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padfootagain · 3 years

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The Adviser

Hey! I'm writing this little fic for @musicallisto's event! I'm using her prompts 4 and 29 for Caspian :

4. “Can you stay with me?”

29.“Their hands on your skin…”

I'm also including a bit of the drunken confessions trope for this one!

I hope you all like it, tell me what you think about it, and thank you again Clara for hosting this event! This is just pure fluff, you know me, it's soft hours time!!!! We love cute clichés here!

Pairing : Caspian x reader

Word Count: 3597 (I've proofread but I've been writing for four hours and my brain is fried, I am so sorry if there are more mistakes than usual, forgiiiiiive meeeeee!!!)

You shouldn't have been drinking like this. Deep down, you knew it was a mistake. But what choice did you have? It was the only way to forget what this princess what doing at that moment.

Her hand was on Caspian's arm, and you didn't fail to notice the way her fingers slipped down the length of his velvet sleeve to brush against the skin of his wrist. You took another large gulp of liquor, but the image was already printed all over your eyelids when you closed your eyes and tried to blink the sight away.

It was more than you could stand. So much more than what you were humanly able to stomach. And the worst part of it all, really, was that none of this was Caspian's fault. He didn't even know about how you felt for him, so how could he have guessed that him letting her touch him like this, being so close to him, were hurting so.

But it did hurt. God, it hurt so bad.

The room was full of noises and conversations. You were celebrating the signing of a new commercial agreement between Narnia and their neighbours. It was exciting, and all the politicians that had been involved in the elaboration of the treaty and its negotiations were now enjoying a much-deserved celebration. The treaty had been signed earlier in the afternoon, and hopefully it was the first step towards a friendship between the two nations.

And you should have been celebrating as well, because after all, this treaty was your baby. You had written parts of it, you had worked for months to convince lords that this treaty was a good thing. You had worked and worked relentlessly for so long on this project. It was your baby, in a way.

When you had begun this adventure, you had envisioned yourself in the position you were finally in now. With a signed treaty resting on the king's desk in his study, and surrounded by lords, princesses and other important political figures, drinking wine and eating pastries and laughing as the future seemed a little brighter than it was before.

What you had never imagined though, was that during the months you had spent working closely with the King of Narnia, you would fall madly, desperately, hopelessly in love with him.

You wanted to slap some sense into your own head for falling for him the way you had, but it would be useless. There was nothing you could have done to avoid it. And every time you looked at him, you were reminded of this cruel truth. Nothing could have prevented you from falling in love with the king, not even yourself, not even him. Nothing, no one, could save you now.

Sometimes, it was driving you mad, really. The way he was so kind, and a little shy around you. You forgot that he was even a king, then. He had a way to make you feel safe by simply smiling at you. There was something in the way he walked, in the way he held himself, that would have betrayed his rank if he had tried to hide it. He was so… inspiring, in a way. More than that, he was magnetic. When he walked into a room, it was clear who he was. A mere glimpse at him, and even if one had no idea what the King of Narnia looked like, they would have recognized him. But then he would blush in the most precious way when complimented, bending his head as if to hide his reaction, and there was so much hesitation in his polite smiles, as if he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Maybe it was that contrast that had make your heart melt. The way he was the most charismatic man when you saw him, and the kindest when you talked to him.

Yes, yes, that was it. Or at least, part of it. Maybe it was the starting point of it all. Then, every single detail that made him unique had sealed the deal, and your heart was his, for good.

At the end of the day, though, no matter how much you loved him and how friendly and kind he was to you, he was still the King, and you were merely a representative. There was nothing special about your ancestry, even if your position now was quite high in the government. But you were one of the King's advisors, that was all, and every time you looked at one of these princesses throwing all their charms and manners at Caspian, you really couldn't hold it against him to fall for them and not you.

If he had known these inner thoughts of yours, he would have been adamant at contradicting you, at telling you that you were just as special as they were. But he was busy talking to one of them, and you were busy drinking. It ought to be the way things were meant to be, right?

After a couple more glasses of wine, your head was starting to spin and Caspian seemed to finally notice that something was off with you. He frowned hard as he saw you reaching for the nearest wall to keep your balance, while you lifted your glass to your lips again. You finished all the alcohol in one gulp. It wasn't like you though, to drink like this…

At first, he thought maybe you were simply letting loose more than usual in celebration for the treaty, but you didn't seem happy at all. On the contrary, your features were twisted in one of pain. Were you sick? A wave of fear rushed to his heart, crushing the little organ in his chest. He hurried to excuse himself and leave the princess he had been talking to. He was aware it was barely polite, but if you were unwell, he didn't exactly care about the etiquette. In fact, all his thoughts were set upon you and his worry now, he couldn't even realize what he was doing as he crossed the room in just a few long strides, ignoring people in the crowd trying to intercept him as he passed by.

You hadn't noticed him approaching, you had settled your attention on the marble ground, in an attempt to avoid seeing Caspian talk with the flirty princess that had been clinging to him for the past hour. Only when his brown boots appeared on the floor right before you did you notice his presence. You looked up in a jolt, your hair growing with fear and apprehension, while your quick movement made your head spin even more than before.

"Your Majesty," you mumbled, trying to stand a little straighter. "Can I… do anything for you?"

Your words were slurred, obvious sign of your intoxication. Caspian's frown only deepened.

"I was about to ask you the same question, you don't seem to be well," the king answered.

"I… I am perfectly fine," you lied.

"You seem to need a bit of fresh air," Caspian insisted. "Let me accompany you to the gardens."

You didn't have the strength to fight against him or argue in any way. Besides, Caspian was right, you did need a bit of fresh air to clear your mind. So you let him take your arm, assuring your balance, while he guided you outside.

The afternoon was slowly dying out into the early evening. The sun was still quite high in the summer sky, but the heat it released had diminished as the hours passed by. A salty breeze was blowing through the roses in full blossoms and the branches of the tall oaks that offered their shades to the visitors. It was quiet though, most of the inhabitants of the castle being either busy with their daily tasks, or at the reception. It was an easy task for Caspian to find a quiet spot for the two of you to walk by.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, noticing your steps were a little steadier, even if he still kept a careful hold on your arm, just in case.

"I did need a bit of air, indeed. Thank you. I feel better," you nodded.

You tried to give him a smile, but it was harder to hide your feelings when you were drunk. It seemed more like a wince, instead, and Caspian fully turned to you this time, stopping you in your tracks in the middle of the narrow path in between the bushes of roses. He remained silent for a while, the noises of the wind in branches and the bees buzzing in the flowers the only sounds you could hear. And in this quiet place, staring right into the king's dark eyes was even more hypnotizing than usual. You were suddenly very aware that the two of you were alone. And very aware that his hand still rested on your arm too…

"Are you sick? What is wrong?"

Under his insisting tone, you recognized worry. If Caspian had tried to hide it, he had failed miserably.

"I… am quite fine. I think I simply celebrated a little too much…"

"You seemed sad back there," the king shook his head, cutting you off because you could finish your lie. "You did not seem to be celebrating at all. Why? What happened?"

"Nothing. I guess… I must be very tired. The negotiations were difficult and…"

"Why are you lying to me?"

You merely stared at him, not knowing what to answer.

"I know you are lying. I know you. Why will you not tell me what is bothering you?"

"It… is nothing…"

"Is it why you drank too much?"

"I am not drunk…"

"Yes, you are. You can barely stand."

"I can," you replied, even if it wasn't true. You knew that if Caspian suddenly let go of you, you would probably fall down in the roses, and the thought of the many thorns cutting your skin wasn't particularly appealing to you.

Caspian's frown slowly disappeared though. From worry, his expression changed to one of sadness and hurt, but you didn't understand why.

"I am your friend, Y/N. Why will you not tell me? I could help…"

You let out a bitter laugh. The liquor was taking the better of your judgement, for you would have never answered him this way had you been sober.

"My friend? As if we were friends…"

Caspian stared at you with the most puzzled expression you had ever seen adorning his handsome features.

"What do you mean? Of course, we are friends."

"We are not friends. You are the king, and I am… a commoner working for you."

There was so much hurt passing through Caspian's eyes, but you didn't feel guilty. It was true, after all. And the sight of this woman with him… with her eyes all over him, and the way she leaned towards him…

It was more than you could take…

"I thought we were more than just that by now," Caspian answered in a low voice.

"How could we be?"

"Why did you drink so much tonight?"

"Because I cannot take it anymore… I… these feelings I just… I can't fight them…"

"Feelings? What…?"

But then it dawned on him, only, not completely.

Of course, a question of heart would explain your sadness and your drinking tonight, such behaviours that were so out of character for you. He wasn't particularly good at hiding the way his heart broke in his chest at the thought that you loved someone else, though. He had to be thankful for your inebriated state that made you fail to notice his reaction when it was written all over his features.

He opened his mouth to ask who this was about, but you spoke first. The wine was making your mind blurry, your thoughts turning into a whirlwind, bumping into each other and making your usual filters lift. In any other circumstances, you would have never said any of the words you were about to utter, but then, liquor and broken hearts make confessions tumble easily.

"I cannot do this anymore. I want to resign."

"Resign? What…?"

"I cannot handle it. Being around you all the time…" you went on, barely realizing Caspian was trying to speak. "And today seeing her… her hands on your skin and…"

Your voice broke, and you lost your balance for good. Caspian was still here though, and he managed to catch you in his arms right before you would fall to the dusty ground.

His brain was repeating again and again your words, trying to analyse their meanings…

Did it mean that… you… was it about him, then?

"I will take you to your room. You need to rest. Come on…"

With the gentlest gestures, he guided you back inside and to your room, crossing empty corridors and avoiding people as much as he could. No one else but him needed to see you like this.

He helped you settle in bed, and only then did he notice that you were crying.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled.

He brushed your tears away. He had never touched you this way before, and it made his heart pound in his chest like it had never before. He let his fingers linger a little longer on your cheek.

"You must rest. We will talk about this in the morning."

He gave you a warm smile before turning away, but you held him back, catching his wrist before he could walk too far away. He turned to you again with a puzzled look.

"Can you stay with me?"

Your voice was barely more than a whisper, uncertain and fragile. He was used to hearing it loud and confident while you discussed amongst politicians and advisers, it was such a drastic change, it scared him. It was evident you needed someone to take care of you at that moment, and Caspian wouldn't have let anyone else do it in his stead.

He should have gone back to the reception, but how could he leave your side now?

So, he dragged a chair next to your bed, and sat down, offering you a reassuring smile. He held your hand in his, giving it a soothing squeeze.

"As you wish. But you need to sleep now."

"Are you angry?"

"No, I am not. We will talk about it tomorrow. Now, you need to sleep. Close your eyes."

You did as ordered, and fell asleep as soon as your eyelids had fallen. The warmth of Caspian's hand on yours was the last thing you remembered before surrendering to slumber.

-----------------------------

Your headache wasn't the worst thing that happened when you woke up. Nor was your nausea, or the disgusting taste that lingered on your tongue. No, the worst part of waking up was the note you found folded by the side of your bed.

Caspian would be waiting to see you in his office.

If parts of the previous day were a little blurry, you still remembered perfectly your conversations with the King.

He would ask you to resign. Or he might even fire you altogether. He could have asked you already for someone to pick up your things and carry them out of the castle… but then, Caspian was a kind man, and you weren't altogether surprised when you picked up an outfit to dress up and found all your belongings exactly where they belonged.

After your behaviour, there was no other alternative. You had been disrespectful, and you highly doubted that the king would appreciate working with someone who had romantic feelings for him.

But your pride made you decide that you would resign first. You would not let him throw you out of the castle. If you had to leave, which was painful enough already, never to see the man you loved again, then at the very least, you could be spared the humiliation of being pushed away. At least, you would be the one leaving.

You made your way to his office, at last. Taking a deep breath before knocking on the door. Your heart missing a beat when you heard Caspian's low voice answering on the other side. You walked in.

Caspian welcomed you with a smile, he was sitting at his desk, his back to the stained-glass windows that painted colours all across the room. The light coming from behind him made the image ethereal, a vision you could have summoned in one of your dreams…

"Good morning, Y/N. Please, take a sit," he invited you. "Are you feeling better?"

You struggled to swallow, cleared your voice. His voice made butterflies tickle your belly, but you ignored the feeling. You ignored how much you wanted to comply and approach him. This was not the time. Now was the time to be strong.

You remained at a safe distance from his desk, refusing to sit down.

"Your Majesty," you tried to keep your voice steady, but couldn't help the slight shake that accompanied your words. "I am well, thank you."

He opened his mouth to speak again, but you interrupted him, raising your hand to silence him.

"Please, your Majesty… let me speak."

He nodded, letting you continue. You took a deep breath, and finally gathered the strength you needed to speak again.

"I…My behaviour yesterday was… unforgiveable. And I am aware that I have crossed a line. What transpired last night is the proof that I can no longer work for you and serve Narnia at the best of my abilities as your adviser anymore. It is why I would like to resign. I would be very thankful if you would agree to allow me to stay in the castle for one last week, to allow me to look for a new home. My resignation will be effective immediately, and I can write it down, if you want me to."

Caspian remained silent for a moment, before slowly standing up, and walking towards you. His hands behind his back, he only stopped when he was but one step away from you. You stared at him, waiting for his reaction, completely motionless.

"I agree that… your confessions from last night make it impossible for us to continue like this. Things cannot remain the same now."

You fought with all your might to refrain your tears, that merely gather at the corner of your eyes, but didn't fall. You didn't flinch, nor did you back away though.

"I do think that you need to resign from your position in our government. I would not be… proper… to have my advisor be…"

"I will inform the rest of the staff immediately," you interrupted him. Which was incredibly rude, interrupting the king… but you couldn't take it. You couldn't stomach the pain that it would make you feel to hear him say the words he was about to utter.

It was enough that he didn't love you. You didn't need him to say it out loud.

You turned on your heels, but Caspian didn't let you step away. He caught your wrist before you could move away, and you turned back towards him, your eyes growing in surprise.

"I have not dismissed you, yet," he told you, quirking an eyebrow.

"I apologize, your Majesty."

Caspian gave you a smile. You wondered what was worth smiling for though.

"I thought we had agreed that there was no need to call me this way when we are alone."

"Things have changed."

"Not nearly enough, yet."

It was your time to frown.

"There is no need for you to move out of the Castle."

"But I…"

"Would you like to take a walk in the gardens with me this afternoon?"

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, completely confused.

"I… don't understand…"

"Did you mean what you said? Yesterday? Or did I not understand you right? I thought you said you had feelings for me."

You nodded, unable to answer, fleeing Caspian's gaze.

"I did… but…"

"Well, I am asking you if you would like to take a walk with me this afternoon."

"But I… why?"

His smile grew fonder, and you noticed the way his fingertips were shaking when he reached to hold your other hand.

"I… was hoping you would… like to spend some time with me," Caspian added, hesitant this time, a little shy, pinker shades appearing to colour his cheeks. "Not as my advisor but… as… a friend…"

"A friend?" you repeated, stunned.

"Or well… maybe… maybe more than a friend."

"But I… I am…"

"I feel the same way."

He had said the last sentence as fast as he could, forcing the words out like he would have pulled an arrow out of a wound. In one, quick motion, before the strength and courage would fail him.

Your mouth fell open.

"You… you do?" you stuttered, out of breath for some reason. You only just then noticed that you seemed to have forgotten how to breathe altogether.

"I do. And well… I am afraid that you need to resign, for it would be impossible for me to court one of my advisors. But as you have done so, I thought… what about a walk?"

There were a thousand thoughts swarming in your head, and most of them were going against Caspian's idea. Most of them told you this was impossible.

But you chose to simply ignore all of them, and answer what your heart was desperately begging you to say instead.

"Yes. Yes, a walk would be lovely."

#caspian #caspian x y/n #king caspian x reader #caspian x reader #caspian x you #king caspian #narnia #caspian fanfiction #caspian fanfic #caspian imagine #narnia imagine #narnia fanfic #narnia fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #writing challenge

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the-second-tonks · 3 years

Text

The Dark Past | E.P

part 4 of the series

You can check out other parts here and even something more on Edmund!

This is not a stand-alone part , so I'd recommend you to read the other parts first .

Warnings : Arranged marriage , changing POV's , time skip , English is not my first language . anything else?

