotten your first vaccine and even though you knew you were supposed to wait until you got the second before re-entering the social world, impatience and youthful stupidity had taken over. 

So the two of you ditched your work clothes and headed down the beach to the covered open-air bar that always seemed to mean a good time. They had heaters at the tables to disguise the fact that it was not exactly beach weather but after a couple of cocktails, it might as well have been the 4th of July. 

You feel the body behind you shift a little, his face close to your hair. He gives a contented little sigh and slides one arm over your hip. His fingers press against a tender spot that you assume he made the night before, when he’d been digging into your flesh so hard, slamming into you as you rode him, that you thought he might break the skin. He’s still half asleep. At least half. When he wakes up, it’s going to be a different thing. 

Kenny. You don’t need to look at him to picture that deceptively angelic face with its sparkling blue eyes, or his body that looks like it descended from Mount Olympus. And you certainly don’t need help remembering his name, which is more than you can say for him, which is, funnily enough, the thing that started the chain of events that ended with you back here again. 

You’d spotted him with some friends at the bar, which seemed strange because you remembered from the first time you met him that he wasn’t a drinker. Like, at all. But he was clearly relaxed and enjoying himself, enjoying how he was so obviously the center of attention at his table, and in particular that he was the focus of a very beautiful, elegant woman seated directly across from him. One look and you knew he was on the make and you felt the bile rise in your throat because as far as you were concerned, you hadn’t finished the cycle of things between the two of you. There wasn’t actually anything sustained between the two of you, of course, but it definitely felt like there was something unfinished. 

Whatever happened to a boyfriend?/ The kind of guy who tries to win you over/ Whatever happened to a boyfriend?/ The kind of guy who makes love ‘cause he’s in it

You’d met Kenny a little over a month ago at The Canopy Bar and the two of you had ended up going back to his place. And it had been good. Damn, it had been good. He’d been effusive with his praise and compliments and he’d been sweet as the two of you drifted off to sleep. When you’d woken up, he’d taken you to get coffee from a pick up wagon and the two of you had hung out and chatted about pet stories and his time in Japan, a place you’d dreamed about visiting for years. 

Had you been thinking “relationship”? No. But it didn’t feel like a one night stand and god knows you’d gone through enough of those in the past couple of years to judge. You’d texted him a day or two later and suggested meeting up for a coffee at a place you liked and he’d responded within a couple of hours that he’d like that. You’d ended up setting a non-date date for the following week, which turned into you sitting at an outside table at the cafe for three hours. You’d tried texting and calling and had heard nothing. After about half an hour, you’d realized that you should leave and get on with the process of feeling resentful at being stood up. But you’d lingered because it didn’t feel like things were over. It felt like the night you’d spent together had been something a little bit special. 

Of course, you hadn’t been so sad as to keep trying to contact him after he stood you up, but you felt the memory of what had happened sticking to you like nettles. You just hadn’t had the opportunity to do anything about it last night and what you’d done about it, powered by a few stiff cocktails and a sense of indignation was march up and sit down next to him. 

“Well look who’s here,” you sneered, wanting him to know that he had some making up to do. “What the hell was with you no-showing?”

“Oh yeah, sorry about that,” he shrugged. “I was busy or something and I figured it wasn’t a big deal.”

“You know it’s considered polite to let someone know when you can’t make it to meet them.”

“Yeah, I guess that was shitty of me.” He gave a cheeky grin. “Sorry about that.”

He looked like he’s about to turn back to his friends and the doe-eyed beauty who looked a little too amused at how upset you obviously are, so you gripped his bicep to keep him focused on you. 

“Seriously, what made you not show up? If you didn’t want to meet me, you could have just said so. Or you could have canceled.”

“I mean it, I’m sorry.”

He was infuriatingly nonchalant about this, which made you angrier than you had been when you came over. In fact, it seemed like he was getting a bit of a kick out of the fact that you were angry. 

“This is Hikaru,” he said, motioning to the woman on the other side of the table. “Hikaru, this is… Shit, I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”

You felt a surge of fury and humiliation mingled together, twisted with the fact that you could tell he was lying. 

“Ha ha. You know my name.”

“No, really, I’m sorry. I’ve forgotten it.”

Even through your alcohol-fueled haze, you felt like you had a very clear grip on the moment. You could tell looking in his eyes that you were right: he knew perfectly well who you were and what your name was. But he was committed to the pretence that he didn’t. Maybe it was because he wanted to be left alone with this new girl. Maybe it was because you were making him nervous. 

“Whatever,” you growled. “You can go fuck yourself.”

You made your way back to Susan and thought about running away with your tail between your legs but almost immediately dismissed the idea. To hell with that guy. You’d been having a good time before you saw him and you weren’t going to let him ruin that. You couldn’t start ceding public spaces to assholes. So you hit the dance floor with your friend and the two of you enjoyed the attention you generated, the eyes trailing over you, even the drunk college boys who tried their damnedest to be charming. 

After a while, you were aware that someone was lurking nearby, close to you without trying to engage you, seemingly happy to dance by himself and lap up the attention he was getting. His friend Hikaru wasn’t with him, although you saw her a couple of times during the next couple of hours, always looking at him, always looking like she was waiting. 

Finally, he was close enough that he leaned over and spoke directly into your ear. 

“Guess I’m heading out. Thanks for the laugh, though, stranger.”

You whirled, half inclined to punch him in the nose. 

“What the fuck is your problem? You think you can just be rude and act like that to me and it’s funny?”

“Ok, sorry, it was nice seeing you again.” He gave a little laugh and wiggled his eyebrows as he started to move away, his expression somehow inviting you to follow him.

Susan grabbed hold of your arm and tried to steer you away but you disconnected from her, assuring her that you just needed to say a few things to this jerk. 

So you trailed after him, yelling some insults and waiting for him to hightail it. But every time you’d dragged your feet a little, he’d slowed down too. 

“Ok,” he sighed as you stepped away from the bar and onto the beach, “you’re right, I remember your name. I was just being a shit.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Was that because you were trying to hit on Hikaru?”

“No. I think she has a bit of a thing for me.”

He started walking in the direction you remembered he lived in. 

“You coming?” He called back, obviously loving how aggravated you were at his cockiness. 

You almost felt bad/ you said that I should call you up/ but I knew much better than that

Finally, you roll over to look at him. He has his hand over his eyes to shield them from the light streaming in. The window is a semi-skylight built into the roof of the place. The light it gives is probably gorgeous when you’re not trying to sleep off a hangover. He gives you a tired smile without looking you in the eye and pulls you close to him for a few seconds. 

“I have to get ready for work. Sorry about that.”

“No worries.”

He sits up and as he does, it occurs to you that he’s actively avoiding looking at you, like you’re going to turn him to a pillar of salt or worse. 

“It was cool seeing you again,” he says quietly. 

“Yeah. I’m sorry about the yelling and everything.”

“I deserved it.”

“Yes you did. But I’m sorry if it makes things awkward for you and your friends.”

You sit up, letting the bedcovers fall from your body as you survey the room for your hastily discarded clothes. Angry sex is disorderly sex and there are bits of you strewn around the place. It takes you a few seconds to realize that he’s just standing at the top of the stairs leading down from his sleeping loft, watching you. 

He makes as if he’s about to say something but it dies unspoken, so there’s just a long, strange look between you. And this time you’re absolutely certain that this does not feel like a one night stand, or a two night stand, for either of you. There’s an electricity that passes from his eyes to yours and back, the kind of thing that gives you butterflies in your stomach. The kind of thing that’s going to continue to bring butterflies when you think about it over the coming weeks or longer. 

“I’m just gonna jump in the shower for a couple of minutes,” he says finally. “You want to have one?”

“No, I’m ok. I’ll just grab one at home.”

He nods and leaves and you wonder if you’re even supposed to be here when he gets back. You slowly gather up your belongings and get dressed, enjoying the little twinges you feel stretching your muscles out. Those make your stomach flip too. 

You make your way downstairs, hoping that you can at least snag a cup of coffee before leaving but the second your feet hit the final few stairs to the ground floor, you wish you’d stayed in his room. 

There are a few men milling around, a couple of guys with shaved heads and goatees, one of whom looks like a runaway extra from Sons of Anarchy. With them is an older, well-dressed man wearing sunglasses even though he’s in the house. You can’t decide if it’s just discomfort or if you genuinely dislike them at first sight. One thing is for certain, they seem unsurprised to see a woman appear from above. 

“Hi,” you rasp, unsure if you’re supposed to introduce yourself or allow them to pretend you’re not there. It seems like they’d prefer the latter option. “Is there any coffee?”

“Yeah, kitchen,” the older man directs you thrusting his chin in the right direction. 

You pour yourself a generous mug and decide that hiding out in the kitchen is the best plan for now. After a few minutes, you hear Kenny’s voice greeting the others, sounding just a little surprised that they’re there. They all seem boisterous and loud but you hear the voices drop for a second just before Kenny replies, “In the kitchen? Ok, just give me a minute.”

You gulp as much of your coffee as you can and square your shoulders so that you look more like someone who was just about to leave as he enters the room. 

“Hey, sorry if they surprised you,” he offers sheepishly. 

“No, it’s no problem. I helped myself to coffee, I hope that’s alright.”

“Oh, for sure. Take your time.”

“No, no, I was just leaving. I have a bunch of shit to do today.”

“Yeah, for sure, me too.” He pauses before giving you a quick hug, pulling back just at the moment that it feels he’s about to let himself melt into it. “So we should totally do that coffee date sometime.”

“Definitely. You know, whenever your schedule is…”

“For sure. I mean, I’ll call you.”

And as your awkward, staccato conversation stutters to a silence, your eyes meet again for a long moment and it’s like you’re both mourning for something that needn’t be as doomed as it is. 

“Thanks for last night,” you tell him, as cheerfully as you can manage.

“Hey, thank you. It was great.”

He shows you to the door and leans in to press a kiss to your cheek as you step over the threshold. The gesture seems to hang in suspended animation, your faces pressed together and your lips resting on each other’s skin. But then the moment passes and it’s like the butterflies in your stomach rise and flutter away all at once into the bright morning sun. 

I can feel it in my bones/ I’m gonna spend my whole life alone

[gyll-yee-haw]

Lost on you

Reader x Sebastian Stan / Reader x Jake Gyllenhaal smut/angst

Hey, guess who’s back! (Hope y’all won’t hate me for this...) Buuut I had this idea and I really liked how it turned out, so I decided to share!

Prompt: You’re Jake’s girl, but you’re slowly falling in love with your co-star Sebastian. ALSO: this was inspired by “Lost on you” by Lewis Capaldi! Warnings: Little mention of age gap, smut in the end, but mentions of it in other parts too... and maybe a little sadness? Maybe a lot... Like 5k words... hope from the bottom of my heart that you like it, I’m kinda anxious lol

---

Everyday I'm a slave to the heartache And you're wasting away every night I don't wanna leave you lonely But I've run out of love this time You know that I adore you Though I couldn't give enough Hope you'll be safe in the arms of another 'Cause I can't take the weight of your love

We said goodbye with a cold kiss. He said "good luck", but he didn't say "I love you". His mistake was assuming that I knew he did. Now I was in a taxi in L.A. and Jake was in our apartment in New York. The taxi stopped in front of the studio and I took a deep breath. I always got so nervous before starting a new project. Now I was about to meet the cast for the new movie I'm starring. It was a romcom, shouldn't take too long to finish, and soon I'd be able to go back to New York and start working on another project... but not professional this time. Jake and I have been together for four years. Three wonderful ones. But the last one was based on fights and the two of us getting more and more distant. But God only knows how hard I fought to be with that man, and I'm not going to give up on him like that. That's why the plan is to be away for a while, shooting this movie until we miss each other so much and realise we're acting stupid... and the moment I step in New York again, we're going to make this work. We have to make this work. "Y/N!" I heard the director walking in my direction. "I'm happy you're here. How was your flight?" "Hi, nice to see you gain, Susan." I greeted the woman I had worked with a few times with a hug. "The flight was okay, I even had time to leave my bags at the hotel before coming." We had a nice conversation, but nothing really important was said. After a few minutes, she took me to meet the set and the part of the crew that was already there. Then she left me there talking to them and excused herself to go meet the ones who were still arriving. I was still a bit tired because of the travel, so I wasn't paying much attention to what was happening around me. Suddenly, I feel someone touch my arm and I turn around, imagining it was Susan. But no, it was another familiar face. "Hey." The man smiled at me and offered a polite, but kinda awkward hug, since he caught me off guard. "Susan told me you were already here. I believe we were on the same plane from New York, but I got stuck on the traffic..." "Oh... Yeah, L.A..." I rolled my eyes and smiled back at him. "Sorry, I didn't see you on the plane, we could have met before. I'm Y/N, by the way..." "Yes, I know your work, it's a pleasure to be able to work with you now." He said. "I'm Sebastian." "I know that too." I left out a little laugh. "I'm a huge Marvel nerd. I also loved your performance in I, Tonya, the Oscars really slept on you..." He got all flushed and left out a word you couldn't really understand. "What?" I mocked him. "You gotta learn how to take a compliment." He raised his eyebrows at me, but before he could say anything, Susan interrupted everyone's conversations by asking if we were ready to start. In the movie, Sebastian and I were best friends slowly falling in love. The classic: my character had a finacé, played by Richard Madden in this movie, and Sebatian's was running out of time to make mine change her mind about the wedding... that same movie we've seen a million times, but always makes us cry, even though we all know how it ends. The last scene we had to shoot today included a big kiss scene between Richard and I. I definitely wasn't mentally prepared for this on the very first day, but it was my job. "Alright, this is the last one, before we all can go home." Susan sat back on her chair and announced as Richard and I were trying to concentrate. "Ready, guys?" I gave her a quick nod. I looked beside her and saw Sebastian paying close attention to the scene as well. "Okay, then, action!" I turned to face Richard and we started to say our lines. It was all flowing perfectly, we were absolutely focused on what we were doing. When the time came, he looked me deep in the eyes and wrapped his arms around my waist, bringing me close, and brought his hand to my face, caressing my cheek a few times before we both closed our eyes and started to kiss each other hungrily. I'm not sure how long it lasted. But only when I heard Susan scream "cut" for the second time I realised I lost control a little bit... I mean... when was the last time Jake had kissed me like that? I was so needy, and all I got these days were cold, emotionless kisses. "Sorry, was that a bit too much?" I whispered to Richard, a little embarassed. "No, don't worry." He laughed. "It has to look real, right?" I nodded and gave him a smile before walked towards Susan, in desperate need to be excused. "I'm so excited." She announced before I could say anything. "Everyone did a great job today, I feel like this movie will be so beautiful..." She didn't even look at me and walked away to check the cameras after that last scenes. I was left alone with Sebastian. "That was really convincing." He said, noticing there was something bothering me. "Thanks..." I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. "But I... I don't think so, it was just... you know?" "Are you okay?" He asked. "I'm telling you, you did a great job, don't worry about it." I looked him in the eyes and saw that he was being honest. He was really worried about me. But he had no idea of the kind of problem I was dealing with, and it had nothing to do with my acting. "Thank you." I looked at the floor. I needed love and reassurance so bad that the fact that Sebastian was that nice to me almost made me cry. --- Back to my hotel, I kept walking in circles with my phone in my hands. I should call Jake and let him know I got here safely. But, at the same time, part of me was telling myself "You left several hours ago and didn't get a single text from him asking if you were okay". But you know what? I would feel a lot worse if I got a lovely text from my boyfriend after kissing my co-star like he was the love of my life. I just need to hear his voice... A little wave of courage hit me and I called him before it could disapper. "Y/N?" He replied quickly. Maybe he was waiting for me to call? That thought brought a smile to my face. "Hey." I said, trying to control myself to not sound like a fan meeting their idol, even though that's how it felt. "Just wanted to let you know I'm fine. I'm in my hotel... we already shot a few stuff..." "It's great to hear from you." He said in a sweet voice and I melted. "How is the cast like?" We spent half an hour talking about my day and it filled my heart with hope. He also told me about his play, that would debut in Brodway in a few months. I was excited for him as well. "Alright..." I said, a bit sad. "Listen, I gotta go now... it's getting late and we'll shoot really early tomorrow." "Okay. Call me again when you can." He told me. "Goodnight!" "Goodnight!" I replied. "I love y-" Before I could finish the phrase, he wasn't there anymore. I tried to convince myself that I shouldn't let that last minute ruin the good conversation we had... but would it hurt to tell me he loves me?

