#watched this movie n this is girlhood

[coachbeards]

sisterhood of the traveling pink pants

[sugarcandydoll]

my fav part abt being a desi dolly is having to watch bollywood movies & indian soap operas & eating pakistani food & wearing pink chooriyan & payal with ghungroo & pretty mehendi & listening to bomb af music hehe ♡🪔💕

[naturalbornluvr]

top 5 fav movies and why? :D

haiii i’m bad at explaining why i like stuff but ima try 4 u hehe

1. zero day bcs it makes u think. super interesting, amazing acting, feels so real, makes u laugh, makes u cry, makes u cum, makes u watch it over and over

2. the virgin suicides bcs it’s like girlhood as a movie. love the girls n the visuals n the soundtrack, HATE trip.

3. girl, interrupted bcs it’s funny and sad at the same time, makes u feel empty after watching it (that’s how u know it’s good), good visuals & characters, brings u into the world

4. thirteen bcs it’s relatable (i’ve been in evie & tracy’s positions b4), love the aesthetic & clothes, also makes u feel empty after watching it

5. american psycho bcs it’s funny, there’s a good plot, & pat is super babygirl

[peach-and-bugs]

💚Lottie Matthews SFW Alphabet💚

💚Read the NSFW Alphabet here!💚

Fanfiction master list

disclaimer: don't repost my work. I only post on Tumblr and on Ao3. anything else is stolen and should be removed immediately

Warnings: Nope! All safe/fluff, mention of alcohol though

Word Count: 2,278

A/N: Hello Loves! Back again with more for Lottie! This time it's her SFW alphabter! As always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading!💚

Lottie Matthews Tag List: @elliesjoints

Yellowjackets Tag List: @frasersgf @minimickzy

General Tag List: @summergeezburr

-💚-

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Lottie does what I call quiet affection. She’s not into extravagance or making a huge display out of things and she never has. She prefers keeping your love private, but don’t mistake that for her keeping you secret! On the contrary, she’s very upfront about her marital status with others, it's just not all out and in your face. Her love languages are acts of service and touch for sure. She’s always got a hand on you in some way when she can help it and its very common to come home to her having done or actively doing a chore for you that she knows youve been dreading

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

As an adult, she doesn't seem like the best friend type. But as a teenager, she was the classic outgoing girl's best friend. She loved doing each other's nails, watching corny movies late at night with popcorn, and having sleepovers. She loves those moments of girlhood but craves them still as an adult. If she did make an adult best friend, in some way I think she’d try and reclaim and relive that feeling, as childish as it might make her feel

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Lottie is a huge cuddler. She loves being tangled up in you, face to face so she can press you into her chest and she can rest her chin on top of your head. She loves snuggling up under blankets with you to watch tv or a movie ans sneakily sliding her hand up your top 

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Lottie adores domestic life. She loves mundane tasks like cooking and cleaning, especially when she can do those tasks for you. She enjoys the praise she gets and the relaxation she can feel in your body from having done a task for you. She doesn’t like living alone, so moving in together would be suggested and welcomed quite early. She loves sharing her space with you. She’s the type to want to go the whole ten miles. Living together, getting married, and having kids. She wants to give her kids some of the childhood wonder she worries she missed out on

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

I think she’d be shattered. I genuinely don’t know how she’d do it because I see her as someone as an adult who’s so careful with dating, that she’s only getting into a serious relationship when she feels she’s found the one. If she felt like she had to leave, it would likely be because she worried she was weighing you down. There would be a lot of tears and drama and she’d feel awful, but she firmly believes in the phrase “If you love something, let it go”

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married?)

This lady wants to put a ring on your finger so badly! I think she dreamed of a rustic farmhouse wedding as a teenager with all her closest friends and family, and now she envisions that with you both in white, out by her little part of the lake. I could see it taking some time though. She wouldn't want to rush into things and scare you off. She seems like the type to wait till you show obvious interest in big-life changing decisions that she can’t misconstrue, like getting married or having kids

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Lottie is just the most tender girl. She’s so fragile with every touch like she’s afraid of breaking whatever’s in her hands, you included. Sometimes her touch is so soft it feels like she’s only hovering over your skin. You have to remind her that you aren't going to fade away or disappear and she can hold onto you. 

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Her hugs are warm and enveloping like she’s wrapping you up in a blanket or a bubble made just for the two of you. She gets especially huggy when she’s tired or drunk

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

She tries to wait till you say it first but slips up and ends up saying it first. She says it very casually ans naturally too, likely after laughing at some corny joke you make without thinking about it. It takes her a moment to realize she even said it at all, but before she can worry and possibly take it back you assure her you love her too 

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

I mentioned it in a headcanon request but Lottie is a self-pity type of jealous. She feels very secure in her relationship with you, but if before you established it and she sees someone flirting with you or she’s got something impairing her cognitive thinking skills (best example, she's drunk) she becomes a mopy baby, keeping you away not because she’s mad at you but she’s pitying herself 

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Like everything Lottie does, there's a warm tenderness behind every one of her kisses. She loves kissing your hands and fingers, or holding onto your hips tight as she kisses your lips, smiling at the taste of you. She loves kissing your nose and the corners of your smile, as well as your thighs, collarbones, and neck. Any exposed skin she can get her hands on she’ll kiss you there, no questions asked

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

She’s great with kids! She loves just listening to them talk about the magical worlds that they come up with. I think had she not had all the trauma from the crash, in another life she became an elementary school teacher, maybe teaching between 4th and 6th graders

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Lottie is often up first because she’s got things to do, but she always leaves the coffee maker on for you and oftentimes gets some chores done around the house before you get up and she has to start getting to work. On weekends she likes to gently wake you up and bribe you with making breakfast

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

She loves listening to music while cooking dinner, often distracting you to dance and nearly burning whatever you might be cooking because she's just too infatuated with you and your laugh. She also enjoys late-night reading in bed with her glasses on while you cuddle up beside her. Her free hand often trails over your stomach and your side so that she can feel your breathing even out as you fall asleep beside her

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Lottie wouldn’t tell you a lot about the wilderness, at least not in detail. But I think she’d reveal details about her life pre-crash very freely. But her teen years during and post-crash are somewhat of a blur. Once a heavy level of trust is established between the two of you, I think she’d be a lot more open to talking about it, but only when you’re alone ans something reminds her of something that happened out there. She wants you to know what triggers her, what she did out there because she wants to be herself with you and be accepted and taken in full as she is, but that’s extremely hard out of her fear of rejection. It would take quite some time and trial and error, but overall, she feels like one of not the more open out of the yellowjackets when it comes to their time in the wilderness

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

She’s extremely patient, especially with you. They’re a very strong line of communication between the two of you, so it’s very hard to upset one another. However, if she’s already stressed, small things that other people do can tend to set her off. It’s pretty easy to catch these triggers, but settling her down again when she’s upset can be a challenge. She always feels bad after getting upset with someone but you assure her it’s alright end encourage her to apologize and communicate what she may have been feeling

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)

Lottie’s mind is a steal trap. She remembers absolutely everything without even trying, but she doesn’t brag about it. She hopes that you don’t notice it

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

She often fondly thinks about watching you in her garden, admiring all her different plants as the sun shone down on you from above, illuminating the color in your cheeks and the sparkle in your eyes. At that moment, she realized just how beautiful she truly found you

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

She’s protective, but not in the way that she’ll get physically violent or aggressive with someone who’d bother you. She’s more concerned with getting you out of a bad situation than interfering with the perpetrator if that makes sense. She’d rather take you away and make sure you're alright because of your her priority. Not some asshole who felt the need to bother you. 

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, and everyday tasks?)

Lottie seems like a huge tryhard to me, so she’s gonna try in everything romantically because she wants you both to be satisfied to your fullest in every aspect of her relationship, so if there's something you want, she’ll attempt to achieve it to the best of her capability. But she prefers the small things, like taking her time doing a task for you, or when you try cooking something new for you both or coming home to a new bouquet that you picked from the garden that afternoon

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

She’s got a nasty habit of overworking herself, especially into the night. She often wakes up in the night when she’s overwhelmed or stressed and you need to pull her from her computer or the kitchen and back to bed before she wears herself out

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

She’s more concerned than you might think. Of course, she’s one to embrace the unique beauty that comes with age, however, sometimes when she notices a few more grey hairs than she expected or new wrinkles forming on her face it can get to her and she can grow concerned. You always tell her that she's always beautiful, even more so with age and she finds comfort in that

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

She hates to admit it, but she can be quite clingy. She doesn't like being apart for long and is at her most content when you’re within arms reach of her. Of course, she understands a need for time apart or if you want time for yourself, and that's something she’s willing to work on, but she adores you and at the very least wants to know how your day has been. She always calls if you're apart for a day to check in with you

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

I mentioned it before but she’s a big reader. She loves getting her information from books and it's quite common to find her curled up under a blanket in her free time, book in hand with a cup of tea sat beside her, her reading glasses sliding down her nose. But she’s the kind of reader that highlights and annotates her books, regardless of what they’re about. She just likes being able to flip to where she was and read sections to you without having to go on a wild goose chase to find them

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

She’s one of those people with the cilantro gene and she hates it, insisting that it tastes like soap. She’s not usually picky with food, but if she tastes cilantro it’s an absolute no

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Lottie twitches in her sleep and she sleep mumbles. She’s very clingy and always has a hand on you when she’s asleep, but she’s an active dreamer and will murmur things under her breath when she’s out cold. Often, when she’s not having nightmares she’ll say all kinds of sweet things. It's very sweet when she takes naps on the couch with you, her head in your lap while you read. She'll hum and smile to herself when you run her fingers through her hair and she’ll nuzzle into your leg. You know shes dreaming about you then

[veryqueermovies]

It's Black History Month, here's a list of Black Queer Films and Documentaries to watch all year long. This is just a fraction of the movies that exist, many people on Letterbox'd have plenty of lists for Black Queer movies that you should check out.

Please check trigger warnings, some of these films deal with very heavy topics, protect yourselves.

Portrait Of Jason (1967)

The Color Purple (1982)

Tongues Untied (1989)

Looking For Langston (1989)

The Women Of Brewster Place (1989)

Paris Is Burning (1990)

Young Soul Rebels (1991)

Black Is ... Black Ain't (1994)

When Night Is Falling (1995)

Set It Off (1996)

The Watermelon Woman (1996)

Destiny (Dakan) (1997)

Holiday Heart (2000)

Punks (2000)

Madame Satã (2002)

Noah's Ark (2004)

Brother To Brother (2004)

The Aggressives (2005)

Rent (2005)

Rag Tag (2006)

Noah's Ark: Jumping The Broom (2008)

Mississippi Damned (2009)

Fig Trees (2009)

Difficult Love (2010)

Gun Hill Road (2011)

Pariah (2011)

Leave It On The Floor (2011)

The Skinny (2012)

Stud Life (2012)

Naz & Maalik (2014)

Blackbird (2014)

Out In The Night (2014)

Girlhood (2014)

Dear White People (2014)

Bessie (2015)

The Eiffel Tower Mystery (2015)

Tangerine (2015)

Kiki (2016)

Suicide Kale (2016)

Jewel's Catch One (2016)

Check It (2016)

I Am Not Your N*gro (2016)

Moonlight (2017)

The Pearl Of Africa (2017)

The Wound (2017)

Good Manners (2017)

Saturday Church (2017)

Rafiki (2018)

Shakedown (2018)

Hearts Beat Loud (2018)

Pier Kids: The Life (2018)

Selah And The Spades (2019)

Trigonometry (2020)

Kelet (2020)

The Christmas Lottery (2020)

Disclosure (2020)

Tahara (2020)

Boy Meets Boy (2021)

The United States vs Billie Holiday (2021)

Anything's Possible (2022)

[fanfought]

music and film

music : what kind of music do they like ? do they have any specific favorite artists / bands ?

her favourite genre is definitely indie/alternative, but she also enjoys pop and classic rock a lot. she also casually enjoys a lot of old early 2000's kpop (girls generation, brown-eyed girls, 2NE1.)

she definitely gravitates towards artists like mitski, noah kahan, gregory alan isakov, maggie rogers, phoebe bridgers, florence + the machine, laufey.

she also heavily gravitates towards wlw artists like renee rapp, fletcher, muna, girl in red, kehlani, hayley kiyoko, brandi carlile, boygenius, chappell roan, beabadoobee. and in addition, she really enjoys music from taylor swift, sabrina carpenter, halsey, lady gaga, in terms of top 40.

she has a very large classic rock playlist for when she's at the dojo, it is so big that you'd think a middle-aged man made it. bryan adams, guns n' roses, the who, CCR, aerosmith, black sabbath, led zeppelin, quite literally every classic rock hype song you can think of. the only other playlist she will train to is the playlist she has labeled "glitter gel pen songs".

film : what’s their favorite movies ( or in the case of muses that haven’t seen them, what WOULD be their favorite movies ? )

there is no universe where suki would not have been raised on the films of our lord and saviour michelle yeoh. crouching tiger, hidden dragon will always be her favourite movie, and the sword fight scene between jen and shu lien was absolutely suki's bi awakening. though suki has seen a lot of classic martial arts movies, michelle yeoh movies were quintessential to her upbringing and always her favourites. she does also have a soft spot for kill bill vol. 1 and 2, particularly because she had a crush on every woman in that movie.

she also really loves girlhood/womanhood movies like sisterhood of the traveling pants, ladybird, little women (all of the iterations), steel magnolias, fried green tomatoes, frances ha, and the farewell. these are her feel-good "i need to have a good cry" movies.

on the complete opposite of the spectrum, she LOVES horror movies. supernatural and science fiction horror are her favourite subgenres, she doesn't really enjoy slasher films much at all. favourites include but are not limited to alien, aliens, the exorcist, the vvitch, the conjuring, the blair witch project, nope, the thing, jennifer's body, and annihilation. kudos to anyone who can make it through a horror movie with suki, she gets so happy when someone watches them with her.