Pairing : Edmund Pevensie x fem!reader , Lucy Pevensie x fem!reader (platonic)

Summary : After an alliance marriage with King Edmund , y/n begins the new chapter of her life only to be welcomed by her worst fears - thunder and lightning . But the thing to be noted was the fearless princess- y/n had a fear as such ..

Age : Edmund is 18 , reader is 17. (Golden age)

Third person POV

Not delaying much , y/n and Edmund leave behind the walls of cair paravel to spend time together , after a breakfast which had some awkward glances shared between Edmund and y/n and some funny glances between the other siblings .

Nothing to lie , Ed and y/n both knew that the other one knows that there's no scandal going on and that y/n was simply gone to Lucy's room yesterday night . But the uncomfortable silence was something that was disturbing the couple who walked towards the stable to get themselves a horse for long travels , as they both clicked together while answering the question on how to travel ?

"Ah ! Kind Edmund and Queen Y/N ! What a pleasure to have your highness here !" A white horse , Dorcas as they called her , greeted the couple .

King Edmund greeted her back and asked her "Dorcas , would you mind giving our new Queen a lift ?" .

"Not at all my king !" Dorcas came forward rather proudly , but just as y/n was about to climb , a sweet voice spoke up .

"Whatt?! Y/n , you and Edmund should go on the same horse !" Lucy stuck the idea out , wait .. they both didn't notice her presence until now !

Both y/n and Edmund wiped their heads towards her , who was smiling teasingly .

Edmund , if would've been honest in here , really wanted y/n to sit in front of him while he rode the horse , he didn't know why , he just wanted her to , but he waited for y/n to make a move . Where as y/n wanted the same , but wasn't too comfortable asking for Edmund to do it . Not knowing why , Edmund thought she wasn't comfortable with the idea and popped up with an excuse quite easily

"Lu , we are gonna race on the horses , we had a talk about it already , right y/n ?" Edmund asked her for cover up.

"Yeah Lucy" y/n timidly replied .

Lucy wasn't that convinced but agreed and took farewell . Edmund let out a breath he didn't knew he held .

Y/n concentrated back on mounting the horse and did it as easily as one ever could . Edmund smiled rather proudly at that , the feeling that 'this girl' is my wife warmed his heart ... And slowly his cheeks , as he realised y/n was staring at her , while he was being dumbfounded .

He cleared his throat and mounted Philips , his horse.. and both the horses slowly walked swaying their tails .

Y/n's POV

Holy . Aslan.

Was Edmund staring at me with pride ?

Wait.

He was staring at me . He was staring at me !!!! Oh my my-

Wow I can't believe I'm reacting so much on a simple thing as this. He might be staring proudly at Dorcas , you know narnian horses .. like they are something to be proud of . The way the horses look is nothing less than beautiful .. oh by the way , did I mention to myself on how handsome Edmund was looking today ? His messy hairs , twinkling eyes and his dark green clothes .. oh and the crown on his head just made him more enchanting , just a king right out of someone's dreams . Okay I've been trying to stop these embarrassing thoughts but...it's been tough to not get attracted to this king ... Anyways , as my horse , Dorcas began moving , I tried my best to look at everything except Edmund .

Also hoping it doesn't rain today .

Edmund's POV

She caught me staring at her .. eww that's so embarrassing . I hope she doesn't think of me as creepy or something . I've been trying to not react to these strange butterflies in my stomach , but .. it's tough . Ofcourse I know what those butterflies are for , I maybe took an liking to my wife ... No I have to get over with constantly calling her my wife.. what's wrong with me ? I know I'm actually starting to like her in a romantic way , but I can't just start claiming her , right ? As Philip began moving , I looked ahead , making sure to make this time that I got to spend with her , a memorable one.

Time skip..

Still Edmund's POV

"They're beautiful" Y/n spoke softly , as if trying not to disturb the peaceful environment .

I watched her fingers delicately touch the petal of the beautiful flower as the horses slowed down a bit for us to take a look . We were in the forest of Narnia , roaming around and smiling .. well atleast I was smiling like a foolish everytime she looked in my direction out of surprise for the beauty of the forest . The sun shone gracefully , making it warm , but not hot , which I was grateful for ofcourse .

"Yeah , Narnia has tons of beautiful views ." I wanted to add the line 'even queens' but .. it felt too soon to flirt .. and I don't even think that's a good line .

She smiled warmly at me as her Dorcas moved to the end of the forest. Finally , we could sit somewhere and I could concentrate on something else than my wife- y/n's beauty . As soon as the view in front of me cleared , I noticed we were near a cliff as soon as we exited the forest . The air was in full force , but gentle at the same time . It felt nice to see a whole bunch of Narnia from somewhere top . I slowly slid down of my horse and saw y/n doing the same . Could I be more thankful to aslan ? No , because I know I'm not that gentlemanly when it comes to it . I wouldn't have offered y/n any help and that would've been such a bad impression , good that she's independent . I looked at her to indicate that I was going to the cliff . Noticing my looks , she followed me .

With our legs dangling in free air and our hands mere inches apart , we admired the view in front of us .

I didn't want to think of work , I felt so relaxed at the moment . With that , I closed my eyes to feel everything around me .

Y/n's POV

Throughout the ride in the forest , I felt Edmund's eyes on me . Maybe ? Or was he looking at the other things in my direction? Ugh .. I could've atleast looked back into his eyes at that time to know .. but I didn't . I don't even know why I begin to blush as soon as my eyes meet his today .

At the moment , I could feel his body heat as our hands laid mere inches apart , on the floor , supporting our lean and relaxed posture . I looked at him , his side face looked at pretty as he was . His eyes were closed as he took in the warmth and positivity .. maybe he was happy that he got a day off , and I felt like he was enjoying how relaxed he felt . But the quietness didn't feel right ... I wanted to enjoy and make sure I don't waste a second with him .. because I know how busy a king could be . I don't know how just some attraction for him can change me from an unhappy bride to a curious one . I wanted to know him ....

Before my brain could stop , my mouth threw up the words "So , Tell me about yourself Edmund "

Edmund peeled open his eyes and those intense eyes met mine , infinite number of emotions in them ..

"Hello , my highness . My name is Edmund . Edmund Pevensie from Narnia . I'm the King Just and it's a pleasure to meet you" he spoke with a small smile/smirk tugged at his lips .

I let out a small laugh and spoke "Oh ! It's a pleasure to meet you , King Just . I'm Y/N . Y/N Y/L/N-" I stopped myself as I realised that I was no more a Y/L/N .

"Oh , I'm really sorry . My name is Y/n Pevensie and I'm a Queen of Narnia , The King Just's Wife ."

Edmund smiled a bit (and maybe , according to my eyes , he even blushed ?) at me and spoke "Come on , y/n . Tell me about you , I've heard a lot about you from your people but it'll be better to know it from you "

"Your wish is my command" I laughed with him and began telling him about me , without realising how easily we both conversed .

Time skip

Edmund's POV

"Really ?!" Y/n let out a snort when she heard how I defeated Peter so badly in chess

"Yeah , and then Peter gave me his classic look.." I made Peter's face , earning another beautiful laugh from her .

"Oh my god , you all are so fun and amazing to be with ! Just like a real family would be !" She remarked , but I couldn't quite understand what she said .

"I didn't get it " I spoke up .

"Oh , what I mean is , that you all are a family , right ? But in many kingdoms , family is full of wrath and jealousy . I haven't ever met a family like yours . It's really such a fun to hear your stories . I like it when you don't have to be king , I like it when you are Edmund , just Edmund " she spoke .

"I'm glad you liked my stories !" I exclaimed , deciding not to comment on the last part of her sentence .

"So , you're really good at chess and horse riding , huh?" She questioned .

I cockily replied "I'm good at other things too , but since you highlighted these , yeah I'm good at them !"

"and has anybody managed to defeat you ?" She questioned

"Not a soul !" I answered back , smirking .

"Then , King Edmund , I'd request you to be prepared for your very first defeat in the above stated fields .." y/n replied , a playful smile stretched on her face

"Oh really ?" I question playfully

"Yes , really .." she smiled at me childishly

"And who's gonna do that?"

"Me , your beloved wife !" She exclaimed proudly

I smiled at her , and she smiled back , but our eyes could shake off from each other . A silence encircled us as our eyes refused to leave each other's . Involuntarily , my eyes shifted from her eyes to her lips , and back to her eyes . The classic move before kissing .

And she leaned in . But the twinkle in her eye told me something was off . As soon as I began leaning in and we were close , she got up and ran towards Dorcas .

Mounting her horse , she yelled "The first one to reach the castle , wins the race !!"

I got up and ran towards my horse , even though we didn't kiss , my heart was hammering in my heart and blood was rushing furiously throughout my body . I , soon reached Philip and we raced towards the castle .

Time skip

Third person POV

"Haha , Edmund , you loose !!" Y/n teased Edmund as she waited on her horse while Edmund made his way to her ."I didn't expect you to be fooled so easily !" Y/n laughed as she dismounted Dorcas and patted her .

"Hey ! I'd rather blame it on your beauty ... It hypnotised me .. as it does everytime !" He clearly flirted . Like , yeah he did. Edmund's heartbeat had escalated to an alarming level as soon as he flirted . But.. y/n couldn't stop her blush . The positive response from y/n made edmund's heart swell with happiness . Tucking some hair behind her ear , she slowly made my way away from her horse and towards the castle , Edmund following her behind .

Let's say that the evening continued with the same romantic spirit as young love blossomed . But as known , nothing lasts forever . Unaware of the upcoming trouble , the couple happily strolled into the castle .

°°

Stay tuned for next parts !

You can check out other parts here !

#edmund pevensie x y/n #king edmund the just #edmund pevensie x reader #king edmund #edmund pevensie #narnia fic #narnia fandom #narnia #the chronicles of narnia

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mommy-imagines · 3 years

Text

Pretty Boy - part. 5

Content: Mommy Kink. Sugar Mommy. MILF. Age-Play. Headspace. Diapers. Heavy Fluff.

Words: 3.717

“Mommy, gifts?” Atsumu asked her, voice excited and carrying laughter, “Mommy! Wake up, it’s Christmas!” She felt a gentle finger poking her cheek and slowly opened her eyes, immediately coming face to face with Atsumu’s bright eyes, much too alert for - She chanced a look at her phone, god! Much too alert for seven thirty in the morning.

“Baby, it’s very early, why are you up already?” She asked him, voice carrying sleepiness, arms encircling him and pulling him down and under the covers once more, he pouted at her and it made her laugh.

“Mommy, it’s Christmas, we can’t sleep in! What if Santa came?” He asked her very seriously, her eyes widened at his words and she took a moment to study him. His eyes were bright, alight with childish glee. He had clearly slipped much farther into his headspace than ever before. It made her happy to note it and it couldn’t have happened at a better time.

The previous night they had hosted Christmas Eve dinner for Atsumu’s family, so that was how she had met Atsumu’s mother and his grandmother and, thankfully, they had all gotten along splendidly and by the time that the evening was over, Atsumu was practically glowing. Both from happiness and from the single glass of wine that he had consumed. He hadn’t had anything alcoholic to drink ever since they had gotten together, but she figured that being Christmas and all, she could allow him to indulge a little bit; And she didn’t miss the surprised look that crossed his face once he realized her permission nor did she miss the small grimace that he tried very hard to hide every time that he took a sip.

She had to make a valiant effort to contain her amused laughter, it would appear that her baby was not used to those kind of drinks anymore; By the time that they were done with supper and dessert, his glass was still half full and he claimed to had eaten too much and thus couldn’t stomach anything else when Osamu questioned him about it. Well, Mommy wasn’t complaining. As far as she was concerned, it was better that way.

She blinked back to the present. Atsumu had busied himself by quietly talking to Toulouse and was largely ignoring the rest of the world. With his hair pointing at every direction, his flushed cheeks, and the telltale bulge between his legs, the flaps of his diaper peeking through the hem of his pajamas, he looked like the perfect little boy. It made her smile fondly at him.

He had no practice at all until the third week of January, more than enough time for him to enjoy his headspace for as long as he wanted to, she was curious to see how long it would last for.

Her thoughts strayed back to the nicely wrapped gifts downstairs, all but one waiting underneath the Christmas tree. She could barely wait to see his expression as he received it.

For the past three weeks, all that Atsumu could talk about was of how lonely Toulouse would get whenever Atsumu wasn’t home to keep him company and how much Toulouse would complain to Atsumu every night about being left on his own during the “whole entire day, Mommy!”.

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Her baby complained, looking up at her with large hazel eyes and a cute little pout.

“You are?” She gasped, “Why, baby! Mommy is hungry too! How could you tell?” She exaggerated and he giggled in response. Her heart grew three sizes at the sound.

“It’s ‘cause I’m magic!” He proudly informed her and she gasped dramatically.

“No!” She suddenly lowered her voice, leaning forward, closer to his face, as one would do to share a secret, “What kind of magic, baby?”

“Like Aslan, Mommy!” Was the response and her expression was so fond that she was afraid that her face would be forever stuck that way.

They had watched all of the Chronicles of Narnia movies and Atsumu had been obsessed with Aslan from day one, saying how much of a good friend he would be to Toulouse. Now that she stopped to think about it, her baby definitely had a thing for felines. “Well baby, in that case, I can not possibly allow someone so powerful to go through the day without a nice, yummy breakfast, can I?” She tickled his tummy and he giggled.

Atsumu’s eyes turned mischievous, “What kind of breakfast, Mommy? ‘Cause it’s Christmas and I’m strong like Aslan, so it has to be a very special breakfast.” His voice was very serious and she played the part, pretending to be thinking it over.

“Well, how about some special pancakes then?” She looked at him as if proposing a business deal, “With chocolate chips and lots of strawberries?”

Atsumu seemed to be considering her offer before nodding solemnly, “Okay, Mommy;” He said, then his expression turned shy and his cheeks pinkened, he leaned his head up a little bit until his mouth was hovering over her ear, “Mommy, I had an accident.” He whispered and she hugged him tightly, pressing a big kiss to his cheek that made him giggle happily.

“Well, Mommy will change you right up, then we can brush our teeth and go downstairs so Mommy can make us some breakfast,”

“Can we stay in our jammies, Mommy?” He asked, looking up at her, eyes full of innocence.

She surprised herself with how easily she told him yes. Before Atsumu, she would never even consider the idea of going about her day, even if just staying at home, without being properly dressed. She supposed that it couldn’t hurt, they weren’t meeting anyone for the entire day, in fact, there had been a huge blizzard, so all roads were closed. “Of course we can, little one; It’s Christmas, after all,”

So Mommy got up, groaned playfully as she stood, dragging a gleeful giggle from Atsumu; “Lay back down, baby; So Mommy can change you,” She told him with an amused smile when he stood on his knees, crawling to the end of the bed, “What are you doing, little one?” She asked him with a gentle laugh when he surged forward and wrapped his arms around her middle, “What is it, baby?” She asked, hand cupping the back of his neck and cheek pressed against the top of his messy hair.

“Love you, Mommy,” He said, voice full of innocence, as he looked up at her; She felt her eyes prickling with tears, was surprised to feel it, too; She couldn’t remember the last time that she had felt so at peace. Being on the receiving end of such an intense stare, it tugged at her heartstrings. She smiled down at him and pecked his nose, he wrinkled it as a response and she chuckled at him.

“Mommy loves you too, baby;” She finally responded.

They stayed like that for a couple of moments until Atsumu started to wriggle, complaining about his wet diaper, so she arranged him on the bed and changed him, tickling his tummy to make him laugh when he whined at the cold wipes. Once he was properly dressed again, she guided him to the adjoined bathroom so that they both could brush their teeth and then was guiding him out of the room, “Mommy, wait!” He suddenly stopped by the doorway, eyes wide and looking around frantically, she didn’t have the time to become worried, because then he was running back to the bed, searching the covers and walking back to her side with Toulouse firmly held close to his chest.

“All set, darling?” She asked, a smile as fond as it always was when it came to Atsumu. He nodded at her solemnly.

“I’ve told you, Mommy; Toulouse gets lonely when he’s not with me,”

“Well then, baby;” She ruffled his hair and picked his hand, intertwining their fingers and guiding him along the hallway and down the stairs, “Mommy will just have to figure out a way so Toulouse will have a friend, don’t you think?”

