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hidden-poet · 2 months

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Commander Snow; chapter 6

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit, violence, death.

Editor: @hotline-to-hell

chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Being Commander of District 12 meant that Coriolanus couldn’t just whisk you away to the forest to face his fears. He had a whole army dependent on him. It meant that while you were held up in his apartment, he was held up in his office.

It annoyed him to no end. To have you so close and yet still out of reach.

Despite you living with him for a week, you’ve only shared one meal together.

His overtime meant that you were asleep by the time he got home.

You had left a clean pair of his pajamas on the end of the bed. He had a habit of just stripping down to his underwear to join you.

You left dinner for him in the fridge and he sat at the dinner table eating it alone.

On the odd occasion, there was time to spend together, the mood was often tense from Coriolanus stress.

He tried not to take his frustration out on you but his answers were often short.

After a long day filled with complaints and issues that could have been easily solved without him, Coriolanus decided that he would not return to his office after supervising drill training and instead remain with you.

He was beyond tired from his day, but it was too early to suggest bed. You lay with him on the couch, propped up by a throw pillow against the arm of the couch while he lay in front of you. He threw your arm around his shoulder and held it tight under his chin.

The TV played a music talent show that neither you nor Coriolanus could care about but the tv only picked up two channels; the news or the entertainment channel that the Hunger Games were shown on. Coriolanus couldn’t bear to hear any more politics for the day so you watched people dressed in irregular costumes perform ballads out of their range.

His eyes droop as he fights the upcoming sleep. It was the first time since the fight with Edmund that he got you to sit down. The little he was here you spent avoiding him. For the first few days, he was angry too and avoidance stopped the fight he wanted to have with you.

But a week had passed and his temper cooled.

You were with him now. Playing housewife to the Commander.

He felt better now that he was coming home to something, rather than just the cold. When he looked in the fridge there was food for him. His clothes were washed and prepared for him. His bed was warm at night. He made him feel less homesick.

The talk from the TV turned from the judges to Lucky the presenter.

“Now ladies and gentlemen. We have a surprise for you tonight. We have a certain special guest gracing us. And we have given him the power to save one of your favorites from elimination! Mr Augustus Bloom won’t you please come out!”

Coriolanus shot up from your hold to watch him.

Augustus Bloom walked on screen wearing an expensive suit. His brown hair was slicked back and a small gold earring dangled from his ear.

The crowd cheered for him.

Coriolanus was stuck in District 12 dealing with half-wits and scum, while Augustus was charming the Capitol on live tv.

He shakes hands with Lucky.

“Mr. Bloom, a privilege to have you here tonight!”

“A privilege to be here amongst you and away from my office.”

Lucky turns to the crowd and laughs.

“Look at you. You good-looking man! You should be out on the town, breaking hearts!”

Augustus laughs along with the crowd.

“I am too busy preparing my business for when I am president of Panem. I’ll worry about women after that.”

Coriolanus clenches his fist.

“Oh,” Lucky turned serious to the crowd, “I think Coriolanus Snow might have something to say about that!”

The crowd murmurs amongst themselves giving Coriolanus an air of confidence.

A picture from his Academy days flashes up on the screen, you look at it with curiosity. He was once a young boy with soft curls, he now sat nearly unrecognizable.

“He’s looking like a strong contender. Isn’t he handsome ladies!” He points out to the crowd, “And some gentleman.”

Augustus had the wind knocked out of his sail. He fidgeted on stage and took a step back almost as if he was going to run away. Dr. Gaul's criticism ran through Coriolanus’ head, “a soft-bellied rich boy, not fit for the presidency.”

Now the whole audience knew it too.

“Snow isn’t here” he gritted through a smile. He wasn’t going down with a fight.

“No. He’s in District 12, keeping us here in the Capitol safe. A round of applause for Commander Snow!”

The crowd cheered causing Coriolanus to smile.

“So am I!” Augustus interrupted like a child.

“Yes, right. I am sure one day you will!” Lucky claps him on the back and returns to the audience with an excited demeanor.

“But of course, that’s a while yet! We are wishing our President Ravenstill all the good health in the world. Now let’s get on with the show!”

Coriolanus switches the TV off and rests his arms on his knees. He couldn’t help but smile at Augustus' national failure. He made Coriolanus look so strong, so mysterious, and focused. He would send Lucky a fruit basket in thanks tomorrow. He would also send one to Augustus.

“You had curls.” The young boyish figure had shocked you.

“Yes,” he pats your knee affectionately, “When we are back in the Capitol and I am president of Panem, I’ll grow them back again.”

==================

Coriolanus has the nightmare that night. He woke up with the tune of ‘Hanging Tree’ stuck in his head. The first thing he does is reach out to where you should have been lying only to find the space cold. Panic rushes through him. His feet thump against the floorboards as he runs from the room into the hall. Your sleeping body can be seen on the couch and he instantly relaxes.

His body tells him he should be angry; fists clenched, shoulders up and tense, his face hot. But he couldn’t manage it. His mind was too hazy to comprehend anything but his own panic.

Instead, he sits down on the floor beside you and tries to control his breathing. The tune hums in the back of his mind and he tries to force it out.

“You had the nightmare again?” Your voice halts the tune. He looks over his shoulder at you with wide eyes. You finally saw the resemblance between the schoolboy with the curls.

He gets up and pushes himself on the couch next to you. You feel his hands slide up your back, trying to hold you close but you wiggle free from his grasp.

You would not comfort the man who kidnapped you.

He tried to bring you back down to his chest as you crawl over him but his tired state left room for error.

