#drop a Pevensie?

[brunhielda]

There is something here. Something about “the Holiday Lands” and “a mirror to the real world.”

“We know they effect us, but do you honestly think we can do anything to change THEM?”

“I don’t know. But I, for one, refuse to let a bunch of fickle mortals decide my fate. WE decide how we live or die! And if that means they get more holidays to fritter away on meager offerings of food and drink, then woopee for them, it’s not my problem or concern. THIS IS OUR HOME, and we DO NOT let it fall!”

Thanksgiving has fallen, crushed beneath a frosted boot. Now, All Hallow’s Eve prepares for the quickly approaching Holly Jolly Hordes. They. Must. Hold. Or all Holidays will be lost to the Bastardization of Saint Nick’s Name.

[zannolin]

susan & lucy, on aslan.

THE LION, THE WITCH, AND THE WARDROBE (2005) & PRINCE CASPIAN (2008), dir. Andrew Adamson

[blusandbirds]

last night's mascara - caspeter

@zannolin okay this one might be a little bit my fault

[capesandshapes]

'the pevensies go home and are so much more appreciative of life and youth and--"

Lame

New headcanon, making it sweep across the nation here

Edmund invents indoor plumbing in Narnia and this refucks his relationship with aslan because aslan can't use a toilet

[tarvha]

peter & caspian   »   another love.

a vague study in love, fealty, and what's left when you've run out of reasons to stay. caspeter at its best, imo, is about the quiet conjunction. it's about fighting the inevitable, trying to catch the uncatchable, and the slow realisation that your love belongs to the land and its people more than he will ever belong to you. if none of that makes sense: that's okay, just vibe. happy watching :)

[supernovasilence]

andrew adamson really said "william moseley did a great job getting knocked to the ground and screaming in pain in the first movie; let's make him do it again". and he was entirely correct

I think watching movies like this growing up, explains why I am the way that I am.

"The Cronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian"

[bloodybigwardrobe]

The first time Peter returns from a solo campaign, Susan can’t help but see monsters in his shadow. Their eyes are ruby-red and silver-sharp, their fangs grazing the back of Peter’s neck. Their claws raze the ground where he steps.

She is happy he is home, back where she can see him, but the smell of blood lingers in the Cair for weeks after Peter returns to his place in their row of thrones. It worries Susan how little he seems to care, even when Lucy and Edmund wrinkle their noses.

He smiles indulgently at her the third time she asks to wash the hair that looks caked with reddish mud out of the corner of her eye. He lets her check his back for unseen slashes, brushes a gentle hand over her hair, and tells her everything is fine and will remain just so.

Susan looks at him, at his eyes, and can see the next northern campaign rushing at her through his dilated pupils. There is joy in his cracked-lips smile, conquest and bloodshed sitting behind his teeth for every laugh over the dinner table. Susan’s dreams fill with distant shadows of massive beings flying overhead and dropping something of blinding pain.

It’s easier to call him Wolfsbane. Wolfsbane, a knight of the court of Narnia, a young man with great potential.

It’s easier than looking at the cresting wave of violence bearing down on him from behind and knowing there is little she can do to stop it from drowning him. Easier than accepting that this is how things will be.

Wolfsbane, not Peter Pevensie formerly of Finchley. Wolfsbane, not Peter, the boy who spun her in circles in a garden far away from here. Wolfsbane, not Pete, the eldest brother with a stubborn streak and soft smiles.

Wolfsbane grins at her siblings from across the table and Susan presses her tongue against her teeth. It’ll pass, she tells herself.

It must.

[raven-dor]

I saw your recent Edmund fic and I’m obsessed!

Could you do one where Edmund gets super jealous/overprotective with reader? I love possessive Edmund!

mine all mine

the four times in which edmund discovers that he is overprotective of his wife, and the one time she proves to him she can take care of herself

PAIRING: edmund pevensie x wife!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, overprotective nature, sword fighting, typical Narnia violence, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

🎶 : my love mine all mine - mitski

AN: 🩵💗 - This is set during the Golden Age, so all of them are adults!! also your title is fair, as in an adjective for just, not at all a description of what the reader looks like!!

part two (mine, all mine, all mine)

one.

He hadn’t meant to listen in to his wife’s meeting, really. But when he noticed Lord Eluna raising his voice, he couldn’t help but linger outside of the door, his hand on his sword's hilt. Y/N’s constantly calm voice interrupted the seething lord. “While I understand the importance of this situation, it does not warrant you to act poorly towards your queen, Lord Eluna.” 

The man scoffed. “By marriage. A marriage which could be easily annulled, seeing as you have not produced his grace any heirs.” 

Y/N laughed, seemingly not phased by his comment. “We are not in desperate need of any heirs, my lord. If you haven’t noticed, we have a plethora of rulers. Unless you are planning something that would warrant the need of heirs.” She paused, and Edmund could only assume the look on her face, the one she typically made when she was proving him wrong. "Are you?"  

“How dare you insinuate-” 

Edmund forced down a laugh, barging into the room. “My lords.” 

The table of twelve men stood, bowing to their superior. Half hearted ‘Your Grace’s’ were thrown Edmund’s way, but he could not care less. He looked at the man who was still glaring daggers at his wife. “Lord Eluna.” 

“Your Grace.” He tore his eyes from the young queen. “We were just-”

“Yes.” Edmund raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I heard. And while I appreciate your obviously kind and thoughtful concern, my wife and I do not need your advice on that particular matter.” 

Y/N turned bright red, widening her eyes when all the lord's jaws dropped. “Edmund-” 

“I’m sure whatever you were meeting about can be postponed.” Edmund looked around the table, waiting for an answer. “Well?” The lords clambered, nodding quickly in agreement. He smirked and walked over to his wife, holding out his arm for her to hold. “My love.” 

She rolled her eyes but still hooked her arm through his. “You are quite dramatic.” 

He laughed, ignoring the prying eyes around them. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean.” The couple walked out the doors, giggling when they knew the lords could no longer hear them. Edmund frowned, rubbing her arm comfortingly. “Do they always treat you so horribly?” 

“You cannot keep doing this, Ed.” She sighed.

“What am I do-” 

She glared at him. “You know what you’re doing. They will never learn to respect me if you keep coming to my defense.” 

“It’s been two years. They should have respected you the minute I married you. Actually-” He scoffed. “They should respect you because it’s the right thing to do.” 

They walked into their chambers, collapsing onto the bed. Edmund wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in as she traced shapes into his chest. “You're a gallant and honorable man, Edmund, much more than your lords. But you know as well as I that those old malcontents will never respect me until I give them a reason to.” 

“I wish it wasn’t so.” He leaned down, kissing her temple. “You are a much better leader than me.” 

She scoffed, leaning into his touch. “Not true.”

“Yes.” He nodded, staring at the ceiling. “You are.” 

“If I am..." She appeased him. "It is only because I’ve watched you and your siblings rule with kindness and justice for so long. Please do not put yourself down for my sake.” She stretched up, kissing him gently. “Never put yourself down; you are too perfect for that.” 

“If you insist.” He smiled, feeling lovesick. How could he not? The most beautiful woman in all of Narnia, or, more accurately, the universe, lay beside him.

Of course, he felt lovesick.

two.

“Happy Birthday, my love.” Y/N smiled mischievously at her husband. “How old are you now? Eighty?” 

He glared, kissing her cheek softly. “What a charmer you are.” 

She nodded and took a deep breath, straightening her dress as they prepared to enter the ballroom. “Well, you didn’t marry me for my baking skills.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Your baking skills are perfectly adequate.” 

She scoffed, looking up at him once more. “Don’t lie to me, Edmund Pevensie.” She fought the smile that threatened to break her act. “You flatter me too much, I think.”

He felt the overwhelming urge to kiss her senselessly. He had that urge constantly, but it was especially difficult at that moment. “You are a true beauty. Have I told you?”

