#idk I've been thinking about them lately
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Neither of them are correct
• Click for better quality (19/10/2023)
#idk I've been thinking about them lately#kinda wanna draw all the bursonas now#bc they're definitely all fucked up but assume they're the most normal of them all#also yes I know the rotary phone isn't an argbur thing#but I wanted to have it like they're both telling someone else abt the other#bursonas#bursona fanart#argbur#simpbur#wilbur soot#wilbur soot fanart#art#digital art#my art
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Gave Path Courage a new fit
#idk I've been thinking about them lately#I forgot to incorporate a heart somewhere in there but I'll figure it out later#my art
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I just realized it'll take the eng server almost a year to reach the 3D Cheka T pose model :' ) we're at book 7 part 6, and we get a new main story update every 2 to 3 months..
Anyway, do you wanna share some fun, spoiler-free shenanigans that happened in jp's server.? Just to have some crumbs to lick off the table until we get our own sandwich (my heart is empty and my soul is crying)
spoiler-free is pretty hard, especially considering. the, uhhh, particular turn that things take directly after 6. (like, the fact that the other characters are showing up probably counts on its own?) and I do think that if you can avoid getting spoiled, most of it is definitely better as a surprise! some of the genuinely best Twst moments are waiting for you. :D
if I may, however, present one of my favorite little throwaway bits with absolutely no context:
#art#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 part 10 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 part 10 spoilers#i've been thinking about 10 in particular lately. idk.#been sort of obsessed with the fact that azul calls his parents mama and papa#maybe it was only in the dream but i choose to believe this is just true of him because it's adorable#nothing more delightful than azul getting harassed by the twins and impotently shrieking about how his papa is a LAWYER he'll SUE them!!!!#azul your papa is a divorce attorney#i'm not sure he's ready to take on the literal ocean mafia#geeze though. y'all on eng have my deepest sympathies.#i have a hard enough time waiting between parts#(7-12 is coming for us next week and i'm already DYING of impatience 😭)#i cannot imagine also trying to dodge all the spoilers like a master thief in a hallway of laser beams#you all are stronger than i will ever be#that said i am VERY much enjoying vicariously reliving 6 via my activity page#rip meleanor...how i miss you...#man. i gotta draw more meleanor.#(to be fair this is true of me at any given moment)
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I can only take so much, but lately, they have replaced my reflection. And realize I'm just as bad as them.
#messyr#doodle#vent art#idk what im feeling but im just really tired- pessimistic and agitated lately#overthinking stuff about growth as a person LMAO. Envy that builds inferiority then dissolves into insecurity ew#ive yet to accept the truth that it will never get better- so i can only be there for others until i watch them go.#And I walk back to the same cage where I grew- bc the cage is all I know. I'd watch from afar and wait- wait for what? Idk#Genuinely happy and proud to those who worked hard for that success-- an ugly thought whispers to me thinking why cant I have the same#well- people w the same situations as me- knows how unfair life is so we work twice as hard. but sometimes... It's-- not enough.#And to an unfortunate fate- it'll never be enough. and it feels as if you amount to nothing.#I've been stuck for so long- I'm convinced enough that I cannot be helped. Still I cling onto the tiniest spark of hope.#bpd#abuse mention
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a day late, but i’m here now so let’s spread some love and support for pan folks!! i hope pansexual, panromantic, panalterous, pansensual, panplatonic, panaesthetic, and pangender (and any other pan related labels i might’ve missed) people have a lovely week. i love y’all so much.
pan week is december 6-12 💗💛💙
#pansexual#pansexuality#pan week#pan pride#pan positivity#panromantic#pansensual#panalterous#panaesthetic#panplatonic#pangender#pictures#mine#can we talk? i haven't been active on here lately because i feel like i'm running out of steam a bit#like i don't really know what to post anymore like i've exhausted everything already#and i'm not really interested in doing the sort of generic posts i used (the shoutout posts or the xyz is valid posts)#nothing wrong with them i'm just not there anymore#and i feel like there isn't much engagement on here either like folks have also lost interest in the blog or something#i don't know. i'm not on the pan account on twitter much either#but i'm still updating my pan timeline and pan rep lists so no worries there if you keep up with those#idk if you read these tags i'd be interested in hearing what you think about this.