You tumble down to the floor as you escape.

He sighs disappointed, bringing his hands up to his face.

“Was there something wrong with the bed?” he asks.

“I prefer the couch.” You sit on the ground next to him.

“You prefer the bed built by Edmund.” He spat his name like it was poison.

You look up at him warily, “I never told you that Edmund built my bed.”

Coriolanus is silent for a minute, he sucks his teeth and sits up.

“You didn’t have to. The wood from your door and bed match.’’

He feels settled as you sit by his feet. The panic subsides, but his anger bubbles up from it.

“Can you make me a cup of tea?” he asks.

With him on your bed, you couldn’t go back to sleep anyway so you rose and went to the kitchen to put the kettle on.

He watches you while sitting on the couch. He liked how you moved so comfortably in the space. You were treating it like your home. No hesitation about where things were, you used things liberally.

“What do you dream?” You ask him.

“When I wake up it’s gone,” he lies.

You know he carries it around with him.

“Whatever it is, it scares you.”

The kettle whistles and you pour it over the tea bag.

He worried that he now looks weak in front of you. The man who was supposed to be protecting you was scared of a dream like a child. He could continue with his lie but you already knew.

Instead he tries a half-truth.

“I dream that I am killed like my father was.”

This peaked your interest causing him to sit up straighter under your attention.

“How did he die?”.

He takes the cup from you but you don’t scurry away like you usually do. You stand in front of him eager to listen to him. The attention moved his mouth,

“Here. In District 12. A trap out in the forest during the war. He was a governor”.

“Is that why you wanted to come back?”

“I didn’t want to come back” he admits. He reaches up with his spare hand to lightly touch yours, “But I am glad I did.”

“What did you do?” you feel his thumb brush over the back of your hand, “I mean, to get you sent here?”

He takes a sip of his tea before answering, “I had an enemy in the Capitol. He disliked my father and took it out on my family”.

“He sent you back as Commander?”

“No. He died. Gaul sent me back for my presidential run. It looks better to be serving my country.”

You tear your hand from him, “And when they find out you brought me back to the Capitol. How will that look?”

He places the cup on the floor and stands up to your height.

“I’ll keep you safe, okay?” he presses his forehead against yours, “In the district and in the Capitol”.

“Safe from danger you put me in.”

Coriolanus shakes his head as you pull away from him. “You’re safe. You’ve always been safe.”

He tried to pull you close again but you stretched out your arms to keep him at distance.

“I wanna go home, Coriolanus.”

“Home to Edmund, perhaps?” he bites. His calm and soft features harden.

A shiver shoots up your spine at the mention of Edmund.

“Home to my family. The same as you.”

He sighs, “You won’t be alone in the Capitol as you are here. You just have to put up with it just a little bit longer. We’ll be back home soon”

The Capitol was not your home nor would it ever be.

But you knew anymore talk of home would lead to more talk of Edmund.

“Come on. Let’s go back to bed.” You rip your elbow from his grasp as he walks past you.

“I’m fine on the couch.”

He rubs a hand over his mouth before bending down and picking up his tea cup. He splashes the remains on the couch and hands you the empty cup.

“Enjoy it then.”

—————-

The next day he comes home around lunch time. It catches you by surprise.

“Come on,” he says, nodding his head backwards.

You follow him without a word to the van below where officials stood around. Upon seeing him they take their place. You see Smiley by the passenger side door and he calls out for his Commander.

Coriolanus tell Smiley to take the seat and climbs in the tray of the truck.

He pulls you up into the van amongst the Peacekeepers. He sits on the end of the bench with you between his legs on the floor. Like a seatbelt he keeps you in place by taking a hold on your upper arms and pulling them back up on his knees.

You can feel the glances of his officers but they look away as soon as you try to meet their eyes.

Halfway they try to break the tension with idle chatter.

“Will the recruits be as bad as last year?”

“That’s couldn’t be possible.”

The talk soon turns to anecdotes about their youthful days as Peacekeeper grunts.

None of them try to include Coriolanus in their jests. They all willfully ignored the couple on the end.

You don’t try to talk to him either.

As you pass through the district the people look at the Peacekeeper van causing you to turn your head in embarrassment. You could still feel the harsh judgements from your community as you sat between the Commander's legs. How would you ever rebuild your reputation?

The van stops in front of the tunnel to the train station. The people part in the crowd to let the van through.

Coriolanus releases you to unhook the bolts from the backn of the truck. None of the other Peacekeepers move until he does. He jumps down from the bed of the truck and turns back around to help you down. They all wait until you are down and out of the way before they follow.

It’s busy, too busy for a normal docking of fresh recruits. All of the road and tunnel leading to the train station were overrun by bodies.

District people flood the space, all chatting loudly in a panic. They part as the line of Peacekeepers march through.

Normally on orientation day, the newcomers to District 12 were given a wide berth. People had better things to do then get a glimpse of the faces that would soon be terrorizing them.

You wondered what peaked their excitement today. What had Coriolanus done that both you and the district people had to see?

Coriolanus drags you down the dark tunnel into the light of the train station. The talk quitened but didn’t stop altogether.

You screamed upon seeing the commotion.

Edmund.

He was badly beaten and tied to a sturdy metal pole that kept the roof up. A bulls-eye was spray painted an inch above his head.

Blood soaked his face to the point you almost didn’t recognize him.

Large black bruises covered his exposed skin.

You turn to Coriolanus who was already looking at you and beg him to release Edmund.

“Please, Coriolanus. Let him go.”