She blushed, turning her face back towards the grand doors. “Behave.” 

He nodded, still looking at her in awe, enjoying the way her flushed cheeks complemented her dress. He had always loved her in the color blue. “Yes, ma’am.” 

The ushers opened the doors, and they stepped forward. “King Edmund the Just, and Queen Y/N the Fair.” 

The room exploded into applause for the Just King, and the pair descended the stairs, focusing on not falling in front of all their subjects. Peter, Susan, and Lucy sat on their thrones at the bottom, smiling brightly. Lucy gestured toward the Maestro, and Edmund led his wife to the middle of the ballroom. “I do wonder what they'll play.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What did you do?” 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

Y/N's smile grew as their wedding waltz’s familiar intro echoed through the hall. “This isn’t fair.” 

He laughed at the irony. “Why not, my love?” 

“It is your birthday, not our anniversary.” 

He spun her around the room, whispering. “I happen to like this song.” 

“Edmund…” She blushed again. “You should have chosen a song that you love.” 

“I did.” The waltz ended, and he bowed. “It reminds me of you; why wouldn’t I love it?” 

Her eyes were watering, and he suddenly felt horrible, his stomach twisting. “I’m sorry, did I-” 

She leaped up, kissing him soundly. The crowd gasped, but Edmund didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She leaned back, their foreheads touching. “I don’t deserve you.” 

His heart felt full. “Quite the opposite, really.” He kissed her once more, nuzzling his nose with hers. “I love you.” 

Lucy clapped her hands, pulling the crowd's attention away from the happy couple. “Thank you all so much for attending my brother’s 24th birthday ball!” The room erupted into cheers. Lucy smiled. “Help yourselves to the buffet, or take to the dance floor. Happy Birthday, dear brother.”

The crowd dispersed, and the pair walked up to the thrones, sitting beside each other, still holding hands. Peter muttered, smirking. “Couldn’t have waited until later?” 

Edmund rolled his eyes. “Just because you don’t have a love li-” 

Y/N scolded her husband. “Ed.” 

Peter glared playfully at his brother. “My love life is none of your business, thank you very much.” 

Susan laughed. “How is she?” 

Peter blushed. “She has a name.” He straightened his posture, looking out into the crowd for who Y/N could only assume they were talking about. “As perfect as ever.” 

Lucy giggled. “Have you tried talking to her?” 

Peter closed his eyes, leaning his head back against his throne. “I am getting attacked from all sides, it seems.” 

Y/N smiled. “I think it’s sweet. You seem very in love.” He smiled back, looking longingly at the buffet table, where a gorgeous maid stood handing out desserts. Y/N nudged him lightly. “You could ask her to dance.” 

He laughed, and when he realized his sister in law was not laughing, stopped. “I fear she would not like the fuss.” 

“Ah.” Y/N looked over at the girl again. “I will be right back.” 

Edmund whined. “Where are you off to?” 

“None of your business, Edmund.” She kissed his cheek quickly. “Do have fun at your own birthday party.” 

He sighed as she walked away. “How can I when you’re leaving?” 

The fair queen glided across the floor with the intention of making conversation with the girl the High King was infatuated with. She had almost reached Peter's love when a hand wrapped around her waist. She gasped, pulling herself out of the stranger’s hold. The visibly drunk lord bowed teasingly. “My Lady, would you care-” A hiccup interrupted his question. “Would you care to dance?” 

She smiled politely. “I’m afraid my card is full for the night. But thank you for the offer.” 

The man tried to speak again, but she turned around, walking back towards the maid. 

Edmund had seen the entire interaction, gripping the handles of his throne tight enough to break the solid stone. Peter whispered. “Edmund, don’t do anything rash-” 

“He just-” 

Peter gave him the stare, that older brother stare that he tried to reserve for hard moments. “He will be dealt with, trust me, but you need to be subtle-” 

Edmund stood up, stalking over to the drunken lord. Peter sighed once more. "He will be the first to give me gray hairs.” 

Susan rolled her eyes. “You are twenty-seven, Peter. You’re not graying anytime soon.” 

Edmund grabbed the lord’s arm, dragging him out to the balcony. “A nice night, isn’t it?” 

The lord was in shock, nodding. “Yes, Your Grace.” He grinned. “It is truly an honor to have been invited to your-” 

“It was a nice night.” The young king smiled condescendingly. “Until you harassed my wife.” 

“I-” The old man stuttered. “I meant no disrespect.” 

“Don’t lie to your king.” Edmund seethed. “If you ever do that again, you will rue the day, believe me.” He took a deep breath. “You will apologize to my wife, and after that, you will leave immediately. You are fortunate that I don’t ensure you are barred from the castle grounds.” 

The lord looked upset. Good, Edmund thought, serves him right. “But Your Grace-” 

“Do I make myself clear?” 

“Yes.” The old man nodded. “Yes, Your Grace.” He stumbled back into the ballroom, making a beeline for Y/N. Edmund watched from afar, smiling as she smiled, actually genuinely smiled. Then he frowned when she let him kiss her hand. Oh, how he wanted to have him banished. 

Y/N made her way to the balcony, shaking her head at her proud husband. “What have you done?” 

“Nothing. Why do you assume-” 

“Edmund.” She crossed her arms. “You must stop.” 

“What?” He laughed. “Stop protecting you?” 

“Yes!” She yelled, exasperated from his constant watching eye. “I had it handled.” 

“He harassed you.” 

“Thank you Edmund.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, something Edmund did not appreciate at the moment. “I wasn’t aware.” 

“My love.” He stepped forward, taking her hands in his. “As long as there is air in my lungs, I will protect you. It pains me to see you go through these things.” 

She smiled, placing a hand on his cheek. “You are a good man, Edmund.” 

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that.” 

“You’re right, I shouldn’t. But if we make a fuss about every lord who gets handsy while they’re drunk, the ballroom will be empty.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Good. Get rid of the whole lot of them. I would rather it just be you and I anyhow.” 

Y/N gasped, smacking his chest lightly. “Edmund!” 

“No one should have to deal with that.” 

“Well, I agree. But you can’t-” 

“Good.” He nodded, ignoring the fact that he just interrupted her. “Who were you talking to after that incident?” 

“Peter’s love.” She smiled. “That girl is quite kind. Spirited, too.” 

Edmund laughed, pulling Y/N in. “Perfect for Peter then.” 

She hummed, leaning her head on his chest as they looked back into the ballroom. “Perfect for Peter.” 

three.

It had been Edmund’s idea to go on an afternoon ride. Y/N had reminded him of the recent attacks that they were investigating, but he’d ignored her. Their horses galloped through the fall woods, leaves falling as they flew through. Phillip muttered. “Her horse is much younger than me, no wonder she keeps beating me.” 

Y/N’s horse, Vilja, laughed. “Perhaps you are simply slow, Phillip.” 

Y/N fought against the laugh that threatened to spill out. “Now Vilja, play nice. Remember, Phillip has to hold Edmund and his ego.” 

Edmund scoffed, shoving his wife playfully as they slowed. “What happened to playing nice?” 

They tied the horses beside each other, walking through the woods leisurely. “It is perfect outside, is it not?” 

Y/N nodded, leaning her head on her husband’s shoulder. “It is.” She smiled as the lantern came into view. “It’s been too long.” 

Edmund hummed. “We’re happy here.” He looked down, his heart beating fast. “You would tell me if you weren't happy, I hope.” 

“Of course, Edmund.” She smiled. “I'm very happy here. I only meant we’ve been here for a long time. After all, it has been thirteen years.” She looked back at the lantern, pulling Edmund along with her. “I wonder how long it’s been there.” 

He laughed, kissing her temple gently. “Who cares?” 

“Edmund…” She leaned into his touch. Feeling mischievous, she pulled out of his hold, sprinting further into the woods. 