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thinking about how the Mandalorians deciding "a flute is a perfect melee weapon" is actually a perfect microcosm of their culture - artistry and weaponry go hand in hand, be ready to defend yourself at a moment's notice, etc - and about Jaster calling Jango bes'bev'ika because yes you are violent and angry, yes you are a weapon, yes you can be something beautiful you can be art you can be both you can decide what you're used for
#i've been thinking about them a lot lately and idk why#jaster mereel#jango fett#accidentally left out the space in his name and autocorrect tried to make it “jango's fettuccine”
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day 20: hanahaki disease 🌻
#my art#daycare attendant#eclipse#ruin eclipse#cringetober#lately i've been thinking about how the reboot they get in ruin most likely deleted moon#if not sun as well#<- thoughts that haunt me forever#especially since eclipse seems so unaware of everything? so it makes it seem like the reboot reset everything#and even if sun thanks you at the end we still have no idea what happened to moon.. especially since they were clearly in pain#and if they remembered that then idk how nice and friendly they'd be acting regardless of if the virus is influencing them
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i'm having some thoughts rn, walk with me here—
01z as bored frat bros who has their eyes set on nerdy!reader. they'd go about their frat bro ways and make bets on who'd get in your pants the fastest. on the first day, the two of them approached you in the middle of the library, helping you hold your stuff. it was weird but you thought they were kind for volunteering to do that, even going out of your way to grab some extra books because they offered. over the course of a week, you'd be confused by the constant attention you're getting from two handsome seniors but you welcomed it because you have such a bad read on people. you thought sungchan was kind, his soft features fooled you into thinking so; you also thought eunseok was funny, his stupid jokes made you giggle uncontrollably— you didn't know how you ended up half-naked in the school's infirmary but there you were, sandwiched in between the same two handsome seniors you've been talking to for a week, writhing and moaning as they pleasured you over and over. "you're so adorable, i'm so glad we picked you." "fuck, you're taking us so well. you're so greedy, y/n." the kind tone from sungchan was nowhere to be found and eunseok was doing more than just making you giggle. eunseok and sungchan would smile and chuckle at how eager you were to keep up, as if you wanted to help. the two of them would agree on a truce just for today, wanting nothing more than to make you cum again and again, all for their own pleasure.
bonus: they agreed on the truce because they realized that this was becoming more than just a bet. that didn't mean they'd just let the other get to you first so they decided to share for now. also, eunseok would probably be the first one to catch feelings between the two ngl.
#ddolposts#sungchan hard hours#eunseok hard hours#ddlz: headcanons#idk i've been thinking about them so much lately#not in this specific genre but yeah#this one is kinda funny in my mind tho#lmaooo#im getting sleepy can you tell
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My little bebes ❤️
#spesilverweek#IDK IF THIS COUNTS BUT I DON'T CARE#(☆) 。.゚— Red#(☆) 。.゚— Silver#THEY ARE SIBLINGS#I've been thinking about them lately.... wiwiwi#I did this super fast since I'm kinda busy today BUT I NEED TO MAKE MORE THINGS WITH THEM WAAAA#imagine little Red telling Silver about his journey... big brother but it's still a baby too 😭#I'm so emotional about them rn#MY HONI TOLD ME 'IMAGINE RED TEACHING SILVER TO RIDE A BIKE' AND THAT IS JUST 😭😭😭😭😭#ughuhguh my bebes...#I feel like Silver respects Red A LOT and it's still kinda shy talking with him the first days he started to live with Maroon....#Red it's just excited to know he has a little brother now but he gives him his space but tries to be friendly and make him comfortable#I love my bebes that's it#I should make a tag for Silver too#mmmm#I'LL THINK ABOUT IT LATER#pokespe#pokemonspecial#🖍️ — Silly doodles
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[Some personal musings on my fav vg romance]
Been thinking about this lately but I don't believe there'll ever be a more romantic pairing for me than Solavellan. It's the way they tug at your heartstrings and stir your emotions. The way they start off seemingly as two nobodies (maybe even outcasts) finding a connection during a tumultuous time but both become larger than life (in the narrative) and turn into a mythical, all encompassing love story.