Atsumu hummed, as if considering her words very seriously, walking down the steps carefully, one hand firmly held by Mommy and the other holding his friend, “I think so, Mommy; I don’t like it when he’s sad,” He pouted and she couldn’t resist pinching his cheek and pressing a kiss to it.

They got to the main kitchen and Atsumu promptly sat down on one of the stools by the marble island while she brought out the ingredients.

She kept one eye on him at all times, but mostly left him be; As she mixed the batter and cut the strawberries, Atsumu was in his own little world, he had placed Toulouse on top of the island, in front of him, and was telling him a very detailed story about his last horseback riding lesson, something about how much he liked Leia, because the mare never moved fast enough to scare him and how she always let him feed her, “Alright, little one; Why don’t we sit Toulouse on his own stool so we can eat breakfast? We can eat it here, I think; No need to move everything to the breakfast room.”

“Okay, Mommy!” Atsumu told her easily, smiled as bright as the sun, and carefully placed the stuffed jackal on the stool next to him.

She cut his pancakes in small squares and placed a small bowl with strawberries beside the plate. It was the first time that Atsumu had gone so deep in his headspace, the other times were always right before bedtime, mostly when he was nursing after having a particularly long day; She wasn’t exactly sure about how young he felt, but she surmised that it would be changing during the day.

As she sat down in front of him, nursing her cup of coffee, she watched as he picked the squares with the tip of his long fingers, carefully selecting the ones that had the most chocolate chips to it., “Baby, slow down a bit, your food is not going to run away,” She reprimanded him softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“I’m sorry, Mommy;” He said, suddenly sheepish, but he was smiling as well, “I’m just excited for the gifts!” He told her, eyes bright but face almost bashful.

“Well, baby,” She started, picking up a cloth napkin and wetting the corner of it and then leaning forward to wipe his chin and the corners of his mouth, “Your gifts aren’t going away either, so there’s no reason to rush, Mommy doesn’t want her baby to choke,”

Atsumu nodded sweetly at her and then his movements turned deliberately slow as he picked the next piece of pancake and she had to stifle a laugh when he missed his mouth, much too busy with telling Toulouse why was it that they were talking about gifts and explaining that today was Christmas day.

They finished breakfast soon after and she was pretty sure that Atsumu had gotten more chocolate sauce on his cheeks and his chin than inside of his mouth, the boy whining and struggling to sit still as she wiped his face and his hands clean.

Once they were done, with the dirty dishes already inside the dishwasher, she extended her hand so that he could grab it and hop down the stool. She grabbed her newly topped coffee cup and guided him to the main living room, where they had placed the biggest Christmas tree.

There was another tree on the entrance hall, delicately decorated with ornate glass baubles, but she liked this one better - If only because the two of them had decorated it together and she smiled fondly at the memory of that day (Atsumu had snuck up behind her and picked her up suddenly, telling her very seriously that Mommy should be the one to place the star).

She looked to the boy at her side and, sure enough, Atsumu was vibrating in place, eyes scanning the truly immense amount of nicely wrapped gifts underneath the Christmas tree. (She was very grateful for the high ceilings of her Estate, because when they went to pick the tree, Atsumu had decided that his favorite tree out of all of the others was a 50ft tree and, honestly, she could never say no to his pleading look, not when he was all bundled up and with his face all pink from the cold, eyes barely peeking through his winter hat.).

She started the fireplace and walked to the corner of the room, coming back with a blanket, which she folded in half and placed on the floor near the tree. The house was warm, thanks to the excellent heating system, and the marble floors were heated as well, but still, she was not allowing her baby to sit directly on the floor.

She sat down on an armchair by his side and pulled her silk robe tighter around her body, “Okay, baby;” She started, smiling down at him. Atsumu’s face was decorated with a bright smile, “Why don’t you start with this one then?” She handed him a rectangular gift with a big purple bow on top.

He nodded happily and reached for the box, she watched as he took his time to unwrap it, carefully undoing the bow and mindful as to not tear the wrapping. Her smile widened as she took in his slack-jawed expression as he saw the contents inside of the box, “Mommy! Thank you!” He jumped forward and gave her a hug, with just enough warning for her to place down her coffee cup on the nearby side table.

Atsumu had been too shy to ask for it, but she had overheard him talking to Bokuto about how cool he thought the new PS5 was, “You are very welcome, baby;” She told him, kissing the top of his blonde hair, “Why don’t you pick the next one?”

So it went, with each unwrapped gift, she found herself with an armful of 6’3’ smiling volleyball setter, she finally gave up on her coffee and just let it be forgotten by her side.

Atsumu gasped with every gift. By the end of it, the large living room was a mess of colorful wrapping and bows and a litany of gifts - the new PS5, a variety of games to go with it (nothing too violent, Atsumu had gone to a boys’ night at Sakusa’s with Bokuto, Osamu and Hinata and they had played something called Resident Evil, the poor boy had had nightmares for almost a month and still couldn’t sleep without a night light); a collection of Nike’s top of the line sneakers that hadn’t been launched yet, but that she had managed to buy because the CEO owed her a couple of favors; a limited edition Rolex; a new laptop and a new phone; some toys and some books.

“Mommy, thank you so much!” He told her, setting his new iPhone to the side and crawling until he was in front of her, he stood on his knees and started playing with her fingers, “Mommy, those were a lot of gifts, didn’t have to buy ‘Tsumu so many gifts,'' His voice was small and his eyes had dimmed a little bit.

That just wouldn’t do, “Baby, Mommy wants to buy you all of the nicest things in the world!” She told him, purposefully making her voice sound over the top so that he would smile at her again.

“But Mommy,” He started and she cut him off. Leaning forward and kissing his forehead, hand smoothing his hair back and away from his face.

“Baby, Mommy will always buy you pretty things, Mommy loves you very much and Mommy loves to spoil you,” She told him, eyes serious and he bit his lower lip, as if pondering her words, before giving a soft sigh and nodding slightly, “Now, little one;” She started once more, “Mommy wants you to sit right there,” She pointed to his previously occupied spot on the dark blue faux-fur blanket on the floor, “And Mommy wants you to close your eyes, no peeking!” She directed and he looked at her questionly before doing as told.

She gave a playful pinch to his padded bottom as he crawled away from her and he squeaked in response, making her laugh, “Mommy will be right back! Eyes closed, remember!”

She laughed at his attempt to contain his enthusiasm and walked out of the room and to her study, quickly retrieving the box that she had set aside and returning to her waiting boy, “Are your eyes closed, little one?”

“Yes, Mommy!” He giggled sweetly.

“Okay then!” She said, placing the large baby blue box in front of him and sitting down once more. “Alright baby, open up,” As soon as she had finished saying the words, his eyes were popping open and instantly zeroed on the box in front of him, he looked up at her in confusion, “Well baby, go on!” She instructed and he tentatively poked the large silver bow on top of the lid.

Atsumu suddenly gasped, “Mommy, it moved!” He looked up at her with wide eyes and she couldn’t contain her laughter at his astonished expression.

“Really?” She gasped right back, voice full of laughter, “Then you better see what’s inside, don’t you think?”

Atsumu bit his lower lip again and hesitantly lifted the lid, as soon as he did, he was gasping wetly and looking up at her with surprised eyes full of tears, his cheeks were flushed pink and his mouth was open slightly in surprise, “Mommy! Is this really for me?” He asked, voice cautiously joyful.

Her tone was gentle as she replied, “Of course it is, baby;”

Atsumu sniffed and then slowly reached his hands inside to pick up the small kitten that was peering up at him with curious eyes, “Pretty!” Atsumu mumbled, the small Ashera kitten almost disappearing where she was being held by his large hands, “Is it a boy or a girl, Mommy?”

“She’s a girl, darling, Mommy was feeling a little bit lonely with so many boys in the house!” She teased him, and Atsumu gave her a cheeky smile, Toulouse placed at his side, “You need to pick a name for her;”

Atsumu tilted his head, studying the small kitten and giggling with delight when she gave him a tiny meow, followed by a small purr as he scratched behind her ears, “I don’t know, Mommy; You choose!” He finally gave up.

“Me, baby?”

“Yes,” He nodded very seriously, “I got to pick Toulouse’s name, ‘cause we’re both boys, now you pick her name, ‘cause you’re both girls!” He rationalized and she indulged him with a fond grin.

“Okay, baby;” She nodded, “I guess that I’ve always liked the name Ophelia,” She said after thinking for a moment, “What do you think?”

Atsumu’s eyes lit up once more, “I love it, Mommy!” He declared and she laughed.

“I’m glad, baby! Mommy will ask the jeweler to put her name on a tag for her collar tomorrow, okay?”

He nodded happily and then promptly ignored her altogether in favor of introducing Ophelia to Toulouse, informing the small kitten that they would be best friends and that she could keep Toulouse company when he was away for practice.

She shook her head in fond amusement, took a sip of her coffee and immediately grimaced at the cold beverage.

/*/

“Are you getting tired, baby?” Mommy asked him once Atsumu yawned for the third time, his eyes were fixed to the TV where Winnie the Pooh was playing. They had just finished having lunch and were back in the main living room.

She had made quick work of discarding the wrapping and organizing Atsumu’s gifts in neat piles. She looked down at the boy resting against her, he looked on the verge of dozing off.

She supposed that he could have his nap in the living room; The sofa had been custom made to be on the larger side and Atsumu looked pretty cozy.

Outside the sky was gray, the blizzard had come back in full force, but Mommy and Atsumu were safe inside their warm home. She had dimmed the lights in the hopes of easing the little boy into a nap and it seemed to be working, the warmth of the fireplace helping her endeavour. While she had made a quick trip to the bedroom to change into proper clothes, she had allowed Atsumu to remain on his pajamas and the combination of messy hair with his flushed cheeks, light blue pacifier bobbing softly between his lips and the top of his recently changed diaper just peeking through over the hem of his pants, he looked absolutely precious. “Mommy,” Atsumu whispered, eyes dropping.

She looked down at him. Her baby had his head pillowed by her legs, Toulouse held closely to his own chest, socked feet tucked underneath him; She smiled softly and reached behind her for the plush faux fur white throw blanket that she had bought especially for her baby, she covered him with the blanket and smoothed his hair away from his face, “Yes, baby?”

Atsumu gave her a soft little sigh in response, giggled sleepily when Ophelia snuggled close to his chest, “Hi, kitty,” He whispered, words slurred from sleep and because of the soother between his lips, “Mommy, stay?” He asked her, drowsy eyes staring up at her with unadulterated trust.

One of his hands was clutching Toulouse and the other he had curled into a loose fist as he gripped her shirt, Ophelia nestled herself on the crook of his neck, “Of course, baby,” She answered him, fingers deftly carding through his soft hair, “Mommy will always stay;” She smiled gently at him, his eyes nearly closing, “You can go to sleep now, little one; Mommy’ll watch over you and Mommy will be right here when you wake up.”

Atsumu sighed softly again, his next words were barely comprehensible, “I know that, Mommy; Lov’you.” He slurred and, before she could answer him, he was already fast asleep.

“Mommy loves you, too.” She said, just in case.

#mommy.writes #atsumu miya #sub atsumu #atsumu imagines #md/lb #mommy kink #haikyuu!!#hq #hq atsumu

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permanentcrossfics · 4 years

Text

Intentional // h.s.

Gently, you hooked your fingers into the thin gold chains dangling around his neck. They were dim under the shadow of his chin and his eyes flickered down briefly as you slowly pulled the crosses out from underneath his t-shirt. You ran your fingers back and forth, moving the pendants along the chains as if they were on a zipline.

“Still looking, love?” he asked, voice slightly more strained. You nodded, extending your index finger to play with the chest hairs peeking out from his neckline.

Then, you stopped. Almost in tandem with your fist closing around the chains, Harry tipped his cap back before ducking down to kiss you. You swayed, senses overwhelmed -- his skin was under your nose, his mouth was over yours, his groan was in your ears, and his hands were slinking behind you, shielding your back as he pressed you into the shelving. Right then, he was the world. Everything and everyone outside of this aisle was muted and shunned into total darkness. Tentatively, you wrapped your hand tighter in his necklaces and tugged, and all but immediately he dug his fingers into your back without so much as taking a breath. You whimpered and, hand still tangled, you slid it up his neck. You’d just gotten your forearm around his neck when he pulled away.

“I--” He cleared his throat, eyes closed, and pulled his cap down by the brim before pushing it back up again. “Don’t think they really have what m’lookin’ for today,” he said.

Your heart sank, blood still pounding through your veins and head dizzy.

“I think-- f’we can maybe-- d’you wanna go home? Maybe?”

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Transitions were… tricky.

Before you and Harry had joined hands and taken the leap, you were convinced there was nothing worse than the agonizing tickle of did he or didn’t he, would you or wouldn’t you. There was nothing worse than your racing heart when he let his hand linger in more than friendly ways -- in the dip of your lower back, across your shoulder, anywhere he could get that wasn’t copping a feel. Nothing worse than resting your face in the crook of his neck, nose brushing his skin, and listening to him talk through his chest, voice somehow deeper that way. Nothing worse than watching his face fall when you said no, you couldn’t get dinner with him. Why? You had a dinner date with someone else.

Even now you remembered the pang of his confusion and how his easy smile had slipped from his face.

Not long after that he’d cornered you in his visibly nervous resolve. It ended with you perched on top of your kitchen counter, legs spread and him between them as you made out in sweet relief.

How’d you not known? How’d you not have any idea? You’d teased that you were blinded by your pining, but it was bad for him, too, he’d insisted. Awful wondering how to go about it without fucking up a friendship if friendship was all you wanted. All those times of trying to initiate a shift -- first with a slow drawl of, “Is this ok?” while dragging his thumb across the backs of your knuckles in more than the quick passes he’d done in the past. Then, the “All right?” he’d rumbled in your ear when he’d kept you in a hug longer than either of you usually did had you arching into him at the time. To his credit, he hadn’t laughed. If anything, he’d pulled you closer so all of you was stretched across all of him and he’d held on tight. He never let go if he could help it.

That was weeks ago -- three by now, give or take. Three weeks and the bliss of not dancing around suspicions or purposefully sidestepping signs was like a weight had been lifted from both your shoulders. Three weeks of staying in and coffees out and walking through the park after dark and in the rain because that was how privacy could be next to guaranteed. Three weeks, but no date.

“What’ve we been doing?” you’d asked when he’d made the observation over curry takeaway.

“Hanging out.” He shrugged. “Y’know? We haven’t--” sighing, shoulders slumping, he said, “I haven’t taken you anywhere, or….”

So, a date. A real date -- a first, devoid of the jitters and uncertainties that came with meeting someone new, but full of different ones. A date set with the intent of being a real date, not like anything else you’d do.

Just Harry. Just your friend, just your buddy, just someone who was no longer just anyone anymore. Harry, but your fingers shook and nearly spilled the contents of your purse when he rapped on your door.

“Coming!” you called, voice strained. Two twists of your lock later and your door was open. “Hey,” you said. Those off-white loafers he’d more than worn in, grey trousers, the cap stuffed over his hair, and the scooped neck of his tank top underneath his long wool coat assured you that you’d made the right choice with your outfit. His onceover of you was almost imperceptible -- another habit he’d sworn to you he was sure you’d noticed more than once despite himself, and one he’d thought secured him in your mind.

“Ready?” he asked and you nodded, stepping out and pulling the door closed behind you.

“Where--?”

Could you ask that? As friends you’d have badgered him, but as friends he’d have told you beforehand instead of omitting the plan.

He grinned, key fob in hand. “Thought we’d go somewhere we both like….”

“Which is?”

His eyes slid to you and his cheek dimpled deeper. “Maybe go listen to some music.”

***

The record shop was an institution. For all intents and purposes, it was a hole in the wall -- decades of cigarette smoke permeated the walls by at least three inches, and the thick floorboards were warped and creaked with even the slightest step. What the aisles lacked in width they made up for in height, with row after row of albums loaded onto shelving units that nearly touched the fluorescent lights in the ceiling. Some were wrapped in cellophane, but most were opened with handwritten pricemarks affixed to the front of them, colors distorted and worn from fingers and care throughout the years.

“This isn’t ‘hanging out’?” you asked quietly, scanning the shelves as you moved along them slowly.

“No,” came his answer from several steps behind you. “It’s something we like doing together.”