Edmund groaned, chasing after her. “This was funnier the first time.” 

The nymphs giggled as they watched the couple run through the woods. Edmund spun in the clearing, squinting as he tried to find his wife. “Y/N, you know I’ll find-” A piercing scream broke the joyful nature of their fun, and his heart sank. “Y/N?” He waited for her response, another scream echoing through the forest. He ran towards her, unsheathing his sword. “Y/N!” He broke through the woods, finding his wife backed against a tree, a wolf growling in front of her. Edmund stood in between them, pointing the sword at the wolf’s head. “We don’t want to harm you.” 

The wolf simply growled. Odd. Edmund whispered. “Stay still, my love.” He stepped forward, addressing the wolf once more. “You have one more chance to leave us. We won’t harm you if you do so, you have my word.”

The wolf leaned back, lunging at Edmund, and he slashed his sword, killing the animal in a single blow. Y/N stood silent behind him, staring at the ground. “I thought all animals spoke in Narnia.” 

“So did I.” Edmund knelt beside it, checking for any witchcraft of any sort. 

Y/N smiled sympathetically, kneeling beside him. “She’s gone.” 

“He was wild. There had to have been-” Edmund was silenced by a gentle kiss. He blushed. “What was that-” She kissed him once more, smiling. 

“Edmund, she is gone. For good. And you saved me.” She mumbled. “Even though I could have reached for my sword-” 

He rolled his eyes, standing up and extending his hand. “Let me guess? You had it handled?” 

four.

She was radiant in that blue dress, Edmund observed from afar. After he had expressed his love of her in the color, she had ensured that almost all her dresses were that light blue. The rest of her dresses were her favorite color, which Edmund loved on her almost as much. 

Unfortunately, others enjoyed looking at his wife as well. Lately, in Edmund’s opinion, her sworn guard had been looking at her for much too long. He was a conventionally attractive man, Edmund could admit, but he didn’t like that the young knight was looking at his wife the way Edmund himself looked at her. 

He hadn’t brought it up to Y/N, not wanting to be called overprotective for the hundredth time. So he watched from afar, making sure that the knight didn’t make any untoward actions towards her. 

They were currently in the garden, and Y/N was smelling the flowers, laughing and making polite conversation with Ser Ellington. The young man laughed back, reaching out to stable her when she stumbled over a root. Edmund clenched his jaw, forcing himself to remain calm. 

It was his job after all, to make sure his queen was safe.

But when he reached out and grabbed a flower, extending it to the kind woman, Edmund snapped. That was not his job. He practically stalked forward, interrupting whatever conversation the two had been having. “My love.” He called out. “You look radiant.” 

She blushed. “Edmund, I thought you had your meeting.” 

He nodded. “I did, but we finished early, I thought I would accompany you for the rest of the day.” 

“Of course.” She looked over Edmund’s shoulder at Ser Ellington. “You are excused for the day. Thank you, Ser.” 

The knight bowed. “My Queen. Your Grace.” 

Edmund watched suspiciously as the young knight walked away, only turning back to his wife when he turned the corner. Y/N smirked, tilting her head just so. “You have no need to be jealous, my love.” She turned back to the flowers, smelling them. 

Edmund smiled guiltily, following after her like a puppy. “Can you blame me? Ser Ellington is not exactly unappealing.” 

She nodded, still not looking back at him. “He is. But I am not married to him, nor do I sleep in the same bed as him every night.” Edmund turned bright red. “Am I wrong?” 

“You are not, but you have to understand. You’re a beautiful woman, I can’t help but worry that someone will steal you away.” 

She rolled her eyes, turning around. “Do you really think I would hurt you so?” 

“No-” 

“What have I done to make you assume so? I love you; I made a vow to you.” She crossed her arms. “Am I just a prize to you that you desperately need to cling to?” 

“Of course not.” He grabbed her hands in his. “I’m madly in love with you, and the thought of you leaving me, the simple thought…” He pulled her closer, whispering. “Drives me mad.” 

“Edmund.” She glared, pulling out of his hold. “You are exaggerating.” 

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her gently back to him. “Do you really think I do not love you?” 

“I never said that.” 

He laughed. “You act as if we were not a love match. Like we didn’t discover Narnia together. I love you; I think I have since we were young.” He kissed the back of her hand delicately. “I know that I am too overprotective, and I am sorry for that…” 

She smirked with satisfaction. “Good.” 

“But can you blame me? You are a treasure, surely any other man would act that same way.” 

Y/N nodded. “Perhaps. But you are not any other man. You are Edmund Pevensie, and I know you know deep down that I can handle myself. I do not need you to watch over me like a mother hen.” She raised an eyebrow. “I also fought the White Witch, I also helped you form peace treaties, I also-”

Y/N stopped, becoming more irritable by the second when she realized Edmund wasn’t listening. He stared at her so lovingly it made her sick, and she scoffed. “I am going to the library.” 

He nodded, following after. “I shall accompany you.” 

She shook her head. “I would like to go alone.” 

He frowned. “Are you-” 

“Edmund, please.” She sighed. “I love you, but I need to be alone with my thoughts.” Without a second glance, she walked out of the garden, leaving Edmund helplessly staring at her. 

the time she proved him wrong

They had been gone for too long, Y/N thought as she stared at the woods. They had been gone for hours longer than they said they would. She should have gone with them; who knows where they were, where Edmund was. 

She tried to calm herself down and reminded herself that neither Edmund nor his siblings would leave her in Narnia alone, but it was difficult when all of the hunt’s participants were speaking to her at once. 

“Where are they?” Lord Eluna’s voice sounded over the rest. She tried not to glare at him; she could tell the man was enjoying the sight of her under pressure. 

“I understand everyone’s worries; I have them myself, but we all know that the Kings and Queens would never leave their subjects so suddenly. Have no doubt that they will return. I am certain High King Peter and King Edmund dragged their sisters along a trail of the deer’s tracks.” Light laughter echoed through the crowd, relieving her stress slightly. Her stomach fluttered, and she pressed a hand to it, rubbing it slightly. “Does anyone else have any immediate causes for concern?” 

The crowd erupted into chaos once more, and she took a deep breath, clearing her throat. “I will take meetings with all of you individually in the main tent.” 

meanwhile...

Edmund sighed, staring at his older brother as he tried to convince himself the deer was nearby. “Peter, we’ve been gone for hours. If we haven’t found the deer by now, who’s to say we’ll find it later?” He practically pleaded. “We should return to camp.” 

Peter rolled his eyes. “Just because you want to get back to your wife-” 

“Peter, Edmund’s right.” Susan interrupted. “This deer isn’t important, and Y/N is there alone with the entirety of the court.” She frowned. “If it were me, I would be rather overwhelmed.” 

Edmund fell into his thoughts, staring at the ground. Lucy whispered, nudging her brother lightly. “Edmund, don’t-” 

Edmund tightened the reigns on Phillip, racing back towards the camp. Peter sighed, riding not far behind him. The dark-haired king didn’t look back; his only thought was that he had left Y/N alone with the egotistical lords of the realm. Phillip slowed, and Edmund jumped off, running towards camp. 

Everything was fine, almost too fine. It was quiet, with a slight buzz of chatter but no worried voices. He stalked toward the main tent, whipping it open. 

There sat his radiant wife, talking calmly with Lord Dolitmov. The older man saw Edmund and immediately stood, bowing. “Your Grace.” He looked back to Y/N, kissing the back of the queen’s hand gently. “Your Grace.” 

Y/N smiled, waving as he walked out of the tent. Edmund tilted his head, smiling. “What happened?” 

She laughed. "The better question would be, what happened with you?” She hugged herself, rubbing her stomach once more. Edmund made a mental note to address that later. “You were gone for so long I assumed you had returned home.” 

He shook his head, frowning as he realized how stressed she had been. “I’m sorry for the worry we caused you; I fear Peter was too fixated on finding the white steed.” 