---

I was waiting for my taxi in front of the hotel, when I heard someone talking to me. "Come here often?" The man said. I was ready to turn around and kick him in the balls, when I realised it was Sebastian. We both laughed. "Be careful how you approach me. I'm warning you." I tried to sound serious. "You gave me one look and my life flashed before my eyes." He told me. "Trust me, I won't do it again." "Good." I smiled triumphantly. "But, answering your question... Yeah, I'm staying here." "In this hotel?" He looked at me confused. "Me too. How were we on the same plane and now at the same hotel and we never see each other? Are you some kind of spy?" "You just suck at following me." I shrugged. "But, luckily, always end up at the same place, right?" "Luckily?" "You gotta learn how to take a compliment." He repeated my phrase from the day before. "I-" I felt my cheeks burning. Alright, that looked like a fun game to play. "Well, you gotta learn how to compliment me first. That hardly counted as one." "Why are you blushing then?" He smirked. "I hope you know that I have a boyfriend." I decided to cut him before things went too far. "Of course, you're always on the news." He replied with the same smile on his face he had before. He wasn't being serious at all, and that relaxed me. "He's one of the greatests actors I've ever seen, by the way." It was true, Jake and I were always on the news. But not usually for good reasons. We met about 10 years ago and I fell in love straight away. The problem is that we have a (kinda big) age gap... and he obviously didn't take me serious 10 years ago, when I was barely 18. But I've been obsessed with that man all those years. Until 4 years ago, when we were cast on the same movie, I finally showed him I am a big girl and I know what I want. The problem is that the media just doesn't understand that and they just keep making up the most disgusting theories about our relationship. They know nothing about us. Sebastian and I shared the taxi to the studio, and decided it would be a nice thing to do everyday, since we were going to the same place, anyway. And so we did. Day after day we started to grow very close as friends. And we continued that stupid joke, flirting with each other every chance we got. But one day, I noticed Seb was a little different during our ride to the studio. A bit quiet, didn't really reply to my flirts. I thought he was just not in the mood that day, and I should respect that. I wasn't given the script for that day's scene until I got to the studio. Then I sat there to read and Richard sat beside me. "Are you ready?" He smirked. "For..?" I asked, still focused on the pages in my hands. "You'll record a sex scene with Sebastian today." He replied calmly, but it felt like a punch in the stomach. So is that why he was so weird? Was he nervous? "No big deal, we're professionals." I didn't know if I was trying to fool him or myself. Sebastian was such a good friend during these hard times... some nights I tried to call Jake and he didn't reply or was too cold on the phone, and I knew I could simply knock on Seb's door, or somedays it felt like he could read my mind, and he would knock on mine first, so we both went to the hotel's bar or just sat in each other's bedroom and talked for hours. Laughed for hours. He told me everything about his childhood, moving from country to country, and I, after drinking a little too much, told him all about my situation with Jake. God, he was so good for me. And I didn't want things to get weird like they got when I kissed Richard... without Seb, I would have gone crazy alone in this city. I felt like my heart was going to explode as I watched the crew prepare the scene. Seb was standing beside the couch of the fake living room as Susan explained to him how things would work. He looked as nervous as me and I hated it. "Y/N?" Susan called. "Can we start now?" I stood up like I was going to a funeral. I just hoped it wasn't our friendship's funeral. After hearing a few instructions as well, I sat down beside Seb and gave him a little smile, and he gave me a even weaker one in return. Sebastian's hand landed on my thigh and he added preassure very slow and gently. My eyes were on his fingers until he moved his body a little closer to mine on the couch. Then my eyes met his blue ones, deeper than I've ever seen them before. "You should be with someone who never makes you feel alone." He whispered as his lips got closer to mine. "Not even when he's not around." Maybe my head was really fucked up, but he didn't seem to be talking about our characters. I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him closer, so I felt Seb's lips on mine for the first time... and I swear, it tasted like heaven when his tongue rolled agaisnt mine. His hands went to my skirt, bringing it up a bit, then worked on unzipping his pants. For a moment, I forgot his underwear wasn't coming off too. But that was only when I felt him grinding against me, and he was so deliciously hard that we both moaned at the same time. That would look as realistic as if he had actually entered me on the movie... cause that's why we are doing this for, anyway... When the director said "cut", Sebastian lips were on my neck and I heard him mutter the most frustrated "fuck" ever. I was so wet that I was terrified that I would leave a mark on the couch for everyone to see how extremely much I needed Seb. The whole studio was dead silent. I wanted to vanish in the air. Took Sebastian a moment to get away from me. The atmosphere was terrible, everyone was uncomfortable. But maybe it was just the way I was feeling and, in my imagination, everyone felt the same. --- I didn't even look Seb in the eyes until the next morning, in the taxi. I thanked God he was such a good actor... we both simply pretended none of that happened, no word about that was spoken. Maybe I was overreacting and nothing really happened to our friendship. --- The weeks seemed to fly and we finished shooting. Next step was doing a bunch of interviews to promote the movie. I don't remember having all that fun in a while... all Seb and I did was joke around and run away from the questions during the interviews. The critics loved the movie and there were entire essays about our sex scene online. People just couldn't believe two actors had all that chemistry. Well... we were a great team, me and him. That's all. We just had to ignore the fans shipping us and ignoring the fact that I had a boyfriend. When it was finally time to go back to New York, I thought I would be a lot happier than I actually was. I had a great time and didn't want it to end so soon... everything was so tense back at home... "At least Seb and I live in the same city." As soon as that idea crossed my mind, I felt absolutely terrible. I was actually sad about going back to my man, and what made me feel better was that I'd have Seb to come back to when I needed? It wasn't fair. Not for me. Not for Jake. Not for Sebastian. That's why I had to solve this situation as soon as I got home. --- But I only knew how fucked up I was on the moment I opened the door at our house. Jake was there and he smiled at me.   And I had no idea what I wanted anymore. Half of me was so happy because he was there. Half of me wished he wasn't and I had an excuse to walk away. His hug wasn't as cold as I expected, but it was far from being as warm as I needed. We went to the bedroom kissing each other and bumping into everything that was on the way. But when he laid on top of me, I didn't see the same fire in his eyes. Neither did I feel it between my legs. And it didn't matter at all how big he was, when he entered me I felt so empty. At heart. We were completely out of love and both of us knew that. He fucked me so hard, like he was trying to feel something that wasn't there anymore. --- Seb tried to contact me several times, but I kept ignoring him. And God only knows it hurted me more than him. But I didn't want to give up on Jake. Even though the situation was getting worse everyday. Now I was sitting in our bedroom, doing my make up to go watch the first night of Jake's play on Broadway. Preparing myself to act like we were in love in front of the cameras. --- When we finally got rid of all the empty questions and the flashes, Jake took me backstage, where he received a few special guests. Tom Hiddleston was there. Maggie too. I spotted a few other familiar faces, until a special one made you freeze. "What are you doing here?" I walked til where Sebastian were. "Hi. It's nice to see you again too." He said seriously. "Well, Jake invited me. Didn't he tell you he's producing a movie I'll be in?" "He doesn't tell me much." I shrugged. The play had started. All the guests went somewhere else to watch it, but I stood there in the backstage with Seb. "Why did you disappear like that?" He asked as soon as we were alone. "Because I wanted this to work. Me and him." I admitted. "And what does it have to do with me?" He said angrily. "I never did absolutely anything to tear you two apart. I accepted your choice from the start." "There's no choice, Sebastian." I defended myself. "Of course there is." He rolled his eyes. "You chose to keep things the way they are because you're scared of changes. You think it's comfortable to stay in a place that doesn't make you happy, because it once did, and if you move on, you may break your heart again." "Why do you think you know me so well?" I was shocked at how he just threw all the truth I was hiding right on my face. "Because we spent months opening up to each other. Every single night. I don't know about you, but I told you things nobody else ever knew about me." He admitted. "And I have no idea why I trusted you so easily, but I surely wasn't ready for you to just walk out of my life like that." "Seb..." I felt tears starting to come. "I'm so in love with you,Y/N." As soon as those words left his lips, a bunch of people started to appear out of nowhere and fill the backstage. I realised the play was over. I spotted Jake coming in my direction and quickly dried my eyes. --- It was a big night. I tried my best to be proud of Jake, but I couldn't focus on that. That made me feel so selfish... I just couldn't be here to support him anymore, so what am I even doing here? Jake was laying in bed, but I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. I sat beside him and told him: "We need to talk." "We do." He agreed. "We probably should have done this before, right?" "Since you stopped telling me you love me." I felt the tears coming back. "Hey." He sat back and used his finger to wipe my tears away. "You know I'll always love you. Just... not like this anymore. I thought we should give it another try, but..." "I'll always love you too." I gave him a little sad smile. "I'm so happy for the times we had." He added. "But we don't wanna ruin it waiting for someone to cheat or be unhappy forever." "Jake... I think I'm in love with someone else." I admitted. Both for him and for myself for the first time. "It's not that hard to tell." He chuckled. "I saw the interviews. I've met someone too. I'm not sure if it's love. But I know that you and Sebastian..." "I swear we never, ever, had anything before this conversation." I interrupted him. "And I don't think I will now. He's really hurt." "Go after him." He encouraged me, making my heart stop for a moment. "What?" --- It was cold in New York. Nearly 1am and I absolutely couldn't believe I was sitting in my car, parked in an empty street. I grabbed my phone and didn't think twice. "Hello?" Sebastian answered and I knew there was no turning back now. "Seb?" I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" "No, it's fine, I couldn't sleep..." He sighed. "Listen, Y/N, I'm so sorry about the way I spoke to you earlier, you owe me absolutely nothing and I..." "I was stupid and ended up making the three of us suffer." I cut him. "But now I'm in front of your house, and if you don't forgive me, I have nowhere to spend the night." "Wait..." He said, confused. "You're in front of my house?" None of us said another word. When I saw the front door open, I got out of my car and we looked at each other for a moment. Suddently, I wasn't thinking anymore. I ran to his arms and he pulled me inside the house, closing the door behind us. His lips were pressed against mine and his hands were absolutely all over me. And, God, it was better than before, because now it was us. Just us. And we didn't have to stop anymore. He guided me towards the living room and sat down on the couch, pulling me with him, so I fell on his lap. Without breaking the kiss for a second, I adjusted, keeping one leg on each side of him. His hands went straight to my ass, squeezing it hard. My hands went to his abdomen and he helped me remove his shirt. I didn't even wait for him to do the same with mine. His eyes landed on my breasts as my bra fell on his lap. He grabbed my waist and broght me closer to him, burying his face and my chest and spreading open mouthed kisses on my breasts. I began to moan and grind my hips against his lap, feeling him getting hard under me. I remembered the last time I felt this and how frustrating it was... "Y/N..." He called. "Please, don't stop." I begged. "I just have to be sure you really want this." He smirked. "But I don't think I have to ask, do I?" I shook my head and helped him remove my pants, quickly sitting on his lap again. His fingers slowly trailed my underwear, until he decided to slide them inside it, caressing my folds very gently. "But what if I want to hear it?" He teased. "Do you think it's that easy? You ignore me for weeks, but then you just knock on my door and I give you what you want?" He slid one finger inside me and I left another moan escape. "Look at how wet you are." He slid another finger in, but didn't move. "If you were my girl, I'd do something about it... but you know very well I don't play with what is not mine." "Seb... please..." I tried to move my hips, but he hold my waist with the other hand so strongly, I would see a mark there tomorrow. "Fuck... if you were my girl, I'd treat you right." He removed his fingers from me and used them to pull down his pants and palm his hard cock over his underwear. "I'll be your girl. I came here to be your girl. Your good girl." I promised, feeling my mouth water just from seeing how big he looked. "I've been yours, and only yours, since the day we kissed for the first time, I know you felt that too..." "You have no idea how long I waited to hear that." He told me, returning his hands to my underwear, to take it off and throw it somewhere else in the room. "And you have no idea how long I waited to tell you that." I bit my lip as I watched him pull his underwear down, and seeing his hard cock already leaking. The look on his eyes gave me the permission I needed before his lips could. I raised my hips and he pulled me close and entered me, guiding my hips up and down with no time to adjust, cause we needed each other that much. I always imagined Seb as a gentle lover, but right now we just needed to fuck. Hard. Fast. Loud. We just had to let all our frustrations out. I came first, falling on his chest, seeing stars. He slowed down his pace a little, but didn't stop until he came inside me. And none of us really cared about that at the moment. I was there, laying on his chest while he ran his fingers through my spine in silence. And that was the first time in months I felt completety in peace. "Do you mean what you said?" He asked calmly. "Every single word." I smiled and snuggled closer to him.

Lately I'm getting lost on you You got me doing things I never thought I'd do Never spent so long on a losing battle But lately giving up don't seem to matter

[weasleydream]

A thousand time stronger

Here is the famous Narnia imagine! I had this idea when I watched The Prince Caspian and, as some of you asked me to post it... It’s finally there! 

If you have some Narnia requests, don’t hesitate to send them (and if it’s angsty then thank you so much because who doesn’t like some angst?) 

Anyway, enjoy!

Masterlist 

(gif not mine) 

Our story takes place in a world none of us know. It was a fantastical world, a world most of children would want to visit, or would have wanted to visit during its brightest period. Now, Narnia was nothing more than the shadow of what it used to be, an apparently lifeless world invaded by heartless people. Its Golden Age had ended so many years before, its happy days disappeared in a blow of wind in the same time as the most loved Kings and Queens Narnia ever knew. 

Still unaware of what their beloved Narnia had become, in fact, still unaware they even were in Narnia, five kids were playing in the clear water of the sea after a unique experience with Magic. The oldest was Peter, it was a kind boy who wanted nothing more than to protect his siblings, even though he could be a bit strict with them, or some of them to be more precise. The oldest girl was Susan, she was soft and had the irritating habit to talk like their mother. Then came Edmund and Y/N, the twins of the family. During their childhood, they couldn’t have been more different - Edmund was as mocking and vicious as Y/N was introvert and unsure of herself. However, they were now like the two sides of a coin, they knew each other perfectly and were inseparable. The youngest was Lucy, a little girl with a big heart and a contagious smile. Together, they had reigned on Narnia during fifteen years, known as Peter the Magnificent, Susan the Gentle, Edmund the Just, Y/N the Brave and Lucy the Valiant, before being thrown again in the house of Professor Kirke. 

After a year of dreaming of it, and even if our heroes didn’t know it yet, they were back at Narnia. But if they hadn’t changed a lot - they were only a bit taller and the girls’ hair were longer - their beloved land wasn’t the same. In fact, it was so different that they didn’t recognized the beach they had contemplated during fifteen years. 

“Where do you think we are?” finally asked Edmund with his hand above his eyes to protect himself from the burning sun. 

“I thought you were more intelligent than that, Ed.” laughed Y/N. “Where do you think we can possibly be?”

“It’s Narnia, you silly.” replied Peter. 

“I didn’t remember these ruins…” muttered Edmund. 