“He threw the first punch.”

You knew it had less to do with causing Coriolanus physical harm than it did with damaging his ego and need for control. Your neighbors were shown that the Commander bleeds like any other man.

“He learnt his lesson.” you promise.

“Have you learnt yours?”

Only ten young boys disembark from the train. They were all thin with a badly-shaved buzzcut and carrying a Capitol issued duffle bag.

You wanted to run over to Edmund. Protect him somehow. But you couldn’t, it was your protection that got him here in the first place.

“Gentlemen, welcome to District 12.”

Coriolanus stood by your side while another officer went in front of the line of boys.

“This is Edmund Flare,” he gestures to Edmund at the post, “A known rebel sympathizer, and a troubled citizen of District 12.”

Another Peacekeeper runs over and passes the man a gun. You grab Coriolanus' arm in protest.

“More likely than not, you will have to shoot Edmund one day in service of your country. We figured today we would give you the opportunity to save yourself the trouble in the future.”

The first young boy is given the gun.

“You get one shot before you have to wait for that day to naturally come.’’

Edmund holds his head up high to show he is not afraid. But you were. You were terrified. A strong urge to go over and rip the gun out of the young boys hands presented itself but you knew you would be pulled back before you could even stand close enough to touch him,

The boy checks the gun for the trigger, earning a laugh from everyone but you and Coriolanus.

Eventually he finds it, and he takes aim.

The shot misses by a mile.

“Coriolanus please.” He remains emotionless, watching the scene before him. He stood as if it was a street performance, hands clasped behind his back and perfect posture to get a good view.

“Wait! Wait!” you call out but the men continue. Another boy steps up and takes the gun.

He takes less time to examine the gun before firing a shot. Edmund flinches as it wizzes past his shoulder.

‘‘Coriolanus! Stop this. Just please stop, untie hi-”

The next shot is fired causing you to spin around to ensure that Edmund was still standing. He was tall and stupidly proud.

“I’ll never forgive you if one of them hurt him!” you threaten but it doesn’t even earn you a glance.

“Do you love him?”

“No” you answered firmly and fast, “No, Coriolanus. Please stop.”

Another shot is taken.

“Because if you loved him now would be the time to tell me, because I would hate to break apart lovers.”

The third shot lands next to Edmunds boot. You felt physically sick watching the scene. Your legs shook and would soon give way.

The men start to whoop and cheer the young recruits on. It gives the next young boy confidence to take a step closer to take his shot but it misses all the same.

You can’t tear your eyes off Edmund as the next recruit takes aim. They look each other in the eyes. Never spoken a word and already enemies.

The shot is taken but wizzes past Edmunds head.

You shake your head no. You knew telling him that you loved Edmund would sign his death certificate.

“He’s my brother's friend, Coriolanus. We grew up together.”

The next shot hit the pole but not the target, causing you to yelp.

Loud cheering snapped you out of your daze. Begging would get you nowhere.

Instead you take his shoulders into your arms and turn him towards you.

“He looked after me before you. I would have been dead long before you got to me if it wasn’t for him”.

Coriolanus throws his eyes back to Edmund which was not the desired effect.

You change positions, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his attention back down to you.

“I didn’t tell him that you’d taken his role. The other night he was just trying to protect me as you would’ve.”

He finally looks down at you.

“Please, don’t kill him, Coriolanus. I could never forgive myself.” Your voice begins to shake. You were so nervous for Edmunds safety. Your knees buckled and tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

He takes the side of your face into his hands.

“Do you love him?”

You shake your head feverishly, “No, Coriolanus.”

“Do you love him?” You feel his fingers tighten on your face.

“Yes.” you admit.

“Do you love me?”

Through gritted teeth a ‘yes’ resounds.

“More than him?”

A shot whizzed into the crowd as the new recruit lost control of the gun and Coriolanus pulled his body over yours.

The officers scold the boy. Taking the waving gun away. The shot landed into the train station wall but it was a close call for those standing in front of it.

He removes your arms from him and you watch him walk over to the officer holding the gun.

He takes it and aims at Edmund who stood straight and tall.

You shrink as the gun fires. Unable to look, you cover your face with your hands.

The cheering made no impact on your confidence. You couldn’t hear Edmund from their excitement. So you reluctantly open your eyes to see him still standing.

The bullet had made it straight to the middle of the painted target.

Coriolanus stood taking aim still, as if he was still considering firing another shot.

Edmund stared back, almost daring him.

“Commander.” you call. You don’t call him by his name, not in front of people.

Coriolanus lowers the gun but keeps his eyes on Edmund as he speaks,

“Load them up and head back to the compound.” he passes the gun to the closest officer and turns back to where you stood.

“Cut him loose.” he calls back.

When he tosses his arm around you and pulls you back to the truck, you turn back to see Edmund surrounded by Peacekeepers.

People mummer as you walk past but your ears buzzed too loudly to hear a word.

You felt so weak as you walked. You thought you were going to collapse before you could make it to the van. But with Coriolanus’s strong hold on you, you made it back.

He climbs in first and reaches down to pull you up. He sits you on his knee instead of on the ground and you watch as the peacekeepers, old and new, return to the truck.

You don’t even have it in you to feel embarrassed as eyes locked into you.

No one said anything to Coriolanus on the way back.

As soon as the truck opens back in the compound, you are the first to jump out. You hear Coriolanus footsteps as he followed you back to the apartment.

You immediately take a seat at the kitchen table and Coriolanus gets you a cup of water. You stare at it in front of you.

“Edmund died today, as far as you are concerned.”