[adorablemaneater]

it makes me so so so happy tht ppl like mystical coquette, bc so much of my girlhood was growing up on an island, and loving the occult and being in nature, watching as many old movies as I could, wearing flowers in out hair and making flower corwns, nd i still spend as much time as I can in the forest, now my spirituality and deity work is such a big part of who i am, i'm just so happy i can express tht n coquette and ppl like get it.

[overturetoanadventure]

The immediate gratification of cleaning heals my soul like nothing else can. Moved everything off the counters, scrubbed them down well and wiped ‘em dry. After placing everything back, I get to see the reflections of the items like ahhhh chefs fucking kiss. Same for the stove, oven, appliances, sinks. What a thing of beauty 🥹 tomorrow I hope to sweep and steam mop the kitchen, sweep and vacuum the living room, and water all of the plants.

Spent majority of the day with Arlette, with a lil bit of Monique and Fatima sprinkled in and it was so nice to enjoy everyone’s company.

Also watched monkey man today and I love the parasocial catharsis that a good revenge plot provides, at the most surface level enjoyment of its plot.

Also a lil update on the cheating boyfriend bullshit; I’d reached out to the other woman on insta a few hours after I found out and hadn’t contacted him since my texts from Saturday night. He called at noon, I let him talk himself in circles and trying to spin a way out of just the initial anger that he is aware of from Saturday since I didn’t tell him I found out about the rest on my own afterwards. I really enjoy the icy detachment that clarity can provide where I know I’ve done all I could and now it’s out of my hands so no point in stressing over it. Anyways he tried to end the conversation with an ultimatum of well he might just leave me to which I responded if that’s what he wants to do 🤷🏽‍♀️ and ended that call. Later he sends random memes, I continue to ignore. Then around five thirty he’s texting me that he wants to talk and if I don’t pick up he’ll just have to continue dangerously sending messages asking me to not give up on us instead. Then proceeds to call me a little over twenty times but I’d already set my phone to dnd without letting repeated calls come through. I send a text saying I’ll be enjoying time with friends and can call once I’m home for the night so he backs off. It feels like he’s losing it a little bit and I’m honestly enjoying watching the unraveling.

Anyways while I’m watching the movie, the other woman responds and the essence of her messages were that she already knows he’s been ‘fooling around’ but that they’re in a ‘gray area’ in their relationship right now and I’m being presumptuous to have considered myself his exclusive girlfriend while we dated. Lmao okay babe. He’s shit talked you to the sun and back and I would try to vouch for you out of a place of girlhood and also bc I doubted that you were the only problem in the relationship. Anyway, essentially I responded to her as nicely as I could muster the following paraphrased blurb: listen bitch i didn’t come here to beg you to leave him. I thought you were in the dark too so was just tryna help you save your time and energy but I don’t play second fiddle and never have. You can keep him and have a great life together; meanwhile, I’m out. Peace n blessings ✌🏽

I cannot fathom settling for someone who does not want you and disrespectfully goes out of their way to show it?? Then again, it’s simply not for me to understand. I know he doesn’t deserve it but solely so he’ll leave me the fuck alone from here on, I’ll have the final conversation with him tomorrow and breakup and be done with this trifling ass matter 🥳

[thissacrificeisnecxesary]

The question asked of me; should we eat day old microwaved fish

Me a diplomat: Pavement, evil horrible girly girl pop girly 8th grade kendall Roy teenage girl placebo drunk drunk girl who is loud and loud and loud and loud and you shouldn’t love her but you do and it’s not because overall she’s actually a really good person or really even that pretty (pretty enough to be. I’m a movie) (not really) but you love her anyway cause she’s the main character like plot armor from the audience, you are good and you are me so I am good. Even if I’m not very good it’s like I’m still good cause ultimately, she’s leaning is she not? So maybe that’s what it is. Eccentricities. Lux Lisbon if she didn’t wanna kill herself or, Melinda sturniolo if she didn’t wanna kil herself or possibly Katina’s everdeen if she didn’t wanna kill herself Sierra Sierra something something mascara, clean girl but not really, smart girl but not really, cool girl but not really, popular girl but not really, if you’re anything are you still a woman? Or is girlhood just to hard. You’re shivering and it’s kinda-of funny looking. I don’t need no timekeeper I don’t need noninterlocuter and baby you would look. A little cuter day by day. Pavement is how we started this business. Which is more accurately to say we built this city on math rock and virginity. That was mean. I really like pavement. I bet you do FUCKIGN faggot. Holy shirt what the the hey man you can’t say that- and you definitely can’t call me that cause I’m not gay my girlfriend is right here. She shcks tho yeah? What are you talking about? You just sorta grabbed onto the closest piece of heterosexuality, that couldn’t see your disturbing aversion (complimentary) and you held on tight. But she sucks man. Not a good girlfriend. We’re actually very happy. Oh I’m sure you are classic fag on vampire cunt action. You’re jellous. Jesus Christ man. What not like in a hornet way. Okay. Whag? What what what what- why do you let girls in who have crushes. What is the problem with a girl who has a teeny little crush, that’s a little tiny psychotic obsession but that’s just whag it means to be a live. Love is a wound and it should make you want to die and throw up. I guess I don’t totally disagree with all of that. Bug fuck my clown alter ego tells you that to live is to

Wash your hands

Pick sleep over the moon girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl is there an inherent disconnection between my lover because of

- autism

- Growing up poor

- Growing up white

- Developmental disability

- Incest

- Furry porn

- The thing

- Undefined man mental illness #1

- Too many drugs

- Slender man

- The nightmares

- The neglect

- The great molasses flood

Clss rae se amles semaj

The story he told him was of the camel and the other one something religious maybe? Or another animal like a fable, Socrates; but the guy who made fables. Jesse james but it’s Christian bald, Christian bale on the other hand, he did Drew’s American psyop corner. Do you guys forgive enya for say ing the n word?

Irreverent is a word I don’t know the meaning of. Stalinism is a word you can’t seem to get right, it’s okay though, it’s not a big deal, ur intrinsic behindednsss this aversion this left handedness, what do we say? It’s hard to be your own person ; in highschool, Diane Nguyen would get it.

Be blunt- that’s good way to get through life, it is very odd and it leaves people questioning- which is quite the opposite of what blunt is supposed to mean. I guess what I mean is be vague more accurately, but insist on that vagueness with the confidence of someone who’s actually saying something. This is what it means to be an artist. You abstract don’t you not? Yoh can take all of the things and grate them up, this is the baby eater scene from haunting of hill house (watch it) yoh kkw what I’m talking about it’s very good. See? That’s vague, that’s impressive, if they even remember, then they’ll get a neat little postcard into how your brain works, a suitable amount that is manageable for a human being. There’s simply to much to much to get to them in an efficient manner so you must abandon this pathology, that, intellectualizing your existence. Make it’s it makes it much harder to live. But that’s what we’re doing right now. That’s the sacrifice THAG writers and poets and artists talk about- taking tiny tiny insignificant pieces of your brain and handing them off slowly, if it all comes out at once it’s not. They can’t do it they can’t deal with it. But in small manageable sizable pieces you can give them the message, letter by kwetter dot mmy dot. Morse code out your messages, so under offer they can’t be read. You write like a broken disc you write like you’re not human

You write like you’re not human

Like write like human human

I feel Hands in the end. I’ll feel them in the end, born to callously walk through the halls. Born to leave men. I don’t respect it. I don’t let them in my home, like a rabid dog I can’t be near them. I’m scared of them. I there’s a man’s voice in the house,

Learn to stim or you’re gonna be stuck here a while.

[fearspreads]

“unsubstantial but pRetTy” hard disagree a teen show with two poc main characters and filled with loving female friendship isnt unsubstantial but ok 

[extremelyblackandwhite]

as it fell | lee bodecker

PAIRING: lee bodecker x reader

WARNINGS: affairs, age gap (reader is younger than lee), 18+ smut 

A/N: this chapter is sponsored by me listening to with me by sum 41 on a loop.

previous part / next part

They used to drive through the tiniest roads, she remembered. The leaves would still be green but the snow would be going down an so would them. Those hidden spots, those places in Knockemstiff only they knew were like old movie sceneries, like the outside of the princess’ tower, escaping while the big dragon wasn’t watching. It was so romantic, even if she was committing adultery, she hadn’t even considered it. How come something so dark was the photo of what she considered romantic? How naive, how foolish to be young and in love.

She was only 23, two years older than when she decided to leave this, to leave this pseudo-relationship dead and buried in the same places they used to be lovers in. She was only 23 now, only two years older, two years more mature yet all she could think about was how she still felt 21 whenever she looked into those eyes of his. Those blue pools of unspoken mystery, those blue pools like ice daggers who could hurt and like fleece who could warm. How could she not get lost? Lost in teenage-hood and girlhood fantasies of falling in love, lost in the hurt that adulthood doesn’t fix anything. Turns out that after knowing exactly where she was going when she was 18, all those ideas of what she was gonna do, all those naive ideas of being the one to get out, the good girl who became a successful woman, were just ideas. She had it all planned out, the dating while at university, the happy engagement at the end with her father giving her lover the stern talk, and the wedding at 25. The leaving university and starting in a good job. Now at 23, she was another dejected university graduate in graduate school hoping to get a good job, merely grasping at the strings which she could control and watching herself be loveless. Her mother always said, next year, things can change in a day, yet she found herself stuck in the same spot, wanting to be loved but unsure how to be loved, changing her hair, smiling more, putting on makeup, hoping ... only to be broken down with each candle she blew. She knew everything when she was 18, she knew nothing at 23. 

But he loved her. That she knew now and her mind flooded with all the hopeless nights of rain and thunder she cried to. All those times she loved him and wanted to be loved by him. She didn’t know if to hate him for not telling her, if to ask him why he didn’t call her, why he didn’t beg her to stay, why he didn’t even ask. He seemed to let go of her so easily, like she didn’t matter, like he didn’t love her. Yet he said he loved her. She could just ignore it, behave like an adult and not believe a word he says. Never believe a crooked politician with a crooked lie. But adulthood was already painful enough and already literred her with scars, she’d rather believe in it. 

Her eyes were glossy and blurry from the tears that dared escape, her forehead was leaned on his, her hand held his while the other sat in silence. Her eyes remained on his as she leaned in towards his lips. Her lips touched his and it felt like fire, shy kisses which drowned on warmth and lust until she moved to sit on top of his lap. Her hands held his head against hers, afraid if she let go he too would let go. The shyness grew into the lust, as his hands pulled her cardigan down. She’d been here before, she remembered it, his touch, his eager touch, touching her skin. His skins lowered from her lips to her jaw, her head tilting back as he assaulted her skin. His kisses were always warmth, Lee was a warm person yet his chapped lips were a reminder of how ruthless he was as well. Those lips, pulling and biting at her skin continued to go down her trachea and to her collarbones. He wanted her closer, he wanted more of her. His hand wrapped around her hair, fisting it like a rope to keep her back arched and his kisses got viciously close to the valley of her breasts. His other hand pulled down her uniform, a few old buttons popping out and into his lap, none of them caring. He darkly chuckled at the lace bra she was wearing, it wasn’t one of those print bras she used to wear with the dots, the flowers and the little hearts. It was just a thin layer of fabric covering her perky breasts. His lips traced the skin outside her bra, eyes moving to look at her. 

     - What kind of brassiere is this, baby? Huh? - he bite onto the soft skin, knowing it would be a mark, he wanted to be a mark. - You wanna be my little dirty baby again, huh? Trying to tempt me?

Her eyes pleased with him for pleasure and although he hated leaving her aching body unkissed, unmarked, he hated more not being inside her. Fuck those two years were too fucking long, too fucking long not to feel her. He unbuckled his trousers, pulling them down enough for his cock to be freed from its confines. She bite her lip, breathy laughter as she leaned to kiss the skin under his ear.

    - You’ll always be my favourite, baby. Always. - he pumped his cock a few times before raising her to seat on his cock. Both of them let out a moan, her nails burying onto his shirt. - Fuck, baby. Ride me, ride me like the little slut you were.