She nodded. “I wondered.” 

He took her hand in his, rubbing the back with his thumb. “I’m sorry that I worried you. But I must say, it is rather calm here.” 

She smirked. “I told you I can handle myself.” 

He laughed. “I believe you. Truly I do.” he brought her hand to his mouth, kissing the back gently. “I love you.” 

“And I you.” She walked into his arms, burying her head in his chest. “I would have died from heartbreak if you had left me.” 

“I would never.” He kissed her temple. “You know that.” 

She nodded. “I know you would never leave us.” 

He nodded back. “Correct. I would never leave-” He paused, tilting his head. “Us?” 

Y/N looked up sheepishly. “I-” Her eyes started to water. “I’m pregnant, Edmund.” 

“What?” Edmund grinned, staring at his wife in disbelief. “Really?” 

She nodded, and Edmund grabbed her waist, spinning her around the room. Y/N cackled, smacking his shoulder. “Put me down; you’re going to hurt the babe.” 

“I’m sorry.” He smiled. “I can’t help it.” 

She laughed, kissing his lips softly. “I love you.” 

Edmund leaned down, kissing her soundly. “And I you.” 

taglist: @beebeechaos

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[tending-the-hearth]

a version of chronicles of narnia where those closest to the kings and queens get put into a sleep when the pevensies are brought back to their world, from which they're awoken only when their beloved four rules return, something à la sleeping beauty.

so the pevensie siblings return to narnia, and logically, it's been thousands of years. their closest friends, those they viewed as family, are, to their knowledge, dead, and they are completely alone now.

until peter and caspian encounter each other in the woods, and are about to get into their fight. it's the moment where peter's back is turned, and caspian has his word raised. lucy is screaming, tears in her eyes, susan and edmund are too far away to do anything, and there's a moment of chaos before caspian's strike is blocked by a larger, longer sword.

oreius, completely disgruntled and still very out of the loop, but only focusing on the fact that his king, his friend, his son, is in danger, glares daggers at caspian, not looking away for a second, even as tumnus gathers a now-relieved, sobbing lucy up in a tight hug, and edmund and susan shriek with joy upon seeing the beavers and mr. fox.

and any feeling of tension or fear immediately seeps out of peter, who drops the rock he had picked up, and stumbles to his feet and to oreius' side, being able to lean on the centaur for the first time in a year, and not have to worry about his safety or his siblings' safety. and oreius, without taking his eyes off of caspian and his followers, just puts an arm around peter.

and caspian remembers. he remembers the stories of the high kings and queens of narnia, and their beloved inner circle, and the absolutely terrifying centaur who called them sons and daughters of his heart, and he can't quite help but think about how utterly fucked he is.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ stay the night (stay forever?) ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by anonymous ˚₊ ⊹

ft. edmund pevensie x f! reader — the chronicles of narnia

╰₊✧ you met your boyfriend’s family for the first time and spend the night┊1.3k words

setting: modern au, england after the golden age contains: established relationship, college students who are high school sweethearts, cuddling & falling asleep together, suggestive stuff at the end

➤ author's note: i need to rewatch the movies soon T-T sorry this was so short! i’m sort of braindead when it comes to writing for some reason

all of edmund’s siblings have met you before in passing, but never exchanged any more words than greeting and quick introductions, so one could feel the excitement in the air when he decided it was finally time for a formal meeting. it was difficult to find a weekend when everyone was free for this event with the schedules of so many people to consider, leaving them all angsty with anticipation in the days leading up to the moment you would grace them with your presence. 

they weren’t quite sure why they were so nervous when you’re the one who had to win their favor by being brought into their home. prehaps it’s because they were so curious about this girl who won the heart of their disagreeable brother, the one who often turned up his nose at the prospect of romance and never seemed entertained by thought. even if you find yourself to be the most ordinary girl in the world, all of the pevensies know that there’s a special sparkle in you which attracted him to you.

“oh my god, what if they hate me?” you groaned. “i mean, weren’t you guys royalty in a previous life? i’ll probably fuck up something stupid like my table manners…”

“royalty in an alternate dimension,” he corrected, reaching out to take your hand in his, “my brother and sisters aren’t that bad, trust me.”

“why don’t i believe you?”

“you’ll be fine, i promise.”

you knew he only said that because of his experience of typical sibling bonds as the youngest brother and a middle child, but your stomach can’t help but twist from anxiety. of course, you’ve heard from him about their endeavors from a foreign land called narnia, originally thinking he was taking you for a fool before wondering if he had gone completely mad because of what sounded like a fantasy plot his mind managed to concoct. you said you believed him, but to this day, you still have no idea if he was telling the truth or not. 

it wasn’t a dealbreaker if he wasn’t, maybe it was just an extremely elaborate joke in his family that he was trying to pass on to you. you’ll only know when you meet his siblings— and a small part of you hoped every world was real because, not only will it mean you’re dating a king (which was a perk but not a reason), it also means that there’s more to this world than what meets the eye.

as the two of you finally approached his front door, you dropped his hand and hastily wiped yours on your skirt in hopes no one would notice how sweaty your palms had become as your boyfriend started to unlock the door. your heart was beating faster than the day you decided to ask him out up to your ears, barely allowing you to hear him get greeted by his mother and welcome you in. you swallowed the thick saliva that pooled on your tongue, taking a deep breath and following him into the house. 

there wasn’t anything particularly special about the house itself, just your typical english home with reliable wooden furniture and some potted plants, but it felt so warm and comforting to enter. 

as edmund took your coat and bags to hang, you heard people chatting nearby, seemingly unaware that you two had entered, and you couldn’t help but strain your hearing a bit to listen in to the voices you assumed to belong to his siblings. 

“look, i’m just surprised that edmund got a girlfriend before me, that’s all. i mean, how did he manage to pull before i did?”

“sue, just because he can be disagreeable at times doesn’t mean he isn’t as lovable as you are.”

“i’m not saying he isn’t lovable! he can be wonderful whenever he takes that stick out of his arse, but i’m just saying that i thought there would be a certain order when we would be bringing out partners home, and ed… isn’t exactly at the top.”

“well, now i’m curious what your list looks like— also, come help me clean this smudge off the window! i want to make a good impression!”

“you can barely even see it! come sit down, they’re going to arrive at any minute, and you’re running around cleaning like a maid. she won’t care about some smudge that’s hidden by the blinds.”

“i see that you all are already bickering,” the younger brother laughs, interrupting their conversation as he leads you by the wrist into the living room where they were all hanging out. they all looked sheepish when they were caught, the sisters blushing a faint pink, and the brother chuckling while scratching the back of his head. “anyways, everyone, i want you all to meet the girlfriend,” he introduced. 

you waved shyly and told them your name, although you’re certain they already knew.

“you’re so pretty!”

“i can see why edmund fell so quickly.”

“would you like a biscuit?”

you quickly realized that they were nothing like you expected as they gave you a grand tour of their house, showing you their rooms (peter’s room was messy with rugby equipment scattered about), showed you all of their pets (lucy loves taking home strays to nurse them back to health), and had long conversations that made you lose track of time (susan was knowledgeable with witty and interesting things to say). you knew they would be friendly, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t expect them to be like the nobles from the movies: off-standish and prideful people who would turn their nose up at you for minor flaws. they were nothing like that, casual and fun, just as nervous and awkward as you, but it quickly vanished and was replaced with an atmosphere that was comparable to meeting old friends.

“mom! do you think she can stay the night?”

“of course, she can, sweetie.”

lucy smiled at the answer, “what should we do next? we have a lot of board games—”

“now hold on a second, she’s my girlfriend, but we’ve barely had a moment to spend time together since we came home!”

“you two have been together for like three years, i think you’ll live if we spend tonight as a family instead of just the two of you.”

he pouted at his older brother’s words before motioning for you to follow him, “come on, let’s go to my room.”