Closing your eyes to the image of him, you nod your head.

He could hear Coriolanus moving around the apartment but you couldn’t care what he was doing.

When he slams something down in front of you, you open your eyes to see a piece of paper and a pen.

“I want you to write to your brother and tell him about us.”

You couldn’t. Your brother was hot headed, and powerless. He would cause only problems for himself trying to get back.

“What would be the point? He is over in District 8.”

“My family are in the Capitol, yet they know about you.”

Shock strikes you knowing that his family knew of Coriolanus’s actions.

“Write to him,” he pushes, “tell him that we are together. How you feel.”

You pen a half-hearted letter about how you met a man. Coriolanus, you called him, Not Commander Snow. You tell him how you miss him, and that your mother is okay. That Coriolanus is ensuring that your basic needs are met. Don’t worry, you tell him, you’re perfectly safe.

Coriolanus reads it after you are done before folding it and placing it in his pocket.

He slides another piece of paper over in front of you.

“Now write to Tigris and my grandmother. Tigris suggested it would make you feel better, already knowing someone in the Capitol.”

You pick up the pen and write again, but your mind remains on the image of Edmund being used as target practice. You make yourself a promise that you would never meet his cousin or his grandmother. Their letters are as close as they will get before you could escape.

—------

Coriolanus amped up his work schedule even more. Eager to break free from his responsibilities and solve the mystery of Lucy Gray.

You were left alone at night which was preferable to his company but you felt yourself going crazy with only your own company.

You tried to keep a routine to fill the day. It was mostly taken up by cleaning tasks.

After dinner you would wash and dry the dishes, wipe the countertops and table and sweep and mop the floor. Then you would retire to the living room with your sewing or polishing work until it was time for bed.

There is a quiet tapping on the window disturbing you from securing the buttons on Coriolanus’s shirt.

No fear ran through you wondering who it could be. They couldn’t get in to harm you anyway. So you peer out from the window.

“Edmund” you gasp.

His left eye was blackened, a large bruise formed around the bloodshot vessels. A purple bruise marked his cheek and there was a cut on his right eyebrow.

“How did you get in?”

He hold a pair of wire cutters up to the window.

“Are you okay? God I was so worried about you.”

“Ah,” Edmund smiles and replaces the wire cutters with a small knife from his pocket, “Takes more than that.”

“What are you doing?” you hiss. If Coriolanus found him, there was no way Edmund would escape death a second time.

“Getting you out of here.”

“You can’t be here. He’ll be home soon.”

“I know. I’ve been here every night since i’ve been well enough. I told you, you’re not alone.”

“The Peacekeepers-’’

“There’s a fifteen minute window where this section is blind.” The lock wiggles but resists being opened under pressure, “And he just entered the infantry to wish our poor peacekeepers a speedy recovery. We have time.”

The door was determined to chew most of it up, however.

“Edmund, what did he do to you?” his face was swollen from the bruising, and you could see large black and purple spots peeking out from under his shirt.

“The day after he took you, he sent Peacekeepers to my home. They took me back to the compound and showed me some ‘hospitality’”.

“Edmund,I am so sorry,” you begin to cry, “I never should have taken the oat bars to the jail.”

You remembered the day at the market that set off the chain of events.

You remember seeing the man, he stood out amongst the crowd. Dirty, torn clothes. An arm missing, no doubt from the district's mining work. There wasn’t much work for men outside of it.

A sense of pity overwhelmed you, so when he swiped a loaf of bread off the table, you looked the other way. Unfortunately a watchful Peacekeeper did not.

The man's plea echoed through your mind as he was taken away; “Please, I am so hungry.”

It led you to making the oat bars not only for him, but for all the others punished for their hunger.

You remembered a rumor that there was a hole at the west end of the jail for the Peacekeepers to sneak out from, and women of the night to sneak in. You were surprised to find out it was actually true.

“This is not your fault, okay. I am going to get you outta here, and we’ll go to the mountains okay? Where it’s safe. Like planned.”

You nod your head.

The door jingles as Edmund tries to force it open with his knife. It doesn’t bulge.

“Edmund, my mother, is she okay?”

“She’s okay. She’s already up the mountains.”

“How? She could barely walk?”

“I carried her.”

The guilt came crashing down on you. Edmund had his own family to look after. They wouldn’t survive without him.

“Edmund. Stop. I can get the key,” you weren’t sure if you actually could, “You need to go. Just tell me where you cut the hole.”

He stops trying to wedge the door with the knife so you could hear him clearly.

“There’s three big bins out by the back,” he points to the direction, “I cut a hole behind the middle one. It’ll take you to the south forest. I’ll wait there.”

“No,” you interject, “No. Wait for me in the mountains.”

He rolls his eyes and picks up his work of jamming his knife in the door.

“You’ll never make it up the mountain by yourself.”

“At home then! Just stay away from here.”

The plea was for both you and him.

“You can get the key and get out?” He asks in a serious tone, looking at you once more.

“Yes.” you confirm.

He sighs as he pockets his knife, “When?”

The Commander kept his keys by the night stand. You think you could remember which one opened the door.

“Soon.”

“A week. I’ll give you a week before I come back with something stronger.”

You nod your head in agreement.

“Thank you, Edmund.”

“You’re my girl.” he remarks as it was an obvious motivation for his work.

You shiver at his words.

————

You don’t sleep well at night so you have taken to having naps while Coriolanus is at work. He is home more often now. He had got ahead of a considerable amount of work which meant nights were spent together.