“Friends look at records,” you said. “Can you hand me that one?” you asked, pointing at a shelf that was just out of reach.

“Hmm?” Harry looked up from the back of a sleeve he was examining. “Oh, sure.”

“Thanks.” You took it from him and flipped it over. “Do you have this one?”

“I do,” he said. “It’s nice.”

“Why haven’t I ever heard you play it?”

Harry shrugged and you huffed. “You have everything, don’t you?” you said, putting it back. He smirked, but otherwise didn’t react, and you bit your lip, deflating, and averted your eyes. When he’d parked the car out front, you had felt a certain level of ease with the familiarity. Now, though, you felt like… Jesus, you hated admitting it because it made you sound needy, but you felt like you had to vye for his attention. You were his date, but music was his wife, his children, his wife’s children from her first marriage, and more wrapped up into one. At least before, you would sometimes catch each other’s eye in a way that felt forbidden or you’d trade stories and ideas -- anything to have an excuse to talk or get close.

You’d never had this problem as friends.

Your shoes thudded along the floor as you walked through the narrow aisles, the rounding corners and twisting through crates that were stacked one on top of the other -- rescued vinyls, CDs, 8-tracks, and cassette tapes that would’ve met some other end if they hadn’t been sheltered here. It was like stepping through the wardrobe into a musical Narnia where time was lost and you could move seamlessly across it -- decade to decade, month to month, day to day. Twisting your purse so it was behind you and out of your way, you started thumbing through albums, stopping suddenly and pulling one out when it caught your eye.

“What’ve y’got there?”

You jumped, throat closing, and nearly dropped the album on your foot. “Oh my God, Harry!” you whispered. He grinned widely, obnoxiously and obviously pleased he’d startled you, and if it wouldn’t break, you’d hit him with the record. “You absolute--”

“Dunno how you didn’t hear me,” he said. “Floors are--” He leaned back and forth, the squeaking almost musical.

“Stop that,” you said, turning away from him. You were reading the back when he slipped his hand around your waist, palm splayed over your hip.

“What’s that?” he repeated his previous question close to your ear. Wordlessly, you flipped it around and he hummed. “That’s a good one. Don’t have that, actually.”

“No?”

He shook his head and the ends of his hair brushed your ear. Your pulse quickened. Having him this close and letting him so casually step into your bubble of personal space and linger was still so new and unfamiliar. Even now, questions about whether it meant anything cropped up, tickling your brain -- surely this had to be an accident, not anything intentional. Surely he had to not even realize what he was doing. Surely none of this could mean anything.

Surely.

“D’you think you’re gonna get it?”

You inhaled quickly and cleared your throat, slipping it back onto the shelf. “I-- don’t know.” Your mouth was dry and you coughed delicately, but when you made to spin to slip by him, he got his hand on your other hip and held you in place.

“Where’re you going?”

Straightening up, something pulled behind your navel. Electric -- the word made you roll your eyes, but it was the only one you could describe the intensity of the charge you felt. Almost nose to nose, you could see every detail on his face. You’d seen them countless times before without a thought, but they were somehow more now. Every crease of his eyelids, every slight variation in the shade of his eyes, the patches of his facial hair that were thicker and darker than others, the freckle on his lip and the other on his chin and the way his throat bobbed, and--

“Just looking,” you whispered.

“Yeah?” Harry asked. “M’lookin’, too.”

The bell above the door clanged at the front of the shop. It was muted, distant, and voices were muffled. Next to no one ever came back here -- that’s why he liked this place. It was so deep, no one would ever find him. He could duck in, disappear, find a gem or three, and quietly leave without anyone being the wiser.

It was Narnia. Safe, surrounded by mentors of times gone by, with no one to interrupt.

“Still looking, love?” he asked, voice slightly more strained. You nodded, extending your index finger to play with the chest hairs peeking out from his neckline.

“I--” He cleared his throat, eyes closed, and pulled his cap down by the brim before pushing it back up again. “Don’t think they really have what m’lookin’ for today,” he said.

Your heart sank, blood still pounding through your veins and head dizzy.

“I think-- f’we can maybe-- d’you wanna go home? Maybe?”

Already? You’d only just gotten there, and you thought maybe for all his talk of a date, he’d….

Harry tilted his head, green eyes unblinking and imploring you to understand something. His cheeks were pink and he opened his mouth before closing it quickly with a mumble of, “M’mean… we don’t have to-- if you’re not, then I don’t….”

Oh.

“Sure,” you gasped. “Yeah.”

You’d no sooner gotten the words out than he’d unwound your hand from around his necklace to hold it in his and pull you with him back from Narnia to the front of the shop and into the real world.

***

The car ride was hell. Whatever tension had settled and relaxed on the way over had grown tenfold on the way back. You were pretty sure he broke at least three rules on the way that included saying, “No one ever comes down this road, anyway,” under his breath and flooring the gas in a way that had you gripping the door and seriously debating your answer when he asked if you were ok. But the click of his turn signal before he rolled into his driveway was like a ticking time bomb.

You were home. Your friend who was a bit more than friendly had invited you home with the clear and unmistakeable intention to have sex.

With him.

That was a little more different.

Harry turned the car off and twin pops of seatbelts unfastening followed in quick succession. Abandoning chivalry, he left you to your door in favor of racing to his front one to open it up and usher you both inside out of the light drizzle that’d started halfway there.

You were walking into his house to have sex with him.

It was warm and cozy inside. Decorated in all its eccentric ways, his home felt like it was still getting used to having him home more often. Your shoes scuffed and squeaked the hardwood and his loafers padded with purpose as he went around flicking lights on to brighten the rooms. His cap was gone, having carelessly tossed it somewhere on his way in, and he was shaking his coat off when you fumbled with your bag before dropping it on the sofa and kicking off your shoes.

Ready.

Set….

“I’m--”

Gonna go upstairs.

The rest of it, though, was lost when Harry spun you by the waist and you only just caught sight of his curls — disheveled from the hat he’d stuffed them under — before he reeled you in with a smashing kiss. Unrestrained, unrelenting, and unforgiving, he was off, and it was all you could do to cling to his shoulders for dear life as he backed you up in the practiced way someone who lived there and knew every quirk and oddity of his own house might. He was free to touch, and you were, too, and you did. You touched his back, his shoulders, his chest, his stomach, the zipper on his trousers, and his thighs with greedy hands that were learning as fast as they could. As in the shop, again he pulled away and grabbed your hand to lead you up the steps, and your knees quaked so badly you nearly fell down more than once on the way up.

You felt naughty. The same frantic energy of two teenagers trying to beat the clock after school before Mum came home to make dinner pricked you, and judging by the permanent smile pulling his mouth and carving smile lines deeper, he felt it, too. Hurry up, quick, before anyone caught on that you were going to have sex with your friend Harry.

“Everyone probably thinks we’ve already--”

His barking laugh cut you off -- a little wheezy, but it was deep from his belly, and infectious -- and you followed him, giggling, into his bedroom.

It smelled like him. It was the whiff you got when you hugged him, or, more recently, kissed him, but even more, and it was so concentrated it made you woozy. The bed was made, if haphazardly -- like he’d decided on it while getting dressed because he thought he should, but he hadn’t wanted to spend the time on doing it right -- and clothes were visible through half-open drawers and draped onto the stuffed armchair in the corner of his room.

“Did you clean?” you teased. He exhaled sharply and shook his head, but his mouth quirked at the corners and his cheeks were pink. Biting your lip, you squeezed his hand and he stepped closer.

“Is this ok?” he asked. Nodding, you tilted your head up slightly to meet his mouth. Less hurried and violent than the one downstairs, this kiss reached deep, stirring up nerves and butterflies. Each time he broke it, you chased him for more, and he smiled into it, pressing his warm hand on your cheek. “Gonna take your clothes off now,” he mumbled between several smacking kisses.

“Ok….”

Your clothes and his were gradually removed -- button by button, snap after snap, and zippers, too, slowly and with careful intent despite the rush you were both in. Discovering him and having him discover you was nothing short of exhilarating. Harry drew his hand over your bare shoulder with almost curious possessiveness before ducking down and sponging kisses up and down it that had your eyes fluttering shut and your head rolling back. He groaned in the back of his throat and his teeth scraped your skin when he bit you gently, pulling a gasp from you and you yourself back to consciousness.

Dazed and lips parted with each gulping breath, you stared at him. His hair was dark and twisted, pulled this way and that by your hands and his, and his chest rose and fell rapidly, the same crosses you’d tugged earlier glinting in the streaks of soft grey light peeking through his curtains. Even the most faded ink on his torso and arms seemed to pop bright and black on his skin, and without thinking, you pressed your palms to it, absorbing the warmth as you skated over him before doing as he had and leaning in to press a kiss to his shoulder.

How many times had you suppressed thoughts of kissing his skin? How many times more had you indulged in them feeling guilty and unsure, because he was your friend and things weren’t like that for either of you? How many times had you wondered when you’d get to do this since things had shifted? You kissed and pulled at the skin along his shoulders, chest, and arms, relishing his stuttered breaths, and you only paused when, glancing up, you caught the look on his face. With hooded eyes and a parted, bright red mouth, he looked like a man -- not a man who was your friend, but a man you wanted to rip into and who you wanted to rip into you. A man who could, and was perfectly capable of it, and who would without even having to be asked if you only said yes, please. It was feral, it was instinctual, and you clapped your hand behind his neck before smashing your mouth to his with a desperate whimper.

Harry turned you smoothly onto his bed and you squeaked when your back hit the mattress with a bounce and he went with you. You were covered by him from head to toe, and you ran your foot up his calf, hooking it around the back of his knee. “Ha--” muffled against his mouth, he groaned immediately.

“I know,” he said. “I know, I know….”

One bra strap and then the other snapped when he slipped them down your arms, but the sting barely made an impression when he let out a slow, hot breath against your chest and peppered kisses over the tops of your breast. Nose pressed to your skin, he took a deep breath, and the anxiety that had wound itself into tight little balls in you of unchecked energy gradually loosened and dissolved. He was nervous -- not enough to inhibit him, but enough to roll off him and onto you. You almost laughed. You’d been so focused on your own perspective, you’d lost sight of the fact that this was different for him, too.

His best friend was in his bed, nearly naked, and he was about to have sex with them.

“Is this ok?” you whispered over his head. Harry stopped and looked up at you.

“Is…?” He grinned, laughing, and shook his head. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s great.”

Simple and silly, that one word sent you soaring. Great -- you were great. This was great. Pushing his chest, you sat up when he rolled off you as you wordlessly reached behind to unhook your bra. You didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped automatically when you shimmied it down your arms, and you smirked in a way you hoped was half as coy as you’d tried to make it.

“Go,” you murmured, pushing his chest again.

“Ah,” Harry said, doing as you asked and falling back onto his elbows. “They like to be in charge, then?”

Heat crept up through you when you straddled his thighs. “Sometimes.” You slipped your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, noticing very briefly how soft his skin was against your knuckles before you pulled the elastic firmly. Harry lifted his hips so you could get them down, and just as his had, your eyes dropped despite yourself. Mostly hard, he rested against the crease of his thigh. Any number of adjectives ran through your head, and you only realized you were still looking, lost in thought, when you caught the cocky twist of his mouth.

“Go on, then,” he said quietly. Snorting, you rolled your eyes and fell forward, chest-to-chest with him, and he drew you up into a kiss. Smashed together, you stayed just like that, hands stroking, dipping, and exploring bare skin. You shivered when he slipped his hand into your underwear to knead your ass, and your wriggling made him grunt in a tortured way. “Condom’s in the drawer,” he mumbled. “Gonna… have to… wait… wait here.”

Harry gently eased you away by the waist before rolling across his bed and stood to open his bedside table. You dropped your head onto his pillow and watched him with a small smile. “Were you planning this?”

He tore a condom off the strip. “No. I mean….” Harry shrugged. “Had hope that… maybe eventually… y’know…” he said sheepishly. He looked at you as if gauging your reaction. “Is that…?”

Your smile widened and you held your arm out, inviting him back, and he let out a deep breath, taking it.

“Know how t’keep me on my toes,” he mumbled.

“Good,” you said just before kissing him, arm tight around his neck. He inhaled deeply and sheets rustled as you rolled in them, turning him onto his back and sending you with him. With your weight settled on top of him, you lay there comfortably, languidly kissing through soft, breathless moans. He, for his part, seemed content to let his hands wander the sides of your breasts, your back, your hips, over your ass, the crease along your thighs, and finally….

You stilled with a gasp when he slid the pads of his fingers over you -- up and down, up and down -- before he carefully parted you with just the tips. Gulping, you broke from his mouth and rested your forehead on his shoulder with a rattling breath, gripping his bicep and shifting to bring one of your knees up. Harry grunted and adjusted himself beneath you before pressing a kiss to your ear and sliding his fingers deeper. He curled them and your mouth fell open. Beneath you, he chuckled, but didn’t say a word as he pumped them in and out of you, each wet, slick stroke somehow louder than the last. God, could he hear that? Of course he could.

“Come on,” he whispered, gradually slowing his fingers. He pulled them out and drew them up your skin, leaving a sticky trail behind. “Come….” The wrapper crinkled when you tore into it, and he pinched the top while you smoothed the condom down to his base. Hands braced on his chest, you held your breath as you settled over him.

“Breathe,” he warned, jaw tight and eyes flickering between your face and where you were above him. “Breathe, yeah? Just--”

“I’m ok,” you assured him, drawing his head between your legs, sliding it until you found your entrance. “I’m….” You trailed off into a sigh when you opened around his head, and, swallowing hard, you eased down, down, down onto him until you were nearly seated on his thighs. “Oh my God,” you moaned under your breath.

“Breathe,” Harry said again. Eyes closed, you did as he said, taking slow, deep breaths in and out. He was… this was a stretch. Not painfully so, but one regardless. You pulsed, grimacing immediately, before rocking on top of him. There -- that wasn’t so bad. Not at all, even, that was good. Hands still on his chest, you braced yourself and pushed back and forth, slowly at first and then with more certainty. Beneath you, Harry grunted and clapped his hands over your hips as if caught off guard. “Shit,” he breathed.

Eyes stamped shut, he tilted his head back, drilling it into his pillow, and you marveled at the long column of his neck. You watched his throat bob several times and you followed the path up to his sharp jawline, his tight mouth, to where his nose was flaring harshly. He laughed breathlessly and opened his eyes, but there was an unfocused gleam to them. “Y-y’killin’... killin’ me,” he stuttered. “You….”

He trailed off when you hooked your fingertips into his chains again and tugged. His chin doubled when he lifted his head and when he locked eyes with you, you grinned impishly before easing down onto him. Clapping a firm hold on your ass, he brought you down hard and you groaned abruptly. That was deep -- that was in your belly -- and your face screwed up when he did it again and again, thrusting his hips sharply against yours.

“Oh my-- Harry-- fuck!”

The bands of his rings, warm from his body heat, pinched your skin when he tightened his hold. He practically shook beneath you with the effort he was using, every breath labored, but suddenly, he stopped. Before you could so much as whisper, the world spun around you and you were on your back, empty.

“Shit!” Harry spluttered, pushing his fingers through his now damp hair. It fell right back in front of his forehead and you let out a wheezy stream of giggles. “That-- that was not supposed to be that….”

You laughed louder and he kissed your jaw, grinning against it while kneading one of your breasts, thumb rolling back and forth over your nipple. Eyes closing, you sighed breathily when he ducked down and sucked with a low, reverent groan and incomprehensible mumbles. When he stretched out above you again to push in, you wrapped both your arms around his back as yours arched with a quiet moan.

“God, this feels good,” you said, candid and unprompted, sinking into the feeling as he sank into you.

“Feels amazing,” he said. “Feels so fucking….” Grunting, he shuddered and dropped nearly all his weight on top of you. “Bring your legs up,” he said. “Bring your legs--” You complied, locking your ankles just above his ass, thighs spread wide. “Good, good girl.”

“You like to… to be the boss?” you teased, echoing his earlier jab.

He thrust sharply, punching a shout from you.

“Yes.”