There's pain, there's laughter, cute moments of flirtation and unexpectedly steamy kisses - all mixed in a tangled knot of truths and lies. Pining, heartbreak, visits in dreams, a language they come to share and communicate in harmony. It's the tragedy of not being enough, of self-denial and an unwillingness to share one's greatest burdens - until at the very last moment, after being released from their duties, their earthly shackles, it is enough. Their love begins anew with a lifelong, no an eternal promise and atonement. It's not the end, not really, not as long as the fandom continues to thrive - like it has for the past decade - and I believe it'll be a ship that continues to endure for quite some time.
Plus let's not forget it's a relationship where you can ask questions and receive insight (and approval!) about the world of Thedas, about topics no other character has really addressed before - or at least not in quite a meaningful manner. And although we later learn Solas has greater motivations, it felt like a relationship that was connected to DAI's narrative at each turn - from the way Solas repeatedly asks after the Inquisitor's wellbeing and driving motives to how he reacts to events throughout the story. How his reactions colour and give further meaning to what we know and thought we knew. How that carries on into the next game and recontextualises the events of the previous game, giving DAI even further replayability.
I like how Solas is one of the (few imo) characters where it felt like you could have a proper discussion, where he didn't have to have the final word (or at least not always lol), and he could admit when he was wrong. I like how differently one could flavour their relationship depending on their own Lavellan, but ultimately the ending is similar - it's heartbreak or righteous anger then a long long ten years of an agonising what if, what next?
Lastly, I really love how this codex entry comes to encompass them far better than the original intended duo:
Except in Solas and Lavellan's case the impressions don't fade. They linger, they endure, they remain.
#solavellan#datv spoilers#da spoilers#veilguard spoilers#dragon age#idk I've been thinking too much about them lately and wanted to write my own feelings#so many of their in-game lines are romantic!!#gdl and alix wr really sold them as a pair#and ofc i have to thank weekes + the game testers that suggested solas as a romance in the 1st place#dai#da:v#lyna plays datv
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y'all have gotta learn to act normal about other people's characters
just bc you think they're hot doesn't mean the person who made them wants to know if, or how, you'd fuck them. i feel like that's common sense. it doesn't make it OK now just because it's not a real person you're sexualizing. you don't know what they mean to the person who made them, and if you do, well what the fuck, then.
#please excuse me i've just noticed really often lately#the way people will comment nasty nasty stuff on art and i have to wonder like#are you sure that the artist is cool w/ that? are you sure already that the person who owns or made that character is cool with that?#idk i had to watch a couple people oversexualize the characters from a friend's very personal & emotional game they made about trauma#i posted a turnaround of a model i did for a friend in a discord server and someone called it “the boykisser” just bc it was a cat?#like. do you know who the character is? do you know who owns the character? do you understand the context they're from?#if not. why would you say that to/about them.#ik those instances occured on their own and don't really warrant a whole post#but I've been seeing some REALLY uncomfy comments thrown at people's art every here and there#and i think some of y'all are forgetting how to behave for real.#this post & tags are a little half-baked i'm just kinda sick of seeing it. be normal. leave a nice comment or something
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couldn't a reason Mind and Heart hate each other be because of whole's love interest (sung in Haiku and Hidden In The Sand), like how Whole really liked them, but he thought that they would never love him, so basically his Heart wanted to ask them out and pursue a relationship, but his Mind refused thinking they would never love him. And its mostly because of that Whole split into three in the first place, so they both blame each other for it, and that's why they hate each other?
#neon spews actual nonsense#i had to write this down at least because i might forget and it's pretty late#i've been really thinking about the love interest a lot actually#someone told me their name was “Lee” and i think thats a fitting name#like i know some people call them “harmony” or “melody”#but harmony reminds me of gold and pink (like “harmonia”)#though its nice because the names are similar and like they are “Whole” in a sense but idk#and melody gives purple vibes and that is strictly a Heart colour#and lee gives off grey vibes with VERY SLIGHT hints of purple#and i like that because grey is like a bystander colour#Like Lee isn't important enough so they are part of the background#also the original and the cover of hidden in the sand had desaturated imagery so its grey and yeah#sorry for the tag ramble under another ramble lol#chonny jash#chonnys charming chaos compendium#cccc#cccc heart#cccc mind#cj heart#cj mind
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invasive
bo sinclair x afab!reader
rating: explicit
wordcount: 941
Reader POV. Your dreams take you to different places, but you’re never too far out of reach.