“remember to leave the door open!”

“alright!”

edmund’s bedroom was so unique to him with the dark color scheme, an entire wall of books on the shelves, and a chessboard placed neatly on the edge of his desk, ready to play at any moment. you situated himself on his bed with a bowl of popcorn as your boyfriend set up the dvd before joining you. “did you have fun today?”

“yeah, your family is really nice…” you answered, starting to feel tired after a long day of merriment. 

“i told you you would be fine.”

as the movie droned on, you found yourself dozing off, leaning into the warmth radiating from his body. you were asleep before the film even ended, and edmund moved carefully to make sure you wouldn’t wake up as he grabbed the remote to shut off the television and moved the popcorn from your hands to the bedside table. (you’re so cute when you’re resting. he’s only ever seen you in this vulnerable state before when you were napping with your head against the table back in high school before getting scolded by the teacher.) he placed a tender kiss against your temple and snuggled beside you, spending the next few hours as a cushion for you to lie against while scrolling his phone like the night owl he is until he received a text from his brother.

“you two better not be doing anything suspicious.”

“??? with the door wide open??”

“i’m just saying” “not under our roof”

“i cant believe you”

“look if you’re doing anything” “just stay safe” “i’m your older brother i’m just looking out for you so that you dont get your ass beat by mom in case anything happens”

“we aren’t doing anything” “i’m not having this discussion with you, i’m going to bed.”

“good night” “don’t do anything”

“blocked”

request:

could u do a modern edmund pevensie x reader where they like have a sleepover together for the first time and she bonds with his family 🙏🙏

[lokotrona11]

Lover of your enemy

Pairing : Edmund Pevensie x Reader

summary : You go out with Edmund secretly from your father. (And both lose their virginity)

Word count : 800

gender: Obscene, love.

AN : Nothing.

The gif is not mine!

-----

You're in your room, in the Telmarine castle, waiting for him.

You hear something fall near your window and you quickly get up. "Edmund?"

You walk carefully to your window with a porcelain figurine in your hands, ready to defend yourself.

"It's me." You hear Edmund's voice, as you watch them walk through your window into your room.

You let out a breath in relief, your body relaxing at the sight of him.

“You scared me.” You walk to your bed again, knowing he’s following you.

“I’m sorry,” you hear him say.

“But I really wanted to see you.”

You and Edmund were in a secret relationship for a very short time, as you were publicly rivals.

"If my father saw you he would kill you" They both know it's true, but the righteous king doesn't care at all.

"I don't care what your father could do to me. I'm not afraid," he says, approaching you, letting his hands fall to your waist.

Lately you hated being Miraz's daughter, and you still didn't understand who was right in this war, your father or your cousin? Still you didn't want to think about it, you preferred to waste time with the cutest enemy of all.

You take Edmund's face in your hands and kiss him, you feel him surprised but he quickly presses his body, taking hold of your hips.

You moan at the pressure, and walk away without breaking the kiss.

The kiss ends and you fall onto the mattress

"It's my first time" Edmund's body rises, floating above you.

"Mine too." He kisses your lips.

"Are you sure you want to?"

"Yes, I want it to be with you."

Their foreheads came together, breathing the same air.

"Even if I'm your enemy?"

You denied "You're not my enemy, you're my lover"

He kisses you, enjoying your lips.

"I want my first time to be with you too."

"Edmund... They can hear us," you say in a small whisper.

"I don't care." He grabs your face and kisses your lips hard.

You decide to give in as you feel his hands now on your dress, unbuttoning it.

You help him and take off your dress, leaving you only in your panties.

Your hands run to his pants and you unbutton his pants, letting him finish taking them off.

Edmund reaches down to your panties. “Can I?”

You feel your heart beating uncontrollably. “Yes, just be gentle.”

“I will be.”Ed's cold hands brush against your skin, grabbing the elastic of your underwear, you moan as you feel your panties slide down your ankles.

"Are you okay?" He asks and you nod.Edmund drops your panties to the floor and his face is level with your pussy.

His hands travel until they intertwine with yours and without giving you time he licks your folds.

You moan at the feel of his tongue and clench your hands.

"Edmund.."He pulls his head out from between your legs.

"Am I doing this wrong?"You shake your head quickly.

“No, go on.”

Edmund laughs and resumes his work.He’s soft and uncertain, licking carefully and slowly.

Your legs shake as his tongue touches your clit and you cry out as you come.

Your breathing is labored. "How was it?"

"Good, very good," you say slowly.

Edmund moves up to kiss your lips, you follow the kiss, trying to bring your body closer to his.

You open your legs, giving Edmund a place between your legs.

"Edmund, I want to do it."

"Are you sure? It's okay if you don't want to.."

"I want to." You kiss him and move your hands down to touch his member, playing with him, hearing the king's little moans.

You insert his member into you, both of you moaning in unison.

Your eyebrows knit together, feeling pain. “Does it hurt a lot?”

Your lover asks as he kisses your bare shoulder, not moving.

“A little.” You moan, squeezing his hands.

You caress Edmund's hand as he lowers his kisses to your neck.

"Move," you ask.

Edmund moves his hips delicately, and continues to take your hands but now raises them to the side of your head. His movement is gentle and steady, his moans soft.

“Faster” you sigh, letting go of his hands and your hands traveling to his chest.

You change the pace to a faster one, dizzy from the sensation, so warm and tight, it feels like heaven.

"Ed.. Edmund, I'm cumming" you scream.

His hips slam into your body faster, “Me too”

Your body spasms as you orgasm, moaning.

"I'm cumming," you hear Edmund say, and you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling his cum inside you.

Edmund falls on top of you, agitated.

"Are you okay, my love?" You ask, caressing his back.

"Very good," you hear softly.

Your hands scratch his back and before long you hear him snoring softly, then you let yourself fall asleep, knowing that tomorrow morning he will have to escape through the window, as always.

Not knowing that your lover was actually a spy, who had fallen in love with you when his mission is to make you fall in love and get information from you, but you will find out about that another day.

[zannolin]

wayward children

It’s absurd, she tells herself. She’s being hysterical, unreasonable. What kind of mother looks at her own children and feels fear seize the back of her neck? Still, she sits up long after they’ve gone to sleep, the four of them, still in the same room, still communicating wordlessly in ways she cannot understand, and stitches rowan twigs and half-formed prayers into the linings of their coats with red thread and pricking fingers. Still, months later, she finds herself waiting for them to come home.

(or, the children helen welcomes home are not the ones she sent away.)

[where-dreamers-go]

Hi friend! Can I please request an adult!Edmund Pevensie x f!reader fluff where he’s had a crush on reader for ages and thinks she’s flirting with Peter so he’s super jealous but Susan tells him reader only has feelings for him so he finally confronts her about it?

Thank you!

"Foolish" Edmund Pevensie x f! Reader

(A/N: Hello~ Since you requested Adult! Edmund, I made him King Edmund while the Pevensies were ruling in Narnia. Thank you for requesting! :)

Where King Edmund has a years long crush on Reader. One day he mistakes an interaction between Reader and High King Peter to be flirtatious. Jealousy shows up.

Warnings: angst, mutual pining, fluff, and use of (Y/N) for Your Name.