Most nights he would take you walking around the compound for fresh air after dinner. You tried to memorize the key he used to unlock the door but there were so many that all looked the same. You wondered how he even knew.

He is anxious now that he found out you were sleeping in the living room and has taken to chaining you together as you slept. He cuffed one of his wrists and one of yours, making sleep impossible as he basically slept on top of you now.

It was only three days after Edmunds promise, that you woke from your nap with the sight of Coriolanus packing your clothes into a bag.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

Was he moving you to your own apartment?

He drops the bag and comes over to sit next to you on the bed.

“Hey,” he greets “You need to get up now. We are going to go away for the weekend.”

You sit up away from him, “Where are we going?”

Vacations were not a thing in District 12.

“The Capitol?” you guessed.

“No, not the Capitol.”

You sigh in relief. Still he had not answered your question.

“Where then?”

He gets up from the bed and zips the bag up.

“Do you not trust me?”

You get up from the bed to see he had laid a dress on the end of the bed for you.

‘‘I just want to know where we are going.”

“You took me to a special place, and now I want to take you somewhere, okay?”

Throwing the duffle bag filled with spare clothes for you and him, over his shoulder he exits the room.

You change and his way out to the living room. There would be no point in fighting. You were going to find out where he was taking you at some point.

The living room was empty, but the door swung wide.

With the door being left open for you, you took the stairs down to where Coriolanus was loading the back of a patrolling truck.

You saw a small cooler of food, one of the old pans, bedding and pillows, a small bag of toiletries and the clothes bag. He had packed in a hurry. The bags were thrown in without care. They were far apart from each other and more items than not were upside down.

“We’re not coming back?” you ask.

“We’ll stay a night or two.” Or however long it takes to find Lucy Gray’s body.

He holds open the door and you follow his silent command to get in. You spot the rifle tucked between the seat and the console. It makes you rethink your decision of complacency.

“My special place didn’t need a gun.”

He takes your arm and gently pushes you forward into the car, but you tug back against him.

“It’s nothing. Just a precaution.”

He gently pushes you again to move.

“Get in.” he barks.

“No.”

He takes a harsh grip this time on your arm and leads you back to the cage where Peacekeepers kept people who disturbed the peace.

He pushed you into the small space amongst the bags.

It was big enough that you could sit with your back against the wall but it would only leave an inch of space between your head and the roof. The back was caged in so the rebels couldn’t reach the officers in front, and the length was long enough to fit three or four rebels at one time. Albeit a tad uncomfortably.

You bang on the metal divide as he slams the door shut and begins to drive.

“Coriolanus, you don’t have to do this. I could just go home.”

He drives through the middle of the district to the out of bounds forest, where Peacekeepers were waiting armed and ready by the electric fence line. They buzz the parting gate open and seal it shut again once the car passes.

Past the gate, it was just you and him. What would he want to take you to a secluded forest for. A million reasons run through your mind and they all end with you dead.

“How are you doing back there?” he calls from the front. The car as it powers through the harsh conditions almost drowns him out.

“Where are you taking me?” you demand to know, “What’s out past the boundary line that you set up?”

Was he hiding something out there? Was that the reason he set up the fence? Not to keep people contained but to hide something.

“There’s a cabin I know of. There’s a lake too. I think you’ll like it.”

You watch from the front window, looking out for landmarks that could lead you back home. The dark clouds that roll fourth threaten to destroy anything you can remember.

The path to the cabin is ingrained in his mind since he walked back a different man. He weaved through the gaps in the forest without looking at his father’s compass.

“Did Lucy Gray like it?”

He ignores your comment and you don’t speak again.

—---

When you reach the cabin it is old and run down. Vines cover the walls of the house, patching up the rotten wood.

Coriolanus seemed nervous to be there. His hand flexes as it reaches for you.

The door had been sealed shut with moisture and it took three hard shoulder charges from Coriolanus to get it open. He invites you in with a hand on your shoulder, shutting the door behind you before retaking your hand in his.

You could smell the dust as you stood in the small living room. The cabin was small and colorless. Mostly everything was made from wood. From the small kitchen table and chairs to the bed you could see in the adjacent room. The only thing that was metal was an old fire stove, and a few decorative pieces.

Leaves had blown in from holes in the roof scattering the floor. The place looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. You would have thought the place was abandoned since its creation if there weren’t bags upon the floor. Despite its appearance, someone had been here before you and Coriolanus.

He lets go of you to rush over to the bags. He unzips one and pulls out a colorful dress. The way he lets out a laughy breath sends shivers down your spine.

“Lucy Gray’s?” you ask but you already know the answer. He had taken her here to kill her, maybe under the guise of running away together, and now he has taken you here to kill you.

Coriolanus shrugs as if he doesn’t know and shoves the dress back in the bag.

“Whoever it belongs to is long gone.”

He continues to look through the bags for anything missing while you glance at the door.

You think about making a run for it. Surely you would have a better chance in the forest then against him. You feel your feet slowly turning in the direction of the door when his speaking interrupts you.

“I’ll take this junk outside.” he gathers the bags, slinging one over his shoulder and carrying the other two in his hands.

You don’t speak as he comes over to you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, noticing your uptight demeanor.

“Fine. You?” Was he being driven to a quiet rage with thoughts of Lucy Gray?

“Perfect.”

He places a quick kiss to your lips before carrying the bags outside.

You look at the gun on the floor. If you ran now while he was busy outside it would give you a head start. Surely he would need to come back to get the gun before chasing you. He couldn’t do it with his bare hands.

You could feel his hands around your throat and knew he could.