EXTREMELY dubious consent as always. Mostly weird prose, but there’s some smut thrown in here as well. Somnophilia, cockwarming.
A/N: It’s been raining for nearly a week straight where I am. Every single day has been grey. This idea burrowed into my brain and now I’m inflicting it upon you. Similar vibes to poacher’s dream. I just...really wanted to write something that reminded me of the feeling I was trying to capture with that fic. Somnophilia’s been on my mind ever since I read this absolutely electric fic by our lord and savior, @visceravalentines. Definitely go read it if you haven’t already. It features a lovely man who is not at all like the one in this fic. We should all make out with him instead, probably. We won’t.
You’re lost in a quagmire of green, knee-deep in muck.
You’re running from something, but you aren’t sure what. You feel like it must be close. You can hear crashing, the sloshing of something at your heels. The water is dark here, it’s deep. You need to watch where you’re going, but you won’t. It feels familiar.
Maybe, if you push a little further, you’ll reach the edge of the marshland.
The trees crowd around each other, their bulbous trunks bursting out of thick green algae. It’s so dense here, impossibly heavy with warmth. It soaks through your clothes, bleeds under your skin. If someone sliced you open and cracked your bones apart, you’re sure you'd flare hot. Chalky white and exposed, scattering chunks of marrow over the swamp.
Things end up here when they have nowhere left to go. They get caught in the hanging moss and become part of the scenery.
You’ll make a mess of this place, but it won’t matter. There are animals here, bigger than you, and they’ve been waiting. You couldn’t ever run very fast. These kinds of games are about losing.
It wasn’t behind you, anyway. It caught your ankle underwater and pulled you down, tumbled you underneath its weight. You’re spinning wildly, rolling and churning, filling your lungs with water (but it’s so hot here, and you like that stuff).
It’ll play with its food until your neck snaps. Trailing blood in the water, dragging you back to a den squashed in the mangroves. A place of dead things, hobbled together out of reeds and a dozen people’s bones. You wonder if they sparked like yours, if they’re kindling too.
Your body is perched on top of a waterlogged tire and hid away until it starts to rot. It makes it easier to eat when it’s soft like that, when the botflies come. Practical things are sometimes the cruelest.
God, you’ve never been anywhere this hot.
You wake up with your face pressed into the pillow, huffing out shallow breaths. The room is bathed in pale light, milky grey with the faintest wash of blue.
The grey disorients you. There was so much light before. You blink a bit in the gloom. Water is still rushing away above you, beside you. It’s impossible to tell what time it is or how long you’ve been asleep. It feels like forever. You lived and you died long before you were spat out here.
Out of the heat of your dream, you’re surprised to feel your skin prickle with goosebumps. You must have thrown the sheets off in your sleep. The position you’re in feels unnatural, one leg hoisted away from you. It rests on something solid, something warmer than this room.
You feel so full (of water, of bugs in your belly eating away the soft tissue, of life).
Stop, look at the window. You’re not underwater. It’s raining, dripping tears down the glass. You’re awake again and the fullness is the pressure between your legs.
Bo’s hand cups at your breast, jiggling the flesh to test its weight in his palm. He catches your nipple between his fingers, tugs at it. When he rolls his hips, you let out a soft little noise, mouthing at the pillowcase. His cock pulses inside you, thick and warm.
He’s already so deep.
“Couldn’t help myself.” He murmurs into your ear. “Not with you movin’ round like that.”
His hand wraps around your thigh, easing you down. You let out a whine as you feel your walls stretch around him. He hisses out a breath, digging his fingers into your skin.
“You’re so wet, baby.” His voice is husky, the rasp of sleep still thick around his words. You can feel how slick you are, how easy it is for him to push in. “What were you dreamin’ ‘bout?”
“You.” You’re not lying, not exactly. He doesn’t need to know the specifics.
It’s the right answer, or, at least, the one he was expecting. You’re never really sure with him. It doesn’t matter, really. Your dream is getting away from you now, chased away by his hands and his lips and his cock. You were somewhere. He was there. You remember heat, you remember weight.
(Or maybe that’s all there is now and you’re getting things confused.)
“Thought you were tryin’ to kill me, baby.” He nips along your neck. You clench down around him, moaning into the pillow. “Asleep, squeezin’ me like that.”