Word Count: ... words)

~~~

A calm day in Narnia was welcome even in a time of peace. No battle in the North. No need to assist Archenland from would-be invaders.

Even the blue sky held a painting of white, wispy clouds while an ocean breeze brushed across the coastline.

Turning away from the window, King Edmund passed the reset chess set and headed out of the room.

Any day as lovely as the one before him surely held other welcomed wonders.

Movement ahead made him take pause. A familiar figure walked through the space with grace.

Edmund's heart leapt at the sight of you in Cair Paravel. His finished game of chess and next route quickly forgotten. A smile pulled on his lips.

You continued on, having not seen him in the shadow of a doorway.

Yet Edmund has not moved. Struck by your presence. After all, he had not seen you in nearly two days. But he would not stay frozen for long. The king was much too eager to speak with you again, to hear your voice, and perhaps take a stroll.

Or everything, he thought wistfully.

Soles of shoes were padding across the floor almost to the same rhythm as Edmund's pulse. A much different reason for his blood pumping than heading into battle.

Having a long withstanding crush on you was its own battle between his thoughts and emotions.

What to do?

What to say?

How not to act with obvious admiration?

Greet her as you always have. No need to be nervous.

At the sound of a laugh, Edmund stopped at an open doorway. Your laugh.

He smiled. The just King wondered what raised the light musical tone from you.

Taking a show breath first, Edmund peered into the room.

Laughter echoed throughout the room from you and High King Peter.

Confusion struck Edmund first.

You gazed at Peter with such a bright expression that Edmund felt his stomach drop. Hushed voices with words Edmund could not make out.

What are the saying?

Your lips pulled into a grin as you leaned closer to Peter. Friendly on a level that made Edmund's stomach churn.

Heat rose within him when you reached out a hand and touched Peter's arm.

No.

Edmund turned abruptly and fled.

She couldn't.

The memory of your laugh--for Peter--rang throughout his mind.

She sought out Peter.

His fists clenched at the thought of your fingers caressing Peter's forearm.

She has feelings for him? Since when?

Legs continued moving. Thoughts raced.

The further he went from you the more you clung to his mind. His heart still held onto you with every warm fiber of being. But it hurt.

Tumbling from shock to denial to sadness coated with jealousy to hide his pain kept Edmund on his feet. He knew it wasn't the best option, but he didn't want to just feel the ache on his heart. An ache spreading through him. The quickly forming and heavy heartache.

. . .

For over an hour, Edmund had managed to find seclusion. A room where attention was not needed. Comfortable furnishings decorated the room, but that was all.

Pacing the room continuously, King Edmund sank deeper into negative emotions clinging around his heart.

No chance with her.

Lied to yourself.

Too blind to see where her heart was leading.

"How could I have been so foolish?" Edmund thought out loud as his voice nearly cracked.

"Do you require a list?"

He spun on his heel, surprised to see his sister Susan walking into the room.

"You could not have done something foolish enough to warrant such seclusion," Queen Susan announced sincerely.

"I am afraid I have."

She frowned.

"All this time, I let my feelings run wild and grow for (Y/N). She's intelligent, kind, fun..." Edmund swallowed the lump in his throat. "I came to believe that our friendship could be something more. A continued growth of something... wonderful." His gaze raised higher to see his older sister listening quietly. "However," he swallowed again, "I saw her with Peter not long ago. She seems happy to be in his company. I trust Peter will make her happy."

Edmund stood tall even as he felt his heart crumbling from his own words.

"I see." Susan shook her head and continued softly, "If you consider yourself foolish for having feelings for her then your foolishness is misplaced. She does not and never has held feelings for Peter outside of respect and friendship."

Heat from his hands subsided.

What?

"Edmund, she has only ever had feelings for you. She cares for you deeply. In fact, she has been searching all of Cair Paravel for you."

"But..."

"Edmund," she looked at him almost pointedly.

"Where is she?"

. . .

Cair Paravel appeared much larger when one person searched for another.

A new, revitalized rush of warm feelings surged King Edmund onward. No longer were his hopes for a future with you darkening.

You were seeking him. Edmund Pevensie. Your friend. Your king. Your chess competitor. Your reading companion.

She has feelings for me!? I need to --

Rounding a corner up ahead, you appeared in the afternoon light.

"Edmund." You called brightly.

The sound of your joyous relief nearly sent him falling over from the swelling reaction of his heart. Yet he hurried forward to meet you.

"I've been searching nearly everywhere but your room for you." You reached out and Edmund let you grab ahold of his hands. "Where have you been?"

"Stuck in my own mind without truly understanding what I have seen."

"Stuck?" Your eyebrows pinched together in concern.

Slowly, he inhaled. He had to compose himself to prevent you from worrying any more.

"I do not wish to alarm you with an abrupt question, however I find I must. If only to ease my mind or make a mockery of myself."

You squeezed his hands. "I shall not laugh at your question. I promise."

"I know." Edmund swallowed before gazing into your expressive eyes. "Do you have romantic feelings for me?"

Your eyes widened for a moment and he hastened to think of a way to save for from any embarrassment. However, you swayed a little on your feet with a smile on your lips.

"That is a most personal question, Edmund."

Warmth crept up his neck.

"I have not seen you for almost two full days and this is what's on your mind?" You intertwined your fingers with his.

His heartbeat leapt.

"I admit that you take residency in my mind."

"Then you should have my answer." You whispered, "Yes. Always you, Edmund."

A weight felt as if it had been shoved off of his shoulders and his heart was free to indulge in feeling. All you and him. Your infectious smile and touch.

She likes me.

Breathy laughter escaped him for a moment and he inclined his head.

"Why do you laugh?" You questioned as you stepped forward into his space. Doing your best to meet his gaze.

"I laugh only at myself and how foolish I had mistakenly been to not see how you truly felt about me. I nearly locked myself away thinking you loved Peter."

"Peter?" Your face contorted into confusion. "No. He's practically a brother to me. A friendly advisor more so."

"How so?"

You placed your clasped hands to your chest. "I sought his guidance today on if you fancied me romantically."

I truly am a fool. Edmund beamed.

"Silly Edmund," you playfully whispered, "you should have trusted your heart."

Picking his head up, Edmund gently nudged his nose to yours. It earned him a soft look from you. Fully content and comfortable with him.

He wondered if he could gaze at you forever.

"Does this mean I should ask to court you?"

"I would love you to." Edmund answered, leaning ever closer to your warmth and affection.

All playfulness set aside, you asked formally, "May I court you, Edmund? Officially, affectionately, and truly?" Your gaze held his, vulnerable and sure.

Edmund's day had turned and rolled to play with his emotions. Perhaps a test of sorts. A chance to see what mattered to the king.

But he knew what mattered.

He knew who mattered.

"You may." Edmund grinned. "Officially courting, affectionately courting, truly courting, lovingly courting. As long as it's with you, I will be the happiest man in all of Narnia."

~~~ ~~~

Coffee

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

Narnian Tags:

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.

[keynesofmyheart]

i miss you, write to me - edmund pevensie

✧ PAIRING: Edmund Pevensie/Reader

✧ SUMMARY: Edmund Pevensie comforts you after a falling out with a friend, reminding you that some things—and some people—are worth more than just a second chance.

✧ CONTENT: Angst/hurt to comfort

✧ WORD COUNT: 888

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTES: Putting this one out here first. I don't know if this is good, but I just wanted to write it and post it here and on ao3. Imagining how Edmund is when comforting someone is so interesting to think about, like how he is there to sit in the quiet with you, he may not know what's up or if he does he's just there for you...it's just so warm, kind, and special to explore.

The past few days have been overwhelming, so you decide to break your routine, escaping to a quiet park bench. You’ve been sitting there after wandering aimlessly, hoping the solitude would help clear your mind. The overcast sky mirrors your mood, and the chill in the air is oddly grounding. You brought your journal, thinking that writing might help organize your thoughts, but as soon as you stared at the blank page, everything came rushing in all at once. It was too much. Giving up, you close the journal and stare at the trees above you instead.

Your silence is broken when you hear your name called softly. You glance up, surprised but relieved to see him.

“I figured you might be out here,” Edmund begins, his voice carrying a hint of awkwardness. “You've been quiet for days, and when you weren’t at your dormitory, I thought I’d check to see if you were alright.”

You attempt a weak smile before looking away, the weight of your thoughts pressing down harder. “It’s nothing,” you mumble, voice trembling.