Again and again he drove into you, and it was all you could do to grab onto him. He’d been holding back! He’d been holding way back! You hiccuped a breath and pressed your mouth to his shoulder, face twisted as you grappled his back with shaking fingers. This was good sex -- this was the type of sex that elevated you and made your toes shake and curl while you gasped for breath. The type of sex where you were going and going until you lost your breath right on the edge and you had to pause and feel the tickles of an orgasm slip away because it was that or pass out cold. This was sex you kissed and bit your way through and would leave you sore from your scalp down through the balls of your feet. It was roll over, lift like this, deeper, there? There sex. This sex was….

You weren’t sure at first because it felt fast, but it was confirmed with the first contraction deep in your abdomen. “Oh my God,” you moaned in disbelief. One of your hands slipped against his back and he hissed, faltering for just a moment as you uttered a pitchy, “Sorry… sorry!” while finding your hold both in his firm upper back and the softer muscle close to his hips.

“Close?” he ground out, voice muffled, and you nodded against his shoulder, turning your face into his sweaty neck. The smell of cologne and sweat was strong, almost dizzyingly so, and each new contraction brought on by his pelvis grinding against yours made it worse.

Swallowing, mouth dry, you whispered, “I’m think I’m gonna cum,” in an almost confessional tone. “I think--”

“Ok!” he said under his breath. “Ok-- oh, shit….” He moaned, a long, loud, drawn out sound and his hips faltered. ‘Wait! Wait, fuck!” Breathless and keening he thrust roughly, like he was trying to beat a clock only he could hear, breathing raggedly under your ear. Panting, you locked your arms and legs around him. You’d never been particularly loud -- years of necessity had built a habit -- but you could hear yourself now, calling out things that didn’t even make sense, writhing underneath him like you were out of your mind. It was almost pornographic, and you almost laughed, but it got caught in your throat when your cunt pulsed and your whole body tightened.

“Oh, Harry, oh, God!”

Harry smashed a stubbly kiss to the corner of your mouth, and his chin hit yours so hard it hurt. Your eye watered, whether from pain or the intensity of him still grinding, but seconds later through sputtered pleases and increasingly frantic thrust, he groaned so deeply you felt it in you. You went entirely still as he trembled, cock throbbing, and in the next minute he’d collapsed full weight on top of you. You sucked soft, wheezy breaths in as best you could, but your lungs were crushed in your chest with the pressure he was putting on them. Just as you were about to ask him to… maybe… please, Harry… move… he pushed up and off you to the side just enough to relieve you.

“Shit!” he rasped, face planted against your shoulder. “Shit.”

Yeah. Shit. Did you say it out loud? You couldn’t tell -- you couldn’t tell much of anything anymore. Everything was somehow pleasantly hot and numb at the same time, and you were thirsty. Your head was ringing, too, and you couldn’t remember the last time sex had left you this finished. Totally and thoroughly finished.

You’d done it. You’d had sex with him, with intent, and it was incredible.

Harry slipped his hand around your bicep and squeezed, pressing kisses to your skin in silence. Your lips quirked, but any quip was half-formed, and each one died on your tongue. Gradually, your breathing settled and the roaring silence did, too. Outside, the clouds had passed, and raindrops clinging to the window panes were slowly drying up in the sun that’d deemed it safe enough to peek again. It was still early -- after the nerves, the jitters, the trip to the shop, dancing around each other, and flooring it back to his place, and the sex, there was still most of a day ahead of you.

With a final squeeze, Harry kissed the top of your breast before rolling away, bed creaking beneath him. Shaking his head, he stood, and picked his trousers off the floor before patting them down and taking out his phone.

“S’get summat t’eat,” he mumbled, voice thick, as he passed it over to you. “Lemme buy.” He gestured to himself vaguely. “Gonna go… and maybe pick up that record you didn’t know I had.”

He stumbled, waving you off when you giggled. Just the same as before -- lunch in the afternoon with albums spinning until you couldn’t stand to get up to change them again -- but with a few crucial differences that made it so much better.

#harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry x reader #harry imagine #harry fanfic #harry oneshot #harry one shot #reader insert fanfiction #reader insert fanfic #permanentcross #intentional #original writing

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queen-lucy-the-valiant · 3 years

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I’ve been meaning to write this for a weeks and I finally did so yay. This is a somewhat analysis of the symbolism of the planning scene in Prince Caspian. I’m going off movie verse here because they changed so much I feel it’s not completely accurate to apply book details to the movie, although there are a few references that I feel could still be accurate in the movie verse.

To begin, let us lay our scene. They’re in the stone table room, the narnias are in a circle around the room, encompassing Peter, Caspain, and the stone table, which holds both Lucy and Trumpkin. Both Peter and Caspain stand a little bit away from the stone table. While Edmund and Susan are there, they’re both a part of the circle, sitting on stones directly across from each other.

First off, their placement tells us a lot about their relationships with Aslan. Since the Stone Table is where Aslan died, it in some way represents him. At the very least it's an ancient object of religious significance and holds some kind of power, if only in the figurative sense. We know that in the book the Narnias hold the table in high regard and this is something that isn’t specifically touched on in the movie and there's no reason to change it, since that would diminish the importance of Aslan in the narnias' eyes. So that explains why the narnias are gathered on the tables. The smaller animals have climbed on other stones, presumably to put themselves on a more even playing ground with the humans and other creatures. So, as the highest, easily accessible stone in the room, the Stone Table would be a good choice for giving yourself more height. But if they do hold the table in that high of a regard or place some religious significance on it, then it would be basically blasphemous for them to sit on it when it was the place that the Lion died and rose again.

Moving on to the Pevensies and those that are also in the circle.

We’re shown a few times that Peter is having issues with his faith with Aslan during this trip to Narnia. First at the train station when he expresses his frustration at Aslan making them wait, and again when they first get the how and go into the room, when he says something like “I think we’re on our own this time.” So while there are practical reasons for Peter not being extremely close to or on the Stone Table, his standing a couple yards away from it does a good job at representing his distance from Aslan at this point in the movie. Later, when he’s contemplating his relationship with Aslan and wishing that he would give him proof, he’s sitting on the Stone Table, which up until that point, he hadn’t been near, let alone on.

We don’t get much of Edmunds relationship with Aslan in this movie. He believes Lucy at the gorge, but that has to do more with his faith in Lucy than his faith that Aslan will be there. With this in mind, it would make more sense for him to be sitting next to Lucy during the meeting. She is after all the youngest and he already knows that the others are going to be patronizing to some degree if she should choose to give her opinion. So why isn’t he? Well it probably has to do with the fact that the reason Aslan died on that table was because of him, it was meant to be him on the table that night and Aslan took his place. It probably brings those memories closer to the surface and could potentially be triggering for him, since I think we can all agree that he had PTSD from his time with the witch. There's also potentially some awe for Aslan mixed in there, and respect, he might feel like it would be disrespectful to Aslan's sacrifice for him if he were to treat the place where he died like a chair.

We also don’t get much of Susan's relationship with Aslan in this movie. Like Peter, she wishes she could see him as easily as Lucy does, but she also only believes in him when he does something, like she tells Lucy when they’re sleeping by the fire, where Lucy's like “you believe me” and Susan says “well we got across the gorge didn’t we” or something like that. We also know that Susan's relationship with Narnia and Aslan is strained. She’s practical, she probably assumes that this trip to Narnia is probably going to end once they’ve fixed the problem, she’s not wrong of course, but I think that of the four of them she’s the only one who's thought about it at this point, since Peter and Edmund are probably focuses on how they’re going to defeat the telmarines and Lucy is living in the moment and enjoying being home again. So I think that Susan not sitting by Lucy on or near the table signifies that she’s distant from Aslan.

Lucy is obvious, she’s sitting on the table because it’s the closest thing she has to Aslan at that moment and she has the most faith in Aslan.

Trumpkin is interesting to me because we know from the gorge scene that he doesn’t believe Aslan exists because he says “I’m not about to jump off a cliff after someone who doesn’t exist.” But before that, when they’re in the boat and Lucy says “how could Aslan have let this happen,” Trumpkin responds with “though he abandoned us when you lot left,” he partly sounds scornful, like how could you believe in a talking lion, but at the same time I think it indicates that he, on some level, believes in Aslan, even if it’s only to hate him. But even if he doesn’t believe in Aslan, based on the fact that he isn’t sitting next to Lucy on the table itself, but on one legs, I think that that indicates that he does have some respect for the significance of the table itself, and while he might not fully believe in Aslan, but this might indicate that he’s slowly moving towards believing in him.

We’re going to ignore Caspian because there is no reason for him to be on the table so yeah.

So where the characters are in relation to the table symbolizes their relationship to Aslan. That's the first layer of symbolism in this scene. The second is how much this scene represents and sets up the dynamics between our main six characters (the Pevensies, Caspain, and Trumpkin).

Starting with Peter and Caspian. This scene builds upon the tension that’s sort of set up when they first met, they don’t like each other. Peter probably thinks of Caspain and an immature kid who doesn’t know what he’s doing and Caspain probably thinks Peter is trying to take his place as leader of the narnias. Caspians only experience with kings is Miraz and Miraz is not a good example, he took the power and then he got rid of or tried to get rid of everyone that would get in the way of his keeping the power. Caspain probably thinks that Peter will do the same, since he doesn’t know any better. So he fights back against Peter and his ideas, which clearly annoys Peter, a) because he’s the high king and he's actually getting into that role again, plus he’s been dealing with not being listen to in England for the past year and he’s in Narnia now, he’s supposed to be listened to here but apparently not, and b) Caspain is the one that summoned him for help, he should be listening to him.

Moving on to Peter and Edmund. This scene shows that Edmund is on Peter's side and has his back. This is shown before, when he jumps into the fight at the train station. But this scene backs it up and establishes Edmund as someone whose opinion Peter respects, because he doesn’t just echo what Peter says, he backs it up by using a logical reason for why they shouldn’t stay in defense mode, while Peter just pointed out that the How is a tomb not a fortress.

Peter and Susan. They’re fighting, and Susan is mad at Peter for some reason. This isn’t the first time this has come up in the movie, first it happened at the train station when Peter was going into a fight and then it happened again at the gorge when Peter appeared to take them out of the way. But this scene does indicate how serious it is, because she sides with Caspain over Peter and that is Not Good. Because they ruled together for 15 years, and they didn’t just rule together, they ruled together so well that the period when they ruled was known as the Golden Age. I’m not saying that they never disagreed on issues during that time, of course they did, but I doubt she ever did it in public and with someone she’d only known for less than a day. She shouldn’t trust Caspians opinion more than Peters, even if Caspain knows more about the current Narnia than Peter does, Peter definitely knows strategy better than Caspain, he definitely has more experience and Susan knows that.

Susan and Caspain. I can not express how much I hate the romance between Susan and Caspian in the movie, if you like it, that’s fine, it’s just really not my cup of tea and I think it’s a fairly useless addition to the story. That being said, this is the scene that establishes it. The movie makers use Susan taking Caspains side in this argument as a starting point for their later romance.

Finally Trumpkin and Lucy. I personally believe that Trumpkin sitting next to Lucy at the table is meant to indicate their friendship and such, because why else would he be there and that's really all I have to say about that.

And this isn’t part of the actual analysis because there's literally nothing concrete to back it up, but I like the idea of Lucy being someone whose opinion Peter values. I thought of this because of two particular points in the movie. The first being when they walk into the How for the first time and Lucy is the only pevensie on Peters right side and you know, right hand person and such. The second is that Lucy is the only other Pevensie actually in the circle during this scene, both Edmund and Susan are part of the circle and the only other people in the circle-besides Trumpkin and I’m ignoring him here-are Peter and Caspain, the two main leaders. So yeah there's that, do with it what you will

Thank you for reading this, I’m sorry if it’s long and complicated and possibly confusing with many run-on sentences, I’m reading Jane Austen right now and I tend to semi copy the writing style of whoever I’m reading at the moment.

@confessions-of-a-bookworm, @fandomblr, @czytling

#narnia #The Chronicles of Narnia #prince caspian #prince caspian movie #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #trumpkin #narnia meta #i suppose #also sorta #narnia headcanon #like at the very end #my writing #movie analysis #i guess

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queenlucythevaliant · 3 years

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Meeting Mr. Tollers (or, an autobiographical argument for meeting writers on their own terms)

The first time I read The Lord of the Rings, I didn’t like it at all.

I didn’t read anything by Tolkien until my junior year of high school, actually. Although my parents read to me every night in elementary school and I’ve been a voracious reader of heavy tomes ever since, I managed to avoid it largely because none of my family or friends were fans. (In fact, my dad listened to Fellowship on tape once, didn’t like any of the poetry, and got pretty mad when he reached the end of tape ten or so and realized there were two more books.)

I decided to read LOTR for two reasons: 1) a teacher joked that she would “take away my Nerd Card” if I didn’t and 2) I knew that Tolkien and Lewis were good friends. And given that I’ve had Once there were four children whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy emblazoned on my bones since first grade, that was a pretty big selling point.

Yet it was that second point that ruined my first experience with Tolkien. I mean, most of the major barriers to entry were non-issues for me. I liked the writing style. I didn’t have trouble with the names. I thought the poetry was hit-and-miss, but it didn’t certainly didn’t bother me. But LOTR wasn’t Narnia, and for that I faulted it.

I don’t mean that I wanted a lighter tone or anything like that. Rather, I went in expecting Aslan and got Gandalf. I liked Aragorn, but I kept trying to force him to be Peter. I wanted spiritual highs (“Tell me your sorrows” “Courage, dear heart”) and Biblical parallels (wait… is Gandalf supposed to be Jesus or not? What Biblical figure or idea does Gollum represent?) I picked through it with a fine-tooth comb as I read, and when I finished, I threw it aside thinking, what a disappointment.

But then I started college and made friends with several enormous Tolkien fans. “Have you read The Silmarillion?” they asked.

“I didn’t even particularly like LOTR,” I replied.

They asked me why. When I told them, they told me how much Tolkien hated allegory and encouraged me to try again.

So, with a fair bit of grumbling, I did. And suddenly, I loved it. I didn’t find Biblical parallels, but I found powerful themes of hope against despair that cut deep into my heart. I didn’t find Aslan, but I learned to appreciate Gandalf on his own terms, as a wise mentor and leader (I didn’t yet know the word Maia). There was no Shasta on the pass to Narnia, but there was Sam’s song in the tower. It was lovely. I talked about little else for weeks.

“Okay, now read The Silmarillion,” my friends said.

And guess what, folks, I somehow made exactly the same mistake. I like tragedies. I like epics. I love epic tragedies. I read lots of Russian lit, so the names still weren’t an issue. The Silm should have been right up my alley. And yet…

In my defense, The Silmarillion does rather invite more spiritual scrutiny. One can’t help but compare Eru Illuvatar to God, oaths to covenants, Arda marred to the curse of sin on the earth.

I went back to my friends and told them I hated it. It bothered me that Mandos explicitly told the Noldor that no echo of their lamentation would reach the Valar. I really didn’t like it that Eru seemed to be holding the Feanorians to their oath (here there was a lengthy comparison to Jephthah’s oath in Judges which I won’t recount). The Valar read as waaaay too polytheistic. On and on.

One of my friends pointed me to a podcast episode that discussed Tolkien’s concept of eucatastrophe. Huh, I thought. I can work with this…

I listened to a whole series of podcast episodes on The Silmarillion (The Prancing Pony Podcast on Spotify, if anyone’s interested.) I had some long conversations with my friends. Read “On Fairy Stories.” Read a handful of Tolkien’s letters. Read the Athrabeth. Then, finally, I went back and re-read The Silmarillion. I could absolutely see the Christian influences, but I wasn’t expecting parallels.

And guess what! I loved it!

I share this because I suspect, based on some of the posts that float around comparing the two, that a lot of people read Lewis expecting Tolkien. They compare The Magician’s Nephew unfavorably to Ainulindale. They make jokes about the Narnia’s fairy-tale mosaic style of worldbuilding and particularly about how much Tolkien hated the inclusion of Father Christmas. Guys. They’re different writers.

Narnia is an explicitly Christian fairytale. Lewis world-builds by pulling together strands of various mythologies and different literary genres and traditions. Homer, Shakespeare, Edith Nesbit, Irish immrama, Arthuriana. He makes specific statements about God, faith, and theology that work both in- and out of universe. He is instructive, occasionally didactic, always entertaining. He emphasizes the spiritual journeys of his characters and particularly their relationships with Aslan.