Good, you almost say. If I wrap myself around you enough times, you can’t breathe. Neither can I, but I only need to do it once.
People get rid of snakes, throw them off into the swamp. They’re not supposed to be there. But this looks enough like their idea of home, doesn’t it? They’ll adapt or they’ll get eaten, and that’s all you could ask for.
His breath is warm on your skin. You reach back, your fingers curling into his hair.
“You ready to stop teasin’ me?”
(I couldn’t stomach you if I did. I’m not supposed to be here, anyway.)
You almost ask him if he had the same dream. Was it hard, waiting for the rot to set in? Waiting for softness? Did you taste better like that? Would he do it again if you asked him to? Could you return the favor?
Your hand tightens in his hair, giving it a sharp tug. His teeth are on your neck and it hurts in the way it’s supposed to hurt—scorching away inside you.
You’ve never been anywhere that hot, but maybe he has. Maybe he’ll take you there.
“Yes.”
#something something burmese pythons swallowing alligators whole in the everglades something something invasive species something something#house of wax#bo sinclair#bo sinclair x reader#slashers x reader#slasher fandom#x reader#my fics#I've been under a lot of work stress lately lmao and I've been having a lot of weird dreams#bingo bongo himself featured in two of them. for the first time ever surprisingly.#u would think w/the amount of space I give him in my mind palace I'd have dreamed of him already but nope#my brain summoning this hick like. BITCH!! shut tf up about work for two seconds and look @ this jdshjhfdjjhfdj#peanut brain PEANUT BRAIN this week#so it felt fitting to write somethin weird n dreamy (nightmarish) w/him. idk#it's the vibe on this accursed day#this is...............somethin. idk what. but it's somethin.
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Someone killed my boss last night and he sent me this I'm so fired
god I can't wait to make this comic.
#not me making a prelaunch link so I can share it on art of them that I do and then immediately being like hm#feels kind of weird to link a comic that doesnt exist yet#HAHAHAHAH#theres just no pleasing me#oh well I'll stick to my guns. I thought about it a long time#and doing things that feel weird is kind of the name of the game when it comes to making art#we were legion#zagan#this is so funny to me#its like not even that funny but#I love him. idk I think because I know what the comic is gonna be like stuff like this is 1 million times funnier to me#he sucks so bad and it would suck to read if he were the only one in the comic but because luciel is also there#then its just funny. cause juxtaposition#I love luciel too but theyre less good for standalone drawings and memes without comic context#so my brains like erm... theres nothing there....#also my tags are bugging out when I type them on the ocmputer idk how to explain whats happening but its kind of annoying#jumping around all over the place. makes it hard to read while I'm typing them. its fine#if theres typos its cause somethings going weird with my computer#lately when I've opened firefox its just shaking all over the place#til I alt tab out of it and back to it. I have straight up no idea why#and my internet has been bugging out. the LAN connection keeps flickering and then going out...??#YES I switched the ethernet cable connecting the modem and the router NO I dont know whats going on#I dont wanna deaaaaaal wiiiithhh customer serviceeee its fine. I'll do it later if switching the coax cable doesnt help#uh. anyways none of that matters cause I can still make my fuckin comics babeyyy#as long as I've got my comics. I'm good. though it is annoying when I cant look up references or spelling of words cause I do that constant#but its fine!#love I can draw without internet I dont even notice when it goes out sometimes aughajkghagj#anyways I'm super excited about this comic and if you're intereted theres a presave link now so#yeay#I'll post places other than webtoon but I'm just doing webtoon early so TTA readers can switch over easier
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Wow, I think I just had a revelation..
I've always been very skeptical about my life, my future and everything else, but I wasn't sure why until now. Apparently, because both of my parents neglected me since I can remember, I had no one who believed in me and my abilities, which has made my adulthood to be full of doubts and uncertainty. I tried to dispel this fact by telling myself that maybe they weren't so bad and no family is ever perfect, right? I tried to live a lie and reject the truth for too long. But I'm perfectly sure of one thing: I refuse to give up and turn into a person I am not and will never become.