You bolt through the door and down the old steps but run into him as he comes back up.

He had only taken to throwing the old bags by the side of the house, planning to sink them alongside of the guns in the lake at a later point.

“Whoa” he stops you with his hands, “Where are you going?”

“The bags. To get the bags out of the car.”

He looks out to the forest as if he had heard something.

“Get back inside. I’ll get them.”

You watch him from the window bring the items in. He was cautious and kept glancing at the forest.

You did not want to end up a ghost among the forest with Lucy Gray. You wanted to live. To go up to the mountains with Edmund and be shielded in his arms.

As Coriolanus finished his second trip with the bags, he used an old chair still there and pinned it under the door handle to prevent it from opening.

You promised yourself that you would make it to the mountains. Coriolanus would not kill you and bury your body next to Lucy Gray.

You felt as if you were in the Hunger Games.

You were going to be the victor.

Coriolanus looked unbothered by these thoughts as he tried to light a fire in the old stove.

He gets it going and as he puts his matches back in, he notices you still in a tense form.

“It’s only for tonight. We’ll go home tomorrow afternoon.”

“Will we?” you spat. “Why are we here anyway?”

‘To kill me. Say it, you coward’, you thought.

“It’s quiet,’’ he suggests, “Some place quiet where we can be alone.”

“Is this where you took Lucy Gray?”

He slams a pan down on top of the hot surface.

“I didn’t know Lucy Gray. I’ve told you.” He opens a pack of sausages and throws them down without care before tossing the leftover garlic potatoes you cooked the night before in as well.

“Did you bury her out here?” you push.

He ignores you. Pushing around a sausage with the knife he used to cut open the packet.

“Are you going to bury me out here?”

“I have never hurt you.”

“You starved me, hit me, nearly killed my mother. You call that not hurting me?”

You felt your blood boiling. It was one thing to make your life a living hell, it was another to deny he did it.

He drops the knife and turns to face you.

“Have you starved under me? Has your mother?” he hits his chest with his next words, “You eat because of me. You sleep in a bed that I paid for. I provide for you. Me.”

He stalks towards you causing you to stumble back. You hit a wall but feel a rusted piece of metal under your fingertips. You grab it from the desk but keep it low from his sight.

“Everything has happened to you because you strayed, and you want me to apologize for it?”

“I want you to admit to what you did.” What you are about to do, so I don’t feel guilty.

He grabs hold of the bar and pulls it from you.

“I did not kill Lucy Gray,” he said earnestly. But he wished he had.

He throws the rusted object across the room and it lands with a heavy clang.

“And I am not going to kill you. You don’t think you’ve done enough already to get yourself hanged? I protected you from that. Not Edmund.”

Your breath hitches as you hear his name.

The smell of burning and sounds of angry popping infiltrates the room. Coriolanus leaves you to deal with it. The sausages were charred on one side but raw on the other. After a quick flip, Coriolanus returned his attention to you.

“Sit on the ground, by my boots.’’

You eye your weapon on the other side of the room but he was stronger, faster, you would never get it and wield it in time. Night time would be the best chance of escape. The cabin had no lock on it, and you were sure you could make it to the mountains from here. But first you had to get Coriolanus off his guard. He still carried his cuffs with him. Escape would be impossible if you were locked in place.

So you sit on the ground and wrap yourself around his leg as he cooks.

He liked the feeling of you anchoring him. It made him feel secure.

He cooks in silence, tossing the items in the pan so they wouldn’t burn. Cutting a sausage in half, he could see it was done, but he had forgotten plates.

Instead he takes the pan off the stove and carefully sits down across from you on the floor. The pan sizzles as it is placed between you on the floor. It didn’t matter if it burnt the wooden floor. The cabin was so run down, it hardly made a difference. Coriolanus pokes a potato with his knife and brings it up to you.

He wouldn’t give you the knife after the pipe incident. You bite the hot potato off and Coriolanus had his turn.

You could tell the rocky temper was still floating around in him. He had calmed but his face still spoke of his annoyance. His necklace overlaid his shirt, your ring called out to you.

“Give me your dog tag.”

“What?” he responds.

“If you’re not going to kill me, then let me wear your necklace. I’ll give it back at the compound, but if you do kill me, you’ll be forced to wear your guilt around your neck.”

You wanted your ring back before you left him forever.

“I am not going to kill you.” he sighs, taking a bite of sausage.

“Then give me the necklace.”

You hold your hand out for it, which Coriolanus eyes.

Dropping the knife into the pan, he maneuvers the tag of his neck, bypassing your hand and dropping it over your head.

You felt the ring scratch you as it landed.

“Happy now? Will you stop acting crazy?”

You hold the pendants in your hand and nod in agreement

The rest of the night was uneventful. He sets up lamps as it darkens and teaches you a card game. You lost every round, even the ones he tried to let you win. It was a strategy game and you didn’t have the head for it.

The game only lasted an hour before you were helping Coriolanus set up the bed. He had brought along air beds from the Capitol that inflated and deflated by a push of a button. He pushes them together and you made a bed out of the queen sized bedwear from the apartment.

As he went to sleep with you wrapped safely in his arm, he thought about how he was going to get you to stay inside while he went searching the woods.

He couldn’t tell you what he was looking for or who he was looking for. Nor could he take you with him under the guise of a leisurely walk. If Lucy Gray was out there he didn’t want you anywhere near her. He knew there were four more other cabins in these woods. Just because she hadn’t come back for her mother’s dress, didn’t mean she wasn’t out there. If anything, if she was alive it would be the last place she went back to. She was smart, she would have known that Coriolanus would one day come back to find the mystery of Lucy Gray. She was probably trying to throw him off her scent.