She’d always been shy about it, her cheeks would always heat up whenever he talked dirty to her. It drove him wild to make her do these things, to make her ride him or to see her avoid his gaze whenever he said those things. He knew she loved it, she’d never admit it, but she did. Her hands held onto his shoulders as she started to move up and down his cock, her moans intensifying as she felt his cock rub against her walls. Fuck, she missed this. He leaned his head back, satisfied smile as she rode him, her hands and whimpers merely edging him on. It didn’t take long for him to bury his head in her breasts, kissing and biting her skin before that path was being reversed and his lips were on hers again. His hands gripped her waist, accelerating her movements as the whimpers and moans became more desperate.

    - Never knew you were such a slut for my dick, baby. - he chuckled through the kisses before stopping her movements. - Go slow, now, baby. Don’t be greedy. 

    - Lee. - she complained attempting to quicken her moves and chase her high. That friction was so deliciously slow yet so teasing. 

    - Don’t go calling me that now, baby. It’s not gonna bode well for you being bratty. 

She moaned, her head leaning against her shoulder. His movements were slow, wanting to feel her walls contract against him, her breasts against his chest. Fuck drugs, alcohol, and sweets, this was what was really addictive. Her, she was addictive. 

    - Come on, baby. You wanna use me? Go on, use me. - his grip loosened on her waist as she returned to chasing her high, her hips moving up and down as she moaned and breathe like that was all she could do. She continued those movements, them moving slow as that height as hit and her movements became slow and then they stopped. 

Lee growled moving her to lay on top of the driver’s seat, legs drapped on the other seat as he resumed his movements, going fast and careless like an animal. He bit her skin, grunting as if angry, bruising bites being created every time she moaned through her soreness.

    - You try pulling this two year shit again and I won’t be as nice to you. - he continued his bruising thrusts until ropes of white painted her walls, dripping from around her walls as it leaked and stained the bottom of her uniform’s skirt. His head laid on her chest after laying a passionate kiss on her lips. - You alright there, baby?

    -  I’m ok. - her eyes looked at the ceiling as she wondered if this was another mistake yet it felt so good, it felt so mean to be.

Her watch buzzed. Lee moved to stare at her as she looked at her watch. Fuck, she forgot she was still on shift. 

    - Oh my god, I have to go. - she pulled her uniform up, grabbing her cardigan from the ground. 

    - Wait, Y/N. - he stopped her hand before she could reach the door handle. 

    - Lee, I have to go back to work.

    - I’ll take you. You ain’t gonna walk all the way back there by yourself.

    - People will see, Lee. It’s midday, they’re walking around. 

    - They won’t. - he spoke as if he controlled Knockemstiff. Maybe he did, she didn’t know how he had changed the town while she was away; yet, there was no contesting him. 

She moved to the passenger seat as he took over the driver’s seat, starting the engine of the car. He handed her his handkerchief, kissing the side of her head before he drove off that plot of the forest, driving down the road to the diner. The radio was playing Johnny Cash again and she was once reminded of how things were back then. He’d drive her away at night, drop her just a 2 minute away from home in a rented car; yet she was in the sheriff’s cruiser, anyone could see that by the word printed on the side of the car, and the sun was shining lowly like winter suns did. 

He drove down the back alley, halting the car but remaining with the engine on. She wondered if this was another hit and run and opened the door to exit. 

   - I’ll pick you up tonight, yeah? - he said but she found herself silent. She didn’t know what to said, she had to thread lightly. She couldn’t risk another goodbye following an hello. She couldn’t risk it, she couldn’t be hurt again, how would she survive this again. 

Instead, she turned around, walking robotically to the back door to enter the dinner. She closed it behind her back, holding the rail as she let out a shaky sigh. What was wrong with her? She turned the corner, only to find Al standing in front of he, looking her dead in the eye.

   - I saw ‘ya come in, girl. You messin’ around with the sheriff?

[fierte-verte]

Kings (Casmund)

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Caspian X

Words: 9.4k

Synopsis: In the frigid winters of Finchley, the stories of Narnia’s Kings and Queens live on. And if Peter’s little girl has to choose, the Seafarer and Just King’s might just be her favorite. (Somewhere between movie and book-verse)

A/N: How could I resist? Something about this couple just hits every spot in my tender fangirl heart. Inspired by Lauren Aquilina’s song—King. (Go listen, it’s a masterpiece I swear)

Edmund slipped into the room, squinting to see a small silouhette under the covers. With a knowing smirk on his face, he reached for the walls, feeling a bulb-like shape underneath his fingers. With a click, the overhead lights flickered on, bathing the walls in a warm glow. 

The disgruntled figure stirred in bed, but Edmund paid no mind to the noise, scrimmaging through drawers. He let out a soft aha upon finding the box of matches and lit the candle on the dresser, blinking in satisfaction as the wick produced an orange blaze.

“Uncle Edmund?” 

Turning around to face the bed again, Edmund found himself eye to eye with his recent case— a brilliant, quite restless one of girlhood. Peter’s daughter, to be precise. His niece, who should be fast asleep by now instead of watching her uncle like a hawk.

“Kathleen.” 

She broke into an impish beam, beckoning for her caretaker of the night to come closer. Edmund weaved between the floor’s obstacles and arrived at the side of her bed. It dipped under his weight and let out a creak. 

“When will dad be back?” 

If Edmund didn’t know any better, the slight uplift in her tone could be readily mistakened as disappointment. But what would he be if not the diplomat, the strategist, the counselor, who had mastered the arts of reading faces and in between the lines? 

“Not before you coax me into another bedtime story.” He grinned, a gesture which she returned generously. It was half worrisome and amusing, how his niece had turned out so alike himself. She could own a head full of golden curls, but her wry disposition was undeniably all Edmund’s. Peter had once complained in good humor of one too many sharp tongues and crafty brains in his life, and Lucy could only reach to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“So you’ll tell me one?” 

“I’m not sure. Will it suffice?”

She pretended to muse over the question, an effort Edmund would’ve commended if not for her young age. Kathleen certainly had the makings of a diplomat.

“Perhaps you can start with one, then I will decide.”

He scooted and gathered her in his arms, and she laid back against his chest pliantly, fingers fiddling with the edges of her blanket. Who would’ve thought, Edmund Pevensie, out of the court yet still in negotiation, not to mention with a ten year old over bedside tales?

But then again, the Pevensies were always known to be extraordinary, if not out of this world.

For good humor, and to mimick a genuine deal, Edmund raised a hand to which his niece shook firmly. 

“Let me take a wild guess at your choice—Ah wait, not necessary,” He teased. “Surely it has to be Narnia again?”

“Hmm hmm,” She hummed, hair bouncing as she nodded. Edmund brushed the long strands out of her face and tucked them behind her ears. He’d lost count already, the number of times Narnia and her story rolled off his tongue like a psalm. Contrary to his siblings’ beliefs, Edmund did not mind bringing up the wild chronicles of his childhood and youth. They helped him remember, no less than they helped him hope. 

“Alright then,” He adjusted his legs so they weren’t cramped on the twin-sized bed. “Where to start?”

“When the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve all defeated the White Witch and stayed in Narnia?”

Edmund gaped at the back of her head, surprised and flustered. Time had watered down the repulsion over his own betrayal, though not a fraction of the guilt and gravity its consequences inflicted on Narnia and himself. He assmued she would’ve been interested to hear the dramatic account once more, for if there was any part of the story more striking than Aslan’s sacrifice, it was the lost boy and his return from fallen grace.

“But you know there’s a whole story before that, are you sure the coronation’s what you wish to begin with?”

“I’ve heard that part a million times. Dad said it’s not half as exciting as what happens after,” she remarked dryly. “He also said it was mainly about the Just King being unpleasant.”

“Unpleasant,” The word felt funny in his mouth. “I’m afraid he’s being kind.” The Peter before Narnia would’ve used much nastier words. 

“Well, unpleasant or not, he did manage to break her wand.”

“So you don’t think the Just King was at fault, for Aslan’s suffering and the Battle of Beruna? Those sourced from some very questionable choices.”

“No,” Edmund could feel her frown in spite of the curtain of hair hiding her expression from sight. “I do, I just don’t think it really matters much in the end.”

“Oh,” He breathed. Either Peter had influenced her to believe so, or she was, in reality, wiser than they all gave her credit for. A warmth settled in his chest quickly, the same kind he went through when Lucy fired her first arrow. It was pride, and fondness, and so much more.

“He learnt his lesson, didn’t he?” 

“Yes, he did,” Edmund nodded. “And it was one he would never forget.” 

                                                  ━━

Traitor King. Silver Tongue. The Matchless Swordsman. Narnia’s old scriptures and scrolls had called him all sorts of names, but none were more important than the three words Aslan always refered to him as—Son of Adam, a cue of his humanity, and the highs and lows that were to accompany it.

“You will find, Edmund, that redemption is only gifted to the worthy. Darkness is enticing after all, or the mighty would not have fallen so easily. Few attempt to rise again, and fewer succeed. You must remember to honor such a gift. It is not to be taken lightly, nor should it be taken for granted. Nevertheless, Son of Adam, you have my faith.” 

And so the lion slipped into Narnia and her trees, grand mane blending with the shadows of night. Edmund watched wordlessly, for the silence had spoken enough.  

                                                 ━━

Kathleen wriggled around, and Edmund was soon faced with a sour look from his niece. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

Her eyes hardened, not far from the deadpan expression Peter used to fix him with when he spun out a snarky comment in bad timing. That one meeting with the Archenland knight was the angriest Peter had been with Edmund since the Winter Rebellion. But who was to blame Edmund? The poor knight and his bushy brows were too good a joke to pass.

                                              ━━

“Honestly, Ed? I thought Narnia’s chief advisor would know better than to compare our guest to a faun’s beard!”

One of Susan’s hands was pressing against her lips in a desperate attempt not to laugh. The other was lying on Lucy’s head, trying to achieve the same purpose. Edmund, never one to stop halfway through an act, had the audacity to wink at them before turning to his fuming brother.

“Oh Pete, you’re right. It was rude of me to besmirch the honor of our beloved Mr. Tumnus. I shall apologize to him as soon as this meeting is adjourned.”

As expected, Peter’s fury had been witnessed by half of Cair Paravel’s residents.

                                                ━━

“You’re spacing off again, Uncle Edmund.” Kathleen splayed her fingers onto his cheeks. “You always do that.”

He covered her dainty hands with his own, their calluses a proof of his victorious battles. “Pardon me, sweetheart. A bad habit, you see.”

She sighed, and tutted, then finally decided to sigh once more. “Never mind. Dad does it an awful lot too, and he’s worse than you. Mum tells him off sometimes, when he spills tea on the carpet or wash the blacks and whites together. Grey skirts, grey leggings, grey socks, nothing but grey for an entire month!”

Edmund smiled. Daydreaming appeared to be a common talent amongst the Pevensie siblings, if not second nature. Yet, seeing as it had all been true, Edmund thought perhaps it was more reminiscing than anything else. 

“Shall I continue? Or are you still cross with me?” 

“No Uncle Ed,” Kathleen inched forward to plant a sweet kiss on his cheek. “I could never be cross with you.” Thus Edmund had felt his heart swell two folds. 

“And I you,” he replied. “I believe a certain adventure is scheduled for Miss Kathleen Pevensie, would she kindly accept the offer?”

“She would, very much.”

“Smashing,” he dipped his head in a fake bow. “Her handsome, outstanding uncle would be glad to deliver.”

Kathleen giggled tenderly, leaning to press her ears to Edmund’s chest. She deemed both the sound of his steady heartbeat and hushed voice calming wonders. 

“On the day of their coronation, the Kings and Queens of Old were dressed in the finest garments, a gift from Narnia’s neighboring countries. They were marvelous, the most splendid attires, made from silk and chiffon and brocade and—” 

Edmund’s maundering came to a stop when it met meek reaction from his audience. 

“I’m sorry, Kat. None of that made much sense, did it?”

“Not much sense,” Kathleen repeated. “But it sounded like the Kings and Queens were happy with their outfits.”

“They were,” Edmund confirmed. The feeling of swishing silks around ankles bore into his mind, almost as if imprinted on skin. “And so Aslan, the true king of Narnia, entrusted her to the four siblings who had fought and defeated Jadis.”

“Why didn’t Aslan rule Narnia himself, if he was her true owner?”

“To grant the Kings and Queens truths and wisdom that were to be taken back to their world. Although it was entirely known to the four much later in their lives.” 

“And they simply trusted Aslan with all their hearts? Granting they hadn’t a clue what it was he desired from them?”

“It might be hard to understand, but yes, they believed in Aslan. For those who placed their faith in Aslan, and loved him unconditionally, the lion would watch over them. Every tree and creature knew so, and therefore were blessed and guided.”

“I am Narnia’s subject, as she is mine.” Aslan laid beside Edmund. “A country is nothing without a ruler, and for the very same reasons why a ruler is nothing without a country.”

A breeze crept into the room, causing Kathleen to shiver thrice. Edmund draped the abandoned blanket over their forms, turning to glimpse at the ajar window. He smiled, welcoming the wind like an old friend. 