#I've been thinking too much about my grief lately.. time to lock in (says a guy who'll neither lock in or stop thinking about grief)#I'm currently in the four stage of grief#i think i need a cigarette#or a whole pack of them#or a paper bag at last#idk why i'm posting this#maybe im just bored and overthinking stuff#and i love to overshare <3#ok time to hit the emo pose in my bed and cry myself to sleep#jk I won't even fall asleep#lol. lmao even#rambles#should i tag this?#ughb#actually cptsd#actually bpd#cptsd vent#bpd vent#actually borderline#bpd thoughts
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Once, Always
(Edmund has an abundance of birthdays)
.
“I say,” murmured Edmund sleepily as the fire burned low. “When do you suppose it is here? I mean—what time of year? Do you think it’s the beginning of September, the same as it was in England?”
“Summer,” said Lucy. “Certainly summer.”
Peter agreed. “I think it must be Highgrass, if I had to guess. Perhaps later. Greenroof?”
“If it’s Greenroof, then Edmund gets another birthday,” Lucy sighed. “Eleven or twelve, Ed?”
“Neither,” put in Susan. “A thousand, if you’re going to rationalize it that way. Now everyone hush, please, and get some sleep.”
.
Edmund’s birthday was the fifteenth day of Greenroof by the Narnian reckoning. Greenroof, late summer, when all the leaves were dark and broad. Narnian summers were long, but Greenroof was the last and best of the summer months. Greenroof was hunts through the dense foliage, blackberries heavy with juice, lazy afternoons, bonfires, wild romps, and the pleasant kind of sweat. Edmund’s birthday celebrations were always held on Dancing Lawn in the old days: the sort of long, laughter-bright nights that summer was made for.
.
The second time Edmund celebrated his eleventh birthday, it was just past three months since he and his siblings had returned home from the country. Their house was glass-strewn and battered, but still standing when they arrived home. By August it was beginning to feel really safe again, but sometimes Edmund still woke in the night to find his mother standing silent in the doorway, drinking in the sight of her two sons returned to her.
The professor sent one of Ivy’s famous spice cakes for Edmund’s birthday. It arrived tied in red string, which made Lucy reminisce fondly about dear Mr. Tumnus. Edmund’s siblings pooled their allowances to buy him the new Nero Wolfe detective novel, and his mother gave him a new cap and an electric torch.
“How do you feel?” his mother asked over dinner.
“I don’t feel any older, if that’s what you mean,” he said. “Eleven feels just the same as ten did yesterday.”
.
All four of them missed their birthdays the first year in Narnia. Too much else was going on at the time, and none of them was quite sure when their birthdays were supposed to be besides. The measurement of time was a thoroughly tangled issue.
The Narnian year had four hundred days even, divided into fourteen months of inconsistent lengths. Furthermore, the kingdom had only known winter for the last hundred years. The Narnians themselves were still remembering how the calendar worked in a world where the seasons changed. They didn’t have the words yet to explain it to their sovereigns.
.
“Eustace,” said Edmund, “your journal is wrong.”
“Give me that,” Eustace scowled at once. “I know it’s wrong, but there’s no need to rub my face in it. Aren’t I trying to make up for how I was?”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant. The month is wrong. You’ve got September written here, but time works differently in Narnia than it does in the Other Place. Haven’t you noticed that it’s summer, not autumn?”
“Oh.” Eustace shrugged. “I followed Occam’s Razor and assumed that the climate here was different rather than time itself.”
“Occam’s what?” This was Lucy.
“Occam’s Razor: the simplest solution to a problem is the most likely—never mind. Well, go on, what month is it?”
“Highgrass,” said Lucy.
“July,” said Edmund at the same moment. “More or less.”
.
They worked it all out one afternoon as the second spring of their reign was ending. Peter and Susan wrote out the English calendar on one stack of parchment while Edmund and Lucy sat down with the Narnian calendar and penciled in seasonal markers as best they could manage.
“The first crocuses came up right at the end of Cleardome, yes?”
“Yes, I think so. And the snowdrops were in their full glory that month too.”
“How do you want to deal with leap year?”
“Just forget about it. Narnia doesn’t have anything similar, so I think twenty-eight days for February is fine for our purposes.”
“Magnolia in Laceveil, yes?”
“Laceveil is a good marker in general. We ought to set that as May and go from there.”
Birthdays were guesses, no matter how much counting they did. Yet as memories of England receded and Narnia’s world blossomed into everything they knew, those guesses solidified into fact. Edmund turned eleven for the first time on the fifteenth day of Greenroof. He was the first of his siblings to celebrate a proper birthday in Narnia.