You wiggle, pulling the blanket higher over you and it brings his attention closer to home.

Maybe he could lock you in the back of the car while he searched.

He decided he was going to do something nice for you after this. For putting you through it all. Get your measurements and commission Tigris for a new dress, perhaps. Or buy you a necklace of your own.

Maybe both. He had the money for it for the first time in his life. And he did owe you an apology and a thank you for being here with him tonight.

He could see how scared you were thinking that your protector was turning against you. After yesterday, he perhaps should have waited a day or two before taking you away. He at least should have been more gentle in the approach, so you didn’t think he would harm you for his anger towards Edmund.

Coriolanus understood him in a way that saved him from being shot. He was just looking out for you, the same way Coriolanus would have. He and Edmund both wanted to take care of you but your heart only had place for one. And that spot rightfully, and wholly belonged to Coriolanus Snow. Edmund did his job of keeping you alive for Coriolanus and he was rewarded when the bullet went behind him and not into his skull. But now it was Coriolanus’s turn and both Edmund and you needed to learn that.

Coriolanus mind slowed as you stilled beneath him.

You will yourself to be still. You count your breaths out to mime sleeping. Coriolanus’s hold on your shoulder falls as he sleeps but you don’t make a move just yet. Half-scared that he would wake when you got up.

It wasn’t until it started to pour rain that you decided to stop stalling and make a move.

Carefully you rose, and the chains of his arms fell off you. The rain pelting down covered the sound of the air mattress as you moved off it.

The rain, as it turns out, was a blessing and not a punishment.

You had left your boots and dress next to you for easy access. Stripping yourself of your nightdress, you quickly change and tie up your boots.

Coriolanus had taken to sleeping in his underpants, now that you weren’t in a position to indirectly persuade him to dress in his nightwear. He liked the feeling of skin to skin with you but you beg him to keep his t-shirt on. You hated the feeling of his skin pressed against yours. He obliged.

Your boots squeak against the old floor boards as you walk across it to the door. Causing you to wince at every step, but you do manage to reach the door without waking him.

You try to gently tug the chair from under the door but it was jammed. Turning back to see him still sleeping, you tug a bit harder, but only the door knob jiggles. You cringe as he moves slightly on his back. You would have a harder time escaping the compound than here. There were no armed guards or sniffing dogs. Just you and him, and you had a head start. You had to pluck up the courage now.

The chair scraps against the floor but you manage to get it free.

There is a second where nothing moves or makes sound. You almost think you got away scot-free.

“What are you doing?” You hear his voice and turn to see him sitting up dazed.

Your answer is the throwing open of the door and running out. You hear him jump up as you do.

He yanks on his Commander’s pants and boots, leaving the laces untied.

It was too late by the time he got out you were nowhere to be seen.

He felt his heart jump from his chest. This couldn’t be happening. It was just a bad dream that he would wake from. But the icy water pouring down on him told him that it was true. You had betrayed him like Lucy Gray.

Lucy Gray. What if she was out in the woods where you ran? She was the victor of the hunger games, you were a lost lamb. You wouldn’t stand a chance against her. She would tear you to shreds if she thought she could get back at Coriolanus.

He thinks about returning to the cabin and retrieving his gun but you were already too far out of reach.

He yells out for you.

The rain poured down soaking you to the bone, but covered your tracks as you ran.

“Y/N!” he screams. You battle the rain as you ran through the forest. Pushing yourself to go faster.

“Hey, it’s dangerous out here. Lets go back to the cabin. Talk about this.”

His wild eyes scan the area for any sign of movement. The rain hindered his vision but he could hear the faint sound of branches snapping under your foot.

“Do you honestly think you can run from me? That I won’t find you?”

You don’t answer and he screams out some more

“Y/N! Come out now! This isn’t funny!”

You stumble as your dress caught on a tree, it grazes your arm as you pull, leaving a nasty cut.

He screams loudly out of frustration. The rain seemed to slow down to a trickle as he did, as if it was also scared.

“You stupid, little girl” you can hear him as he walks, he was catching up. You couldn’t outrun him so you slowed your pace, focusing your efforts on hiding.

“When I catch you…” he doesn’t finish his sentence.

You press yourself against the tree. Your arm stung from the cut and your lungs burned from your efforts.

“Hey, who do you think will reach your mother first?” he taunts.

You knew it wouldn’t be him. She was safe in the mountains and soon you would be too.

“Y/N. That’s enough.”

You slink to the next tree and focus on quieting your breathing. His footsteps got louder as he gained ground.

“Y/N, I said that’s enough!” He picks up a large tree branch and walks forward with it.

“You’re going to get lost in the forest. There’s worse things than me out there.”

He imagined you wandering, lost amongst the trees. Lucy Gray, savage and wild, following you. You wouldn’t see her as a threat when she introduced herself. You were too sweet. You would willingly follow her back to wherever she was hiding and by the time you sense the danger of her, it would be too late.

He needed to find you. To make sure you were alright. That Lucy Gray hadn’t got her hands on the only pure thing in his life.

“Look it’s not too late. We can just forget this happened. Go back to the compound.” he offers but you knew it wasn’t true.

You hold your brother's ring in your hand and make an attempt to move forward.

You made it to the next tree but hear Coriolanus stop walking.

With the rain slowing, it was harder not to make a noise.