“The eldest boy of the siblings, as you see, was crowned the Magnificent King. The eldest girl, the Gentle Queen. Their younger brother, the Just King. And last but not least, their youngest sister, the Valiant Queen.”

“Do they not have names, the Kings and Queens?”

“They do, Kat. But even so,” he replied, “Names are of little significance after all, compared to actions and thoughts. Anyone who had Narnia’s best interest in heart would see fit to be King or Queen.”

“Even me?” She looked at him with bright round eyes. 

“Especially you.” Edmund chuckled earnestly, for he had a suspicion Narnia may grow to be more than a bedtime story for the girl one day. “I imagine the Narnians would be pleased to have a little warrior amongst them.”

For a second, Kathleen did not speak, choosing instead to tuck her uncle’s words carefully into memory. “Were the Kings and Queens of Old warriors too?”

“They were, indeed. Despite the White Witch’s cease in reign, other dark forces  who preyed on Narnia’s beauty remained. It was the Kings and Queens’ duty to guard and defend the land, and see to a peaceful and prosperous life for its inhabitants.”

“The Magnificent, also the High King, was tasked with leading armies in battle. The Just usually stationed near, responsible for devising strategies. The Gentle would be in command of the archers, as she was the most skilled one of all, and the Valiant healed those in pain and suffering with her special cordial.”

“That sounds like an awful lot of work,” Kathleen mumbled.

“Ruling a country is never easy,” He rubbed her back in comfort. “Power and commitment always come in pair.”

                                                        ━━

Edmund sheathed his sword, then strided across the room to assist Peter with his armor. The air hung thickly, just as though mourning the imminent loss ahead. Edmund’s fingers clasped the buckles that Peter could not reach, the brothers settling in a heavy silence. 

“Must we?” Peter’s sudden utterance was so soft, he would’ve missed it under the slightest distraction. 

“Some fights are not meant to be avoided, your majesty. You are well informed of that.” Rarely did the Pevensies pay any mind to ranks and titles, much less amongst themselves. But in this moment the High King understood more than ever, that Edmund was speaking not as his brother, nor as his friend, but Narnia’s protector, breathing and living to serve her wholly.

“At times, Ed, I wonder why you aren’t leading the charge instead.”

“Believe me, I wonder myself.”

“Perhaps we should swap. I will draw up plans.”

They shared a look, an exchange limited to the dearest of brothers. Edmund realized he differed little from the boy who could not ‘do as he was told’, and Peter from the youth who did not always have things ‘nicely handled.’

“In that case, Pete, charging will be the only thing we accomplish.” 

Three days later, High King Peter and Edmund the Just returned to Cair Paravel, new scars and bruises the proof of an agony that neither spoke about again. 

                                                 ━━

“Were there many battles?” 

“Only necessary ones. The Kings and Queens were not fond of violence. Anything that could be solved on paper was done so.”

“I know! Dad taught me the word, you had to sign a tr–tre–trea”

“Treaty, Kat.” Edmund swiped her nose playfully. Any trace of grumpiness from her inability to recall the word was replaced with mirth.

“And yes, Narnia upheld many treaties with its neighbors.” He felt a smirk tug at his lips. “Some more interesting than others.” 

Pooh, by the lion’s mane, why bother to hide his amusement at all? Rabadash was and forever will be the most ridiculous Calormen him and his siblings had dealt with. To speak of him was to give Susan a splitting headache. 

                                             ━━

“Have you ever seen royalty so conceited? I mean, such vanity!” His oldest sister had slumped in her chair, a rare break from her meticulous poise. 

“I don’t know, have you ever seen Peter with a mirror?” 

Edmund yelped, barely managing to duck from the goblet that Peter chucked at him. Lucy, who was enjoying the afternoon meeting, giggled behind her palm. 

As Edmund began shielding himself with a candelabra, another groan of distress from Susan pitted the boys against another one of their mid-day scuffles.

Lucy wrapped her arms around Susan, leaning backwards so they could both lay their heads on the window behind. “For a prince, he certainly lacked the manners of one.” 

“And the hygiene,” Edmund added. “Did none of you smell the goon? Ghastly!”

“Ed,” Peter warned, though the gleam in his blue eyes betrayed his true position. 

                                             ━━

“Uncle Edmund,” The whine of his name reached Edmund’s ears, breaking his train of thought. He blinked and bent his head to see Kathleen peering up at him with the very same eyes, blue and clear as the eastern seas. “You’re doing it again!”

Edmund sighed wistfully, trying his best to appear apologetic. “I’ve been a horrible storyteller, haven’t I?” 

Kathleen brooded over his admission. “Not as horrible as Dad. He starts speaking so quickly it all becomes gibberish!” 

Sounds like Peter, alright. One would’ve thought after a thousand negotiations, maybe a King could be cured of such hasty habits, but no, Peter Pevensie was just as stubborn as he was magnificent. 

“Not exactly a fair comparison. Your dad��s a talking nightmare if you ever get him excited.”

“That he is.” And the pair bonded over their mutual exasperation.

“For fifteen years, the Kings and Queens of Old reigned over Narnia. Not without hiccups along the way, of course, but it was a happy time.” 

“Fifteen?” Edmund could hear the dismay in her voice. “I expected fifty!”

“Huh, I suppose it was rather short. Despite the eventual turn of events, it was not in their intention to leave Narnia so soon. The siblings were on a hunt, you see, for a White Stag rumored to grant wishes. They arrived at Lantern Waste, only to fall through the wardrobe and return to England again.” 

                                                 ━━

Edmund glanced down to see thin, nimble fingers. Not the strong hands marked from years of sword practice. He gaped at his reflection to see a clean, pale face. Not the stubble left since last week’s shaving. 

He remembered, though he did not want to, how the devastation and loss rippled through each of them. 

For Peter, gone was the High King, now an angry schoolboy whose battlefields morphed from clearings to school courtyards. He swung at his enemies, only this time with empty fists and no Rhindon in sight.

For Susan, gone were the bows and arrows, replaced by dull pencils and jeering looks from boys. She remained gentle, only this time it was virtue borne from grief.

For Lucy, gone was the lady in tune with every creature and song, and in her place stood a child whose words weighed no more. Music kept her company still, only this time they did not forge sweet dreams.

And most of all, he remembered himself; gone was the persuasive counselor hungry for justice, his sharp tongue reduced to reticence. Fair play no less important, only this time its rewards appeared hollow. 

                                                   ━━

“What disappointment!” Kathleen exclaimed, hardly able to contain her distress at this point. She was beginning to wish she had settled with the old story instead. That, at least, bore a satisfying end. “They must be crushed, to start all over again... Yesterday, the rain knocked down the twig castle Mum and I built, and that was horrible enough! Will you help us with it tomorrow? I think the new one could use another tower.” 

An ungraceful snigger broke from Edmund’s throat. It appeared his niece spoke too soon about her father’s babbling habit, and had gotten the short end of the Pevensie gene stick herself. Well, he guessed they couldn’t all be eloquent talkers.

“Of course, Kat. I’d be honored.”

“Did everybody greet them with grey beards and wrinkles?”

“No,” He shook his head. “No time had passed in England, and the four were children once again.”

“That must be strange. Weren’t they uncomfortable?”

“They were, for how could you be otherwise? England felt foreign to them now. A home from another lifetime.”

“Every streetlight reminded them of Narnia’s stars, every breeze of Narnia’s spirits. Months after, the Kings and Queens never stopped wishing for a journey back to Aslan’s land, where their hearts and souls laid.”

Kathleen began to grow restless again, her small fists clenching at Edmund’s shirt. “And did they, Uncle Edmund? Did Aslan call for them again? Oh, please tell me he did!”

Edmund, sensing the unease radiating off her in waves, resumed to rub soothing circles on her back. Kathleen sniffled, curling up so she could listen to Edmund’s heartbeat better.

“The Kings and Queens were summoned to Narnia a year after their departure, though it was not the lion who brought them back.”

                                                        ━━

Cair Paravel, or what was left of it, stood forlorn on the cliff’s edge. Vines crawled and wrapped themselves around the previously unblemished pillars, now split into halves. The siblings could not look away till they heard Lucy’s crestfallen gasp and were confirmed it was not all an illusion. 

“Our home,” His youngest sister had struggled to blink back tears.

When Edmund reunited with his golden chess, it had felt heavier in his palm. 

                                                        ━━

“To their surprise, a year in England had been a thousand in Narnia.”

“Oh no,” Kathleen half-whispered. 

“When the Kings and Queens realized so, they came across a dwarf by the name of Trumpkin, one of the many Narnians who were in hiding. Trumpkin explained that not long after their withdrawal from the throne, Telmar and its troops had invaded Narnia and taken the kingdom for themselves.”

“And Aslan allowed them to?”

Edmund nodded, albeit hesistantly. “He too, disappeared along with the four siblings.”

“If Aslan didn’t call for them, who did?”

“Do you recall, Kat, the gift that the Gentle Queen received from Father Christmas?”

“A magic horn.”

“Correct,” Edmund verified. “The horn was left behind, long believed to be lost until a Professor discovered it. He gave the enchanted object to a Telmarine Prince Caspian, the nephew of a usurper called Miraz—”

“What’s a usupper, Uncle Ed?”

Edmund chuckled. “Usurper, sweetheart. It means someone who has taken power not rightfully their’s. Miraz was a cruel man who murdered his own brother, Caspian’s father, so as to have the throne for himself.”

Kathleen gaped, seemingly gobsmacked by the information. Her expression had Edmund reflecting on whether the story was becoming overtly dark for a child.

“Is this too much, Kat? Maybe I should stop.” 

All he received was a groan of objection.

“Fine, but tell me any time it gets too scary alright? Don’t want you getting nightmares in the middle of the night.” His niece grunted in compliance.

“Shortly before the Kings and Queens’ return, Miraz’s wife gave birth to a son. The baby’s untimely arrival made Caspian a threat to his uncle’s line of succession. In order to protect the prince from Miraz’s harm, the Professor sent him away to the woods. Caspian, bewildered, fled with only the Gentle Queen’s horn and his horse.”

“Were the Narnians hiding in the forest too?”

“Yes. It took quite a lot of convincing for them to help the Telmarine prince, but they relented under his promise that Narnia would be restored to her former glory.”

“I see. The Kings and Queens must’ve been back because of the horn then.”

“Clever girl,” Kathleen flashed him a smile. “Aslan had intended for Caspian to seek their guidance. Amusingly, however, things got off to a rocky start.” Rocky was an understatement, seeing as Peter had nearly busted Caspian’s head with a rock. 

                                                        ━━

“Was that really necessary? He elbowed his brother on their way to the How. “I thought I was responsible for the snarky comments in this family.”

He didn’t need to look to see the irritation written on Peter’s face.

“Easy does it, Pete. The boy’s been thrusted into a world of talking animals and moving trees all in a single day. Grace him with a bit of your goodwill, won’t you?”

Peter begrudgingly agreed, but not before casting a dirty glance at him.

“You like him.” It was more an accusation than anything.

And Edmund had simply shrugged. 

                                                       ━━

“Caspian was...” Edmund faltered, finding himself struggling to find the proper words. Even after all this time, when it came to the dark-eyed prince turned king, he had a tendency to be rendered speechless. And for someone dubbed the Silver Tongue of Narnia, it was quite a remarkable accomplishment.

“He was what, Uncle Edmund?” Cynthia’s small hands rocked his shoulder back and forth, the impatient tone in her voice drawing a wistful smile to his lips. To be a child, curious without faults and unaware of the dangers lurking beneath knowledge. Edmund didn’t quite remember the feeling anymore, for that was a life before Narnia.

He looked down at the girl cuddled up in his arms, watched as her misty blue eyes searched his own brown ones, hungry for truth. She reminded him of a younger Lucy then, rich in understanding and sensitivity, yet never afraid to ask the right questions. Edmund’s heart skipped at the thought of his little sister, whose presence had lessened along with the increased clients at her clinic.

Funny, how some people seemed to grow up right under your noses. He suspected Peter and Susan had experienced the same bittersweet sentiments after their first return from Narnia.

                                                    ━━

“When did you get so wise, Ed?” Peter slung a heavy arm around his shoulders.

“The same time you’ve grown a beard.”

Their laughter echoed through the hallways at Hendon House, breaking whatever solemn spell which had fallen between the brothers over dinner.

                                                    ━━

“Difficult.” Edmund answered, raking his fingers through fair curls. “Caspian was difficult.”

A rough noise rose from Kathleen’s throat, one which resembled a disapproving grunt. Her hand on Edmund’s shoulder slipped off in defeat.

“You call everyone difficult, Uncle Edmund.” She said plainly, as if her words didn’t just accuse him of a harsh disposition.

“I do not,” He drew back in mild offense. “Call everyone that. Mostly your father, occasionally your Aunt Susan and Lu, but never you Kat.”

“And now Caspian too.” She peered up at him, toothy grin and bright eyes in tow. Edmund found it much too adorable to resist.