And indeed, when they looked up, his siblings saw ruins at the top of the cliff in front of them. It was the first witness of the past splendor of the place, only a few stones carrying the wealth of their history. All intrigued by this mystery, they ventured in the woods that led to the old castle and, enjoying the shadow provided by the trees that were definitely calm, they began to explore. Suddenly, and as usual in these situations in which her elders lacked of imagination, Lucy understood where they were. She placed her siblings in front of the little piles of rocks that had once been thrones. 

“Imagine columns, and a roof made of glass.” she said. “This is Cair Paravel!”

The joy had been quite short, because this realization was accompanied by another one, much more worrying and even sad. 

“It can’t have been that long.” murmured Y/N. 

“It can, remember the time isn’t the same in here.” replied Susan. 

“You know what it means?” If her smile was contagious, Lucy’s tears were too. “All our friends… Mr Tumnus, Mr and Mrs Beaver… They are gone.”

After a few minutes of silence, the time for the Pevensies to process these news, these decided to continue their exploration. Now that they knew where they were, it was much easier to get their bearings. 

“Oh, I didn’t remember this corridor!” said Lucy as she walked between two stone lines.

“Look, this is the orchard!” exclaimed Edmund. 

“Come here!” shouted Peter. “Remember this door?”

“The Treasure Room?” asked Susan. “I hope it’s intact!”

And intact it was, with all the treasures they remembered and the ones they had forgotten. At the end of the room aligned five massive trunks. Lucy precipitately opened hers to find her dagger and her Cordial. She also showed Susan a dress she had worn when she was an adult. She was amazed at the size. After the most adult answer Susan could have given her (“That’s because you were taller!”), Edmund and Y/N exchanged an amused look and opened theirs in the same movement. The first thing Y/N saw in her trunk was her sword. She grabbed it, not fearing a second the rust, and drew it. The blade was still as perfect as the last time she had seen it, with all the engravings retracing all the battles she had won alongside Edmund, Peter and sometimes Lucy. A nostalgic sigh escaped her lips when she gently passed her thumb on the oldest engraving. Battle of Beruna. She could remember it as perfectly as if it had happened the day before, the blood rushing in her head, the adrenaline when the two sides had met, the sickening fear when Edmund had been injured, the anger and desire of revenge she had felt just after. It had marked the beginning of the happiest era of her life, for sure. 

During the following hours, all the Pevensie siblings began to feel more like the Kings and Queens they had been, and less like the children that had just left England. And with that, the tensions between Y/N and Peter became more and more present. For a long time, Peter had been really hard with the twins, always reprimanding them as soon as he had the occasion. Susan was also like this. Things had changed with Edmund after the Battle of Beruna, when he had been hurt and Peter had thought he would lose him. Since this day, he had been less on his nerves with him, and slightly less with Y/N too, but it was nothing comparable. When they had come back in England and left for school, they hadn’t seen each other a lot and it hadn’t been a problem. But as they were walking in the woods to find Prince Caspian, Y/N was feeling like she would scream just to get this out of her. The way Peter was giving orders around, the way he was holding his head a bit higher than needed, it was really irritating and not really respectful for Trumpkin the dwarf. 

The little group finally reached the camp where Caspian was with the Old Narnians. After the presentations, Y/N decided to explore the surroundings and left Edmund and Peter to their council to follow Lucy and Susan. Together, they wandered between fauns, dwarfs and all types of animals. They were sharpening blades or chatting, but it gave the girls all sort of memories. 

“What three girls like you are doing here?”

It was a little faun, apparently really young. 

“We’re just walking around.” said Lucy. 

“Oh, Lucy, look!” exclaimed Y/N, who hadn’t really paid attention to the faun. “Are they mice?”

Indeed, twelve mice were proudly walking toward the mound. 

“Lucy?” repeated the faun. “Are you… Are you the Queens? Queen Lucy, Queen Susan and Queen Y/N?” 

“Absolutely.” approved Y/N. 

The little faun’s eyes became round, and he didn’t lose a second before rushing to the first friend of his he saw, exclaiming with big moves the Old Kings and Queens were here. Soon, a crowd formed around the girls and Y/N, who hated all this royal attention, managed to escape and joined Edmund, Peter and Caspian in the mound. 

The ambience was way more tensed in there, and soon, Y/N learned that the actual king, Miraz, was Caspian’s uncle and an usurpator. His army was here, ready to defeat Caspian’s and kill his nephew. They knew Aslan was the only one that could offer them a victory, but they needed time. 

“A duel.” finally proposed Peter. “A duel that will end with the death of one of us. Either Miraz or me.”

No one found a better idea and an order was immediately written. Peter handed it to Edmund, and Y/N followed him outside. The twins joined the camp of the enemy and the crowd of Telmarine soldiers opened in front of them. They glared at the two Narnians and whispered on their passage. 

“Are they the famous twins? The ones deemed to be invincible if they fight together?”

“I had never seen a girl with a sword…”

“They don’t seem that dangerous.”

“You kidding?”

To be fair, seeing them walking that calmly in the middle of the enemies, shining in their armours perfectly polished, was simply impressive. Edmund was slightly in front of Y/N, one of his hands holding the parchment and the other firmly gripping his belt. Y/N had grabbed casually the guard of her sword. Their faces matched with a determined look visible only in times of war, and the only thing that disturbed the calmness they had imposed themselves was the nervous habit Y/N had always had: her jaw clenched compulsively.

Edmund and Y/N didn’t answer the whispers around them, they only straightened a bit their back and kept walking at a steady pace toward the tent in the middle of the camp. The fabric was richly embroidered with gold thread, which didn’t leave a doubt about the comfort Miraz used to live in. The twins eventually reached the entrance of the tent and the two guards in front of them stepped aside after an order coming from Miraz himself. 

After all she had heard about him, Y/N had imagined a terrible man, intimidating with a royal stature which would have helped him keeping the throne of Narnia despite him not being legitime. But in fact, he looked like an usurpator in her opinion. Each of his features showed how perfidious and contemptuous he was. Even Peter didn’t lift his head that high - Miraz seemed to be an arrogant man. 

After the usual presentations, which caused the nobles around Miraz to look at Edmund and Y/N both in amusement and disbelief, the discussion eventually came to the duel. Miraz listened to Edmund as he read the order while Y/N watched carefully at each person present in the tent. None of them inspired her trust and she had the unpleasant impression that no matter which arrangement was adopted, it wouldn’t be respected by the Telmarines. 

After a sign of the usurpator, Edmund and Y/N left the tent to let him the time to think about his decision. 

“Tell me again, why do we think they’ll respect our engagement?” asked Y/N. 

“I know.” replied Edmund. “I don’t trust them either. But we need time, we need to keep them busy until-”

“Until Aslan is ready to help us, I know.”

A silence followed, during which both imagined how bad things could go if they were betrayed. Of course, none of them would have said it out loud, and that for two reasons. The first was that they didn’t need words to communicate. One look, one gesture was enough for them to understand the other. The second reason was that they were too worried and didn’t want to worry more the other. It had always been kinda like this, but this overprotectiveness had reached its peaks during their first time in Narnia, when Edmund had left alone to find the White Witch. Y/N knew something was wrong, and she knew her twin wouldn’t have let her alone like this without a good reason. She had defended him in front of Peter and Susan, Lucy being too kind and too young to blame him, and it was from this moment that her relation with Peter had become worse. When Edmund had finally been rescued, when he had seen by himself how worried Y/N had been, he had sworn he would do anything for her not to be worried anymore. When she had seen how distraught her dear Ed was, Y/N had sworn the same thing. Of course, they had forgotten they could read each other like an open book, and they just lost the habit to formulate their fears with words. 

Maybe seeing the twins silent had given the Telmarines the courage to approach, fact is that they began to laugh just under their nose. 

“I’ve always said that a lady with something cutting in the hands is the most stupid thing that can happen.” 

The soldier who had said that was a tall man with a mocking grin. Apparently proud of his intervention, he elbowed the man next to him who laughed. The Pevensies couldn’t know that, but the second man had a painful memory of his wife threatening him with a knife while she was slicing the meat for the diner and tripping at his feet, cutting his arm in passage.

“Or the most dangerous.” replicated Edmund, who was particularly proud of his sister. 

“Is it true that you’re two of the best swordsmen of your time?” asked a young soldier. He seemed more impressed than the others. 

“Maybe you can show us!” It was the first soldier. Y/N rolled her eyes and Edmund shook his head. 

“No offense boy, but I really would like to see your sister in action.”

Maybe he had heard enough stories to know Y/N was easy to provoke, fact is that the solder touched the reckless part of her and despite Edmund muttering it wasn’t a good idea, Y/N got up and drew her sword. 

“You want to see me fight?” she asked. “Fine. Attack me.”

The three men were less proud now that a crowd was forming around them. 

“Come on Y/N, don’t play with them and do it quick, we don’t have all day!” shouted Edmund. 

No sooner said than done, in only a few movements no one saw precisely, except Edmund who had seen her fight a thousand times, Y/N had won the fight. The three soldiers were on the ground with their mouths wide open. Edmund snickered and shook his head when his twin complained about how easy it had been. However, his attitude changed immediately when one of the soldiers, the one who had provoked Y/N, got up silently and readied to attack her by behind. One look at his brother warned her and she turned around at the speed of light to grab the collar of his chainmail and position his own sword under his chin. 

“Don’t ever do that again.” she hissed. 

The soldier was simply terrified, and that was understandable: he had in front of him Y/N Pevensie, a dangerous girl whose reputation had traveled the ages, who was known by every Narnian like the most skilled swordswoman of history, and who formed with Edmund (who was now standing behind her) an invincible duo. Y/N eventually let go of him and tiptoed to watch him in the eyes. 

“If I were you, I would pray to not cross me during a battle, or else you’re dead.”

And she gave him her back to sit back on the tree stump she was initially on. The crowd quickly dispersed, and no one noticed the humiliated soldier rushing in the tent. Roughly five minutes later, Miraz got out and walked directly toward Edmund and Y/N who stood up even though they didn’t respect this man at all. 

“Does it amuse you to play with my soldiers?”

This question full of contempt was for Y/N, and the girl felt her blood boiling. She could practically feel Edmund’s warning radiating behind her and, at the cost of a great effort, she relaxed. 

“Your soldiers wanted to see me fight.” she replied. “I couldn’t deny them this honour.”

This was maybe her biggest flaw. Y/N, in the very same way as Edmund, was someone very sarcastic and was simply unable to measure when sarcasm was allowed and when it wasn’t. Useless to precise right now, it absolutely wasn’t. 

“I don’t think they’ve all had the opportunity to see you,” began Miraz, “and I didn’t have either. I accept the duel against your brother with the condition that you fight against twenty of my best soldiers. If you win, the duel will take place. If you lose, your brothers, sisters and Caspian will die. If you don’t accept, my army will attack yours when the Sun will be at its zenith. Now, if you need me, I’ll be in my tent.”

And Miraz left, persuaded he had found the way to get rid of all of his enemies. A long silence took place between Edmund and Y/N, the first one fearing his sister’s decision and the latter regretting bitterly her behavior. Unconsciously, they had both glanced at the Sun, but they knew it was still early in the morning. Now, all that they had to do was take a decision, and Y/N was on the verge of accepting, after all she was the responsible of this situation, but Edmund took the lead. 

“We go back to our camp. Peter will decide what to do.”

“The decision is already taken.” groaned Y/N. 

She wasn’t angry at Edmund, of course. She was mentally scolding herself for having been so pretentious and, even though she would never admit it, she was pretty afraid too. 

“There’s no way you’ll fight them, Y/N.” said Edmund. “I won’t let you.”

And he left at a quick pace, obliging Y/N to follow him. They gained back their camp in a total silence, where they found Peter and Caspian discussing strategies with Trumpkin and Cornelius. When he saw his siblings’ expressions, both matching in a mix of fear and anger, Peter immediately understood something had gone wrong. 

“Where are Susan and Lucy?” asked Y/N. 

“Gone.” replied Peter. “What happened? He didn’t accept?”

Edmund glared at Y/N, and even though Peter knew it wasn’t actual anger, it still was so unusual that he began to imagine the worst things that could happen. Above all, Edmund seemed decided to let his twin talk on her own. 

“No! He accepted… Well, kinda.” muttered Y/N. 

“Kinda? Tell me what happened.” Now, Peter was beginning to worry too. 

“He’ll fight with you if I beat his twenty best soldiers in a round.”

She had talked so low that Peter wasn’t sure he had heard correctly. Y/N explained how it had happened, how the three soldiers had provoked her and how she had effortlessly beaten them. Then she added in a small voice that all of their lives were on her. At this point, Peter was pacing and, if Y/N had had the same connexion with him that she had with Edmund, she would have seen he wasn’t angry either but worried sick. But she didn’t know, and the shame made her keep her head down. 

“You won’t let her fight, right?” asked Edmund. 

Peter stayed silent, trying his best to imagine how things could go if they were attacked a few hours later. Of course he didn’t want to let his little sister fight, but he had a big responsibility on him and feelings couldn’t be good. 

“You can’t forbid me.”

Y/N had gained her courage back and was decided to assume her mistake. There was no way everyone would be thrown in a battle lost in advance if she could prevent it. And at this moment, she was sure she could beat these soldiers and she wasn’t worried for her siblings’ life, along with Caspian’s one. 

“Everyone, out.” said Peter with his autoritary voice.

Everyone left, the last being Edmund who refused to let this decision be taken without him and had to be dragged by Caspian. 

“Peter I swear you better take the good decision!” he screamed just before disappearing after a particularly violent push from Caspian. 

A long silence took place in the mound. Peter was still pacing and Y/N, waiting not so patiently for his decision. After a few minutes, Peter felt observed and he glanced at his sister. 

“Don’t look at me like this Y/N. You won’t fight.”

“You can’t-”

“Yes I can!” shouted Peter. “And if I really need to use this argument; then I’ll do it: I am the High King and you have to obey me.”

It was all he shouldn’t have said, because it put Y/N in such an anger that she rushed toward him and stopped a few centimeters only from him. 

“You may have been the High King,” she hissed, “but I have been a Queen. I have never let anyone give me orders and I won’t start today. Whether Ed likes it or not, whether you like it or not, I will fight. I made a mistake and I have to make up for it, that’s all.”

“And if you’re killed?” Peter was getting crazy. How could he make her understand how much he wanted her to be safe?

“Then I hope you’ll be smart enough to not be killed on the spot.” For a split second, her voice shook and Y/N prayed for Peter not to have heard it. But he had, and it had made his heart sting. “But it doesn’t matter. I won’t lose.”

“You can’t know that!” he exclaimed. “You see, you’re not mature enough to be involved in all of this! You never think, you-”

“It’s not a question of maturity Peter! I do not have the choice, it’s different. Don’t think one second I’ll let you die…” she added with a lowest voice. 

“And you don’t have to die either. If we let him attack-”

“That’s exactly what we wanted to avoid! If we let Miraz attack, then we’re dead. All of us. You said it yourself. We can’t count on Aslan, that’s why we need to gain time. And this time, I’ll gain it for you.”

With that, Y/N left without waiting for his answer. The fact is that Peter knew she was right, but he wasn’t ready to let her risk her life. He had always been especially hard on her, but he loved her with every fiber of his heart. If only he could have taken her place, he would have done it without any hesitation, but Miraz had been clear. If Y/N didn’t fight, they were attacked. However, he gained back his senses soon enough to yell “You stay on the camp!” just before murmuring “That’s an order you better follow.”

Of course, Y/N didn’t have any intention to follow this order, not this one after all the ones she had ignored and especially coming from Peter. She was looking for a horse when Edmund grabbed her arm. 

“Can I know where you think you’re going?”

“Looking for you.” she lied. “Peter wants to talk to you.”