The Tolkien Legendarium is an intricately crafted mythos centered around Tolkien’s own philosophy, particularly his philosophy of history, and his scholarly interests. Geography, poetry, and particularly language are all of immense significance. Important are themes of lamentation as the world gradually decays and greater ages give way to lesser ones. Hope. Eucatastrophe, and the promise of eventual renewal. Meditations on life, death, and mortality. Tolkien’s faith deeply informs all of this, but isn’t the primary focus, nor even the theology of his subcreated world.

It’s easy to conflate the two. Together they are fathers of the modern fantasy genre, to say nothing of the fact that they were besties™. It’s only natural that familiarity bias causes us to approach one through the lens of the other. But they are very different writers. They write from very similar starting points, with similar values in common, but their works deserve to be approached on their own terms.

We owe it to Jack and to Tollers.

#jack #tollers #narnia #tolkien legendarium #pontifications and creations #wow this got long #*shrug*

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finiteuniverse13 · 3 years

Text

Bravo's Banned List

With the help of @bravo-four-seal-team, @@jayhalsteadfan-2417 and @rebelwrites, we made a list.

A list, posted on various walls throughout the Naval base, the plane and the cage room. About 1/3 of it is typed up, the rest is in hastily written pen. Made by Blackburn to try and corral Bravo. It's doing its best.

Tag: @rebelwrites @chibsytelford @bravo-four-seal-team @velvetcardiganbucky @supervalcsi @abby-splace @itsonautopilot @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @pinkrockstar19 @softi92 @mrsmarvelous1995 @jayhalsteadfan-2417

Just so you're all aware, this is a 6.5-page document.

0: On the days of Adam and Swanny’s Death, leave the group be to remember them. I will not protect you.

1: Brock Is Not Allowed Coffee. No exceptions.

1.1: Do not leave Metal alone with Brock when Coffee is around.

2: Dick jokes are not required in briefings

3: If a single one of you bastards get between me and my coffee, we will be having issues

5: You made the dog sad; you die.

8: DO NOT GIVE THEM NERF GUNS

9: WHO THE HELL GAVE THEM WATER GUNS

9.1: STICKS DO NOT GIVE THEM STICKS THEY WILL PRETEND THEY ARE GUNS

10: Dirt bikes (don’t ask)

11: ARCHERY IS A BIG NO

12: FISHING. WHY AM I BANNING FISHING

13: Fire. That is all

14: KNIVES. WHY ARE YOU GIVING THEM KNIVES?

15: LADDERS (NEVER AGAIN)

16: PLASTIC CUTLERY ONLY UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES GIVE THEM METAL CUTLERY

16.1: Scratch that, they stab people with the metal cutlery. Let them suffer the consequences of their actions. They can eat with their hands.

17: MEMES ARE NOT ALLOWED IN THE MEETING ROOM

18: Horse riding. (METAL IT IS NOT A TACTICAL DISMOUNT ITS CALLED FALLING AND GETTING A CONCUSSION)

19: BOY BANDS (not allowed to be played on the plane)

19.1: GIRL BANDS (for the love of god, they will try and imitate them)

19.2 RAP MUSIC (they think they are the next Eminem and will make your ears bleed)

20: Do not tell Jason he is not allowed to do something. He finds a way to do it

20.1: Apparently Ray will do the exact same without question

21: Do not leave any members of the team with upper brass. (How did you make an Admiral with years of combat CRY!)

22: Clay is under Jason’s protection don’t go after him they will not find your body

22.1: If Clay calls Jason dad just leave it ok

22.2: Actually, check on Jason, he’s been standing staring for the past hour now

23: Hairdryers are banned (HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET YOUR BEARD CAUGHT SONNY)

24: Only Trent is allowed to call Metal by his legal first name. Ensign Williams learnt that one the hard way.

25: Paintball is banned from the base the last time it was extreme and got violent

26: The transformers movies because clay tried to do a stunt it ended badly

27: Thumbtacks apparently

28: Any Marvel movie (Jason you’re not Captain America)

28.1: DC movies are out as well

28.2: Disney Princess movies as well (don’t ask)

30: Do not leave phone unlocked around Sonny, he will not hesitate to change everything

36: DO NOT LET THEM GET SO DRUNK THEY START SINGING. IF I HEAR IN THE NAVY ONE MORE TIME, I WON'T BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR MY ACTIONS

37: IF THERE IS SILENCE DROP EVERYTHING AND START HUNTING AND PANICKING

38: Grenade launchers are not required for every mission Trent

39: WHO GAVE METAL A SWORD

42: Yes, Clay does know an Admiral by name. Don't ask questions you don't want answers to.

45: If Clay starts angrily ranting in a foreign language, don't worry. He's thinking out loud, not plotting to destroy the base

45.1: If Clay is calmly talking in a foreign language just back away slowly

48: SpongeBob is a Bad Idea because they are way too Annoying and make References (I’m looking at you, Clay)

52: Sharpies. When I find whoever gave me this sharpie tattoo sleeve, there will be hell to pay

56: DO NOT LET CLAY HAVE A GRIMM REAPER OUTFIT! THIS IS THE THIRD TIME HES NEARLY GIVEN SONNY AND TRENT A HEART ATTACK AT 3 AM

57: Red paint. I went to check something at 3 am and Clay was painting a satanic ritual on the floor

58: 3 am checks are a bad idea. (I have seen things, people!)

62: Explosives are to be locked away when not on mission Sonny and Clay will try and play catch with a live homewrecker

62.1: I expected Metal as a Master Chief to know better - he falls under the same rule as Clay and Sonny.

63: Don't wake Clay when he is sleeping back away slowly and leave the room

64: If I'm sleeping, back away and leave the room. Interrupt me if they've broken a rule, or if the base is actively being bombed. If not, I don't care.

65: Have multiple phone chargers or they will disappear and you’re not getting them back

68: If you call Clay anything other than a nickname expect to get punched or stabbed or sniped in the ass when least expected

68.1: Metal will stab you. Please remember he has a shovel and lye in his truck (WHY DO YOU HAVE IT)

68.2: Don't try to take the shovel and lye off of Metal

69: NEVER say the number 69 around them they are all immature children and expect tongue in cheek comments

70: NEVER interrupt Sonny when he is eating breakfast, he is grumpy in the morning

72: If they are all asleep make no sound - YOU WAKE THEM THEY ARE YOUR PROBLEM NOT MINE

73: For the love of god, stop giving Clay earth mineral nicknames. This is the third time this week I've watched Sonny empty limestone dust from his pack

75: Do not give them hammers! What is wrong with you people?

79: Do Not talk to Trent unless it’s after 2 coffees

83: For the love of god, don't ask Metal if he ever did nude modelling in art school. He will begin stripping, literally anywhere

91: Cerberus is a good boy and you hurt Brock you die

98: Super Glue (never again)

99: MY COFFEE IS OFF LIMITS WHOEVER PUT SALT IN IT WILL PAY

100: Do not give in to their peer pressure while they are drunk, I will not be doing it again

100.1: WHY AM I HEARING IN THE NAVY AGAIN?!

100.2: Sweet Caroline won't work twice

100.3: WHY ARE YOU SINGING BARBIE

100.4: SONNY, CLAY IS NOT A BARBIE GIRL

103: Don't tell Sonny he looks good in pink because you better believe he will keep wearing it (and probably some girl clothes too) to keep getting compliments

114: I ALREADY WROTE SUPER GLUE WHY DO I NEED TO WRITE IT AGAIN

115: HAIR DYE (Why did you dye Metal and Trent’s hair pink?!)

115.1: Face paint (Sonny, their faces did not need to match their hair)

116: Do NOT touch Clay, Charlie team learnt that, and someone ended up nearly losing a finger. (And it wasn’t because of the dog)

117: If they offer you a drink whilst smirking DO NOT take it

118: Sea shanties – if I hear one more SEA SHANTY while we are FLYING

119: If you hear someone shout incoming, run, it’s not an attack, it is Bravo, someone has done something and they’re coming to tell me

120: Vegemite is not allowed in the base after Jason let Clay eat it

121: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (JASON I DONT CARE IF YOU THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY TO ACT LIKE LEO IT WAS A BAD MOVE)

122: Hawaii 5-0, if I hear one more thing about how we should hang people of the rook of buildings I am going to shoot someone

124: Mortal Kombat (Clay was acting like Scorpion for a month)

130: Itching Powder (looking at you Brock)

131: DO NOT TOUCH JASONS TOMATOES - you will get a bamboo cane jammed into your thigh

134: Capes - YOU ARE NOT SUPERMAN CLAY STOP PRETENDING YOU CAN FLY BY JUMPING OFF THE HOOCHES

134.1: Edna Mode said NO CAPES - I EXPECT NO CAPES WORN BY ANYONE ON MY TEAM

138: Laser Tag is fun until someone gets hurt (Sonny and Clay you know what happened)

138.1: Laser Tag! (Ray needed to go to the hospital guys, come on)

143: Basketball. My nose will never be straight again.

144: Bravo and Ice skates don’t mix (the only person good on them is Jason but no other member of Bravo is allowed on the ice again)

144.1: Same goes for rollerblades

145: Ash Spencer is not allowed to be alone with Clay (Jason punched him last time he was on base)

145.1: Do not leave Jason, Metal or Sonny alone with Ash Spenser, it’s going to end up with a murder charge.

146: Clay is Jason’s adopted kid and needs to be supervised when Jason is away

151: SLIME - FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DONT GIVE THEM SLIME

152: GLITTER WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE

153: SCISSORS - Jase cut a chunk of Clay’s hair in the night now the base is a war zone

153.1: DONT FUCK WITH COVERBOY'S HAIR see point 68 for consequences

154: NAIR (why do you even have it?)

156: Call Of Duty (Clay must be supervised when playing it)

157: Do Not leave Clay unattended with Metal (They are both recovering from the ONE CHIP/DEATH CHIP Challenge)

158: Marshmallows (don’t ask)

163: The Hunger Games (are not a good training exercise)

164: The Olympus Has Fallen movies are not allowed to be mentioned in any given time)

173: If you mention the word ice-cream just run, run for your life

176: If I am sleeping STOP THROWING PAPER AT ME

177: Yelling FOR NARNIA is not an appropriate battle cry

178: The Fast And Furious movies (Clay you are not Brian so stop)

182: Nap time is important if their asleep do something else but if you wake them run like hell

190: Any movies about WAR are BANNED (I need a drink to talk about that one)

200 (From Bravo): Blackburn isn't allowed any more paper

200.1 (From Bravo): or pens

200.2: (Blackburn) Handcuffs. They handcuffed me to my desk and wrote that

200.3 (Blackburn): Bravo will not be allowed to tell their Commanding Officer what to do

202: Who keeps giving them superglue? This is the 8th time we are having to unglue Sonny and Clay’s hands

203: Do not let any of them take point on Briefing EVER

205: Are you serious? Paperclips! Do not give them PAPERCLIPS

206: Leaving anyone unattended with fire is a bad idea - I can still smell burning

210: This is Sparta (Jason don't kick people off the roof)

210.1: JASON I SAID NO KICKING PEOPLE YOU DONT LIKE OFF THE ROOF

213: Ash Spenser is not allowed on base. DEVGRU heard about what kind of dad he is, and now its kill-on-sight

213.1: WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT ASH BEING ON BASE

214: Puppy dog eyes because Clay has been using them on anyone to get out of doing paperwork

215: RAY STOP DOING JASONS PAPERWORK

216: GO TO A HOSPITAL IF INJURED, TRENT HAS A LIFE OUTSIDE OF YOU LOT

217: THE GLEE CAST SOUNDTRACK IS NOT TO BE USED ON THE BASE

218: DO NOT PUT LION KING ON - they will cry like babies and there’s no consoling them over Mufasa

220: If I have to explain why BRAVO will not be joining teaching GREEN TEAM please see rule 1 and understand from that then ask the Green Team Instructor. (Brock terrified them by running the O Course in 30 minutes, all because someone gave him coffee)

220.1: And yes, that is the on the 50-minute-record O course. The time hasn’t been counted since it involved performance-enhancing substances

221: WHO THE HELL INTRODUCED THEM TO FROZEN

221.1 NO I DONT WANT TO BUILD A BLOODY SNOWMAN

221.2: WE WERE DEPLOYED TO SERBIA YOU BASTARDS

222: Gray’s anatomy (That is all)

227: VAPES - YOU DONT SMOKE AND ARE NOT PUFF THE MAGIC FUCKING DRAGON (clay I’m looking at you)

228: HATS ARE NOT ALLOWED IN BRIEFINGS (Sonny you know what you did)

229: MAGIC MIKE AND MAGIC MIKE XXL (still haunts my dreams)

233: I am begging you can you please BE NICE TO THE FLEET ADMIRAL (it's the 3rd time he's left in tears)

234: Chocolate - just run ok

235: Please stop re-enacting the screen from titanic when we are on a boat (I’m looking at you Brock)

235: PIZZA NIGHT IS A FREE FOR ALL AND IF YOU DONT WANT A BROKEN NOSE JUST BACK AWAY

236: Jokes. JOKES ARE BANNED - IF I NEED TO EXPLAIN WHY I WON'T BE HAPPY – NO ITS NOT FINE TO JOKE ABOUT THE FACT YOU HAVE BEEN STABBED CLAY

236.1: STAB WOUNDS ARE NOT ADDITIONAL POCKETS

237: Monopoly got violent last time and Jason got punched

237.1: In fact, any board games turn violent even snakes and ladders

237.2: Board games. Just please stop playing board games

240: Why am I revisiting the nerf guns people? IT WAS A FAMILY BARBECUE! (You lot need to learn to let your kids win!)

241: Brock is banned from Cooking - I do not want food poisoning again

244: WE DO NOT NEED A FLASH MOB EVERY TIME DONT STOP MOVING BY SCLUB 7 COMES ON

246: If they pass out around the fire pit for the love of god move them Clay and Sonny tend to like melting the sole of their boots on the flames even when passed out

251: Plastic cups only (this rule is to stop sonny from smashing them)

254: Why am I needing to revisit Sharpies? They aren’t allowed them, give them Crayola's or crayons

254.1: Scrap that YOU CAN’T EAT THE CRAYONS

256: Clay you are not Spiderman get off the walls

257: WHO GAVE COFFEE TO BROCK!!

257.1: THIS IS RULE ONE ON THE LIST WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

258: Don't mention Hawaii five 0 just don't

258.1: They will attempt the intro to it, it’s just painful

259: Don't mention Harry Potter because they will all cry over different characters deaths

287: Soup is now banned (Ray. I honestly thought you were the normal one of the team. I am disappointed)

321: If you see Clay and Sonny cuddling just walk away, pretend you didn’t see anything, one of them had a bad day and the other is the only one they will confine in

322: Don't mention the Philippines or India just don't

330: If Metal and Trent are talking, just leave them be. (No one wants to know if Metal is yelling about something stupid Trent did)

331: Popcorn is not allowed on base it ended up in everyone's gear

342: Non-Aerosol Deodorant. (Two of them tried to eat it before realising it wasn't edible)

344: Aerosol Deodorant. (Metal and Sonny used it with lighters. to create a flamethrower)

344.1: Side note LIGHTERS ARE BAD

345: Headphones. DO NOT ASK

346: Rubber bands are not slingshots

FINAL NOTE: FROM BRAVO - BLACKBURN LOVES US REALLY PLEASE IGNORE THE ABOVE LIST ITS ALL LIES

#seal team #eric blackburn #clay spenser #cerberus #pepper #brock reynolds #trent sawyer #sonny quinn #ray perry #jason hayes #fanfic #cross published on ao3 #we wrote this in maybe 2 hours #it probably shows #chaos #discord chaos #discord friends #discord nonsense

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docholligay · 3 years

Note

Please rant/rave (well, we already know which one it will be here) about Harry Potter!

GEE I HOPE THIS WAS WORTH WAITING FOR

OH MY GOD. The level of hatred I have for Harry Fucking Goddamn Potter, the culture around Harry Fucking Potter, extending its poisonous tentacles even to the concept of young adult fiction, fantasy, and the United Kingdom as a country and people.

When you being on this, you may think, “Oh, Doc will explain that Harry Potter sucks because JKR hates trans women” and I will say, oh no, dear reader, that is a fantastic reason to hate the author, and I really suggest we all continue to hate her, and perhaps not purchase the QUEEN’S TONNES of officially licensed merchandise and movies and theme parks that give her stupid little fucking hands all that cash, but no, that is not why I hate the work. There are a number of great works done by terrible people, and the further out the lens of history gets the truer this is.