“Yes, him too. Although it is a very different kind of difficult, if you must know.”

“Not like the Magnificent King’s?”

“No,” he laughed. “The Magnificent merely drove everyone mad with his bull-like way of thinking sometimes. Caspian, on the other hand, was an infuriating case. When they first met him, he was a prince, not yet a king, and it was clear he had a long way to go before becoming one.”

“Why? Was he a child?”

Edmund shook his head. “He was only slightly younger than the Magnificent. They were quite similar in nature, you see, hot heads and brave hearts. It was precisely so that made it impossible for them to get along initially.”

A brief image of his brother and love standing side by side, clad in traditional armor, flashed across his mind, and for a moment the memory remained terribly vivid. A have-been-king and a king-to-be charging onto battlefields shoulder to shoulder, armed with only rusty sword skills and hope for the country they ruled and will rule—a sight to behold indeed.

Somewhere in his wry mind, Edmund supposed Aslan did have a preference when it came to thrones and successions.

In his younger years, Edmund would’ve struck the earth with his heel, craned his neck and cried injustice at the lion. But the days spent in Cair Paravel’s throne room, watching the golden crown bobbing on his brother’s head as he soothed and advised creature after creature, had taught Edmund to change his mind.

There was no leader more befitting of his title, and no Son of Adam more deserving to be called Narnia’s High King than Peter. Aslan had seen this in the eldest Pevensie before he had known so himself, when he was still all gangly limbs and ruffled light hair. Aslan had known, like he always did with everything else. Edmund’s faith in the lion could not measure to his younger sister’s, but of this he was sure.

Besides, he would never have fit into the line of rulers that included Caspian or Peter. For they ruled with their hearts, and Edmund with his head. Both were equally important, but whereas the former was needed before crowds and armies, the latter shone behind curtains and walls. Edmund would never be comfortable being someone who wore every emotion on their sleeves. Falling in love with one, however, he could testify as unnervingly easy.

“What about the other Kings and Queens? Did they like Caspian?”

“The Gentle Queen found him handsome, and the Valiant Queen trust-worthy. The Just, he was… intrigued.”

“Eventually, the Magnificent also bonded with Prince Caspian over their love for Narnia.” All thanks to me, Edmund thought wryly. Nothing an afternoon locked up together in a grave couldn’t solve. 

“To win against Miraz, they had to do so through unity. The fight wasn’t easy, and they lost many soldiers along the way,” Edmund bowed his head, paying respect to the loyal warriors who had lost their lives during the raid. “Countless temptations swayed them too.”

                                                      ━━

Edmund shivered, but the anger which burned in his veins was overpowering any remains of the White Witch’s presence. How dared they? He stared at Aslan’s sculpted figure, refusing to meet Caspian’s pleading gaze. Edmund did not trust himself, knowing one look was all it took to cave.

“Edmund, you must comprehend that I am—”

“Sorry?” Caspian winced at his scornful tone. “I do, I just don’t comprehend why there was a chance to be sorry in the first place. Did the old stories not teach you enough, of what she can do to you Caspian, of what she had done to me?” His voice cracked, shaking from the sheer terror of seeing Jadis’ face.

Caspian looked equally pained. He never expected things to go south with the Just King so soon, yet here they were, and there was no one else to blame but his own selfishness.

In a split second, the prince had closed the distance and appeared before him. His fingers lingered on Edmund’s waist, almost frantic that the boy would flinch from his touch. And for a moment, Edmund nearly did. 

“Edmund,” the young prince called out, soft and desperate. He drew the beauty in his arms closer, till their chests were pressed together and their hearts thrummed in the same tempo. Edmund leaned into Caspian, craving for the other’s warmth. Treacherous mind.

“You’ve hurt me.” So scarcely did he allow a glimpse of the old, icy wounds, but Caspian had never failed to weasle his way through the cracks of Edmund’s walls. 

“I have,” A softness landed between the crease of Edmund’s brows. “And for that I am not worthy of your affection, King Edmund.”

“A bit too late for that, Prince Caspian.” He raised his head to see desire, rooted in the strongest respect and admiration only for him. “You must make it up to me, somehow.”

The chilly air seemed to have thawed upon his words.

“Anything you wish.” 

And their lips did not part until the sounding of Miraz’s horn.

                                                      ━━

Kathleen tapped his shoulder lightly, now accustomed to her uncle’s sporadic halts. Edmund touched his mouth, shocked to feel the shadow of a lightest pressure. 

“Caspian was young, and his princely pursuits in the castle did not prepare him for the outside world. For him, everything was a test designed to prove his worth.”

“Surely he must be good, if Aslan wanted him to be King?”

“Caspian was destined for greatness, but he lacked the confidence to draw it from within. And that is where the Kings and Queens come in, to instill good faith in the prince.”

“Enlightened by their guidance, he became surer of his abilities and a resolute character. When the Magnificent issued a challenge to Miraz and defeated him in the duel, Caspian even spared his uncle’s life.”

“That’s very noble of him.” Kathleen remarked. 

“It is. After all, forgiveness is the greatest strength to possess.”

“That was it? Victory for the Narnians?”

“Not quite,” Edmund grimaced. “Turns out, Miraz wasn’t the only Telmarine hungry for control. Another lord, Sopespian, had conspired to betray Miraz so as to rule the kingdom. He framed the Narnians for Miraz’s death, and that sparked a second war between both parties.”

“This lord,” Kathleen had sounded miffed. “He’s not very honest.”

“Power can make a man greedy and foul.” Edmund had witnessed its undertaking first hand many winters ago.

“So they had to fight again?”

“Tooth and nail. They were losing too, outnumbered by the large Telmarine army. Some form of help was needed urgently.”

“Aslan,” Kathleen finished for him. 

“Indeed, he returned with the Valiant Queen and awakened the hibernating trees. They aided the Narnians, thus forcing the Telmarines to retreat to a river nearby. Aslan roared, called forth a river-god, and the Second Battle of Beruna ended in the blink of an eye.”

“The Narnians celebrated their victory for three whole days, while Prince Caspian was to prepare for his coronation. The revolution had groomed him into a hero deserving of the crown.”

“Finally, the happy ending I’ve been waiting for—” Kathleen’s sigh of contentment was cut short by her uncle’s dismal expression. “Oh c’mon, somebody ought to give them one by now!”

Edmund didn’t have the heart to tell her that not all stories were granted a perfect closure. “Sadly, the Magnificent King and Gentle Queen were not to return to Narnia again.”

“Not to return, ever again? But how, I don’t understand!”

“Aslan deemed their journey to be a fruitful one. He declared the two to have learnt everything they can from his land.”

“Load of rubbish, I’ll say!”

“Kat,” Edmund chided half-heartedly, for he could not deny he had felt the same way. “Language.”

“But Uncle Ed, if Aslan really loved the Kings and Queens of Old, why rip them away from the one place they love?”

“While it may not have seemed so, England was their true home. Aslan knew they would both wish for a life there. ”

“What about the Just King? The Valiant Queen?”

“They, along with their older brother and sister, also bid Narnia farewell, though a third and final return was in the waiting.”

“Those must have been some painful farewells. I don’t think I would ever manage.”

                                                       ━━

Caspian led Edmund away from the crowds and scrutinizing stares, up the stairs and to the top of a tower. The sun was setting, its glow dousing every creature and object in a serene shade of pink. Edmund swallowed hard, since words did not appear to save him in this moment.

The newly crowned King watched his lover carefully, eyes drinking in every curve of his body, every strand of hair atop his head, every rise and fall of his chest. He’d been hellbent on stamping them in his memory that morning and the previous night, when Edmund had so willingly bared himself for Caspian to worship. 

“Ed.” And the syllable was enough to knock the last coherent though out of him. Edmund’s hands were clasped tightly around the King’s neck, his piercing brown eyes tracing all of Caspian’s features. For a fraction of a second, he had dared hope for a different outcome. 

“Don’t forget this.” A peck. “Don’t forget me.” A second peck.

“I won’t,” Caspian bit hard on his lip. “Not even if Aslan tells me to.”

That same evening, Edmund did not risk looking back as he crossed the doorway. Because he knew himself, and he knew he would not survive the heartbreak.

                                                      ━━

“Approximately another year went by till the youngest of the siblings travelled back to Narnia. This time, accompanied by their cousin, a boy close to the Valiant Queen’s age.”

A look of horror dawned on Kat’s face, which Edmund quickly realized the reason behind. “Luckily for them, this trip spanned hardly three Narnian years from their previous one.”

Kathleen’s figure slumped in relief. “Thank god!” 

The little girl could not resist giggling at her own reaction, which prompted Edmund to laugh as well. With all the work at the office, he’d not have a single instant to be silly prior to the present.

“The three landed in the ocean and were rescued by a passing ship, a marvellous craft doned the Dawn Treader. They were delighted to be back, and more so when greeted by a familiar face.”

Kathleen, catching the twinkle in his eyes, clasped a hand over her mouth to prevent a shrill scream. “Caspian!” Came the muffled sound. Edmund gave into his urge to respond just as enthusiastically.

“The Narnian King revealed himself to be the ship’s commander, on a quest to locate his late father’s seven friends. The Gentle Queen’s horn remained untouched, yet his heart must have unknowingly summoned the two.”

                                                       ━━

Edmund straightened out his shirt, then stroded out to deck with his hands tucked into his pockets. Lucy descended from the stairs shortly afterwards, sporting a similar set of apparel.

“If these unhygienic quarters do not cause my demise first, these scratchy costumes most definitely will,” a nettled Eustace spoke to no one in particular, becoming flabbergasted when none of the crew answered to his complaints. 

“I, for one, disagree with you cousin. These must have been the work of Narnian dwarfs, the stitching is simply superb.”

“And you would be correct, Queen Lucy,” Edmund blinked furiously when Caspian emerged from nowhere, two fencing swords in hand. He caught one of them when the Narnian King chucked it in his direction with a wink.

“This early, boys?” Lucy tutted, but it was clear from her sly expression that she was anticipating the approaching match .

“Solely to ensure King Edmund has not lost his expertise,” Caspian’s explaination was followed by a deep bow. Nonetheless, Edmund could sense the snideness beneath his statement, almost as if he was taunting Edmund to retaliate.

Interesting. Kingship had certainly taught the modest man a few tricks.

On this wise, Edmund was not surprised when their swords clashed together in an inevitable draw.

                                                        ━━

“And what of their cousin? His first time in Narnia...”

Immediately, quite a few of Eustace’s mishaps flashed in Edmund’s brain. He then wondered about Reepicheep, the quirky mouse, and his fate in Aslan’s country. It was a bittersweet affair, to recall all the people he had left behind...

“In the beginning, their cousin was not so welcoming towards the idea of magic, much less a kingdom full of it. He regarded each sight as a hoax or a strange dream, choosing to confide only in the pages within his diary.” In fact, scribbling, scrawling, and scribing was all Eustace had done.

“The crew did not find his addition a pleasant one, despite learning to think elseway as the voyage continued. The Just King, in particular, sought to keep his trap shut most days.” Edmund then rolled his eyes in good nature. “Although Caspian kept him from any extreme methods.”

                                                        ━━

A hand stopped his way in hunting down Eustace bloody Scrubb. Edmund threw his head back to glare at the interruption. A six feet long, gorgeous interruption.

“Let me go,” He said through gritted teeth. Caspian opted otherwise and pulled a flushed Edmund into his embrace.

“I think today is a rather sunny day,” He talked into the air. “Not suitable for any casualties on board.”

His comment had Edmund’s eyes turning a dangerous dark, breathtaking and lethal like all the Narnian tales described him. “Oh I assure you, King Caspian, there will be more than one if you don’t let go of me right now.”

“Seeing as you refer to me as King, am I wrong to expect you also remember that I am no longer under your command, old King Edmund the Just?”

“Old?” He squawked. “You’re one to talk, bearded man!”

“Well I don’t know,” Caspian shrugged. “What else do you call an ancient being then?” 

“Ancient!” 

Caspian smirked, but his triumph was short-lived when lithe arms snaked around his neck, pulling him close for their bodies to rest chest against chest. His breath hitched, gaze wandering from star-like freckles to sinful, full lips. Edmund peered up at him through long lashes, putting on a convincing front that would be sure to fool any unsuspecting stranger. 

“What a shame,” The Just King drawled. “And here I assume you’ve quite enjoyed having something ancient in bed.” Tipping his head upwards, he met Caspian’s equally amused stare.

“If all ancient things could make such obscene noises from a mere touch...” The Narnian King teased as Edmund’s mouth parted, a pink tongue darting out to reach his upper lip. “Ed—” He warned weakly. “Supper is in twenty mintues.”

The limbs around his neck slipped off in a flash, and Caspian was horrified at the disappointed groan which had nearly escaped him. 

“Pity,” Edmund pouted, whipping around to twist the doorknob behind him. “Swordfighting was not the only thing I had been hoping to brush up on.”

                                                         ━━                                                   

By Aslan, where had that boldness come from? Edmund’s face burned from the flashback, yielding an alarming red when he recalled his current surroundings. 