She had always been unable to lie to Edmund, and the latter saw perfectly through it. He narrowed his eyes, probably ready to tie her in order to keep her safe when, by an exceptional coincidence, Peter’s voice echoed. He was calling for Edmund. The boy reluctantly let go of Y/N’s arm and gave her his back. She knew he would take apart the first faun or minotaur he would see to tell him to watch her, which was why she didn’t have a lot of time. She innocently walked toward the nearest horse and, when she was just next to the animal, she jumped on its back. Unfortunately, Edmund had seen her and immediately shouted her name. 

That didn’t stop Y/N and she exhorted her horse to go faster. If all her blood hadn’t rushed in her head blocking every sound around her, she would have heard him screaming her name with a desperation he had never shown or even felt. All she could think was that she had to fight, even if she had to lose her life. It was for her siblings, who she loved more than anything. It was for Caspian, who had proven to be an excellent prince and friend. It was for Narnia, which was her second home. 

Y/N reached the enemies’ camp way faster than the first time. She rushed in Miraz’ tent, pushing aside the two guards at its entrance in passing, and only stopped when she was in front of the wooden table. She extended an arm, her eyes fixing the usurpator. 

“My brother agreed.”

And they shook hands at the very moment Edmund entered the tent, hit by a wave of pure terror when he couldn’t help but think it could be one of the last times he saw her alive. 

The grass under her body was soft, as it had always been in Narnia. It was way more comfortable than the grass of our world, and it gave Y/N the feeling she was lying on a cloud. She was far enough from the camp to only hear the lapping of water that flowed lazily somewhere on her right. She was used of the woods, used of listening carefully each noise, and she immediately heard the steps that came closer and closer to her. She didn’t try to hide, though, because she knew it was Edmund and she wanted nothing more than to see him. 

“You should eat something.” 

She didn’t answer, not because she wasn’t hungry but because the restraint in his voice was something she had never heard, and for the very first time, she couldn’t understand if Edmund was angry or not. 

“Y/N, the meat is cooling down.”

“I’m not hungry.” she said with the most calm voice she could. 

“You should-”

“I told you no, Ed!”

Y/N had shouted and immediately regretted it. Edmund sighed and stepped closer. Until then, he had waited standing a few meters away. He let himself fall on the ground and laid just next to Y/N. 

“Are you afraid?” he finally asked. Y/N could feel his eyes on her. 

“No…” she lied. “Not for me, anyway.” It was a bit more true. 

“I am.” Saying Y/N was surprised would be an understatement, and she looked at her twin in disbelief to meet his teary eyes. “I’m afraid to lose you and... and so is Peter.”

“It won’t be the first time I risk my life.”

“It’s different, Y/N.”

She didn’t find anything to reply, and Edmund stayed silent. He had closed his eyes too, and his thought were monopolized by only one thought, or more precisely, one memory: the day, so many years before, when he had been rescued from the Witch’s camp. 

Edmund was walking next to Aslan. He had been afraid of the big Lion, afraid that he would think he was the worst traitor he had ever met, and the worst was that Edmund thought he would have been right. The sun was getting down, and illuminated all the camp in a delicate golden colour. Aslan was silent, and all of sudden, a kind of purr could be heard; it was like if it came right from his heart. 

“Tell me what you are fearing, Son of Adam.”

Edmund didn’t know what to answer and stayed silent. He feared so much things that he didn’t know which one the Lion wanted to hear, plus, he didn’t want to be seen as a coward. 

“Your brother and your sisters won’t blame you forever, don’t worry.” At this moment, Edmund knew Aslan had guessed his worst fear. “You should go and see them.”

Indeed, Y/N, Peter, Susan and Lucy were waiting for him in front of a big tent. Edmund slowly approached them, not completely reassured by the Lion’s words, but Y/N didn’t wait and ran toward him. She threw her arms around him and tightened him almost painfully. She was muttering something under her breath, something only Edmund could have heard if only he wasn’t murmuring himself. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

When, after what felt like hours, the twins eventually pulled apart, their eyes met and Edmund’s heart broke a bit when he saw the tears in Y/N’s eyes. At this instant, he swore to himself he would always protect her, whatever the cost. 

And protect her he had always tried his best to do. Y/N had become his absolute priority, he wanted to make up for all the tears she had shed because of him. That’s why he had always stayed by her side, in parties and during battles, he had always been there for her and had never really shared his own worries, wanting to take care of Y/N’s first. 

The problem was that Y/N had done the exact same thing. From this day when he had finally come back, when she had seen the desperation and infinite shame in his eyes, she had understood Edmund wouldn’t be truly happy until he would finally be able to understand it wasn’t completely his fault, and that no one would hate him for that. She had made a point to always show him she was here no matter what. She had done everything to hide her own problems, considering Edmund’s ones were way more important. 

That’s why, without even knowing it, they had developed a silent language between them, one that would reveal each of their fears, each of their wounds, a language that reversed all the efforts they had made to erase themselves. 

They stayed silent like this during a quite long time, maybe an hour, and only moved when the sound of a horn echoed. Two short sounds followed by a longer one. It was time. 

Y/N found herself like paralyzed, unable to make any move, not even when Edmund got up. He gently grabbed her hand and that helped her getting out of her trance. She got up.  

“You still have time to refuse.” he murmured. 

“You know I won’t.” 

Edmund wanted to roll his eyes but he decided against it, not wanting to do anything that could possibly upset Y/N. 

“Yeah, I know. Foolish hope, when you hold us… Come on,” he said while passing an arm around her shoulders, “I will help you to get ready. You will let me help you right?”

“Of course.”

Since the moment she had hurriedly left the camp to go to Miraz’s, Y/N hadn’t seen Peter once. Edmund led her in her tent and helped her putting on her armor, which she had taken off before hiding in the woods. Then he grabbed her sword and give it to her. 

“Don’t wanna force you to be violent,” he said with his famous smirk, “but I hope you’ll slice them all.”

He was only pretending to not be terrified, of course.

Outside, both camps were reunited around a square delimited by ropes. To get there, Edmund and Y/N crossed the crowd of old Narnians who solemnly stepped aside on their passage. By now, they all knew what kind of agreement had been done, and they all thought Y/N couldn’t possibly win this. 

Peter was waiting for them next to the improvised arena. His jaw was clenched and his arms crossed, but his nervous steps as he paced along the rope showed how worried he was. The twins finally joined him, and Y/N found herself regretting bitterly Lucy and Susan’s absence. She didn’t feel that confident anymore, and she would have wanted to tell them goodbye. On the other hand, if she lost, her sisters would be far enough to hide. 

“Ed,” she murmured. Edmund immediately turned his head to look at her. “Can you send someone warn Lucy and Susan?”

Edmund’s jaw clenched and he looked away. After a second, Y/N understood it was because asking him that was like admitting she would lose. 

“Please Ed, I just want to be sure they are safe.”

He finally nodded weakly, and both his and Y/N’s gazes followed Peter’s one. Their elder was looking at the twenty men aligned in front of them, most of them tall and broad. Miraz was slowly walking in front of them, giving his back to the Narnians and probably giving his soldiers advices or orders. The usurpator had put on his shiniest armor for the occasion. Suddenly, Peter placed himself in front of Y/N and grabbed her shoulders. 

“Listen to me.” He was whispering so that Y/N and Edmund, who had moved closer, were the only one that heard what he was saying. “Miraz thinks brutal strength will be enough to beat you, but you have the advantage of the speed. The best you can do is tiring them until they get slow enough for you to attack without being touched. Okay?”

Y/N nodded and put all her bravery in this small movement. However, all her courage was certainly not a lot as she began to slightly shake. She had a bad feeling about this, something she felt on her blood and her bones. Peter, when he saw how distraught his little sister was, did something he had never done before: he engulfed her in a strong embrace, a bone-crushing hug quite uncomfortable with the armors but oh so warming in their hearts. Y/N wrapped her arms around her brother and tightened him as firmly as she could and, even though none of them said anything, they knew something was definitely different between them. If Susan had been here, she would have smiled tenderly, savouring the first demonstration of love Peter and Y/N had shown to each other in years. 

Peter eventually let go of her and softly ruffled her hair. 

“You can do that Y/N. I believe in you.”

Then Peter took a few steps backwards and Edmund practically jumped at her neck. He almost choked her to death, but she didn’t say anything because these signs of affection were rare with Edmund and she wanted to enjoy it as long as she could. She expected to see the same look as in the forest, but the determination burning in his eyes almost burnt her too and she felt as ready as she could ever be. 

“You can win Y/N.” said Edmund. “You’re the best, you can beat them all without any difficulty.”

Y/N nodded, more firmly this time, and entered the arena. The encouragements of her brothers echoed in her ears, and she felt like she could move mountains. 

The first man took a step forward. The fight began. 

Y/N was whirling like a dancer, her gestures full of grace as she stroke powerful blows. Her sword shone under the sun, along with her polished armor, her black hair flying around her and forming an aura. Everyone, Narnian or Telmarine, understood Y/N’s reputation in the stories: it seemed like it wasn’t a girl in front of them, but a demon. 

The first five guys were beaten rather quickly. Y/N hadn’t been seriously injured, except after the third soldier had hit her head violently; she had staggered a bit but had gained back her senses soon enough to send his head flying. She did as Peter had said: her strategy was to provoke them, forcing them to attack while she just jumped out of their league. However, this strategy had two flaws: first, it was hard for her too, and the fifth soldier had understood. From this point, she didn’t have any other choice than to always take the first attack, and the fights became more fierce and violent than before. The seventh soldier brought her her first serious injury, a long cut at the base of the neck. 

When his sword had cut her flesh, Edmund’s heart had almost stopped. YN had taken a few steps back, just the time to evaluate the damages, before jumping on him with a renewed vigour. He had sighed, thanking Aslan she was still alive, and glanced at Peter’s pale face. A scream in the crowd had made him focus again on the fight to see his twin killing the seventh soldier. 

Y/N had thought maybe she had a chance. The first soldiers hadn’t been too hard to beat, and she had truly hoped she could get through this. But this hope had vanished a long time ago: the more injuries she got, the closer she saw her death. Her body was aching, every fiber was protesting against her movements. Her muscles were burning, her head was painful both because of the blows and the sun. She was sweating so much that she had to grip her sword harder to not let it fall. Her lungs seemed to be unable to continue bringing air in her body, and after a desperate assault during which she pierced her enemy’s stomach, she fell on her knees and noticed absentmindedly a dagger hidden in his belt. 

The fourteenth soldier had already taken a step forward, but in spite of killing her on the spot, he offered her a helpful hand. 

“You need some time?”

“Five minutes.” she whispered. 

The soldier nodded and helped her getting up. Immediately, she felt two pairs of arms behind her, and when she turned around she met Edmund and Peter’s worried faces. Without losing a second, they half dragged her to their side of the arena and sat her on bench that had been brought here for her. Peter examined her head, constantly rambling about how great she had been and how she could win, while Edmund cleaned the cut of her neck without a word. She noticed his hands were slightly shaking and for a second she felt bad. 

“Let me alone, please.” she murmured. 

Peter stopped, glanced worriedly at her and left. Edmund hadn’t made a move, yet Y/N had grabbed his wrist to make sure he would stay. 

“I wasn’t going to let you.” he said. 

“I know.”

They stayed silent a few seconds during which both of them tried to find something to say. 

“Ed, I wanted to tell you in case I…” Finishing this sentence was too hard. 

“In case you nothing Y/N. You can do it, I know you can.” Edmund looked like he was trying to convince himself. “You won’t die, you hear me? I told you Y/N, I can’t lose you.”

And he hugged her tighter than before, and she hugged him weaker than before because her strength was missing. 

“I’m sorry…” 

It came in a broken breath, a weak and pathetic sound that yet broke Edmund’s heart. All of sudden, and for the very first time, he was crying, bitter tears rolling on his cheeks as his twin, his second half, gave up on her shell and showed how terrified she was. 

“Don’t do that… Don’t do that Y/N, I don’t want…”

“Ed, I need to tell you-”

“No!” he exclaimed. “Why don’t you tell Peter? Why don’t you want to see him? Why do I have to be the only one to hear your apologies? Why do I have to be the only one you say farewell to?”

Y/N wiped a tear from her face. Now, it was clear: the both of them knew she would lose and die. 

“Because it will be easier for him that way.” she replied in a whisper. 

“And me? Did you- did you think about me? Why don’t you make it easier for me too?”

“I don’t know how to do that, Ed!” cried out Y/N. “But I can’t… Without you, I just- I can’t do that, Ed! If you don’t help me, I won’t be able to go back there and to fight; if you-”

She had stopped so brutally because Edmund had hugged her once more, one last desperate embrace to show her how much he loved her and why she couldn’t possibly lose. 

“I love you Y/N.” He murmured in her hair. “You have to come victorious, you don’t have the choice, okay? Promise me.”

“I promise.”

And she got up, a new strength in her, something that felt like desperation but that gave her the impression she could swim beyond the biggest ocean and climb the highest mountain. She walked toward the last seven soldiers but after only a few steps, she vivaciously turned around and ran directly toward Peter. She jumped on him, making him stumble a bit before gaining back his balance and holding tightly his little sister. 

“I’m sorry Peter,” she murmured, “so sorry… Please, if I lose, please, don’t let yourself get killed. Protect Ed, Lucy and Susan, and Caspian, and Narnia, Peter, please…”

“Of course Y/N, of course.” he replied. “But you have to promise me you’ll do your best to win, promise you’ll fight like the lioness you are.”

Y/N smiled and nodded. 

“Peter, I…” She had never said it to him, but she needed him to know. If she couldn’t keep her promise, Peter had to hear it at least once. “I love you, big brother.”

And Peter, with the heart heavier than it had ever been, kissed lightly her hair. 

“I love you too, little sister.”

Y/N eventually let go of Peter, exchanged a last glance with Edmund, and gained back her place in the middle of the arena. The last seven soldiers were in front of her, all of them looking more impressive than the others. The girl had the terrible impression to be in one of these apocalyptic scenes you can see in the movies. She was facing her enemy, all alone and looking so insignifiant, surrounded by thirteen lifeless bodies, her steps in blood rivers printed on the ground. 

She was ready to attack as soon as the signal would be given, but she certainly didn’t expect Miraz to slowly walk toward her. He lifted an hand, probably to say that Peter and Edmund had to stay where they were, and murmured something in Y/N’s ear. 

“Each of these soldiers are stronger than the first thirteen reunited. Good luck,dear Queen.”

He left with a little smile, placed himself between his big chair and the wooden table he had put his helmet, sword and shield on, and gave the signal. 

Y/N had hoped Miraz had just tried to discourage her, but it was clear that he was right. The soldiers were way stronger, each of their blows hitting like a rock with the speed of light. Y/N was running on empty, her breathing became more and more rapid and her moves slower and slower. The weight on her heart, knowing that Peter and Edmund hoped she would get out of this alive, was almost too much for her to bear. 

However, against all odds for Miraz and the Telmarines, like they had expected for Edmund, Peter and the Narnians, Y/N fought incredibly well. She had turned her desperation into a force and, like each person that doesn’t have anything to lose, she had become simply dangerous. She took risks, she got hurt, but she killed several soldiers. One, two, three, four. Only three left. The victory had never been closer and, for the first time since the beginning, she seriously considered the thought that she could win. 

She should have known. The last three soldiers walked simultaneously toward her, drawing their sword in the same movement, two of them stepping aside to surround her. Of course, it was Miraz’s order. If by miracle, she beats seventeen of you, you three, you fight together against her. She can’t win, understood? 

The true fight began. From the corner of the eye, she saw the first man attempting to hit her. She dodged and attacked another. A sword touched her leg, another her arm. She dived to the ground. Rolled, jumped. She fell, bled, screamed, attacked. One hit her straight in the jaw, and she fell backward. She rolled and striked a body. Two swords threatened to finish her. Her eyes fell on the hidden dagger. No time to think. She grabbed the dagger, threw it on a man’s face, pierced the other’s body, rolled to dodge the last. 