I hate Harry Potter because it fucking sucks, and mentally stifled an entire fucking generation.

“Well, Doc, Harry Potter was really there for me when--” Oh my god I could not fucking care LESS about your personal emotion connection to “orphan wizard boy turns out to be a rich aristocrat yet somehow less woke than Cinderella though” I have personally emotional connections to hot fucking garbage pails of media properties, and if someone came barreling through talking about the myriad ways in which they were horrible, I would be like, “Oh, you aren’t fucking wrong, pal”

Harry Potter gained wild ass popularity in part due to its magnificent sorting system of Smart, Brave, Evil, and Other, because there’s nothing liberals like more than being able to put everyone’s personality into an easily labeled box, which is why astrology is so popular, or for the intellectuals, Myers-Briggs, which is just as fake but with the veneer of science. This allowed people to give into the tribalism they so desperately liked to pretend they did not possess, and also allow them to write thinkpieces about “The misunderstood Hufflepuff” or “Slytherins aren’t all bad!” or really anything that allows them to write a very real piece about their very imagined oppression for being a part of a totally fake house in a children’s book. Excellent use of your sociology degree, Kai, I thought the addition of phrases like, ‘Content of socialization” and “axes of oppression” really spoke to the struggles you face when wearing a green and silver scarf.

The other reason it became popular is that it’s essentially wallpaper paste formed into characters. I have read all of the books, and I could not tell you even remotely what Harry’s defining personality traits are other than “protagonist”. In American, at least, a large part of it was the fascination with all things British, with the idea of boarding school and prefects and uniforms that aren’t inexplicably chinos and polo shirts for nine year olds. It allowed children to project onto something so bland that it could be anything. And for children, THAT’S FINE. There is a great deal of bland media made for children, but what I’m speaking to is the fandom, which is largely well over the age of 18.

Because if we look at the books, are they...actually good? Was it good, or did I experience it as a child? I mean, honestly, on a literary level, are they, or was it just like we all watched Friends, we did it because everyone else was doing it, because I have a distinct memory of a series that involves such greats as “magical geegaws with poorly defined rules that are quickly forgotten despite being able to solve later problems quickly” or “Everyone loves Harry or is a bad guy, or secretly loved Harry all along”

Oh, speaking of, man, if this was an actual well-written book, wouldn’t it have been wild to have Snape’s whole thing be to teach us that sometimes people do good things for the wrong reasons? Instead of naming your fucking child after the guy who ‘protected you’ because he still wanted to bone your mom? “After all this time” “Always.”

While all this could have been explained, we have Quidditch added into the mix instead because 20 pages of the goddamn Puppy Bowl is exactly what I was looking for while I was waiting for JK to move the goddamn ball on literally any of these actual magical concepts.

Harry Potter is a fucking trust fund baby, star quarterback, who grows up to be a cop and marries his high school sweetheart. (Speaking of, why were we shocked that JKR turned out to be a piece of shit when this was and always has been the conclusion of Harry Potter? Why are liberals so fucking into this series that upholds structures like it ain’t no one’s business? It’s a series that opines that those beneath us “Muggles” should be kept in the dark from us) Literally, he finds out he is a wizard and has a dragon-guarded fucking VAULT OF CASH. At 11. It’s such a series for little tyrants, you are special from birth and need do nothing to prove it, here is a letter certifying as such. Oh, not only are you rich and the greatest seeker and have excellent quips, but also your parents were not only rebels, but the best of rebels, and so deeply involved that your parents were killed by the big bad personally, again, because you are so special. His mother’s love literally saves his ass over and over again, because he was SO SPECIAL. He fought Voldemort FROM THE BEGINNING, and WON. It’s literally the most privilege baby fantasy in the world.

“But Doooooooooooc, it’s for chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiildren”

A) Yeah, and you’re 32, you’re making my fucking point about Harry Potter setting an entire generation up for intellectual failure to launch.

B) Okay, and? I can think of a bunch of kids’ books off the top of my head that in no way require specialness to be given by birth so as to roll out the red carpet for master protagonist. The Hunger Games. Watership Down. A Series of Unfortunate Events. The Chronicles of FUCKING NARNIA, about which I have only a small handful of particularly kind things to say. I’ve never read Percy Jackson, but it’s my understanding that despite his being a literal demigod, the attitudes of the supporting cast are allowed to fall between the extremes of “Appreciates Percy” and “naughty or will learn” Harry does nothing to improve himself even after knowing that he is HUNTED BY THE BIG BAD! “I won’t do this because I don’t like Snape”. So There” which, again, if this series were written with the slightest bit of care or know-how, could be a humbling fucking plot point! BUT NO THAT WOULD BE NAUGHTY.

But the real reason I hate Harry Potter so much has everything to do with the fandom surrounding it, and how it intellectually stunted a generation of adults. The promise of Harry Potter was that it was supposed to make a new generation of readers, and so the popularity of them was pushed, and so there was discussion of teaching them in schools, but I tell you fucking what, I know a whole lot more folks who grew up reading Harry Potter that never advanced beyond reading YA, or even just rereading the entire series every year and that’s pretty much them done and dusted.

In the attempt to recapture whatever it was about Harry Potter that attracted children (A lot of it was your peers doing it. I read them all as they came out, and it was literally the equivalent of watching the game so you could talk at the water cooler. That was never going to be recaptured) people, who by this time were likely in their teens, kept getting recommended stuff at the same and same level. No one ever felt pushed to read things that are challenging, to read things that have some of the concepts or themes of Harry Potter but maybe complicate. I know FAR more adults who read adult books that aren’t into Harry Potter, even if they were as children, than the reverse.

But Doc, why is reading only books meant for 14 year olds a problem??? I mean I suppose I can’t convince you that comfort is not the job of literature or of life, it is the job of an easy chair, because Americans especially are decadent as fuck about being comfy cozy all the time and if anything causes them distress or pain it should be immediately avoided. But Maybe I can convince you that you’re fucking up these books for actual ass children who deserve to have their own writing section without adults bringing their fucking asses into it. They deserve their own spaces. There’s a number of YA editors who have talked about the difficult space YA now occupies because since Potter’s blowup, it’s no longer a niche category, but basically “adult easy reads” and so they have been buying books that are more about the tastes of adult buyers than of literal 14 year olds.

Is that not...sad? To anyone else? Honestly, and this is not part of the essay because it’s a broader reaching problem, but CHILDREN’S MEDIA IS NOT FOR US. CHILDREN’S MEDIA IS NOT FOR US. CHILDREN’S MEDIA IS FOR FUCKING CHILDREN. The fucking 40-23 set really needs to get their shit together and grow up a little bit and engage in some fucking adult media, and maybe, if we support what we’re actually looking for FOR ADULTS, it will come to us. No one is saying you can’t read Harry Potter or watch some Cartoon Network show, but like, search your heart and come the fuck on. Engage in something more complex. If not for yourselves, for the kids getting shoved into simplified adult stories. It should not be about us.

ANYWAY, my larger point is that it was Harry Potter, a badly written series about a magical boy who was chosen and magic and also rich and also a favorite of the headmaster and also more clever than most adults and also spoke the same magical snake language as the big bad and was also star quarterback, but at least there was a system in which you could buy a scarf in block colors and feel like you belonged to a team.

(But not a sports team! lol handegg! I’m cool I don’t get into sports! Except Quidditch.)

#TO say nothing of the fact that I haven't been able to wear gold and burgundy together without some dumbass comment for years #despite being a favored color combination #Anonymous #Eight Days 2020 #Holligay Rants and Raves #I didn't even GET to every point I had but it's been over an hour #GOD I HATE THIS FUCKING SERIES SO MUCH #Doc do you hate me for liking it?#oh sweet thing allow me to reassure you: Yes. Absolutely.#also the prose is god-awful #I've taught teenagers with better rpose

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mirkwoodest · 3 years

Text

The Magicians by Lev Grossman

The fantasy novels that weaponize childhood nostalgia to slowly drown you in uncomfortable truths.

That Narnia post is making me think about The Magicians series again. On one hand, I want to recommend them to everyone, but on the other hand, the very things that makes them excellent to some people makes them repulsive to others.

The underlying idea is that it uses the same general world-building outline of Narnia and Harry Potter, with all the comfort and nostalgia that they invoke, and then it twists them to reveal horrifying truths. The result is extremely unsettling, but eerily appropriate given how much both these worlds can’t offer us the same refuge that they did when we were children (Rowling’s bigotry being the major one here). The whole set-up is also designed to examine the process of reckoning with childhood trauma later in life: realizing that the safe spaces and coping mechanisms you created for yourself were only created because of nightmarish catalysts too terrible to speak of. You can see why that might be unreadable to some people and really resonate with others.

The Magicians also deals with other deeply uncomfortable realities through the veil of familiar “whimsical” fantasy mechanics. The narrator, Quentin, is deeply unlikable. You’ll probably see either the worst traits of yourself, or possibly an old ex-boyfriend or friend in him, and I guarantee you that it will be uncomfortable. Quentin repeatedly makes terrible errors, and you, the reader, are forced to stick with him through the aftermath. It’s all the more painful because you can’t just write him off as a bad person or a villain. He has good and heroic qualities as well. Generally though, he’s just a normal guy with toxic traits condemned to the fate of Living With Himself and the Consequences of His Actions. It hurts. And even though he inevitably learns and grows through these errors, even when he finds small measures of redemption, it’s never absolute. How horribly like real life, no? The unsettling feeling at the end of every book is that while change has occurred and the story has reached a stopping place, it isn’t a “happily ever after.” Instead, life will continue and it will be messy and the mistakes of the past will never fully go away. Not really. What’s broken can’t always be put back together.

By themselves, the uncomfortable realities of mistakes you can’t take back, having to accept that you might actually be kind of a shitty person, reckoning with a childhood we can’t return to, and suffering through the malaise of young adulthood aren’t revolutionary in a book series. It’s the fact that we’re seeing these things in a world where people can do literal, mind-blowing magic and travel to enchanted realms with talking animals and real gods you can have a conversation with, all the fluffiest fantasy trapping imaginable, that makes The Magicians stand out.

ANYWAY if that sounds like a terrible time to you, don’t read these books! But if it sounds like it would twist the knife in a good way, I highly recommend them. A lot of people go into them without understanding what they’re getting into. I’ve stumbled upon some scathing reviews about how the books rip-off Narnia and Harry Potter which is so silly because YES? That’s the point? It’s very specifically and literally taking these two hallmarks of childhood escapism and using them as a vehicle to explore adulthood dysfunction.

Some of you may have seen the TV adaptation. I’ve watched some of it myself, and while it seemed pretty good, the creators seemed to have gone to great lengths to make the whole thing a little less depressing and more satisfying. Not that that’s a bad thing at all, it’s just that I always thought that the deep depression was kind of the Point, you know?

#the magicians #fantasy #lev grossman #txt #OKAY no more wasting my meds on tumblr essays I have actual real world things to do :')

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goodvibesandmemes · 3 years

Text

CUTESY MEMES: Random Stuff Family & Friends ↳ Please feel free to tweak them etc.

SYMBOLS:

🥞 - For my muse to make yours waffles or pancakes. 🍜 - For my muse to make you some comfort food when they’re not well. 🍻 - For our muses to be out having a drink together. 🌠 - For our muses to watch a meteor shower. 🎶 - For our muses to go to a festival/concert together. 🧁 - For your muse to present mine with their favourite flavour of cupcake. 🛌🏼 - For your muse to be trying to make mine wake up. 🥇 - For your muse to come to mine, happy with an achievement of theirs. 🔮 - For our muses to play with a crystal ball. 🧣 - For your muse to give mine some handmade knitwear. 👗 - For your muse to show mine their new outfit. 🎿 - For our muses to go skiing. 🃏 - For our muses to play a card game. 🎣 - For our muses to go fishing. 🎬 - For our muses to watch a movie together. 🌳 - For our muses to go on a scenic walk.

SENTENCES:

“Are you sure you’re doing okay [ name ], you know you can always talk to me?” “I’m trying to see the screen! You’re in the way!” “You look great, you always look great.” “I’m just not sure it was very good, what do you think?” “I’m not sure I’m feeling very well.” “Yeah? Well I’m still sleepy so, I guess I’m just going to hibernate. See you in spring [ name / relation ].” “Did you remember to get those treats I like? You know the ones with [ description ]?” “Why is it that I can never find the remote and it always turns up in the weirdest places?” “I have no idea what you’re talking about I swear!” “[ name / relation ] I can trust you not to tell anyone if I tell you this right?” “I’m starting to think our house is haunted.” “I’ve been watching this show on Netflix, wanna join me? It’s got [ actor/actress ] in it and it’s this thing about [ bad or very vague description ].” “Oh my god, that was so embarrassing!” “Are you suggesting that it was me? I would never eat the last cookie. Never. Never ever ever.” “You’re amazing at this, don’t put yourself down.” “Why is there a concertina caterpillar on the wall?” “I’m sorry [ name ] I can’t hear you over [ name’s ] ridiculously fucking loud music.” “Nah I’m not into that any more, I like [ other thing ] now.” “Of course I need it [ name / relation ]. Pleeeease!” “[ she / he / they ] started it!” “What the hell happened to you, you look as if you’ve been dragged through Narnia backwards.” “What’s the wifi password? I forgot it again.” “Okay, that’s it, I’m making you a hot drink, you need it. What do you want?”

#ask meme #Ask memes #ask box #askmeme #cuteaskmeme

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euphoricdumpsterfire · 3 years

Text

It Was Enchanting To Meet You (Edmund Pevensie x Mutant!FemReader)

Chapter II: The Arrival of The Young Witch

Summary: Y/N ends up in Narnia and meets the kings and queens with one king catching her eye. She gets to know more about the new world she’s in and starts too see the things she’s seen in her dreams.

Masterlist

Warnings: being tied up

Word Count: 1270

A/N: I'm not sure about my upload schedule yet considering that I'll be going back to school next week. But hopefully, I'll be uploading 2 chapters every weekend. Hope you enjoy!

Deep in the forest of Narnia, a few young centaurs were galloping around and passing time. One of them stumbled upon an unconscious Y/N who laid by a tree. They then reported to the guards of Cair Paravel about the unconscious daughter of Eve.

Rumors immediately spread and everyone jumped into conclusions as to who she is and why she had suddenly appeared in the forest. The guards did not hesitate and immediately informed the four royals of Cair Paravel.

“The time has come...” The high king Peter said and the guards looked at each other confused.

Another guard came rushing into the room panting, “The human has awakened.”

“Then let’s go get her.” Peter said as he grabbed his sword and went out to the forest on his horse with the other guards leading the way. Once they arrived, Y/N sat there with her hands tied.

“You tied her up?!” Peter asked the guards.

“I-I wasn’t sure if she was an enemy sire.” The guard answered guiltily,

“Hey, uh...” Y/N spoke and all eyes turned to her, “I just wanted to say... I’m no enemy.” she said.

“How can we be sure of that?” Peter questioned,

“Well first, I have no idea where I’m at. And second, I just want to know where the old lady with the ice powers is so I can maybe ask her to stop haunting my dreams or something...” Y/N answered,

“Wait, you know about the white witch?”

“Not exactly. I just saw a vision and she mentioned something called Narnia, so I used my powers and now I’m here.” Y/N shot a tight lipped smile and the guards looked at her like she was insane.

“What’s your name again?” The king asked,

“It’s Y/N... Y/N Y/L/N.” She answered.

“Welcome to Narnia Y/N, I’m the high king, Peter.” He said as he helped her up and freed her from the constraint.

“Oh geez, thanks. Your guards tied it way too tight I thought I was gonna lose circulation.” Y/N said jokingly,

“My apologies ma’am.” The guard apologized with a shameful look on his face,

“Oh no it’s fine, I mean I get why you did it, it’s no sweat.” The guards looked at each other, bewildered by how the woman spoke.

“Why don’t we go to the castle and introduce you to my siblings. I believe you are someone of importance to Narnia and I will explain everything once we get there.” Peter said as he hopped on his horse and reached his hand out to Y/N to which she awkwardly grabbed and hopped on the horse as well.