“Uncle Ed,” Kathleen examined him dubiously. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Edmund decided that he wished for nothing more but a hole to hide in. “No, absolutely not! Where’d you get the idea, sweetheart?”

“You keep pausing when it gets to the Just King and Caspian, and there’s that look on your face, like you’re both happy and in pain. Painfully happy. Not to mention your cheeks resemble tomato—”

“Alright!” Edmund waved his hands in protest. “I see your point.”

“Please, I’m a great secret keeper! Last week, Dad melted Mum’s lipstick on the stove and I didn’t tell her! Whatever it is, I swear I won’t snitch!” His niece pleaded. 

“Sweetheart, there’s a reason I—”

“C’mon Uncle Ed, I tell you everything, even about Mum’s lipstick lying under the couch! It’s only fair.”

Cursing his own poor judgement, and yes it was possible, Edmund exhaled deeply before relenting. “I wasn’t holding back because I doubted your integrity, sweetheart. It is the nature of the secret that I am hesistant of.”

“Why, is it bad?”

“No, not to me at least. Although some people may beg to differ.”

“Oh I hardly give a dime what some people think, Uncle Ed. I love you, and anything you like I’m confident I’d grow to like it too.”

Edmund smiled. Peter had expressed his permission early on, saying some early insight would be nice for his daughter. As a matter of fact, the only hurdle so far was Edmund’s own reluctance. No, he wasn’t ashamed of what he and Caspian shared—It was something sacred and beautiful beyond compare.

“To put things into perspective, the Just King and King Caspian...They were in love.”

Edmund held his breath as the rapid beating of his heart drummed against his ears. What he did not expect, however, was for his niece to trap him in an elated embrace, her deathly grip squeezing all the air out of him. 

“Jolly news Uncle Ed! Why didn’t you tell me sooner, I would’ve asked for this story every night!” At her sudden splurt of delight, Edmund’s eyebrows disappeared up into his fringe.

“Really?”

“Really!” Kathleen bobbed her head. “I think it’s romantic.”

“Huh, I’d have to side with you on that one.” He played along in good humor. “The Just King was a dashing young man, unbelievably irresistable in truth.”

“Wasn’t Caspian the heartthrob?” Kathleen muttered with scrunched eyebrows. “Aunt Susan and Lucy both said he was.” Edmund nudged her waist playfully, earning a squeal from the unwary girl.

“Your Aunt Susan and Lucy also get a bit mushy in the head, so excuse their yammering sweetheart.”

“Right, Aunt Susan...Mushy,” His niece replied in faud compliance. Challenging her uncle now would put the story on another excrutiating hold, and she was dying to hear about the two kings. Aunt Susan’s credibility would have to be discounted for the greater good.

“As mentioned, the Just King and the Seafarer, that was what everyone on the ship branded Caspian as, were in a loving relationship. The adventures stored for their voyage served to strengthen their fondness for one another, and through them the two kings came to an understanding of themselves more definite than ever.”

                                                       ━━

“Edmund,” Caspian whispered into the crook of his neck. The two were laying in Caspian’s hammock, under a sheer blanket that was futile in covering either of their warm and satiated bodies. Edmund hummed in response, flipping over to get a better view of his lover’s features. 

“Can I ask you something?” Caspian’s usual firm tone was laced with a dab of  vacillation. It reminded Edmund of a younger Seafarer, the demure Telmarine prince who always walked a step behind him and his siblings. But now that boy was a man, and a king not above nor below Edmund’s command. They were equals, in love and in power. 

“Perhaps a five minute break, Caspian. Even young men do not possess stamina without bounds.” His joke flew over the Narnian King’s head, and soon he realized the solemn territory they were venturing into. Stroking the nape of Caspian’s neck, Edmund conceded to his question.

“I wish to discuss a matter with you, one brought to my attention by Drinian.” 

“We agreed the cabin was strictly for personal affairs—”

“And a personal affair it is, Ed.” Caspian sighed regretfully. “I have been tempted to wait till we are close to Ramandu’s island, yet I fear there is an urgent need for this to be resolved.” Edmund frowned at his cryptic speech.

“Is something wrong? You’re going in circles, Cas, and I’d much prefer straight lines.”

“I am worried that you are not content on the Dawn Treader.” Caspian then looked away like he was afraid the other would strike him. 

If possible, it made the Just King frown even harder. 

“What in Narnia are you on about? I’m here, with you and Lu, and our insufferable know-it-all cousin, on a ship ten times the size of my bedroom in England. How can you honestly think I won’t be grateful?” When Caspian refused to look at him, Edmund let out a soft grunt, fingers gripping his chin in order to force eye contact. 

“Exactly. You and Lucy are sailing on the finest Narnian navy ship, across perlious waters and land, witnessing heaps of projects being carried out without any direct authority over them. Do you notice, Edmund, what the crew out there call you and Lucy?”

“The King and Queen of Old?” Caspian shook his head.

“Legends in flesh.” He gave the Just King a moment to collect himself. “And they’re not wrong. You and your siblings have ruled this land over a thousand years ago, seen its rise and fall,” He then paused wryly. “And rise again. Your reign is celebrated as the Golden Age, and people worshiped you. Now you have returned, not to create but to testify history. You must admit, Ed, that it is a discomfort to do so.”

Of course his pride had been wounded, when his commands became suggestions again. Of course his pride had been wounded, when he had to conform to playing second-fiddle again. But Edmund was still King, and until Aslan said otherwise, he would continue to be. And as Narnia’s King, her future was the utmost priority, something Edmund had long accepted he would not partake in. 

Whereas Edmund represented the past, Caspian did so the future. He had seen Narnia under the Seafarer’s governship. She would be in good hands.

“And a valuable discomfort it is, Caspian,” Edmund echoed his partner’s previous words. “Perhaps if we had this conversation prior to your crowning, I would’ve been less at ease. You remind me of Peter sometimes,” He broke into a coy smile at the sight of raised eyebrows. “Always doubting yourselves, picking at faults that don’t amount to a silver of your strengths. Believe me, Caspian, I’m no kind critic. So when I say you are leading Narnia in the right direction, I actually mean it. There isn’t a single moment when I haven’t been proud of you. Been so so proud—” 

His next words were cut short, dwindling into muffled sounds under Caspian’s mouth. Edmund returned the kiss with matching fervor, hoisting himself up so he could settle into Caspian’s lap. The Narnian King held him at the waist, lips brushing and sucking at his pulse. 

Edmund fell backwards pliantly, exposing his neck and shoulder blades for the other to caress. “Oh Cas...”

“I love you, Edmund Pevensie.” Caspian’s hot breath fanned against his skin. “I need you. Desperately.”

A pleasant heat coiled in Edmund’s chest.

“As do I, my King.” Edmund titled his head, placing kisses on each of Caspian’s eyelids. “Have me. Have me over and over again.”

                                                         ━━   

Kathleen’s dreamy sigh brought him back, her eyes drifiting out the window as she spoke, “Adventures at sea with someone you love...The Just King must’ve felt very romantic.”

Laughing, Edmund waved his hand in front of her. “Earth to Kat, you’re the one to tune out now.”

She batted his hand away. “Hey, don’t make fun of me. You can’t tell me they weren’t having the best time of their lives.”

“They were extremely grateful for the weeks they got to spend together, and the circumstances those weeks were under. Not to mention the Dawn Treader was a lovely vessel occupied by Narnia’s bravest crew. ”

“Ahah! So what could go wrong by any chance?”

“At times the sea would be turbulent,” Edmund pointed out to his niece. “And so was everybody aboard. A festive atmosphere was not guarenteed daily.”

                                                   ━━

Edmund slammed the door shut. Fine, petty move, but he doubted the Dawn Treader’s walls were soundproof in the first place.

“I’ve said it twice and I will say it again Edmund, you can’t keep thrusting yourself into danger!”

“The serpent was my fear, my responsibility! I should be the person to take it. Not you, not Lucy, not Drinian. Me!”

Caspian’s hands latched onto the bedframe, its knuckles turning white from the sheer force applied. “That doesn’t entitle killing yourself, Edmund. Of everything I dare not command you except to refrain from putting your life on a line.”

“What do you expect of me, Caspian? Complete obedience?”

“No, I just wish for you to listen!”

“I do, I listen! And then I decide elseway. There’s a difference between rash and swift!”

“Edmund, all I ask is for you to heed my words when they are in your best interest. Every so often I would not mind if you reacted more… mildly.” The Narnian King glanced at Edmund, instantly regretting his choice. Stormy eyes bore into his own.

“Well, I apologize for not being of ‘milder’ disposition, although you ought to have realized that long ago.”

“Ed—”

“If it is gentleness you seek from me, Caspian,” Contempt lurched in his stomach. “I’m afraid you have the wrong sibling.”

Despising himself for the outburst ,and even more for Caspian’s ability to rouse such a temper out of him, Edmund rubbed harshly at his face, desperate to remove any evidence of vulnerability.

Lines of tears now tumbled down his cheeks, and through his blurry vision he sensed Caspian’s presence by his side. Edmund leaned into him, choked sobs tugging at his lover’s heartstrings.

“Edmund Pevensie,” He called sternly, albeit with clear adoration. “Don’t you announce such lies when you know how much I worship your fiery spirit. I love you, and I love each side of you. The passionate you, the shrewd you, the noble you, even and most of all, the infuriating you—Now have I made my point?”

The male in his arms acknowledged him with a softer cry. 

“I did not intend to hurt you with my words, they hail from good intentions. However, a moment ago I was under the impression that I would lose the most important person in my life, so forgive me if I’m currently reduced to a frantic man in love.”

“I’m so-sorry,” Edmund spluttered. “I was only thinking of keeping you and Lucy safe.”

“Maybe it is hypocritical of me to claim I wouldn’t do the same.” 

“Maybe it is,” He sniffled. “But you’re right, I could’ve been nicer about the whole thing.”

“Well then, you must make it up to me somehow.”

If anyone on the Dawn Treader had recalled correctly, the waves that night did not die down the slightest. Yet the two kings slumbered peacefully in their cabin, retreating into similar dreams with interwined hands.

                                                    ━━

“Mum and Dad squabble over the tiniest problems too. Eventually they work it out anyway,” Kathleen shrugged nonchalantly. “Are the Just King and Caspian like them?”

“More or less,” Edmund answered in amusement. 

“I would ask if they got their own happy ending...”

“But?” He prompted. Three heartbreaks in a night might be traumatizing for a child. 

“I’m starting to notice the picture here—Not many happily ever afters in Narnia.”

“To be fair, not many happily ever afters here either. Nonetheless, there is happiness and contentment, and they are somewhat close to that. ”

“Did the two kings have that? An almost happily ever after?”

                                                       ━━

Aslan’s confirmation was agonizing, though expected. This was it, goodbye to Narnia. No more wishing and praying on stars for another return. 

Lucy stood facing Aslan, the lion doing his best to comfort her. She was a lady now, akin to when she was one a thousand years earlier. This would hurt her immensely, but she would survive and thrive. For she was Queen Lucy the Valiant, and nobody would expect slighter from her. 

Eustace stood facing Reepicheep, the mouse biding farewell with praises for him. He was a Narnian now, different than he was a month earlier. This would inspire him, and he would continue to hope and believe. For he was Eustace Scrubb, and not even dragons could smother his courage .

Edmund stood facing the waves, the entrance to Aslan’s country. He was Edmund Pevensie, as he had been since the birth of time. This would haunt him. This would break him. This would free him. For he was Edmund Pevensie, and mending he did best. 

“I don’t believe this is goodbye,” Caspian whispered into his ears. “Since Narnia runs in our blood. And as long as she reaches your heart, I will be with you always.”

“As will I, my king.”

“I do not think I will know love this way again.”

“You may find yourself surprised.”

“But this is the one I shall carry to my grave.”

“Oh Cas, you horrible romantic.” And so they had made peace with their parting. At least in this lifetime.

“King Edmund the Just, Duke of Lantern Waste, Count of the Western March and Knight of the Noble Order of the Table, it has been an honor.”

“King Caspian X, Lord of Cair Paravel, and Emperor of the Lone Islands, the honor is all mine.”

                                                        ━━

Edmund dabbed at the corner of his eye, awed to find himself tearing up even so many years later.

“Yes, an almost happily ever after they did have.”

“Did the Just King ever want to stay?”

Have I ever? Do I still? Edmund knew the answer to such questions all too well, seeing as they had filled his mind day and night following the voyage. 

“He wishes a lot of things, sweetheart. A wider bed to stretch his legs, a larger office to place his shelves, a lighter pot to cook his supper. And for some time, a chance to remain in Narnia too.” He kissed the crown of her head gently. “But not this instant.” Or how could I have met you? 

“The time will come, Son of Adam, when you shall understand. For every sacrifice you sow, there will be fruit. What you reap may not amount to what you’ve given up, but you must realize it makes the fruit no less sweeter.”  

“Someday, I want to go on a ship too. Dad says I’m not allowed to be a pirate, but we’ll see.” She spoke with such resolution that Edmund could not bear to let her down. 