It took all her strength to get up and look at the man in front of her. Her knees were shaking, threatening to give up on her at every moment. She was giving her back to her family, and she couldn’t see their broken expression. 

Because Edmund knew when she was exhausted. He knew when Y/N couldn’t move anymore, and he knew she felt like that at this very moment. Peter still hoped she would find the energy to kill the last one, he hoped she could get him by surprise if she attacked quickly enough. Both screamed when she fell back on her knees while letting go of her sword, and when she looked down, as if she was accepting her fate. As if she was ready to die. 

“Y/N!” screamed Peter. 

“No! Y/N, NO!” 

Edmund tried to join his twin to protect her, but Peter had grabbed him, himself being held by Caspian. They didn’t notice Y/N slightly jumping when she heard them. The sword of the Telmarine seemed to fell on her in slow motion, and Peter and Edmund saw it hit her back. At the same moment, the soldier fell backward, Y/N on the top of him. 

The following seconds seemed to last hours, everyone looking in disbelief at the two immobile bodies. Then, slowly, very slowly, her groans covered by the cheers of the Narnians, Y/N got up. Her chainmail had protected her, and in a desperate attempt, she had jumped on the solder to tackle him on the ground, her arm extended and her sword ready to kill. 

Peter and Edmund rushed toward her. Y/N turned around and fell in Edmund’s arms. 

“You did it! Y/N you did it!” Edmund had never felt so relieved in his life. “You scared me, don’t ever do anything like this anymore!”

“I can’t promise…” she smiled weakly. “Wait, I’ve got something to do.”

Y/N dragged her exhausted body toward a soldier. She ripped the dagger from his bloodied face and walked slowly and solemnly to Miraz. With a thud, she planted the dagger in the wooden table, and the weapon shook a bit. A puddle of blood was forming around it, soaking Miraz’s weapons. He seemed infuriated and looked up to Y/N as if he could kill her on the spot. 

“Peter is a thousand time stronger than me.” She said with the most royal voice she had ever used. “If you want to stand a chance against my brother, I hope for you you’re a thousand time stronger than all these soldiers.” 

And she left without adding anything, stumbling toward her brothers. Edmund wrapped an arm around her waist, Peter around her shoulders, and they slowly joined the mound under the Narnians’ cheerings. 

[thetravelerwrites]

Geyarajan (Gandharva)

Rating: Teen Relationship: Female Human/Male Gandharva Additional Tags: Exophilia, Gandharva, Childhood Sweethearts, Puppy Love Content Warnings: Blood, Broken Limb, Separation, Memory lapse Words: 4600

A commission for @floral-and-fine​, who did the lovely artwork above of Geyarajan! An angsty story about childhood love that gets torn apart by family, race, and circumstance! Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

In Hinduism, the Gandharvas are male nature spirits and husbands of the Apsaras, the spirits of clouds and air. Some are part animal, usually a bird or horse. They have superb musical skills; they guard the Soma and make beautiful music for the gods in their palaces. Gandharvas are frequently depicted as singers in the court of the gods.

Gandharvas in the historic sense acted as messengers between the gods and humans; today they are depicted as imitators, cheaters, liars and those who have tricked themselves 'into being god'. In Hindu law, a gandharva marriage is one contracted by mutual consent and without formal rituals.

You couldn’t remember exactly how old you were, perhaps six or seven, when you first met Geyarajan. You’d heard singing in the forest as you played in the garden behind your house, and though you knew you shouldn’t go into the woods alone, you couldn’t ignore the draw of the sound. After maybe ten minutes, you stumbled upon a clearing wherein a boy was singing, though he was unlike any other child you’d ever met.

Your village was human only; beasts and monsters were not allowed to settle there. In fact, non-human merchants were discouraged from selling their wares in the area and non-human travelers weren’t welcome in the taverns or inns. In your short life, you’d only seen a person who wasn’t human maybe twice, and only in passing. You didn’t quite understand why, but you were a small child and didn’t think to question it.

Not until you met Geyarajan. When you first saw him, you were mesmerized by his music. You sat and listened as still as a statue, afraid of spooking him, except when he stopped singing, he looked right at you and smiled as if he’d been waiting for you to come. He hopped off the rock where he had been sitting, and you got a better look at him.

He wore no clothing, but from the waist down, he was all feathers. His legs were long and spindly, ending in three-toed claws like that of a purple heron. The feathers extended up his back to his large wings, heather-grey in color, which were folded at rest behind him.

His hair was long and falling around his shoulders in ringlets, the same heather-gray as his feathers. He had a four streaks of black, two on each side, running down his neck, one stripe down his arms to his wrists, the other down the inside of his shoulders and disappearing into the feathers near his hips. His skin was dark brown and his eyes were sharp in shape, amber-gold in color, and hawk-like.

Though he was much taller than you because of his long legs, in his face, he looked to be about your age, perhaps slightly older. He was slender and graceful in his movements, taking careful steps toward you as if not to scare you, though you didn’t think you could possibly be afraid of him.

“Aren’t you from the village?” He asked, his speaking voice as musical as his song suggested. “Won’t you be in trouble for coming into the woods? My parents say that humans are scared of the woods.”

“I’m not scared,” You said, puffing up. “Papa says I’m a big girl. I can go to the corner store all by myself now. I only came ‘cause I heard you singing.”

“Oh,” He said, frowning. “I must be too close, then. I should go.”

“Wait!” You reached out, grabbing his hand. “Stay and play with me, won’t you? What’s your name?”

“Geyarajan,” He replied, not attempting to break away from your grasp. “You’re the girl who lives in the house near the river, right? What’s your name?”

You told him. “How do you know me?”

“I’ve seen you sometimes,” He said, leading you to the rock where he was sitting before. There was a bushel of flowers laying there. He began to weave them into a ring. “When I fly above the town. I know you from the ribbons.” He tugged at the blue ribbon you wore in your hair, which matched your pristine dress. Your mother insisted on dressing you like a doll, always making you wear frilly dresses and putting ribbons in your hair.

“You can fly?” You whispered in awe.

“Well, sure,” He laughed, fluffing his wings a little. “These aren’t fake, you know. I have to fly pretty high, so the only thing I can see of you clearly is the ribbons.”

“Why do you fly so high?” You asked him.

“Mother says it’s too dangerous to fly too low over the town,” Geyarajan said. “She says the people don’t like us, that they’d be mean to us if they knew we lived in the forest next to them.”

“Oh. That’s a shame. If it’s dangerous, why don’t you move?”

“Our kind lived in these woods before those humans ever settled here,” He said, pointing toward the village. “Why should we have to leave?”

“That makes sense, I guess,” You admitted. “I don’t see people like you in town. It’s only humans. I don’t know why.”

“Mother and Father say it’s because humans hate us,” He said morosely, looking at his hands as he continued to weave the garland. “Do you hate us?”

“No!” You said. “You’re so pretty! Can I… Can I touch your wings? I’ve never met a person with wings before.”

He regarded you warily, but said, “Okay, but only for a minute. Mother says our wings are a sign of divinity, that they make us holy.”

“Divine? Like an angel?”

“What’s an angel?”

You tried to explain what an angel was to him, but he just looked confused.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Do you want to touch my wings or not?” He asked impatiently.

“Yes, yes!” You exclaimed. You reached out tentatively and ran your fingertips gently down his proffered wing. He watched you carefully, his hands stilling in their work.

“Wow,” You breathed. “It’s so hard to believe they’re real.”

“Well, they are,” He sniffed, eyeing you. “It’s weird.”

“What is?”

“Well, I’ve never met a human, but my parents said they’re all cruel and heartless. They call your kind monsters, but you seem nice.”

“I am nice,” You replied. “I’m friends with everyone in town. I want to be your friend, too. Can I call you Rajan?”

“Why?”

“It’s a nickname!” You said. “It means we’re friends.”

“Oh,” He replied. “Yeah, I guess so. Can I give you a nickname?”

“Sure!”

“Alright, how about…” He looked around for inspiration and his eyes fell on the flowers in his lap. There were wild daisies, coneflowers, purple poppies, blanket flowers, black-eyed susans, and blush-pink primroses. “What about Primrose?”

“I love it!” You said excitedly. “Primrose and Rajan.”

Rajan giggled.

“What’s funny?”

“Well, my whole name, Geyarajan, means ‘king of songs,’” He replied, finishing the crown of flowers and placing it on his head. “But Rajan just means ‘king.’”

You giggled too. “I like that! You can be the king of the primroses! It’ll be a kingdom just for us!”

“Sounds fun!” He said. “Let’s play Kings and Flowers, then!”

“That’s not a real game!”

“Is too! I just made it up!”

The two of you played until it started to get dark, then Rajan escorted you home. He stopped about thirty feet away from the treeline, where you could hear your mother calling.

“I can’t go closer,” He said, still wearing the flower crown. He took it off and placed it on your head. “You should run home now. I’ll watch you to make sure you stay safe.”

“Alright,” You said brightly, standing on your tip-toe to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you again soon!”

He blushed and touched his cheek, frozen. You laughed joyfully and ran back to the garden behind your house.

“There you are!” Your mother shouted as you came out from around the house. “Where have you been? Look at the state of your dress!” She fussed. “It’s ruined! Do you know how long it took me to sew that?”

“Just make me a normal dress, Mama,” You said. “A plain one I can play in.”

“Nonsense,” Your mother said, taking your hand. “I’ll not have my daughter wallowing in the muck like some street urchin. To the bath with you!”

As she dragged you along into the house, your lovely flower crown slipped from your head and floated away on the breeze.

“Oh, Mama, my crown!”

“Leave it,” She said.

“Oh, but it was--” You stopped short before saying a present. You didn’t want your mother asking from whom. You watched as it floated into the road and was trampled by a passerby. Sighing with disappointment, you followed your mother inside.

Geyarajan became your best friend from that day on. You had to be careful, though; you couldn’t go too deep into the forest for fear of dangerous creatures and he couldn’t get too close to the village, or he’d be seen and possibly captured by the townspeople. As such, you could only see each other once a week or so, and on the days you agreed to meet, often you’d sneak out to play for a few hours after bed.

Having a secret friend was thrilling. It made you feel special and important. He’d told you that he hadn’t told his parents about you, either, because he didn’t want them to be mad at him for getting so close to humans. It was as if the pretend kingdom the two of you built together was real, and you were the only two in it.

It didn’t take long at all for you to develop a crush on Geyarajan, and it seemed to be mutual. He always held your hand whenever the two of you walked together and you often gave him quick pecks on the lips to see the surprise and delight on his face. It was the pure, innocent love of childhood, and though your time together was limited, you were both happy.

Of course, secrets are never meant to last.

Time passed. One evening when you were eleven, after you’d snuck out to see him, the two of you were stargazing in a clearing, making up constellations, your fingers intertwined loosely.

“See there,” He said. “That’s the raven. It’s good luck.”

“Who says?” You asked, laughing.

“I say!” Rajan said. “I’m a king, aren’t I?”

“Oh, right,” You replied. “Papa calls that the eagle. And that’s the dog star.”

“Why do they call it the dog star?”

“I don’t know,” You said. “Tell me another one.”

He squinted. “I can’t see it all that well from here. I usually look at the stars from up in the trees. It’s harder to see them all clearly on the ground like this.”

“How high up do you go?”

“The top, obviously,” He said, sitting up and pointing straight up to a nearby oak tree. “The tallest, strongest branch. That’s the best place.”

“I’d be scared to go that high,” You said, shivering a little.

“I could help you,” He said. “I’d fly you up there.”

“Aren’t I too heavy?” You asked him skeptically. “I was the last time you tried to lift me.”

“That was a year ago! I’m much stronger now.” He hopped to his taloned feet and flexed his skinny arms. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

“Are you sure?” You asked as you took his hand.

“Come on, you trust me, right?”

You straightened up and smiled at him. “Yeah, of course I do.”

He grinned back. “I won’t be able to take off from the ground,” He said. “We’ll have to climb up a little ways so I can do a drop. I’m really good at those.”

You frowned at the thought, but since he knew way more about flying than you did, you didn’t argue. Swallowing down your nervousness, you followed him up the tree.

You hadn’t known how to climb a tree when you first met him; your mother had forbade such things. Geyarajan had decided immediately that it was inappropriate for anyone to be unable to climb a tree and taught you how to do it the second time you met. You got pretty scraped up the first few times, which you had a hard time explaining away. Now, you were an expert. You were even able to keep leaves and dirt off of your nightgown.

Of course, Geyarajan was much faster than you, since he’d been climbing trees before he could even walk. We was already on the branch he planned to launch from, waiting patiently for you to catch up. He wasn’t above heckling you, though.

“Are all humans as slow as you?” He teased. “I could be halfway to the coast by the time you get up here.”

You stopped for a moment to blow a raspberry at him. In the few seconds that you were distracted, you misstepped, your foot sliding out of your evening slipper and catching you off balance.

Geyarajan leapt, reaching out to catch you, but he was too late. You fell straight down, landing on your right leg. It snapped in half upon impact. The pain shot up your body and struck your brain, and you screamed like you never had before. Geyarajan landed next to you, panicking, trying to figure out what to do. You were crying too hard to speak.

“Hold on, Primrose, hold on,” He lifted you as carefully as he could and began to run through the woods. The pain and smell of blood made you violently sick. “I’m taking you home, just hold on.”

“No!” You managed to gasp. “You can’t go there!”

“I won’t be able to stay, but I can get you there, I promise,” He said.

“No!” You said, beginning to struggle, squealing as the movement made the pain worse. “They’ll kill you! You can’t go to the village!”

Geyarajan stopped in his tracks, breathing hard and looking toward the village and back into the forest.

“I’ll get into a lot of trouble, but there’s only one other place I can take you,” He said, sweating and shaking with fear. “Hold on to me. We’ll be there soon.”

What happened next was a blur of pain, color, noise, voices, and a terrible sick feeling throughout your body, the only familiar thing through all of it was the sound of Geyarajan’s voice and his hand holding yours. At some point, you blacked out completely.

You woke up to the sound of screaming. You were lying in the back garden of your own home, a large, grey feather in your hand, and your mother rushing over to you, checking you frantically.

“Oh, god, are you okay?!” She asked. “Where have you been? What happened to you?” She saw your leg and shrieked. “Who did this to you?!”

Her shouting had attracted the attention of several men, all of whom looked tired and held burned out torches. One of them dropped their spent torch and lifted you up, carrying you into the house. There was noise and shouting and confusion all around you, made worse by your mother’s constant shrill crying in the background. You let them do as they will in silence, clutching Geyarajan’s feather.

Your leg hurt, but nowhere as badly as it had before. You looked down and saw to your surprise that the leg had been wrapped set, wrapped in cloth to stem the bleeding, and was in a makeshift splint made of straight wooden rods and vines.

The physician was called and examined your leg. During this time, you learned you’d been missing for four days. The men with torches were part of the search party, tirelessly searching the woods for any trace of you. When they found blood on the grass and a fragment of your clothes, along with several large feathers, they thought some massive monster had gobbled you up.

The physician determined that your leg had been expertly set, however, meaning it was no monster that had taken you. Since you couldn’t remember most of your time missing, you kept silent, which made everyone grim-faced. They assumed the worst and decided someone had taken you and kept you in the woods somewhere, and you were so traumatized by the incident that you’d blocked the entire event out. You couldn’t exactly argue with them, but you knew Rajan would never hurt you. Not that you could tell them that.

The search began anew, only this time it wasn’t retrieval. It was revenge. You wished you could tell them that it wasn’t necessary, you wanted to stop them, but you couldn’t do anything without telling them about Rajan and his people, and you had promised never to do so. So you could only watch anxiously as the townsfolk worked themselves into a froth, looking for a predator that didn’t exist.