He doesn’t push, but he doesn’t leave either. Instead, he sits beside you, close but not overwhelming. A pause follows, filled only by the rustling of the wind through the trees. Then, he speaks again, his tone measured and gentle.

“You don’t have to tell me everything,” he says. “But if it feels like too much to carry alone, I’m here. Just... so you know.”

Something in his words—simple, sincere—loosens the tight knot in your chest. Slowly, hesitantly, you start to talk. You tell him about the fight with your friend, the words exchanged that you wish you could take back, and the heartbreaking farewell letter they left behind.

“I wanted to write to Lucy… I even thought about visiting, but after what my friend said—” You pause, swallowing hard. “They were right, and I was wrong for how I acted and how I treated them. I just feel too ashamed to see anyone after what I did. How can I, when I’m still out of sorts?”

Edmund listens intently, his gaze softening as he exhales, as if he, too, is carrying some of your burden.

“I’m not the best at this,” he admits, offering a small, self-deprecating smile. “But I do know what it’s like to mess things up. To ruin something important and feel like there’s no way to take it back.”

You glance at him, surprised by his honesty.

“Here’s what I’ve learned, though,” he continues, leaning forward slightly. “If it really matters—and it sounds like this friend does—it’s worth trying to fix. And even if you can’t right now, that doesn’t mean you’re undeserving of friendship or forgiveness from anyone. Working on yourself doesn’t mean shutting everyone out as some sort of punishment. You don’t have to isolate yourself to prove you’ve changed.” His voice drops slightly, as if speaking from memory. “It’s hard to be in someone’s good graces again, but people can surprise you. I certainly think Lucy would still be there for you, even if you told her everything.”

His words settle in your heart, grounding you. Though you’re not ready to act on them yet, they plant a small seed of hope.

The sincerity of it all brings tears to your eyes, and before you know it, you’re breaking down, covering your face. Edmund hesitates for a moment before reaching out, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. It’s a tentative gesture, as if he’s unsure if it’s welcome, but his warmth and steadiness feel like exactly what you need.

“You’re not alone in this,” he says quietly, voice close to your ear. “You’ve got Lucy. And you’ve got me, for what it’s worth.”

You lean into him, letting his presence anchor you. He stays still, his touch light yet unwavering. His hand briefly shifts as if to brush your hair, but he seems to think better of it, his shyness peeking through. Still, the arm around you tightens slightly—an unspoken promise of support.

When you eventually pull away, his cheeks are faintly pink, and he looks down, clearing his throat. “If you want, we can come and visit Lu.”

You nod, breaking into a small, watery smile. “I’d love that. Oh, god.” You cover your face, embarrassed by your tears. In all the years you’ve known Edmund, you were never sure if you could be vulnerable around him like this. Then, surprising you, he reaches out again, this time taking your chin gently between his fingers, tilting your face up so he can wipe away the stray tears.

“Lucy would love to see you again too.” His voice is quiet but firm. “We really miss you.”

“It’s been really that long hasn’t it? I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Y/N,” he says, his smile turning a little lopsided. “Just write to us. Write to me, alright?”

You laugh at how Edmund is still the way he was—brushing over a heavy moment, shifting the mood, convincing you everything was going to be alright.

Yet, as you meet his gaze, the look in his eyes lingers, something quiet and unreadable. And for the first time, you wonder if he’s showing you the answer himself.

“I’ll write to you too, Ed. And I'll visit more often.” you say, smiling.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Assistant 13

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, cheating, creep behaviour, violence, anger. These warnings are not exhaustive and some triggers may not be specified for plot reasons.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As an assistant at the Daily Planet, you’re rarely noticed. Until you are.

Characters: Clark Kent

Note: We came back.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Lord Farquaad loves unnecessary vowels. Take care. 💖

🖊🖊🖊

Your new life is more of a death. The old you is dead and can never be again. Not quite a true death, it’s a purgatory you’re slogging through, waiting for the ultimate end. 

Your first days are bleak. The house is filled with a stagnant pall as you wile away the hours playing your role. It’s easier when you pretend you're a character in a book, just like you did as a girl. When you became Elizabeth Bennet or one of the Pevensie kids. You escape in your mind because there is no other way out.

A routine quickly falls into place. You wake up, though sleep is sparse and hewn in wretched nightmares that mirror reality, and wait until Clark stirs. He never rouses very long after you. You open yourself to him, laying on your back, legs splayed as he grunts and ruts.

Tender, you dress in one of the thin dresses he collected for you and you go to work. You cook him breakfast. Sometimes, he takes you back to bed after he eats. Others, he pins you to the counter or the table. Then you clean up; the table, the dishes, and yourself.

When he stays, he sits and reads. You hover around him, busying yourself with a broom or just watching him, weighing the minutes. Not yet, not yet.

Lunch comes and you take care of that too. Then him. His appetite never wavers. The heavy pain sticks in your pelvis but he can’t think the limp is from anything more than the chain tugging at your ankle.

You pace, restless and wait. That’s all you do. Wait. For the first chance or his next whim. Whichever comes before the other.

You stand at the window and watch the wildlife. You feel him watching you in kind. When he leaves, he closes the shutters, latching them tight on the outside. Locking you in like a toy in a chest. A doll he can pick up to play with whenever he likes.

Dinnertime. Another meal. You’re not very hungry but you make yourself eat. If he lets you have a bath, you can puke it back up when he goes to get a towel. That is the last marker of time before bedtime…

Sleep is not won without a final surrender.

That day, as you wrap potatoes to cook in the oven, all noise seems louder, every movement more strenuous. The staleness in the air is suffocating. Your ears buzz from the constant silence. You crinkle the foil around a potato and drop it, rubbing your lobes.

You keep your hands on your ears and stare at the counter. You could scoop out your brains with a spoon. Are you going crazy? Your head feels itchy on the inside and you would be all to happy to scratch right through the bone. 

“Honey?” Clark’s voice ripples through the air. “Is something wrong?”

You close your eyes and cringe. You drag your hands away and wrap the other potato, wincing at the aluminum's raucous wrinkle. He stands and you shudder. He’s coming close.

“It’s too quiet,” you say at last.

He nears and looms beside you. You put the potatoes aside and drag over the pan of marinating steak. His large hand rests on the counter.

“Can I help?” He offers. You shake your head.

“No, thanks, I got it, honey,” you reach to touch his hand. You just want him to back off. Sweat stains your skin as his proximity sets you on fire. 

He leans in to kiss your crown, his hand dancing down your back. He gropes your ass and growls. His hand lingers and you brace yourself. It isn’t unlike him to interrupt.

“Love you,” he grits before he draws away.

You let your breath out in short spurts. You don’t want him to hear the relief in you. Your thighs quiver, bruised and raw. You carry on without pause. Keep yourself busy and he’ll let you be. For now.

🖊

The next day, Clark leaves you. You don’t know what he does when he isn’t there. Sometimes he brings back groceries or little things he’s forgotten. Others, he’s gone for hours and returns only with stress in his shoulders. You try not to think too much about what happens outside these walls, that only makes them close in tighter.

When he comes back, just around lunch time, he presents you a radio. An orange and black radio you’ve seen used by those in remote regions. He sets it on the counter as he flicks it on and adjusts the knob, searching for a station through the crackle. You cross your arms as you watch around his elbow.

The stringy tune comes through and warbles against the static. The music soothes you. You only realise then, you’d never thought you’d hear it again. Clark turns to you as you stare at the speakers.

“Do you like it?” He asks.

You nod and unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, “yes, thank you.”

Is this all you have? A radio?

“Do you… wanna dance?” He murmurs shyly.

You look at him. You reach for his hand in acceptance. Nothing he gives comes without a price. He takes you into his arms wordlessly, his face brightening as he leads you into a slow shuffle.