“I’m sure you’ll be able to convince him.” 

Kathleen, satisfied with his response, snuggled closer into his embrace. Edmund watched as her eyelids drooped and her breathing evened. The low hum of an engine outside signified the end of their night. 

Tucking his niece in, then snuffing out the candle and lights, Edmund was halfway out the door when a voice stopped him.

“Uncle Edmund?”

“Yes Kathleen?”

“I hope you’ll see Caspian again someday.”

He smiled. “I hope so too.” 

Narnia was, after all, a strange land—And with even stranger ways to unite two kings.

Knowing that was enough for Edmund.

-Finite-

[godshood-archived]

cher     vc     can     anyone     c     me     .     i’m     rosie     (     she     /     her     )     though     i     will     respond     to     any     number     of     profanities     with     sum     special     luv     for     village     idiot     !     i’m     not     hard     to     please     .     i     see     a     woman     going     feral     in     a     movie     ,     i     believe     that     movie     is     humanity’s     greatest     cinematic     achievement     .     who     am     i     ,     if     not     a     hole     for     henry     cavill     ?     umm     like     this     to     validate     me     or     to     get     sum     plotting     going     though     you     can     always     reach     me     on     discord     at     elizabeth debicki is 6′3#7585     n     ummmm     below     are     the     sewer     rats     !

case     file          :          ramorini     ,     luciano          my     god     ,     whose     performance     am     i     watching

associations          :          shoulders     worn     with     the     weight     of     the     world     —     an     atlas     too     young     and     endured     too     long     .     scars     like     ghosts     on     the     skin     telling     of     tribulations     from     a     past     life     long     forgotten     .     a     lack     of     decorum     rejected     seemingly     centuries     past     .

1938     ,     italy          what     is     this     space     between     myself     and     myself

memoir          :          palms     made     to     crumble     empires     and     leave     ruins     in     smoke     .     a     wreckoning     ,      a     monster     made     even     before     the     curse     of     a     family     legacy     .     the     wicked     ways     of     a     grandfather     who     saw     no     child     in     pleading     blue     eyes     —     marrow     and     flesh     to     be     molded     .     bloodied     flesh     ,     teeth     bared     ,     veins     of     ruined     ash     .     sanity     and     solace     in     siblings     he     held     too     tight     .     what     does     it     mean     to     be     human     ,     if     you     never     truly     were     ?     years     spent     lost     in     a     hatred     for     a     self     not     his     own     to     claim     .     wishes     his     hands     were     made     for     more     than     the     calamity     of     ruining     but     wishing     is     a     faithless     practice     .

full   name          :          luciano     dante     ramorini

nicknames          :          luc     ,     occasionally     luci     though     don’t     expect     to     not     get     punched     in     the     gut     for     it

birthdate          :          december     19

hometown          :          milan     ,     italy

current   location          :          sacred     heart     academy      ,      wales

languages   spoken          :          italian      ,      english      ,      latin

distinguishing   features          :          a     general     unapproachable     attitude

physical   ailments          :          n/a

neurological   conditions          :          n/a

positive          :          iconoclastic     ,     candid

negative          :          amoral     ,     parlous

fears          :          succombing     to     a     darkness     within     him     that     grows     ,     clawing     ,     begging     to     be     let     out

aspirations          :          escaping     this     life

likes          :          rock     music     ,     the     comfort     of     being     alone     ,     the     mutt     he     took     into     his     home     affectionately     named     bowie     ,     ice     baths

dislikes          :          questions     of     morality     ,     mint     chocolate     ,     having     his     head     crowded     with     thoughts     he     doesn’t     dare     to     say     out     loud     ,     movie     adaptations     of     books

case     file          :          del     bosque     ,     cressida          mouthful     of     white     hot     fire     ,     tongue     coated     in     poison

associations          :          a     scream     towards     nothingness     ;     throat     made     raw     and     hoarse     .     nightmares     from     a     past     life     that     awaken     your     body     in     a     heave     all     sweat     kissed     and     ribs     rattling     .     pomegranate     juice     sticky     where     it     runs     from     a     fist     clenched     too     tight     .

1938     ,     cuba          there’s     a     hunger     in     me     ,     something     vicious

memoir          :          born     where     womanhood     was     defined     by     having     a     voyeuristic     relationship     with     pain     ——     am     i     suffering     beautifully     ?     is     my     agony     lovable     ?     lived     too     long     as     a     carefully     constructed     performance     piece     to     those     who     would   see     themselves     as     supeior     and     power     (     taken     ,     not     granted     .     never     granted     )     promised     a     ceasation     of     begging     to     be     believed     ,     recognized     ,     acknowledged     .     a   willingness   to     burn     villages     to     the     ground     ,     drain     people     of     their     blood     ,     and     see     to     the     ruin     of     empires     but     still     thinks     men     to     be     the     worst     monster     of     all     .     years     have     not     granted     control     over     her     blood     lust     and     greed     for     power     .     a     stubborn     refusal     to     be     tamed     .

full   name          :          cressida     irene     del     bosque

nicknames          :          none

birthdate          :          november     14

hometown          :          santa     cruz     del     norte     ,     cuba

current   location          :          sacred     heart     academy      ,      wales

languages   spoken          :          spanish      ,      english

distinguishing   features          :          an     unassuming     ,     innocent     face

physical   ailments          :          n/a

neurological   conditions          :          n/a

positive          :          reticent     ,     sycophantic

negative          :          choleric     ,     scelestic

fears          :          completely     losing     her     humanity

aspirations          :          to     make     a     mark     on     the     world     where     it     counts

likes          :          milk     baths     with     orange     peels     and     flower     petals     ,     overcast     skies     teasing     rain     ,     whiskey     and     coke     ,     receiving     gifts     and     praise

dislikes          :          taking     orders     from     those     deemed     less     than     her     ,     religion     ,     being     threatened     or     challenged     ,     sacrificing     fashion     for     warmth

case     file          :          stafford     ,     delphine          there’s     something     off     about     that     girl     .     borderline

associations          :          wild     flowers     wilting     in     a     cracked     vase     ;     dry     petals     at     the     base     .     a     nightgown     torn     as     barefeet     trek     through     an     unforgiving     forest     —     thorns     catching     at     satin     and     lace     .     nosebleeds     after     a     moment     of     acute     stillness     ,     static     loud    where     it     hums     in    your     head     and     then     ,     suddenly     ,     quiet     .

1951     ,     france          any     little     shock     could     push     her     right     over     the     edge

memoir          :          old     money     ,     silver     spoon     to     quiet     bird     song     cries     to     the     tune     of     begging     for     love     ,     to     be     seen     .     striking     hands     and     wicked     tongues     .     neighbour’s     whispers     quelled     by     forced     smiles     and     chaste     family     portraits     .     made     to     be     docile     ,     seen     and     never     heard     .     fifteen     and     clinging     to     girlhood     ,     tabloids     racing     to     cover     the     story     :     grisly     home     murder     ,     young     daughter     only     survivor     .     when     they     ask     ,     she     cannot     say     what     happened     —     memory     thick     and     foggy     ,     blood     -     scented     ,     tasting     of     ash     .     distant     relatives     a     new     home     and     she’s     safe     now     ;     save     for     the     blackouts     ,     coming     to     and     finding     blood     that     is     not     her     own     .

full   name          :          delphine     ried     stafford

nicknames          :          dels

birthdate          :          july     5

hometown          :          nice     ,     france

current   location          :          sacred     heart     academy      ,      wales

languages   spoken          :          french     ,     english

distinguishing   features          :          a     shy     smile     almost     always     hidden     away

physical   ailments          :          n/a

neurological   conditions          :          dissociation

positive          :          seraphic     ,     stoic

negative          :          diffident     ,     heterotelic

fears          :          becoming     as     her     parents     were

aspirations          :          raise     a     family     and     give     them     the     world

likes          :          the     smell     of     ocean     air     ,     anything     chocolate     with     a     special     reverence     for     croissants     ,     art     nouveau     ,     tchaikovsky’s     valse     sentimentale

dislikes          :          regressing     into     a     self     she     doesn’t     recognize     ,     having     her     picture     taken     ,     unnecessary     cruelty     ,     whipped     cream     in     beverages

[gotatext]

PREFERRED NAME — nora. i think i started going by it in like, 2009?? my full name is eleanor but i hated it n thought it was way too pretentious n i never felt like it fitted me so when i started writing on forums i decided i’d be a nora rather than eleanor and then my school friends called me it and it just kinda stuck, the only person who calls me eleanor is my mum

PRONOUNS — she / her / ethereal being beyond comprehension

AGE — 23 but i tell everyone im 21 because even tho time is literally fake im desperately clinging to that fleeting thing we call youth trying to catch it like smoke in my hands

PINTEREST — i actually have two. this one is my main one where i just cram all my shit n i’ve had it for years and some of its super unorganised. then i also have this one which is one i made for exclusively female characters. it started as mythological figures but now its like, women in literature and the occasional oc as well. variety is the spice of life!

DISCORD — lindsay lohan’s meth#8664

TUMBLR (PERSONAL/MUSE/RPH) — i used to be froseths but now im pvrscphones cos ya gal is a fucking whore for mythology 

OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA YOU’D LIKE TO SHARE — oi oi guvna ere’s me twitta. also here’s my letterboxd n my goodreads if anyone still uses tht

MYER-BRIGGS — enfp / infp border .... the classic profile of a lit student

HP HOUSE — hufflepuff, am fuckin mad. 

ZODIAC — libra which is a joke because i am in no way balanced but i guess i AM indecisive and a peacekeeper so?

DO YOU BELIEVE IN ASTROLOGY? — i believe it when it says good shits gonna happen in my life and blame it if bad shit happens but i don’t strongly follow it i just find it interesting

HOW OLD WERE YOU WHEN YOU STARTED RPING ON TUMBLR — maybe like 14?? my first rp blog here is literally so embarassing i wrote as clove from the hunger games n my best friend irl wrote cato :/ it was wild

WHAT YEAR WAS IT? — like 9 years ago?? 2010 maybs

NAME A RANDOM ROLEPLAY THAT STICKS OUT IN YOUR MEMORY — me n my friend ellie made this really cool group the summer before we left for uni which was loosely based on a concept mentioned mayb once in the divergent series, but it gave us loads of freedom to make it our own thing. it was called the fringe n it was like..... this dystopian society where people with different genes were cut off from the rest of society n lived in overrun slum cities where different groups had like, a monopoly over weapons, produce, etc.... my character jack was the leader of this lost-boy-esque tribe called the wolf pack who were hunters n used to run across the rooftops wearing the skins of animals they’d killed and engage in tribal rituals with sacrifices to the gods n shit. sounds lame but everyone there was so invested in their character arcs that it was a shame to see it go. but ! it kind of reached its end point so we blew it up w nukes n they all died. tragic.

WHAT WEIRD ANIMAL WOULD YOU HAVE AS A PET IF IT WAS REALISTIC — a fox?? do ppl keep foxes? idk i’ve always just felt a sense of connection w them like when a fox stares at me im like this shit is life i am living and breathing in this bitch.... visceral

NAME THE FIRST SONG ON YOUR DISCOVER WEEKLY ON SPOTIFY OR THE FIRST SONG THAT COMES ON APPLE MUSIC / ITUNES SHUFFLE — everbody party tonight by cobra man n summer girl by haim..... not my usual stuff but big summer chillin vibes,.....

NAME A BOOK THAT YOU READ IN SCHOOL THAT YOU SURPRISINGLY LIKED — lord of the flies and also the handmaid’s tale. one of assignments was to write a chapter from another character’s perspective n i chose moira

NAME A BOOK YOU HATED THAT MOST PEOPLE LIKED — skellig. fuck off with ur asprin ugly bat man i don’t care. also of mice and men. don’t care about the rabbits or curley’s goddamn wife.

WHAT TV SHOW DID YOU RECENTLY BINGE? — im not a big binger bc i find it jst makes me depressed if i watch tv all day but im nearly finished stranger things season 3 n i recently finished euphoria (big rec but proceed w caution as quite triggering content)

FAVOURITE QUOTE — cool girl speech from gone girl. but also “there’s something dangerous about the boredom of teenage girls” i know its like.... such an overused quote but it really encapsulates this kind of feral girlhood that a few of my characters like bridget n greta have tapped into. i also loved the line “i feel like i could eat the world raw” from song of achilles, that really captures this kind of.... pure n childlike enthusiasm tht i wanna achieve w rory 

LINK TO A VINE THAT EXUDES YOUR ‘ENERGY’ — this is my energy completely am always covered in glitter n staring broodily out of the windows of ubers at 4am like im in the sad bit of an indie film 

DO YOU WRITE OUTSIDE OF RP? WHAT DO YOU WRITE? — uhh.... not as much as i shd.... i want to be a writer so i shd be makin some effort to get my stuff Out Into The World but im just not.... lol. ive done a lot of poetry collections . i wnt to finish a novel @ some point too.