Bedridden and helpless to stop the villagers from their crusade, you spent many nights crying and wishing you could see Rajan. It was too dangerous now; you thought you wouldn’t see him for a long time. You were surprised when, a week later, Rajan came straight to your window late one night. He opened it and hopped down.

“Rajan!” You breathed, elated, and reached out your arms to embrace him from the bed. He stayed out of your reach. You couldn’t see his face well in this light, but his body radiated distrust.

“How could you?” He said whispered, pain seeping into his voice. “I thought you were my friend. How could you do this to me?”

You dropped your arms. “Wha… How could I what?”

“You know what!” He retorted angrily, his voice rising in anger. “You told them! You told the humans about us! You told them where to find us!”

“I didn’t!” You replied, stricken. “I would never, you know that! I never told them anything!”

“Liar!” He snapped. “Men came! They set fire to our colony! We have no home now because of you!”

You ignored the pain in your leg and swung around to sit up properly. “I didn’t tell them anything! I don’t even know where your colony is! I’ve never been there!”

“You’re lying! You were there! My parents cared for you, they fixed your leg! This is how you repay their kindness?”

“What?” You replied, confused. “I… no, I… I don’t… I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything. The last memory I have before waking up in the garden was you carrying me. We argued because I didn’t want you to come to the village. I was worried you’d get hurt--”

“Stop,” He said, raising a hand. “Enough of this. My parents were right. You can never trust a human.”

“Don’t say that! How could you have so little faith in me? We’ve been friends since we were little! I’d never do anything to put you or your family in danger, you know that! Why would I do that?”

The light from the moon caught his face, and the pain in his eyes stopped your heart.

“You tell me.”

He climbed up onto the windowsill, walked out on the roof, unfurled his wings, and took off. You fell to the ground with a loud thump. Your father came in to find you sobbing in anguish. He lifted you and put you back to bed, petting your hair and telling you it would be alright. But it wouldn’t.

You decided that once you were healed, you’d go and find Rajan and keep protesting your innocence until he believed you. You didn’t count on your parents’ plans.

Another week passed, and your mother came into your room.

“How are you feeling, love?” She asked.

You shrugged your shoulders. You’d been sullen and depressed since Rajan’s visit. Everyone assumed it was because of your disappearance and you made no attempt to correct them. The guilt of his family’s home being destroyed weighed heavily on your mind. If only you hadn’t tried to climb that tree.  

“I’m sorry, darling,” She said. “I can’t believe monsters were living right next door to us in the woods. It’s become too dangerous in this place. Look at what they did to you!”

“They helped me!” You shouted. “They’re not monsters!”

Your mother rounded on you, her face pinching in suspicion. “How would you know that? What do you know about them?”

You scowled at her and remained silent.

“I knew you were lying when you said you couldn’t remember anything.” She stood up and looked down her nose at you. “That does it. We’re moving to Dunmountain.”

“What?!” You cried. “No! I don’t want to move!”

“The decision has already been made,” She told you, pulling out your luggage and starting to pack. “Your father and I can’t abide those disgusting creatures living so close.”

“But there are people like them in the city!” You argued.

“There are rules for them there,” Your mother said. “Most of them are ring fighters or laborers. They don’t practically nest  in the backyards of decent people.”

“Who said you were decent?” You screamed. “You can’t make me go!”

“Who’s going to stop me?” She shouted back. “Your father has agreed. We’re going!” She threw your bag on the floor next to your bed. “Pack your things yourself!” With that, she turned and walked out, slamming the door behind her and leaving you to weep bitterly into your blanket.

You had no choice. Within the month, you were all packed and in a wagon headed to the city. You had become withdrawn and quiet, unlike the girl you had been before. Your father worried over you, but your mother told you to suck it up and get over it. New city, new life, new start.

She was more right than she knew. In the city, you were a new person. The cheerful child that was friends with everyone she met was gone. You were shy, introverted, and taciturn, only speaking when spoken to. You found it difficult to make friends and were quick to tears.

Your mother, in an effort to desensitize you to “monsters,” took you to the gladiator’s ring and made you watch them fight each other. You hated it; the sight of them viciously attacking each other for no other purpose than to entertain humans made you physically ill.

As you got older, the people of your neighborhood began to call you the monster girl because of your tendency to go to the ring and talk to the fighters. Just talk. Some of them were willing participants, but there were others who were forced to fight. People with debt, criminals, the homeless, the mentally ill; anyone society deemed abnormal. Their jailers seemed to forget that they were still people.

You’d often sit outside of their cells and talk to them, comfort them, even write down messages to give to their loved ones. Your mother despaired of you, and the humans thought you were weird, but the creatures of the fighting ring called you an angel.

One day, when you were nineteen, there was a new arrival at the jail, a young woman with wings and bird feet. When you were told, you immediately went to see her first.

“Hello?” You called softly, tapping gently on one of the bars.

“Who are you?” She asked.

You told her your name. “I come here to talk to the fighters and help them when I can. What’s your name?”

“Aashiyana,” She replied. “You can help me?”

“I can try,” You replied. “Why are you here?”

“I caught a deer in a field near my home,” She said. “It was apparently owned by a nobleman or something. What kind of person owns a deer?”

“People with too much money,” You replied, laughing. “How long is your sentence?”

“Until my fine is up. Six months, I think they said.”

“How much is the fine?”

“300 gold.”

“That’s highway robbery!” You exclaimed. “Let me see what I can work out.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that,” She said. “This city is stifling. I hate it here.”

“So do I,” You replied, standing. You were about to turn and leave, but you were compelled to ask. “By any chance, do you know a boy named Geyarajan?”

Aashiyana sat up straighter and peered at you. “I did know a boy by that name, yes.”

Your heart hammered in your throat. “Did?”

“He doesn’t go by that name anymore. His name is Gaveshan now.”

“Why did he change his name?” You asked.

“How do you know him?”

“He saved my life years ago. He… was my friend.”

Her eyes widened and jaw dropped. “Are you Primrose?”

Your expression matched hers. “Yes! How did you know about that?”

“We met!” She said, her eyes lighting up. “Your leg was broken and my mother set it. She was the colony’s healer. You stayed in the colony with us until she felt it was safe to move you.”

“I don’t remember,” You told her. “I don’t remember anything. I was with Rajan when I broke my leg, and then I passed out. When I woke up again, I was back home and I’d been missing for four days. I don’t know what happened during that time.”

Aashiyana frowned. “You don’t remember me at all?”

You shook your head sadly. “I’m sorry. What happened to the colony?” You asked her, putting a hand on hers around the bars. “Rajan told me that it was burned, but he didn’t give me any details.”

“Men came out of the forest with torches. They set fire to everything. We had to flee with nothing. Some didn’t make it.”

“Oh, god,” You said, covering your mouth in horror. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t fallen out of the tree…”

“Did you tell the men how to find us?”

“No! I swear I didn’t! I don’t even remember being there!” You said. “I swear, Aashiyana, I swear on my life.”

He deep brown eyes searched yours for a moment, a discerning look on her face, and she said, “I believe you.”

Your face crumpled as the tears began to flow. “Thank you.” You wiped your face on a handkerchief and straightened yourself. “Let me see what I can do for you. I’ll get you out of here.”

“Thank you,” She said.

It took some time, but you managed to make a deal with the judge. It was a lucky thing that your parents were in good standing with the stadium, as your father was a financier, so you were able to pull a few favors. You returned to Aashiyana’s cell three days later and directed the jailor to open the door.

“What’s happened?”

“I’ve made a deal,” You said. “You’re free of the fighting ring, but in exchange, you must work. I’ve made arrangements for you. I’ll tell you about it once we’re in the carriage.”

“Carriage?”

You took her by the arm. “Come on.”

Outside the jail, a carriage was indeed waiting for you. You opened the door and assisted her in getting inside, as the steps weren’t built for her large claws, and got inside after her. The carriage began to move.

“So what deal did you make?” She asked.

“You are to be my personal servant for the remainder of your sentence.”

She balked. “What makes you think I want to be a slave any more than a punching bag?”

“I have no intention of giving you any order,” You told her. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I’ll like you to take me to see Geyarajan. Or Gaveshan, I guess.”

“Do I have to stay with you?” She asked, eyeing you.

“Of course not,” You replied. “You’re free to go as soon as we get out of the city limits, as far as I’m concerned. I have no intention of ordering you around.”

“Can’t you get into trouble for this?”

“Of course. The penalty for assisting a criminal escape is taking their sentence plus five years.”

“If you know that’s going to happen when you come back, why would you do it?” She asked you, horrified.

“Simple. I’m not coming back.”

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[abcreid]

Wrong  Choice Ruins Everything (2)

Spencer Reid x Reader

Hey guys this is me posting a new story since June last year. I’m sorry for whoever wait for me to update something and sorry for the bad english. i might forgot some vocabs and ending up using the common word over and over. but i hope you enjoy! Inspires from Season 15 Episode 06 - Date Night.

Contains of Spoiler if you haven’t watch the episode.

Part 1

Masterlist

-

“Hey what’s up?” That was the first question he askes when he picked up his call. Emily perhaps. “All right i’ll be right in.” “Uh-huh. All right. Understood.”

He hung up the call, turn back facing you eating the pancake you made in the tiny kitchen in your and Spencer’s apartment. Judging by his face, something wrong happened at BAU. “What happen? New case?”

“Yup.” He took his coat and kissed my forehead. “I gotta go.” Then he kissed your big tummy. Well actually he tried to kissed you and his soon to be daughter. You’re 8 months pregnant and you took your sabbatical because you weren’t in shape to be a field agent anf lately you felt more tired than you ever be. And now you just sitting silently at home waiting for your husband to come home.

“Call me when you get there. Say hi for everyone okay?” Spencer smiled and closed the door behind him. You sighed. You really missed being at BAU but your body couldn’t take any fatigue or you fainted.

Meanwhile at BAU, Spencer walked in hurry to brief room and met Rossi and Emily. “Catch me up.”

“Early this morning, Garcia got an email from an anonymous server.” She pointing remote to the monitor and the picture of a woman between an old man and a young girl. “She’s not obscuring her face, telling us she’s got nothing to hide.”

“Any ideas on the victims or unsub?” Spencer asked.

“No, Only the unsub's demand. That we release Catherine Adams in 24 hours.” Emily handed him files of Cat Adams. “I'm having her transferred here for questioning, but we have no illusions. This is just a game to her. We know that. “ She hesitated. “The question is, do we want to play it or not?”

Right now, Spencer was speechless. He thought his life would be happy without anyone’s shadow.

The rest of the team gathered in front of the glass door to see Cat Adams being escourted to the interrogation room.

“She's a contract killer?” Simmons asked. Garcia nodded. “Yeah. But she’s much, much more than that, too.” ”She's a black widow. She preys on men she can seduce. She thrives on psychological seduction.” JJ added.

Tara explained more to Simmons. “She's one of the most dangerous criminals we've ever arrested, and she is obsessed with Reid. He's the only man to ever outsmart her.”

“Oh, and don’t forget the part that she’s YN cousin.” The way Garcia said it made Simmons gaped in disbelief. “Long short story Cat went missing for 10 years accorded to YN then Spencer tried to outsmart Cat and she got arrested, she met YN outside the restaurant. Bla bla bla she hated YN so bad and vice versa. OH and you remembered when Reid got arrested in Mexico when you were still in IRT? It was all Cat’s game to destroy YN and Spencer. I feel bad to YN. She’s very strong.”

“Did she knew about this?” Luke asked. Everyone just shrugged. “I can’t imagine being pregnant and this thing came up from nowhere. I hope she already knew it.”

at the same time, Spencer lean against the wall in the interrogating room facing the only Cat Adams, who tried to ruin his life multiple times.

Cat started to smirked. “Classic negotiating technique. First one who speaks loses, right?”

“You arranged the kidnapping of two people and you did it the same way you did it before, through a partner on the outside. But her demand, "release Cat Adams," that will never happen. So, tell me what you want right now, before I send you back to prison.” Spencer started to outraged.

“Calm down, Spencie. I would like to go on a date with you. I want to look pretty and i want to have fun.”

“The only date that I'll be there for is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.”

Then Cat laughed. “I hear a wedding bells right know. Did you hear it too?” Her eyes spotted a gold ring in his finger. “Is that a ring from 4 years ago? When you said you wanted me to kill your pregnant wife, do you still mean it until today?”

“How did you... don’t you ever dare to touch YN.” He yelled and slammed the door. He ran to the conference room and the theam already there to discuss about the case. “It has something to do with YN. I don’t want to burden her with all of this.”

-

An hour later YN was picked up by JJ and Simmons. They didn’t tell her the reason because they didn’t want to frightened her.

“YN,” Spencer greeted her at the elevator when it reached level 6. “I’m sorry to involved you but this is important.” He lead you to the conference room and you could see a familiar picture at the monitor. “Do you recognice those people on that picture?”

You frowned. Not because you angry or something, but you confused. “Yeah, that’s... uh... George on the left and i think she’s her daughter Millie. And i had no idea who’s the girl between them.” You can read Spencer’s face that he need more explication. “They’re Catherine’s relatives from his dad. Wait, is this something to do with her? What happened? Did she tried to hurt them?

You started to panicked and Spencer hugged you. “Don’t worry honey, everything is controlled.”

“Do you know her?” Garcia came from nowhere and gave you a flyer.

“That was Susan, her mom. What the hell?” You pulled out from his hug and smelled something suspicious. “Tell me what is going on or i will walked by myself to where Catherine is.”

Spencer explained everything he could while Garcia held youd shoulders. You breathed heavily and tried to processed everthing Spencer said. JJ offered you mineral water and you drank it.

“I let you twice near that hit woman, Spencer. That Mexico event was really hit me hard.” Your tears start to fall from your eyes. “I want to see her now.”

“YN, YN please listen to me,” Garcia interupped you. “You are 8 months pregnant and it much bigger than watermelon sweety. You have to rest and you can’t be stressfull and i don’t want something happen to my beautiful god daughter.”

Emily finally let you to see Cat.

You opened the door and saw her smirked.

“That belly is very big, YN.” Her glare really want to make you puke. “So you are the pregnant wife Spencie told me 4 years ago at Harry & Glenn’s Grill and Bar.”

“What are you up to? You really sacrificed your family for your own sake. Sound really desperate at the end of your life.” You pull the chair and sit. “You were manipulative, right at 14 years ago, you convinced me to steal money from your dad and i did it. You were vengeful to your ex’s new girlfriend and you almost killed her. Just like what you did to Spencer in Mexico. We were months away of getting married and somehow you at the prison knew shit and tried to tear us apart by made Spencer went to jail, then made someone kidnapped my mother in law. And now, you really want to take away my husband, don’t you? Why you didn’t try harder... like kidnapped me, tortured me, or even killed me?”

She silenced for a while. “I would never do that to you. I didn’t want to hurt Spencer either.” “You should tell Garcia to check her email.”

You went out and watched the video that sent to Garcia’s mail. 

“We have fewer than 12 hours left. I don't think she'll fire blanks again.” Emily worried. “If we give Cat what she wants, we can profile what she says on the date.” She looked at you begging. “She always trips up. She always reveals her Achilles heel. And she always does it with Spencer. Please YN, this is the only way.”

-

She held your husband’s arm and walked confidently to the lift. But before they reach the elevator, they stopped right in front of you who stood alone while holding your belly. Cat signed him and he took of the ring off his finger and handed it to you.