‘I bless the day I found you I want to stay around you And so I beg you Let it be me’

The song is older. You’re not sure who it is. By your guess, it’s even older than your parents… you know you won’t see them again. Even if you do get your chance, you can never go back to the life before this.

“I remember the first day I saw you,” Clark says as he pulls your head to rest against his chest, “you were wearing that little pink plaid dress…”

His words hang in the air. You remember the day too. The day you thought you’d figure it all out. You’d pay your dues as an assistant, work your way up to a writer one day, and maybe, in your wildest dreams, an editor…

“I love you, honey,” he pets your head.

“Love you too,” you eke out.

He pulls back to look down at you. You gaze up as he brings his fingertips under your chin. He leans in to kiss you and draws away reluctantly. He hums as his other hand closes around yours.

“Let’s take a bath,” he lets go of you and follows the chain to its end, unhooking it from the loop in the floor. He tugs you after him as he lets the radio play.

You let him take you into the bathroom. He’s intent on his mission. He drops the chain, the links hitting the floor heavily. You stare at it, just for a second, not too long for your heart to spike.

He bends over the tub and cranks the faucet. You watch him, fingers tingling, as he puts in the stop and holds his hand under the water’s flow. Stay calm.

You move closer to him as he undresses. You help him lift his shirt and you pet the soft hair along his torso. He turns to you, that foggy look in his eyes. You bring your hands to his pants and undo them, biting your lip as you hold his gaze.

You pull down his pants and let them fall down his thick legs. You tilt your head at the sudden thought, tweaking your ear towards the music. He reaches to stroke your chin.

“What is it, honey?” He snarls.

“This song,” you stop and listen to The Ronettes' iconic beat, “can I turn it up?”

He rolls his thumb across your chin and exhales, “sure, honey. I like this one too.”

You smile and shift your head, taking his thumb into your mouth. His eyes round as you swirl your tongue around his salty fingertip. You pop your lips off as he sighs.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Mmm, baby,” he breathes.

You turn slowly, measuring your steps and your heartbeat. You go out into the kitchen, the chain rattling with each step. You peer around, taking in the place. You hear the water swish as he lowers himself into the tub. You peek over as the end of the chain trails just outside the bathroom.

You stop by the radio and glance over your shoulder. Now. You turn up the radio, just loud enough. You bend and tug the chain inch by inch towards you, the noise disguised by the drumbeat. You coil it around your hand, allowing enough for you to walk.

You peer over at the bathroom doorway.

“I’ll bring towels,” you call over the music.

“Hurry,” he booms back as he lets out another gritty sigh, “baby, I need you.”

You turn without hesitation. This is it. You march into the front room and to the front door. Of course he wouldn’t lock it, not with the cuff on your ankle hooked to the loop. You glance over at the hook in the floor and steel yourself.

You open the door, lifting it on the hinges to keep it quiet. The radio drones behind you as you let yourself out into the cool air. You take one step, then the other, each one quicker than the last. You approach the trees and take a breath.

It’s now or never.

You plunge into the woods, your gait uneven as you run with the chain yank with each step. You don’t know where you’re going or where to go, you just need to get far away from here. You can’t live like this. You can’t die like this.

Your feet hit the forest floor, unfeeling to the jab of sharp rocks and the scratch of twigs. Don’t look back, just go, just go. You sprint until your lungs burn, until your mouth is parched and scratchy, until your limbs ache.

You stumble onto the ground and gulp. You can’t go any further. You’re too weak.

You shake on your hands and knees, fighting to catch your breath, trying to urge yourself on. 

Then you hear it. A giggle. A chirpish yelp and the splash of water. People? You crawl forward towards the noise. You lift yourself to look over the overturned trunk at the edge of the incline. There’s a lake below, there’s bodies splashing through the waters, screaming and laughing.

Oh, god! You stand and throw your hand up, mustering your strength to cry out. Help!

As you open your mouth, your voice shrivels up as your throat is clamped in a vice. You're dragged back away from the drop off and turned to face your villain. Clark stands naked amid the trees, seeming as towering and thick as any of them, as he grips your neck. He lifts you off your feet, your toes dangling above the ground.

You claw at his forearm as you wheezes. Your eyes well as he glares at you, shaking with rage. The chain falls from your hand and hits the floor, weighing on your ankle. He bears his teeth and hisses.

“Why would you do this?”

You can’t speak. Your head throbs as you reach to bat at his chest, begging silently for him to release you. ‘Sorry…’ you mouth, ‘sorry…’

“I love you, sweetie, I love you so much,” his voice quakes as he squeezes tighter, “why did you do this?”

Your lips open and close as your head swells violently. Your arms feel heavy as you grasp at him desperately. I can do better, I can do better. Just one more chance, honey. Please.

“You’re the one, you’re the one,” he chants tearfully, “I never loved anyone like I love you.”

“Cl-Clark,” you force out, “ple-ease—”

“No,” he crushes your throat so not a single wisp can get through, “I will never… love anyone that way I love you. Never…”

Your cheek twitches as your lashes glazes with tears. Your heart pounds in your chest as your mind swirls. His eyes fill with red light, glowing hotter and hotter. You see yourself in the scarlet glare; you in your tub, reading your favourite novel, that first day at the office when you nervously introduced yourself, your days in school, running between classes, your high school graduation, the little girl dancing in the fields, a princess out of time.

You see it all behind you and you see the emptiness ahead of you. You shake your head above his grip and use the last of your effort to mouth the words to him. The truth.

‘I….’ you make certain the movement is clear, even as your eyes threaten to roll into your skull, ‘hate.’ Your lips twist in a cruel smirk, ‘you.’

Your head lolls and you stare into his glowing irises. You’re ready. This is ever after. 

The world is consumed in a red flash and a striking heat. It sears to the bone and ends just as quickly. All is black and gone. A life burnt to cinder.

Stayed tuned for the epilogue

[ghost-writes00]

more modern day pevensie sibling headcanons

Peter:

-listens to imagine dragons.

-was kinda a jock in highschool but thought the kids who took it super seriously were weird.

-loves horses, begged his parents for riding lessons when he was little and dreams of owning a house with a stable.

-suffered from toxic masculinity in his youth, don't worry he got better.

-the best a giving gifts, he keeps a list on his phone of what people want/need and updates it frequently.

-distanced himself slightly from his parents after their reaction to Edmund coming out but hasn't cut them off completely.

-has a tictok account where he dances and their not thirst traps but he's a handsome guy who is genuinely having so much fun, and that's so attractive.

Susan:

-loves charli xcx and Sabrina carpenter.

-Lucy and Edmund Introduced her to chappell roan, her favorite song is good luck babe and she insists that it's nothing deeper.

-started having kitchen dance parties with her siblings when she noticed they were upset, everyone joins in and they don't stop until everyone is laughing.

-everyone's emergency contact.

-functions better under pressure.

-she has a very neat and tidy room and a set aesthetic.

-loves her siblings very much but can't wait to live on her own.

-has a aesthetic tumblr blog.

lucy:

-she really loves musicals. her favorite is wicked.

-dreams of starting a animal rescue.

-listens to Florence + the machine and the crane wives.

-really into Renaissance fares and gos all out with her costumes.

-her favorite holiday is Christmas and she still kinda believes in Santa.

-really good at card games, like crazy good.

-super messy room but knows where everything is.

-still has all her stuffed animals from when she was a baby and remembers all their names.

-collects lps toys.

Edmund:

-still has his webkinz account from childhood.

-amazing at chess and card games, taught lucy everything she knows.

-lowkey a goth, listens to mcr and she wants revenge.

-he plays lps with lucy and it will always end up about mean girls doing drugs.

-Black cat energy.

-can surprisingly hold his own in a fight.

-had mostly girl friends in highschool, but not in a gay best friend way, they were all lesbians.

-hes happy that he doesn't live with his parents anymore but wishes he had his own place.

-dropped out of law school, and entered a art college.

-secretary enjoys trash tv.