THREE YOUTUBERS YOU STILL TRUST — bold of you to assume i trust any youtubers

A CELEBRITY CRUSH THAT JUST WON’T QUIT — id literally die for saoirse ronan n timothee chalamet :/ chance perdomo also owns my ass. 

EVER MEET A CELEBRITY? SHARE YOUR STORY — i once high-fived dani harmer, the actress who played tracy beaker. today my sister text me tryin to make me guess what celebrity she just saw on holiday in wales and for ages she let me think it was timmothee but it was actually bradley walsh from the chase :/

WHAT’S YOUR PICTURE-PERFECT NIGHT? — i am in a bomb ass crop top and mini skirt, several scrunchies in my hair, glitter all over my face, wearing cowboy boots. we eat dinner in a trendy but affordable pub that doubles up as a cocktail bar n then we drink zombies or sex on the beaches n go to a rave where everyone is on the same wavelength n i share drugs with girls in the toilets and we swap numbers knowing we will never text each other but its ok bc in that moment we feel like we are soulmates and everyone is super drunk n touching everyone else n its all very visceral and we walk through the woods when the rave ends and lie in the grass because we wish to suck out all the marrow of life 

A CONSPIRACY THEORY YOU KINDA BELIEVE IN — princess diana was murdered 

ARE ALIENS REAL? — maybe the real aliens are the friends we made along the way

PLAY ANY PHONE GAMES? WHICH ONES? — love island game im addicted and way too invested in my fictional relationship with bobby, a cartoon

WHAT’S A FILM YOU LOVED WHEN YOU WERE YOUNG AND RECENTLY WATCHED, ONLY TO FIND OUT YOU DON’T ANYMORE — bold of u to assume i remember my childhood. but if we’re talking last 10 years angust, thongs n perfect snogging is so so cringe 

DO YOU COLLECT ANYTHING? — pairs of glasses belonging to other ppl when they break / get new ones even though i can see perfectly well. 

WHAT’S SOMETHING YOU WANT TO LEARN MORE ABOUT BUT YOU’RE TOO LAZY? — mythology...... always a craving and a wish i’d read like ancient texts but my school wasn’t good enough to do greek or latin or any of that shit n even tho i could read english translations i cant be bothered. also criminal psychology

THREE LANGUAGES YOU DON’T SPEAK, BUT WISH YOU COULD — italian, french and latin

MOVIE YOU’VE WATCHED MORE THAN 5 TIMES — ladybird, about time, angus thongs, shrek 2, what we do in the shadows, the history boys, atonement, coraline, the breakfast club, ferris bueller’s day off

NAME A FICTIONAL CHARACTER FROM TV/FILM/MOVIE/GAME/BOOK THAT YOU FIND YOURSELF PROJECTING ON / YOU RELATE TO — cecilia lisbon. rue in euphoria. alison brie in glow. adam parrish in the raven cycle. richard papen. olivia cooke’s character in thoroughbreds. allen ginsberg in kill your darlings. lily in sex education. holliday grainger’s character in the film animals --- i too am an aspiring writer who never writes and just gets drunk instead .

DO YOU FOLLOW ANY SPORTS? WHO DO YOU ROOT FOR? — no. cba

HOBBIES BESIDES WASTING AWAY HERE? — i go to the movies basically every day bcos i work in a cinema. im also a voracious reader n i occasionally do theatre or costume making

PLUG A TV SHOW / MOVIE / BOOK / VIDEO GAME / ETC… YOU WISH MORE PEOPLE WOULD CHECK OUT — where the wild things are (film by spike jonze).  animals. beats. the book fen by daisy johnson and a girl is a half formed thing by eimar mcbride. andy warhol’s biography from a to b and back again

WHOSE BRAIN WOULD YOU LIKE TO PICK, ALIVE OR DEAD? — phoebe waller-bridge on how i get her life. carey mulligan on how she got to be such a good actress n how i can become her. maybs wes anderson. maybs gillian flynn. i tend to listen to podcasts w the ppl i really wanna pick the brains of.

TEAM EDWARD OR JACOB? — edward :/

LAST MOVIE SEEN IN THEATRE — blinded by the light n i lovd it

DO YOU STILL READ? — when i finished uni i kinda got out of the habit but this week i finished two books so ive set myself the challenge of a book a week.

IF SO, WHAT ARE YOU CURRENTLY READING? — i finished song of achilles yesterday n i also finished call me by your name yesterday. started circe by madeline miller today, im also partway through milkman by anna burns and the plays of annie barker

ON A SCALE OF 1-10, HOW MUCH DID YOU HATE FILLING THIS OUT? – 3 i didnt hate it bcos at heart i am self-indulgent and love fashioning some sense of self when i feel lost in a world that is scary and constantly changing 

[thewhiterabbit42]

Candy Capers

Special guest piece (gen fic)

Summary: Your Halloween takes a terrifying turn  Written by:  Rabbit’s manfriend Prompt: bolded but withheld because of spoilers Word Count: ~1k Tags/Warnings: Violence, social commentary (he’s such a troll), 11 year old reader, first person POV, Character death (child), could easily be the opening to an episode of Supernatural A/N:  This is not my usual content, and I would normally not subject my tag’s list to my boyfriend’s shenanigans, but this is totally worth the read.

***Please do not repost, reproduce, or copy my work to any other site without my written permission.  Even this gem.  Giving credit does NOT count.***   

“The World Health Organization has announced new plans to combat the growing childhood obesity epidemic…”

The sound of the television was a low hum of background noise. I was more interested in finishing my costume so I could go Trick or Treatin’ tonight. I wasn’t able to go last year on account of mom’s failing health. Who makes an 11 year old girl take care their terminally ill mother? On Halloween of all days, a holiday specifically for children. 

I had just sewn the last button on to my angel costume and was eager to show dad all my hard work before hitting up the town.

“Finished!” I said.

“Quiet the fuck down you little brat! I can’t hear the TV!” Dad screamed from his easy chair.

Dad had turned back to drinking once mom finally passed a few days short of her 40th birthday. She was his high school sweetheart and he hadn’t been the same since. We used to go to river every day and watch the steam boats, but now it’s all he can do to get out of bed.

Deflated, I gathered up my costume and candy bag and headed off to my friend Amy’s house. We had planned to meet there and get ready together. She was going to be dressing up as a devil and me, the angel. I don’t even think dad noticed I left, he just continued to yell at the screen about his tax dollars going towards social programs.

When I got to Amy’s, I was greeted by the usual butterflies. I had been having strange feelings about her. We had grown close since mom died, but my school guidance counselor told me these feelings were unnatural and that I would go to hell.  Fitting, that Amy was going to be the devil.

I brushed the feelings aside, chalking them up to girlhood. We were ready to go in what seemed like a flash. I had to pat myself on the back. If mom taught me anything it was my way around a needle and thread. My costume looked amazing, wings adorned with Christmas tinsel and I had even rigged up a small fan to keep them blowing around. I looked like I was flying. Amy was in a typical store bought devil costume. Coming from a wealthy family, she always solved her problems with money.

We started our candy venture on Main Street. We had mapped out the prime houses for candy weeks in advance, however few and far between they were. The town has really gone down the dumps ever since the factory closed. Amy’s parents were able to get out before the crash from their high positions in the company. Some even believed they were the cause of it, but I trust Amy when she says they are innocent.

Dad seemed to have lost everything though. His job, his wife, and he doesn’t seem to want to hold on to his daughter. What money he does have only goes towards beer it seems. If it wasn’t for the school programs, I don’t know what I would eat. If there was another silver lining for tonight, at least my belly would be full of delicious candy.

Amy said goodbye to her mother who had dropped us off in her van and we rushed off to our first house. I was getting so many compliments on my angel costume. Before I knew it, my bag was half full of candy. A couple of houses were even giving out full chocolate bars, those houses were always the best. It was about this time I first noticed the white truck, a sinister snake emblazoned on it side. There were several vehicles out tonight, but for some reason this truck stood out to me. I slyly brought Amy’s attention to the truck, but she brushed it off and told me it was nothing, that I shouldn’t worry.

We visited Mrs. Anderson’s house, moms best friend. She always had great stories to tell about mom, like how she won the state sewing competition shortly before I was born, making a various array of colorful baby onesies that I ended up wearing until I was two. I wish I could say that Mrs. Anderson had a good selection of candy, but she didn’t. I asked her if she had noticed the white truck in the neighborhood, but she laughed me off as having an overactive imagination.

As we left her house, I saw the front end of the white truck peeking out from behind a vehicle. I could not shake the feeling that it was following us...watching us.

To get pretty much anywhere in town, you had to pass the old factory. A creepy sight to behold on any night, but more so on this night. Maybe it was the fog, or maybe it was the mysticism of the holiday, but I was getting terrible vibes. As we were walking by, I began to notice. We had not been out for very long, but the previous kid filled streets now felt empty. Not as if kids had finished their trick or treating and had returned home, no, they were just...gone.

From everything I had seen on television or the movies, I thought it would be loud. But with this there was not even the sound of a horn or the screech of brakes. The white truck slammed into Amy, her lifeless body slammed and skidded across the pavement.

She was dead in an instant.

I stood in silent horror, unable to scream. A man emerged emotionless from the truck. I could now see clearly the snake emblem on the side of the truck, wrapped around a pole over a map of the world. The words “The World Health Organization” on the side.

The man charged maniacally at me, ripping my bag of candy from my hand. I was in shock unable to move as he began to devour pounds and pounds of candy right in front of me. Slurring out what sounded like, “This is for your own good,” and “childhood obesity,” between handfuls. Once finished, the man left...after what seemed like ages I could only mutter a single sentence.

“WHO ate all my candy.”

A/N:  I can’t believe he took one of my fluff prompts and turned it into a dad joke XD  Thank you for everyone for humoring him :)

ALL the tags:

@girl-next-door-writes​ @fand0maniac​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @baritonechick​ @lucifer-in-leather​ @blondecoffeecake​  @ourloveisforthelovely​​ @tistai​ @room-with-a-cat​ @authoressskr​ @revwinchester​ @flufy07​ @tardis-is-mine​ @tangle-of-ivy​ @luciferseclipse @mrswhozeewhatsis @protectivedestiel ​ @angelofwinchester17 @crowleys-poppet-queen-of-assgard @phantomwarrior12 @jeanjeaniethings @wontlookaway @copperseraphim @fandomsrourlives @archangelgabriellives @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mizzezm

[pynkhues]

Hi for the game( any genre) 🤦🏽🙅🏽✨💋🌃🤔😌❤️‍🔥❤️

Hi! Thank you!! These were so fun to think about!

Facepalm emoji - Can You Ever Forgive Me? (2018). One of my fave films of recent years tbh, I think it's wildly underrated. A drama about a failing author who starts forging and selling letters from far more famous authors for money only to start getting off on her own grift, Melissa McCarthy is at her absolute best. It's just really, really good.

Nope emoji - Possession (1981). A cult classic horror having a bit of a resurgence lately, Possession tells the story of a young married couple who may or may not be in control of their bodies anymore. Then it gets - - really weird, haha.

Sparkle emoji - A Star is Born (1954). By far the best version of this story as it's probably the only one that successfully balances the two leads, particularly her ascent and his descent. Plus Judy Garland is magic personified in this one.

Smooch emoji - Double Indemnity (1944). Movies wish they had what Double Indemnity had - sexy, sharp, and totally thrilling, this is a movie about seduction, deception and murder. What's not to love?

Cityscape emoji - Tokyo Story (1953). An elderly couple travel from their village to Tokyo to visit their daughter in law after losing their son / her husband in WWII. Every time I watch this, I really discover something new to love about it. It's a gentle film, but one that feels soaked in grief, love and tenderness, and perfectly captures what it is to live in the aftermath of tragedy.

Thinking emoji - The Act of Killing (2012). Not to be watched lightly, this documentary is about the genocide in Indonesia in 1965-1966. Not only that, it tries to understand the mentality of those who did it by asking them to re-create their actions through short films. It's a harrowing insight into propaganda engines, corruption, gang warfare and what I can only really describe as evil, and a viewing experience like no other.

Relieved/Content emoji - A Little Princess (1995). I wasn't entirely sure about this one, but ended up interpretting it as a comfort movie, and I was just talking to Megan about A Little Princess yesterday, so it sprung immediately to mind. I love this movie, and it's approach to girlhood, imagination and found family is really special.

Heart emoji - In the Mood for Love (2000). This movie is e v e r y t h i n g to me. The story of two people who discover their spouses are having an affair and decide to try and have an affair of their own has no right being this deeply romantic, and Tony Leung and Maggie Cheung are simply everything. Plus the score is to die for.

Fire emoji - The Heiress (1949). I almost swapped this with In the Mood for Love, as the former is definitely sexier, but then again, The Heiress isn't really a love story, rather it's a film about self-worth, so for that alone I figure it deserved the fire emoji. Olivia de Havilland is one of my favourite actresses of Hollywood's Golden Age, and this is a perfect example as to why. She's perfect, and this movie is timeless.

Send me an emoji + a genre and I'll send you a movie rec