.
The fourth time Edmund turned twelve, he received another electric torch to replace the one he’d lost. He laughed for half a minute, holding that gift in his hand.
“Really, you should have expected it,” said Susan primly.
"I did."
Their mother tsked and added something about keeping track of one’s belongings, but that was alright. His siblings understood.
Edmund flicked on the light and watched the beam land on the far wall across the living room. Bright at the edges and dark towards the center where the bulb was. He moved his wrist sideways and watched the spot of light follow.
.
Edmund might have forgotten about his birthday aboard the Dawn Treader if Lucy hadn’t remembered. She conspired with the cook to have a spread of Edmund’s favorite foods at supper (such as could be managed at sea) and coerced Rynelf into playing jigs on his fiddle afterwards. While they were dancing, Caspian called for a cask of his best wine, and soon the ship’s whole company was making merry like only Narnians could.
“Didn’t you have a twelfth birthday the last time you were in Narnia?” Caspian asked curiously as the party was dying down.
“Yes,” Edmund replied, “and the time before that too. Confused yet?”
“Ed has all the luck,” Lucy pouted playfully. “We always seem to return to Narnia in the summer, so he gets all the extra birthdays.”
Caspian's face lit up. “How extraordinary! When’s yours then?”
“Cleardome. There’s a year and a half between Ed and me, and he never lets me forget it.”
“It’s really not as exciting as all that,” Edmund added. “We’re not living our lives backwards, or unstuck in time, or any such nonsense. It’s more like—our lives are folded in on themselves, you see? But never the same way twice.”
“I think it’s more like music than anything else,” Lucy said, a kind of fond wistfulness in her voice.
“Yes,” said Edmund. “I know what you mean.”
.
On the thirteenth of Greenroof, the Telmarines laid down their arms and surrendered to Old Narnia. The next day, messengers were sent forth across the land with news of the surrender and with terms for the Telmarines. Caspian’s coronation followed, and then Edmund woke and it was his birthday again.
Breakfast that morning was long and languid, for Peter and Susan knew that they must say farewell to Narnia, even if the younger ones did not. They lingered round the table with Caspian and Trumpkin and the rest, and presently Peter offered a toast.
“To my brother King Edmund, who is eleven and twelve and sixty-three and thirteen hundred years old today.”
Everyone raised their cups and repeated, “King Edmund.” Caspian nodded and added, “Long live the king,” with an almost ironic tilt to his head.
Naturally, Edmund nodded back. “And to you, King Caspian. Long may you reign.”
Another round of assent followed, and then Lucy cleared her throat. “But also,” she said, “To late summer and the rebirth of Our Narnia. And to the land, the sea, the hills, the trees, the sky, Cair Paravel-by-the-sea and Dancing Lawn and all the flowers that are still in bloom. And to the color green. To all of us here today, and to those who are gone. And to Aslan.”
“Here, here.”
There were tears in Susan’s eyes now. “Happy birthday,” she whispered, and squeezed Edmund’s hand tight. Edmund looked down at his plate, fiercely overcome with love for this place and these people. In a strict, chronological sense, it had been less than a month since his last birthday, but how did the saying go? Time was just a tangled string, or falling snow, or whatever else Aslan told it to be.
.
“Bother,” said Edmund, “I’ve left my new torch in Narnia.”
Everyone chuckled at this, but Susan said, “Wait a year. We’ll get you a new one for your next birthday.”
#Edmund has a late August birthday#which means that Lucy's must be early in the year if 'really there was only a year between them' holds#AND we still choose to go with the birth years from Jack's timeline#and idk i just really love the idea of the Pevensies repeating their birthdays and just kinda reflecting on it#not in an angsty 'adults in kids bodies' way (ugh)#but just in a sort of 'huh. what a neat opportunity to think about#who i am and who i've been and who i'm becoming' kind of way#that pulls out the growing up themes from the series and examines them#idk i hope that's what i've done here#this is a veeeeerrrrry loose re-write of a really old middle school piece about Lucy having multiple eleventh birthdays#it just makes more sense if it's Edmund given the setup with Prince Caspian#anyway#narnia#the traitor who mended#leah stories#pontifications and creations#working on crossposting to ao3 (hopefully w/i the hour)
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