“Don’t wait up.” Then they entered the elevator leaving you crying.

tags:  @chocok22 , @cynbx, @literallyprentissstwin, @literallyreid, @princessjellyfishbitch, @eideticreid, @saltedfire, @everyday-imfangirling, @stories-you-wont-hear, @dontshootmespence, @pandedios-carli @spencerreiddaily @spencerreidreads @spence-imagines @reid-effect @lil-loki @bloodylollipopkid @starsshines-blog @photogrxphinggg @queenofthehobos @twosaylorghosts @yukitsubute @thatwrestlingfan91 @qu3n-elizab3th @romee125 @scatchia@nomajdetective @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @xocriminal-minds-imaginesxo @supernatural-dolan

[ijustwant2write]

‘We’ve both had a shitty day, so let’s just stay in and cuddle.’-Tony Stark x Reader

(GIF credit to @fyeahmarvel)

Requested by anonymous

Summary: ‘Hi idk if you are taking requests but if so, can you write something along the lines of "we've both had a shitty day so let's just stay in and cuddle in silence and enjoy each others presence" for Tony? Thanks!’

Characters: Tony Stark x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: FLUFF

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

My pen tapped against my desk, desperate to come up with an idea for this newly planned building. I had to come up with a design for a swanky, modern looking museum; it was only the rough draft but nothing came to mind. Whenever I started something, I would look back to my research, finding that I had basically copied the pictures I printed off for inspiration. Groaning to myself, I sink back into my chair, rubbing a hand down my face. This was my dream job, I absolutely loved working here, but right now I was a standstill and it was frustrating me to no end.

Reaching for my phone, I checked the time, smiling at the lock screen. It was of Tony, he hadn't known I was taking a picture as he worked in his lab, focusing all his attention on a helmet. I still had two more hours at work, needing to come up with something soon. I decided to take a few minutes to myself, heading out of my office to the staff room. A colleague of mine, Susan, stood waiting for the coffee to brew. We greeted each other, though it was half hearted on her side, her attention on the TV. After setting my mug beside hers, I watched too, suddenly wishing that I had stayed in the office.

"Another meeting was held today with Tony Stark and the board of governors, for their discussion about the protocols needed to protect Earth. However it is reported that the superhero lost his temper over the debate, storming out of the meeting before collapsing."

Susan glanced at me, though my eyes were glued to the TV. Of course everyone knew that he and I were in a relationship, so times like this could be awkward; everyone had their own opinions, most kept to themselves though there was always one that had to speak out.

"Hey, you OK?" she asked.

"Yeah...uh, I gotta call him."

Dashing out of the room, I went back to my office, dialing Tony's number along the way. It rang a few times before he picked up, and I was relieved he was answering.

"Tony, are you alright? I saw what happened on the news." I rushed.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It just got a bit too much, that's all." he replied, his voice drab.

"Thank god. I'll come home now."

"No, no don't worry about me. They checked me over, I'm fine. It's just that the human body can't run on coffee alone. Apparently it needs actual food and sleep, did you know that?"

His sarcasm was a good sign."Funnily enough, I did. If you're sure..."

"(Y/N), I've got Jarvis here, he'll alert you if anything happens, which it won't."

I sighed."OK, OK. I'll text you when I'm coming back. I love you loads."

"I love you too."

I knew not to pry into the situation yet. He was under so much stress, too much stress. And I wanted to speak to him in person. Reluctantly hanging up, I picked up my office phone instead, calling my manager, hoping I could get an early leave.

"Hello?"

"Hey Jerry, it's (Y/N). There's been an emergency at home and I was just wondering if I could get off a little early today? I'll make it up during the week, I promise."

"No can do (Y/N). I need you to stay later actually."

I tried to remain polite."Have you seen the news? Tony collapsed and-"

"Yes I have. Is he fine now?"

"Well, physically yes-"

"Then I'll keep you tonight. This is a big project for the company, and we can't afford to lose any time on it."

“You know what he’s been through, he shouldn’t be alone after something like this.”

“(Y/N), if you want to switch careers and be his carer, be my guest. However, if you want to keep your job, you’ll stay late and come up with an idea that will blow the board away.”

I couldn’t risk losing my job. Well, I could, Tony would look after me, but that wasn’t the point; I worked hard for this position, I earned it, and although it pained me to say it, I couldn’t lose it over this.

“Yes sir, sorry, just...just worried about him.”

“I understand, but I wouldn’t keep you if I didn’t need you.”

Somehow that conversation pushed me to get the job done. I knew I would be able to leave early, even if I finished the project and reviewed it a hundred times. But having it done sooner rather than later would settle my mind. I kept repeating to myself that Tony was fine (for the most part), he would be busying himself in his lab, distracting himself with his machinery or just being the genius he was. Before I started brain storming, I had messaged Happy, wondering why he hadn’t messaged me when this all kicked off, hopefully nothing had happened to him too But he replied with that was his orders from Tony, as not to worry me. I could never understand that about him, he still kept to himself sometimes, to ‘spare me the burden’. He was never a burden, ever!

When eight o’clock finally rolled round, I smiled, letting out a deep breath as I looked over my work. Everything was done, everything was where it needed to be. Filing my work away, I grabbed my things before exiting the now dark office, my pace quick as I texted Tony. At last, I could see my man and take care of him.

I had never parked up at home so fast in my life. Slipping off my heels, I scurried across the cold floor of the garage, dumping my bag on the couch and then running to Tony’s lab. Just as I had thought, he was sat in his lab, though he was nursing his head with an ice pack. Calming myself down, I opened the door, smiling as he turned to face me.

“Hi.” I softly whispered out.

He greeted me with a gentle kiss, holding me close with his free arm. I hugged him back, suddenly feeling tired from the day.

“Did you hit you head when you collapsed?” I asked, looking at the ice pack.

“Yeah, it’s not too bad. Mostly the stress.” He mumbled, setting the ice pack down.“How about your day? You didn’t happen to faint over anything did you?”

“No, not today. I just hate that they kept me late, I don’t understand why I’m the only person on the project as of now. Makes no sense.”

“Hey, it’s OK.” he kissed the top of my head.“At least they’re seeing the potential in you that I do.”

I giggled.“God, you’re so cheesy.”

“Hey, give me a break. I had a crap day without you beside me.”

“Isn’t that just everyday?”

“Oh, now you’re getting smart?”

“You’re not staying down here all night are you?” there was a hint of worry in my tone of voice.

“Well, I had reason to, until you came home.”

I scoffed a laugh, Tony laughing with me.“How hard did you hit your head?”

His usual joking manner came back.“I mean, I can stop at any moment, I just thought-”

I shook my head.“No, no, no, I’d like you stay like this a little longer please.”

“Alright,” he dragged out the word,“just for you.”

The rest of the night was thankfully peaceful. We had ordered take out, drank a bottle of wine between us, and ended up in bed like an old, married couple; and just like old people, we fell asleep straight away. When I woke, the peace had remained, Tony looking relaxed as he stirred awake. We cuddled tighter together, both still half asleep.

“You in work today?” Tony’s voice was raspy.

“Nope.” I simply replied.

“I have an amazing idea.”

“Go on Mr Stark, present your idea to the board.” I rubbed my eyes, trying not to fall asleep again.

“Well, we’ve both had a shitty day, so let’s just stay in and cuddle.”

“Hm, hold up, we must deliberate.” I paused for a few seconds.“We have come to a decision. We will accept your idea and put it into motion straight away.”

“Oh, the theatrics are too much this early.”

I slowed looked over my shoulder.“Tony, it’s twelve in the afternoon.” 

“Exactly.”

“But in all seriousness, I think that’s the plan for the day. How’s your head?”

“It’s fine. But let’s not talk about yesterday. Let’s just be together, whether we’re silent or not, and enjoy each other’s presence.”

“I don’t think that should be too hard.”

“Alright then, we will start right about....now.”

[coffeebased]

Hey! Wikathon na! I’ve started reading Relocations by Karen Tongson, about a third through now, but I had to take a little detour through Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir like I said I would. I’ve finished reading HtN but I’m not quite done experiencing it, so I’ll probably pick Relocations back up tomorrow.

But here’s what I read in July! What’s a segue?

1. Haikyu!! Volume 44 and 45 by Haruichi Furudate

A chance event triggered Shouyou Hinata’s love for volleyball. His club had no members, but somehow persevered and finally made it into its very first and final regular match of middle school, where it was steamrolled by Tobio Kageyama, a superstar player known as “King of the Court.”

Vowing revenge, Hinata applied to the Karasuno High School volleyball club… only to come face-to-face with his hated rival, Kageyama!

And with those two volumes, Haikyū has ended. I’m really glad that my cousin got me to catch up to the series because being a part of the sheer joy and love that’s poured out the fandom these past few months has been refreshing to my spirit. I enjoyed the way Furudate brought the series to its conclusion, by giving all the characters a future and room to grow. I hope to hear more from him in the upcoming years.

  2. Looking for Group by Alexis Hall

I read Looking for Group because I was reading up on Alexis Hall in anticipation of Boyfriend Material, which I will talk about later, and saw the synopsis:

So, yeah, I play Heroes of Legend, y’know, the MMO. I’m not like obsessed or addicted or anything. It’s just a game. Anyway, there was this girl in my guild who I really liked because she was funny and nerdy and a great healer. Of course, my mates thought it was hilarious I was into someone I’d met online. And they thought it was even more hilarious when she turned out to be a boy IRL. But the joke’s on them because I still really like him.

And now that we’re together, it’s going pretty well. Except sometimes I think Kit—that’s his name, sorry I didn’t mention that—spends way too much time in HoL. I know he has friends in the guild, but he has me now, and my friends, and everyone knows people you meet online aren’t real. I mean. Not Kit. Kit’s real. Obviously.

Oh, I’m Drew, by the way. This is sort of my story. About how I messed up some stuff and figured out some stuff. And fell in love and stuff.

And I knew that I had to read it. Immediately.

I enjoyed it way too much. The characters were adorable, the conflict was done well, the geeky gamer wrapper was AMAZING and the author never dropped the ball on integrating the online game into the narrative. It was very readable and I enjoyed the atmosphere of the book immensely. I also may have spent a heady week or so thinking of playing WoW, but I avoided that temptation. Made me miss uni too, and the way my friends and I would spend countless hours with each other.

  3. Boyfriend Material by Alexis Hall

Wanted: One (fake) boyfriend Practically perfect in every way

Luc O’Donnell is tangentially–and reluctantly–famous. His rock star parents split when he was young, and the father he’s never met spent the next twenty years cruising in and out of rehab. Now that his dad’s making a comeback, Luc’s back in the public eye, and one compromising photo is enough to ruin everything.

To clean up his image, Luc has to find a nice, normal relationship…and Oliver Blackwood is as nice and normal as they come. He’s a barrister, an ethical vegetarian, and he’s never inspired a moment of scandal in his life. In other words: perfect boyfriend material. Unfortunately apart from being gay, single, and really, really in need of a date for a big event, Luc and Oliver have nothing in common. So they strike a deal to be publicity-friendly (fake) boyfriends until the dust has settled. Then they can go their separate ways and pretend it never happened.

But the thing about fake-dating is that it can feel a lot like real-dating. And that’s when you get used to someone. Start falling for them. Don’t ever want to let them go.

I came into this book with high expectations after Looking for Group, and my expectations were mostly met. The few issues I had were ultimately negligible, probably cultural differences or conventions of a genre that I’m not familiar with. The characters were strong, and I found the book funny. I know it sounds as though I’m damning it with faint praise, so I’ll say it plainly: it was an enjoyable read and I was totally invested in the romance. I think it’ll make a really good film as well.

4. The Subtweet by Vivek Shraya

Everyone talks about falling in love, but falling in friendship can be just as captivating. When Neela Devaki’s song is covered by internet-famous artist Rukmini, the two musicians meet and a transformative friendship begins. But as Rukmini’s star rises and Neela’s stagnates, jealousy and self-doubt creep in. With a single tweet, their friendship implodes, one career is destroyed, and the two women find themselves at the center of an internet firestorm.

Celebrated multidisciplinary artist Vivek Shraya’s second novel is a stirring examination of making art in the modern era, a love letter to brown women, an authentic glimpse into the music industry, and a nuanced exploration of the promise and peril of being seen.

If you’re a millennial and if you’ve ever had complicated friendships, this book will ring really true for most of it, I think. I kept wincing at the characters’ actions and “mistakes”, recognising them as things I or my friends have done, but there are portions of the story that I found inaccessible because Neela, the main character, just seems really opaque even when they’re the ones speaking. The music Shraya made as a companion to the book slaps and can be found here.

  5. Empowered 11 by Adam Warren

Costumed crimefighter Empowered finds herself the desperate prey of a maniacal supervillain whose godlike powers have turned an entire city of suprahumans against her.

Not good! Outnumbered and under siege, aided only by a hero’s ghost, can Emp survive the relentless onslaught long enough to free her enslaved teammates and loved ones, or is this–*gulp*–The End?

From comics overlord Adam Warren comes Empowered, the acclaimed sexy superhero comedy–except when it isn’t, as in this volume’s no-nonsense, wall-to-wall brawl guaranteed to bring tears to the eye and fists to the face!

Warren’s tying up a lot of loose ends and answering a lot of questions and I’m wondering if that means Empowered‘s ending soon. I haven’t seen any info regarding this, even though the words “The End” are right there in the summary, because comic books always lean on the whole the hero could die! thing, and more often than not they never do. But Emp has come so far in the past 11 volumes, and I think that she’s ready to confront a lot of the stuff that Warren’s only hinted at in the past. Most of Empowered is about how Emp deals with failure and how she rises above it, and recently it’s become about how other people have failed her, rather than how she has failed, and how she deserves better. I’m worried about her, but at least we are another volume’s worth of evidence for the Emp/Thugboy/Ninjette OT3.

  6. Sex and Vanity by Kevin Kwan

The iconic author of the bestselling phenomenon Crazy Rich Asians returns with a glittering tale of love and longing as a young woman finds herself torn between two worlds–the WASP establishment of her father’s family and George Zao, a man she is desperately trying to avoid falling in love with.

On her very first morning on the jewel-like island of Capri, Lucie Churchill sets eyes on George Zao and she instantly can’t stand him. She can’t stand it when he gallantly offers to trade hotel rooms with her so that she can have the view of the Tyrrhenian Sea, she can’t stand that he knows more about Curzio Malaparte than she does, and she really can’t stand it when he kisses her in the darkness of the ancient ruins of a Roman villa and they are caught by her snobbish, disapproving cousin, Charlotte. “Your mother is Chinese so it’s no surprise you’d be attracted to someone like him,” Charlotte teases. Daughter of an American-born-Chinese mother and blue-blooded New York father, Lucie has always sublimated the Asian side of herself in favor of the white side, and she adamantly denies having feelings for George. But several years later, when George unexpectedly appears in East Hampton where Lucie is weekending with her new fiancé, Lucie finds herself drawn to George again. Soon, Lucy is spinning a web of deceit that involves her family, her fiancé, the co-op board of her Fifth Avenue apartment, and ultimately herself as she tries mightily to deny George entry into her world–and her heart. Moving between summer playgrounds of privilege, peppered with decadent food and extravagant fashion, Sex and Vanity is a truly modern love story, a daring homage to A Room with a View, and a brilliantly funny comedy of manners set between two cultures.

This was the third romance novel I read in July, and that’s honestly the highest concentration of romance novel I’ve ever had in my life. I know that I’m supposed to find romance novels like super kilig and stuff, but so far I am just very anxious for romance novel protagonists all the time. I think that the whole thing about the romance novels I have read is that they’re mostly about how deeply anxious people learn how to allow themselves to be loved and that is tough! I wanted to protect Lucie all the time! I was Invested in her Welfare, and I don’t think I cared about Rachel Chu from Crazy Rich Asians half as much, even if you condensed all my attachment from the entire trilogy. Also, small spoiler, there is a hint that Sex and Vanity is in the same universe as Crazy Rich Asians, which I think is awesome.