Upon arriving at the castle, two women and another young man dressed in the finest of silks approached the incoming king and their new guest.

“Is that her?!” The younger girl exclaimed, very giddy to meet the guest.

“Everyone meet Y/N Y/L/N.” Peter said,

Y/N did a curtsy and said “Good day your highness...ses.” The awkward pause made the young man with dark hair chuckle catching Y/N’s attention but soon enough the younger girl approached her and greeted her with a big smile.

“I’ve been so excited to meet you! By the way I’m Lucy.” Y/N shook her hand

“Pleasure to meet you, your highness.” She said,

“Oh you don’t have to call me that, you can just call me Lucy!” Lucy said with a bright smile that Y/N mirrored. Another girl approached and introduced herself as Susan,

“It’s great to have another girl around here, we’ve finally outnumbered the men.” Susan teased,

“Hey I heard that!” The young man with dark hair said as he walked towards the group of girls who were already giggling.

“This is our brother, Edmund.” Susan said, Y/N looked at him and she froze. Even though she’s seen an abundance of magical creatures such as centaurs, pixies, and talking animals so far, the man that stood right before her was the most enchanting person she had ever laid her eyes on.

“Pleasure to meet you Y/N.” Edmund reached out for her hand and kissed it, Y/N’s face turned bright red and the two girls had a shocked expression plastered onto their faces. When his eyes met Y/N’s, he felt the same heart fluttering jolt that she did the moment she smiled at him.

“Edmund!” Lucy yelled out his name which made him snap out of trance, making the girls giggle once more. “Peter’s calling for you.” Lucy reminded him,

“Ugh what does he want now...” Edmund groaned and walked to where his brother stood.

Peter's smug expression caused Edmund to roll his eyes, "Pleasure to meet you Y/N" Peter mocked Edmund's line from earlier, earning him a punch in the gut.

"Shut up." Edmund says as he continued walking,

"Wrong way Ed!" Peter yelled, the three ladies giggled as Edmund scurried to Peter's side as they disappeared into a hallway.

“Y/N come with us, we’ll show you to your chamber and get you a change of clothes.” Susan interlocked her arm with Y/N's as they led her to a chamber complete with a huge canopy bed, large balcony, as well as a tall bookshelf.

"We have so many spare bedrooms, we're glad someone's going to occupy them now." Lucy said cheerfully. But the way she had said it made Y/N think about how long her stay will be in this magical world of Narnia. At some point she would have to go back to her own world because that's where her family and friends are. However, she set those thoughts aside and decided to go along with the present.

After changing into a deep maroon dress, Y/N went to the throne room where the other ladies had been waiting. "You look incredible Y/N!" Lucy exclaimed as the two sisters looked in awe at their newly found friend.

"Well thank you, for lending me this amazing dress," Y/N said as she tidied up the lower part of her dress,

"Of course Y/N, whatever you need, we're here to help out." Susan replied.

"Is everyone ready?" Peter appeared with Edmund beside him,

"Ready for what?" Lucy asked,

"To show our guest around Cair Paravel of course!" Peter said

– – – –

The five of them hopped onto a horse-drawn carriage that was also escorted by several guards. They went around the kingdom, the kings and queens greeted their subjects and they cheered them on. They've stopped by shops and had several conversations with shopkeepers. The four siblings are the most humble and most closest to their own subjects Y/N thought, and it was very heartwarming for her to see.

Y/N was completely mesmerized by the whole kingdom, it's as if the fairy tales she had read as a child had finally came true and she was there to witness it all. Edmund on the other hand was completely mesmerized by her. Peter secretly kept teasing his younger brother for staring at the girl for way too long that which the other sisters had noticed as well except for the oblivious Y/N.

Later on their trip, Lucy had requested to stop by Mr. Tumnus' cave and everyone agreed. Once they had arrived, Lucy hopped off of the carriage immediately and knocked on the faun's door. The rest stood behind Lucy and the door opened, revealing the faun whom Lucy had been telling stories about to Y/N.

Y/N's eyes widened as she exclaimed, "Professor X?!"

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thepremedthatwrites · 4 years

Note

Hello!! Can I request a Peter Pevensie imagine where the Pevensies are visiting the readers kingdom and Lucy wants the reader to show them the best thing to do at readers kingdom. So, the reader wakes them up in the middle of the night and takes them running around the town and her Peter have a bunch of fluffy moments?

Running Around

This was a lot of fun to write! I decided to use a kingdom in a book I’m working on just to add a sense of variety in the nations used in my writings, plus I feel it makes it a bit more interesting. Anyways, I hope you like it!

I paced back and forth, the overflowing greenery of the garden brushing the fabric of my dress. As I turned on my heels, I saw a dark hooded figure making their way to me. As it got closer, the outline of a small frame and feminine curves came into view. The figure removed its hood to reveal a mop of reddish-brown hair and sparkling eyes. “Are you ready?” I questioned, my voice echoing throughout the garden.

“What exactly are you planning?” the young Queen replied with.

“You said you wanted to see the best of my kingdom, did you not?’

“I suppose I assumed you would show me during the day.” I shook my head.

“The night is when Afodilia truly comes alive,” I said, smiling. “The moonlight rejuvenates the people, the cool night air waking up their instincts to live without regret.”

Lucy shifted her weight between her feet, the noise of crickets and the rustling of the plants filling the air. “Alright,” she finally said, the moonlight revealing a toothy grin. “I would like to ask you for one more thing before we leave.”

“Anything.”

“May my oldest brother join? He’s been so caught up in his paperwork and duties as High King this entire trip and I would like for him to relax and enjoy himself for once.” I paused for a moment. I had been infatuated with the High King since the moment he stepped foot into the castle. His charming good looks were almost negligible when I saw the way he cared for his nation. Watching him be willing to do anything for the safety and wellbeing of his people was admirable and (though I would never admit it out loud) attractive.

“Of course,” I said, already feeling my heart start to race at the idea of spending so much time with Peter.

“Great. You get Peter. I need to do some last-minute things before we leave. I’ll meet you at the front gates.” Before I could protest, she was already halfway to the door leading back to the castle. I let out a sigh before following her and heading down a long corridor that led to the sleeping King.

I was surprised when I heard someone mumble “come in” as I knocked on the door. It must have been somewhere near two in the morning, a time where most people were fast asleep. I gingerly opened the door, sticking my head in before my body followed it.

“Hello Your Majesty,” I said softly. His head snapped to me, his eyes tired and posture slumped over a desk.

“Princess (y/n). Is there something wrong?” he asked, shooting up from his chair.

“Oh no, everything is fine,” I replied, pausing as I thought how to word the next sentence. “Lucy wanted to see the kingdom.” Peter let out a soft chuckle, the mention of his youngest sibling causing him to relax and the sparkle to return to his eyes.

“Lucy always loves to learn the new culture of any kingdom we visit. I’m sure we can find someone to show her around.”

“Well, I actually volunteered to do so,” I said, rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet. “I was going to show her now.”

“Now?” Petter questioned, his eyebrows raised. “Don’t you think it’s a bit late?”

“That’s exactly why I’m showing her now.”

“The night is a dangerous time for a young Queen and Princess to be out and about.”

“Maybe in Narnia. But in Afodilia, the best things happen at night.”

“You say that like you’ve been in the streets before, well after your parents had retired for the night and when the day soldiers had been replaced with the night shift.”

“Perhaps I have,” I replied, a mischievous smile starting to form on my lips.

“That doesn’t make it any less dangerous.”

“Then perhaps Lucy and I need someone like High King Peter the Magnificent who has battled giants and fought alongside Aslan to protect us.” Peter let out a sole laugh that seemed to rattle throughout the bedroom, a smile now on his face. He walked towards the wardrobe that sat in the corner of the room, flinging open one of the doors and grabbing his cloak and Rhindon before turning back to me.

“Lead the way, Your Highness.”

“I never saw such a busy market this time at night,” Lucy said aloud, not really caring who heard her, her head moving around as she took in the sight. The usual night sounds of owls and crickets were drowned out by the sound of buyers bargaining for lower prices and sellers advertising their goods. I stopped at a small table that showed off a variety of produce, giving the seller two gold coins for an apple. I smiled as the vendor’s eyes lit up at the sight of the gold.

I turned to see Peter watching me. I gave him a small wink before taking a bite of the apple and continuing to walk along the different tables and stands. “An apple is not worth two gold coins.” I heard someone say. I turned to see Peter at my side.

“No, but I have more money than I could count. Overpaying for a fruit won’t kill me and it helps my subjects,” I replied with, taking another bite of my apple. I turned to see Peter watching me causing me to chuckle. “Have you never seen an apple before?”

“Of course I know what an apple is,” he said, rolling his eyes. “It’s just that your love for your subjects is admirable.”

“Oh please,” I said. This time, it was my turn to roll my eyes. “What I’ve done for my people is nothing compared to you. I don’t even know how to use a sword let alone defend my people from any physical threat.”

“You don’t need to fight a war to be a beloved monarch,” he said, shaking his head. “I would be honored to have you as my Queen.” The words seemed to have slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it, his lips forming a thin line once he had finished speaking. I felt my face warm at his words.

“Thank you,” I said, rather unintelligently as my brain failed to come up with something witty to say. My hands fiddled with the apple as I looked towards the ground not able to bring myself to look Peter in the eyes.

“(Y/n), look!” Lucy’s voice seemed to snap Peter and me out of the remnants of the conversation as we both turned to her. In her hands were an array of jewelry that seemed to be handmade. “Aren’t they beautiful!” Lucy seemed to have already bought a good amount of jewelry, a collection of bracelets on her wrist as she struggled with the clasp of a necklace. I chuckled as I walked over to her, helping her with the clasp.

“Let’s go somewhere else before you spend all your money here,” I said. Peter nodded in agreement, an amused smile on his face. I grabbed Lucy’s hand before pulling her away from the stand and towards the streets.

“Where are we going now?” she questioned as we started to walk down the cobblestone path.

“To the tavern,” I replied with, Lucy’s eyes widening at the words.

“I don’t think a tavern is the most appropriate place for Lucy,” Peter said, making me jump slightly as he had been so quiet I almost forgot he was there.

“Peter! I’ve fought wars and went through rigorous training. I think I can handle a tavern.” Lucy crossed her arms as if to accentuate her point.

“I don’t know…” Peter started.

“Where were you before anyway,” Lucy cut in. “You were gone for a few minutes and now you just reappeared. What were you doing?”

“Let’s go to the tavern,” Peter said quickly, obviously wanting Lucy to drop the subject.

“Okay!” Lucy exclaimed, jumping up in excitement before skipping the rest of the way to the building. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the young Queen as we neared the building. Upbeat fiddle music and loud conversations spilled through the doors and into the quiet night. Lucy didn’t hesitate to run into the building, leaving Peter and me in the dust. Peter opened the door, gesturing for me to go in first.

“Thank you,” I said, nodding at him before walking into the tavern, Peter right behind me. Lucy had already seemed to have found her way to one of the wooden tables, a drink in her hand as she told a story to the faun next to her with animated gestures.

“Looks like Lucy’s already made a new friend,” Peter chuckled as we made our way to a more empty table. Two drinks were almost immediately placed in front of us as we sat down.

“She seems to befriend everyone she meets,” I added, a smile on my face as I watched Lucy joke and converse with the other patrons.

“I used to worry that the war would change her. But she’s still the same as ever.” I sat in silence for a moment, imagining the King and Queen as frightened kids, discovering this magical world for the first time and having to fight in a war.

“Is it hard?” I questioned. Peter looked at me, the puzzled look on his face pushing me to elaborate. “I mean going from some ordinary guy to the High King of Narnia.” Peter’s shoulders seemed to slouch as he studied the liquid in his cup.

“It gets hard sometimes,” he said, swirling his cup around. “It isn’t really the King stuff that I get stressed about though. It’s my siblings. Before we left, I promised my mother that I would keep them safe. What if I already failed that promise?”

“Peter,” I said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. His muscles seemed to relax at the physical contact. “I see the way your siblings look at you. They love you unconditionally. No matter what happens. And you certainly have not failed. Look at Lucy, she’s having the time of her life. You have done as good as a job if not better as any parent could in raising your siblings to be respectful, charismatic, and wonderful people.”

“Thanks,” he said, smiling at me. I felt my heart start to race at the sight of his soft lips curled into a smile. “That was the first time I actually talked to someone about how I felt. It felt nice.” I smiled.

“Maybe instead of burying yourself with work you could have fun and talk to me instead,” I replied, chuckling as Peter rolled his eyes.

“You do realize that I have responsibilities, right?”

“Just because you have duties to fulfill doesn’t mean you can’t have fun.” My face lit up as I heard the beginning of an upbeat song being played. “C’mon Mr. serious. Let’s dance.” I grabbed onto his hand before dragging him to the crowd of people dancing along to the happy tune. I laughed as Peter struggled to keep up with the beat, tripping over his own feet as I danced around him. “Does His Majesty not know how to dance?” I questioned playfully, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t usually dance at balls,” he replied, a sheepish smile on his face.

“Nice to know you actually are human and not a god sent down from the heavens.”

“What makes you think I’m a god?” Peter inquired.

“You’re perfect at everything except for dancing,” I started, chuckling. “And you’re extremely handsome.”

“So you think I’m handsome?” He let out a hearty laugh as I felt my face warm.

“Of course,” I replied quickly, feeling myself already start to stumble over my words. “I mean, just because I find you attractive doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a fact.”

“Actually, beauty is subjective which means it’s not a fact.” I stopped dancing for a moment, my brain completely focused on how to get myself out of this predicament. “And for the record (y/n).” I felt my heart start to race as I waited for his response. “I think you’re quite attractive as well. One might even say beautiful.” I felt my face warm again, only this time it wasn’t from embarrassment. The sound of bells snapped me from my daze.

“Oh no,” I said, looking around the tavern for Lucy. “We have to get back. It’s getting late and we have to seem somewhat awake tomorrow.” My eyes landed on Lucy who was now dancing with a group of fauns and dwarves. I walked towards her, Peter right behind me. The closeness of our bodies caused my heart to beat even faster as I called out Lucy’s name.

“I’ll see you all later!” Lucy shouted back towards the group she had been dancing with. “Peter, Afodilia is amazing! We have to come to visit again.” We had now left the tavern, the cool night air refreshing after being in such a warm room.

“Agreed,” he said, stealing a glance at me. We were halfway back to the castle when Lucy let out a yawn. “Tired?” Peter asked, chuckling softly.

“Only a little,” Lucy replied with. With no hesitation, Peter scooped up Lucy in his arms, carrying her the rest of the way back. I followed Peter to Lucy’s room, both of us tucking her in and wishing her a good night.

“I knew she was going to make me carry her,” Peter chuckled as we neared my bedroom door.

“If I remember correctly, she didn’t ask to be carried.”

“She was implying it heavily though.” I let out a laugh as we came to a stop. “I had a wonderful time tonight,” Peter said, his voice softer than before.

“Me too.” I took a deep inhale as I looked up at Peter, realizing just how close we were.

“I, um, got you something,” Peter said, rubbing the back of his neck as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a gold chain with a single rose charm on it. “I saw it on that stand Lucy was at before and I thought you would like it.” He leaned in towards me, placing the chain around my neck. My face was almost pressed against his chest, the smell of the firewood from the tavern mixed with a hint of rosewood. As he pulled away he paused, our noses almost touching as he brought his hand to my cheek. I was worried that he could hear my heart beating, my chest rising and falling heavily from the new surge of adrenaline.

“Thank you,” I whispered, not quite trusting my voice.

“May I…” Peter started. I already knew what he wanted, not waiting for him to finish his sentence to nod vigorously. He closed the gap between us, lightly pressing his lips against mine. It wasn’t much, just a quick peck, but it filled my stomach with butterflies and I felt dizzy as he pulled away, my eyes still slightly shut. We stood silently for a moment, looking deeply into the other’s eyes. “I should probably go,” Peter said, breaking the silence.

“Yes,” I replied, my hand fiddling with the rose charm. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Good night (y/n).”

“Good night Peter.”

#peter pevensie #peter pevensie x reader #peter x reader #the chronicles of narnia #narnia #peter pevensie fanfic #peter pevensie preference #fanfic #imagine #preference #peter pevensie fluff #peter pevensie imagine #narnia fanfiction #lucy pevensie

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