  6. Trust Exercise by Susan Choi

Pulitzer Finalist Susan Choi’s narrative-upending novel about what happens when a first love between high school students is interrupted by the attentions of a charismatic teacher

In an American suburb in the early 1980s, students at a highly competitive performing arts high school struggle and thrive in a rarified bubble, ambitiously pursuing music, movement, Shakespeare, and, particularly, their acting classes. When within this striving “Brotherhood of the Arts,” two freshmen, David and Sarah, fall headlong into love, their passion does not go unnoticed—or untoyed with—by anyone, especially not by their charismatic acting teacher, Mr. Kingsley.

The outside world of family life and economic status, of academic pressure and of their future adult lives, fails to penetrate this school’s walls—until it does, in a shocking spiral of events that catapults the action forward in time and flips the premise upside-down. What the reader believes to have happened to David and Sarah and their friends is not entirely true—though it’s not false, either. It takes until the book’s stunning coda for the final piece of the puzzle to fall into place—revealing truths that will resonate long after the final sentence.

As captivating and tender as it is surprising, Trust Exercise will incite heated conversations about fiction and truth, friendships and loyalties, and will leave readers with wiser understandings of the true capacities of adolescents and of the powers and responsibilities of adults.

This is a book I could not stop reading and I felt gross after I finished it. I think that I enjoyed it and that the narrative flips were well-done and it was engaging, but Choi writes teenage trauma in 3D, and you can smell her scumbag characters. Very good will never read again unless looking to feel bad.

  Re-read:

Temeraire: His Majesty’s Dragon, Throne of Jade, Black Powder War, andEmpire of Ivory by Naomi Novik

Aerial combat brings a thrilling new dimension to the Napoleonic Wars as valiant warriors ride mighty fighting dragons, bred for size or speed. When HMS Reliant captures a French frigate and seizes the precious cargo, an unhatched dragon egg, fate sweeps Captain Will Laurence from his seafaring life into an uncertain future – and an unexpected kinship with a most extraordinary creature. Thrust into the rarified world of the Aerial Corps as master of the dragon Temeraire, he will face a crash course in the daring tactics of airborne battle. For as France’s own dragon-borne forces rally to breach British soil in Bonaparte’s boldest gambit, Laurence and Temeraire must soar into their own baptism of fire.

I started re-reading it because I wanted to introduce it to my girlfriend, and I outpaced her very quickly, and selfishly. She’s still at the beginning fourth of Throne of Jade, and I feel like I blinked and gulped down four of the books in quick succession. I had to stop myself after Empire, in a very belated effort to sync up to my gf’s progress. The series is amazing, and I don’t know if I’ll ever read one like Temeraire again. Being able to revisit it should be enough, really, because every time I do it’s as though I’m caught up in a strong and wonderful wind that fills me up with delight and awe. Novik’s starting a new series this September, and I hope it’s just as good.

    That’s it for July! I’m probably going to do two books at a time for my Wikathon posts, just to keep things fresh and current, so keep a weather eye out for those posts!

  July, next verse, same as the first Hey! Wikathon na! I've started reading Relocations by Karen Tongson, about a third through now, but I had to take a little detour through…

[junkyardbluebox]

An Unearthly Convention

I had to leave this con a bit earlier than planned, but I had such a blast!

All the fans I chatted with were great. Some had some awesome costumes too. I saw a Cyberman, quite a few folks dressed as the 13th and 4th Doctors, and a girl cosplaying as Susan in An Unearthly Child with an uncanny resemblance to Carole Ann Ford. People were sharing Doctor Who-themed ribbons to tack onto your badges. There were two K9s playing in the hotel corridors ...

Here’s one of them now!

Speaking of the hotel, things were a bit crazy due to extensive renovations going on. The lobby was reduced to pretty much nothing, but there were quite a few tables set up for people to sit and eat (and chat). I loved the format of this con so much, though. I’ve attended Creation cons in the past for Stargate and Supernatural, and this is nothing like them. It’s so much more laid back and you get more access to the guests. It’s not unusual to run into them walking around and stop and have a nice chat with them. Not long after I arrived and got my badge, I saw Katy and Frazer walking around on separate occasions, then then saw Louise who smiled and gave me a little “hello.” I also saw Paul McGann when I went to get something to eat in the restaurant, sitting at a nearby table with a couple of people.

I didn’t get to meet all of them, but the ones I did meet were wonderful. Louise is really sweet. Katy is so energetic and inspirational, and she gives great hugs. Frazer is lovely and has such a great sense of humor. John Leeson was also very sweet. During the autograph session he asked where I was from and told me how wonderful it is that people have come from all over to attend this convention.

I got two photo ops, one with Frazer and the other with John and K9. I lined up early for the first as I remember the lines at Creation conventions forming quickly (and being very long). I wasn’t expecting to be the first one and was a bit nervous, but Frazer is so friendly and approachable. He gave me a warm “Hello” and even asked if I could fix his jacket collar for him before we had the photo taken. He then asked “Can I put my arm around you?” I said “Of course!” He was really sweet and thanked me once the photo was taken. I paid extra for an electronic version but I scanned the actual photo to post here. Warning: I do not photograph well. He looks great, though.

After my photo op was done I went to get autographs from him, Katy and Louise. Louise looked up at me and said “Hello! ...Again!” She was very sweet and soft-spoken. When I got Katy’s autograph, before she could sign anything she had to give me a big hug. I told her it was my first DW convention and she said “Really?” I told her I was enjoying it and she said one thing she always loved about them is how everyone just gets to be themselves at them. She said she hopes she sees me at many more conventions (and that she herself gets invited back for them!).

When I went to get Frazer’s autograph I wanted to ask him if he’d brought any of those new 2nd Doctor and Jamie figures with him, but I didn’t see anything at his table apart from the photos so I assumed he didn’t have any.

I think I love John Leeson’s autograph the best. I thought his message was so cute so I had to post it here...

And here’s my photo op with John and K9:

I went to Katy’s panel, which was supposed to highlight all her different voice work but they talked about a slew of different subjects. She was asked what her least favorite outfit to wear on Doctor Who was. She named a couple but one that sticks in my mind is the one from The Sea Devils - the white outfit she wore there. She said that once it got wet it shrunk something terribly. She also mentioned she’d made her voice a bit higher when she played Jo, but every so often she’d lose that and Jon Pertwee would tell her she’d sound like “the lorry driver” again. A few pics from her panel:

My pictures here aren’t too bad as I was standing up in back (the room was pretty small and was packed). Sadly I have to leave her panel about halfway through since I had the photo op with John at the time, but I did enjoy what I did get to see of it.

I then attended Frazer’s (called “The Animated Man” as it was supposed to be about the lost animated episodes). I got a closer seat for that one, but for some reason my camera decided to focus more on the people in front of me than on him. These are the best pics I could get:

I should say that the camera doesn’t do him justice. In person he’s got this very nice, youthful spark (which goes perfect with his sense of humor). He was asked about the animated episodes and he mentioned a few interesting things about The Macra Terror. The Macra was a huge and very expensive prop, and you had to literally throw yourself into it to make it look like it was attacking you. He also mentioned that he and Michael Craze had to wear this ugly orange uniform with tight Bermuda shorts. He said the animator told him “We thought it was gray” and he told them “no it was orange.”

It was mentioned that Fury from the Deep will be animated in the future and he was asked about filming it. He mentioned how cold it was when they were on location at that beach and that his knees turned blue. He also told a funny story of when they were going to do the helicopter scene. Deborah Watling told him she was afraid of heights and asked if she could get into the helicopter first and then he and Patrick could sit on either side of her. Frazer told her “Of course,” but then she looks up to find him sprinting towards the helicopter and she started shouting “You swine!!”

Interestingly he mentioned that TPTB don’t like anyone going on social media to announce anything about these episodes being done, but he did say he recently went back to the filming location with some other guy, which I’m guessing will be included with the DVD in the future. He also mentioned a few other filming stories, like Evil of the Daleks (with the “up your passage, Victoria” joke... they showed a pic of the Dalek Emporer and he remarked that it’s wearing a brassiere, LOL), the origin of the “look at the size of that, Doctor”-“Yes Jamie, it’s a big one” joke, and about how they filmed in Seville for The Two Doctors.

He mentioned he would have loved to have seen The Highlanders animated since it’s only 4 episodes and there’s no monster in it that would have people saying “Oh that doesn’t look like a Dalek (or Cyberman, etc.).” A fan asked what his favorite story was to film and he said of course The Highlanders. They mentioned one of his earlier roles in a show called The Jacobites (and that interestingly it’s available on DVD only in Germany). It was pointed out that there’s a current theme in the shows he’s done with time travel and Scotland: that show, Doctor Who and Outlander.

And finally there was a really sweet moment where someone mentioned Jamie and Victoria’s goodbye scene at the end of Fury from the Deep and how powerful it was. He said that it wasn’t really acting, it was from the heart because they felt so badly Debbie was going to be leaving. His panel was very entertaining.

I was going to stay for the 4th Doctor panel with Louise and John, but by the time I got back there the room was full. Hopefully someone else has written up an account of what was said.

Although I wasn’t there as long as I would have hoped, I had a wonderful time. I’d love to go back next year if it’ll be on again.

[cheapjerseysusonline-blog]

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[a-shakespearean-in-paris]

Writer’s Questionnaire

tagged by @galadrieljones! Thanks! :)

Short stories, novels, or poems? I write a lot of short scenes, but I prefer reading novels as well as writing them. It’s so fun to see how your character grows and changes, how they develop, and how things you thought would happen don’t, or happen in a way different from what you imagined. It’s wonderful, though difficult. (Constantly I have to ask myself have I used this turn of phrase in the story before?)

What genre do you prefer reading? Looking at the books that caught my interest of late, (and in general) the stuff I read has some sort of family dynamic present. More often than not, there’s also a love story. Typically my favorite books are sagas that take place over different generations. (thorn birds one of them, and when I was younger and read a lot of Sidney Sheldon, one of my favorites of his was Master of the game, which took place over fifty years of family. my older self though now really likes Rage of Angels...I would love to like modernize that story...) My dream is to write a long family saga one day.

What genre do you prefer writing? there’s no contest: Romance. I was once very adamant about not using that word due to the stigma behind the romance genre, very keen on...a story about two people who happen to be in love! But you know..it’s romance. I’m just endlessly fascinated by the different ways people can fall in love, and how their love manifests and effects others. 

Are you a planner or a write-as-I-go kind of person? Hmmmm.....a little of both. With Our Immortal longings I made an outline of events, but things changed, shifted around, or flat out didn’t happen. Back in the day I was very strict on following the outline I wrote, but now I’ve finally found the happy medium of following it but understanding the story is going in a different direction. I think one of the reasons my modern AU is stagnant right now is because I didn’t make an outline.

What music do you listen to while writing? Usually I don’t. However, there are a few scenes I have written throughout my resume where there was a song I replayed over and over again, because it just fit the mood. So now when I listen to one of those songs, all I can think about is the scene. :)

Fave books/movies? Hmmm I have books that have meant a lot to me over the years. East by Edith Pattou (which now has a sequel. Like..wha?) The Thorn Birds by Colleen McCoullogh, Phantom by Susan Kay. I also love so many plays. Of course Shakespeare, but also Anton Chekhov. 

Movies: Howl’s Moving Castle is arguably my biggest inspiration. And when I watched gone with the wind when I was 12 I swear it changed me. I wasn’t used to seeing female characters being so unapologetic, and while I certainly don’t idolize Scarlett O’hara, I find her endlessly interesting as a character. Some other favorites are The Sound of Music, That Hamilton Woman, Wuthering Heights(1939), Bridesmaids. And I saw the new A Star is Born and it’s on my eternal favorites list.

Any current WIPs? My DBH fic has become my main focus, Our Immortal Longings. (Which I would really love to shorten to Immortal Longings but hey what can you do.) I also have a post blight fic with cullen, that details the relationship he develops with one of the chantry sisters. I also have a modern AU with Cullen and Lydia. I like the fic in theory, and I was experimenting away from the romantic feel of my previous work to something blunter and more realistic (for lack of a better word.) But I just feel for Connor’s character when I played DBH, and I really wanted to tackle how he would deal with falling in love. In the process I seriously became enamored with my own OC and the dynamic she has with him. Odd because I was never interested in robots or stories about robots before...but now...well....look at all the possibilities! 

also I had a MGIT story about a Shakespearean actress. I’m sorry to those who liked the story, but I’m not going to continue with it.

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you, what would your standard outfit be? A pink colored sundress decorated with flowers, and ballet flats. My hair is big and curly.

Create a character description for yourself: She was alive. That was always good, though perhaps not in the best of her appearances with her glasses on, face unmade and hair in a messy bun. She was also wearing one of her dumpy nightshirts. But again, she was alive, and she was writing. Every single word she wrote was a victory. 

Do you like incorporating people you actually know into your writing? Bits of them sure, not blatant insertions to where people I know would know. Maybe just a wink.

Are you kill-happy with characters? Well, people do die IRL and in my writing. But I wouldn’t say I’m kill happy. IWD had two causalities. Will OIL have any? Well....I can’t answer that. Some of my favorite movies/books have poignant deaths, and I will admit the one major death scene that happened on screen in IWD was very cathartic and powerful for me. 

Am I George RR Martin kill happy though? no. 

Coffee or tea while writing? Morning: coffee. Night: Tea.

Slow or fast writer? I’m reasonably fast, though it certainly depends. sometimes it takes me a while to start. 

Where/who/what do you find inspiration from? Everything and anything. I always have my eyes peeled. When I was in Disney I came up with so many scenarios for Connor and Sophie, and yesterday doing sparklers and fireworks with my family I imagined a Cophie new year, lol. 

mainly though? Music. Definitely music.

If you were put into a fantasy world, what would you be? In my best life I’m a bard that follows along an adventurer and becomes their companion as they travel the the world. 

Most fave book cliche? Least fave book cliche? I’m a sucker for a lot of romantic tropes. The dance of romance, forehead touches, died in your arms, (Is that morbid? lol I’m sorry I just find it so dramatically satisfying.)  I love broody guy, gentle girl and variations of that trope. Friends to lovers. in fact I view my two OtPS a variation of the above. I probably have more too. Bedsharing too. I did bedsharing back before I knew everyone else loved it too :)

I’m of the opinion that most things can work if done properly but least favorite is by far the whole liar revealed story arc. at best I tolerate it, but...no. Just no. I’m getting a little tired of “we can’t be together” story lines and love triangles too. I also have tropes that I think are okay but everyone else loves: fake dating. (I know, I know. I even have my own fake dating story too. mostly I wrote it because I wanted to see if I could grow to like it.) and dramatic height differences. but this is mostly because I’m tall, and when I read young adult fiction as a youth, the LI was always so much taller than the herione...and I’m salty ok? lol. 

OH on young adult books: I’m tired of the heroine that “isn’t like other girls because I’m tough and reclusive and I don’t like makeup or whatever” (BELLA SWAN) I would like 2019 to be the year that I say you can be a powerful female and still like things that are traditionally feminine, and there should be no shame in it. I love writing characters that draw their strength through their femininity, because guess what...it’s not inherently weak! 

Fave scenes to write? I love scenes where the characters just talk. I love grand romantic gestures. I love moments of reflection. And of course, I love a love scene. :p

Most productive time of day for writing? When the muse strikes. 

It’s also strange to me that I most want to write when I’m in a crowd of people. maybe sometimes I feel like people are talking without listening and I feel a bit lonely so I imagine my characters, because they make me feel less lonely. 

Reason for writing? I always have in some way. The simple reason? I like to. It’s my therapy and my art. I just do :)

this took a long time for some reason! tagging @bitchesofostwick @negotiator-on-site @inquisitorsmabari @fourletterepithet @whatsherfacewrites @laraslandlockedblues @out-of-the-embers @ladymdc