A loud banging spooked you as he threw the wood against the tree you were hiding behind. You knew you should have stayed still, he was only testing, but your feet took off before your mind could command them not too.

He felt better seeing you run off. You ran uninjured and with no one following you.

He takes off after you, determined not to lose sight again.

Both of you run through the forest and rain. You felt as though he might eat you alive if he caught you, but he was faster. All too soon, you feel hands on your waist, pulling you down. You scream as you sink into the mud, trashing under his weight.

He sits on your thighs and keeps your hands pinned against the dirt floor.

“What were you thinking?” He spat. You had never seen him look so upset. His face scrunched, eyebrows furrowed, his eyes looked down at you in a crazy panic.

“How could you be so stupid?”

You toss under him, screaming at him to release you.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?”

You kick your feet in an attempt to buck him off, but he was too heavy.

“Shut up,” he grabs your jaw and stills it in his direction, “You stupid, stubborn, fool of a girl. What was your plan? Huh? Wander around the forest and hope you make it back to District 12?”

You don’t answer and he tightens his hold.

“It was foolish. What if something got you in the forest?’’

What if Lucy Gray got you in the forest.

“Do you have any idea what that would have done to me?”

“I don’t care,” you cry.

“You don’t care?” he says, astonished.

He sits back off you and pulls you up by your arms.

“When you were hungry, I cared.” he pulled you along back to the cabin.

“When you didn��t have money for rent, I cared.” You wriggle your arm, but his hold was too tight.

“Clothes for the winter, medicine for your mother. I cared. And what do I get for it?”

You latch yourself onto a tree. It grounds you as he tries to tug you off it.

“All I ever wanted from you was for you to care.”

He yanks you off the tree and shoves you forward.

“You would think after everything, I would be entitled to it.”

“Coriolanus, please let go of me.” you buck against him.

He tightens his hold, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the ground.

He throws you across the floor as you reenter the cabin, going to get his cuffs from his bag. You scramble away from him as he gets closer but he stands over you, trapping your wrist in the cuff and hooking it around the leg of the oven and then trapping your wrists.

He stood back over you.

“Look at you,” he spat, “You wouldn’t have lasted the night out there.”

The cut on your arm bleed down, your hair was tangled with twigs and mud. You looked pitiful.

“Let me go, Coriolanus. I won’t tell anyone.”

He lowers himself down to the ground, placing his knees either side of you. He places the weight of him on your legs. You hated the feeling, as now you were fully immobilized.

He speaks slowly and dangerously with your face in his hands.

“If you ever try to leave me again, there will be nothing you could do that would save Edmund”.

Do you understand?”

You nod, but it seemed to anger him.

“I asked if you understood,” he yells.

“Yes. Yes. I understand.”

“How stupid could you be? So worried about me killing you, you decide to do it yourself.”

“I wasn’t thinking,” you just wanted him to get off you. His weight was crushing.

“I doubt you’ve ever thought something useful in your life. Use to everybody else doing it for you.”

His hands tangle in your hair forcing you to keep still.

“I’ll do your thinking for you from now on. Your next independent thought, I’ll smash from your skull, understand?”

“Yes.” you cry. The night proved too much for you. The hope of getting away now crushed under his foot.

Your chest heaves with sobs. The panic of being a sitting duck waiting to be killed courses through you, it was a choking sensation.

He takes his wet form off of you and towards the door.

The night was getting to him too. He felt as if history was repeating itself. Back in the forest with little control.

He goes to the side of the house where the bags layed and stuffed them with as many heavy rocks as he could find.

They were heavy as he picked them back up and takes the old boat out to the middle of the lake. The bags sink easily with the rocks, and join the guns at the bottom. His past was officially buried. He now only had the future to look forward to. A future with him as President of Panem, and you by his side.

He rows the boat back to shore. The rain soaked him again and his shirt clung uncomfortably on his skin. It sticks the cold to his chest and his mind floats back to you inside. You were sure to catch a cold if he didn’t move fast.

Entering the house, he could see he was correct from the way your body shivered.

Wiping off the water from his face with his soaked shirt, he goes to his bag and pulls out a fresh shirt for himself. He could still hear you crying as he changed into dry shirt and underpants.

He takes one of his long sleeve off-duty button ups and a towel he wanted to be used from swimming in the lake and brings them over to you.

He had brought you a spare change of clothes but after tonight he felt like he needed the extra security and you needed a extra reminder.

You flinch as he drops down on his knees.

“I am going to uncuff you so you can change.”

You sniffle and he takes it as confirmation to move. With your hands unlocked, you battle with Coriolanus over your clothes. He grasps the end of your dress, beginning to hike it up but you push down the fabric.

“I can-” you manage.

“I do the thinking for you, remember.”

You don’t fight as he yanks the wet dress over you, throwing it behind him carelessly. He keeps his eyes as forward as he can as he slides the sleeves up your arms. Only looking down as he does up the buttons. It was oddly gentlemanly and you wonder if he did it for his sake or yours.

“Stop,” you beg, as you feel his fingers hook over the elastic of your underwear. He doesn’t, going as far as to help you put on a fresh pair. He cuffs you once more to the oven before bringing one of the blankets and pillows back over.

He lays the blanket over you without a word and props the pillow under your head before returning to makeshift bed.

He lays on his side away from you, but you gather he doesn’t sleep, as an hour or so later he brings his pillow and blanket and curls up against your side.

He gets his rest, but you are left in a state of shock that hinders your sleep.

————-

Early the next morning you woke from the sound of Coriolanus stomping in the kitchen. He was eating beef jerky for breakfast. You wake with the sight of him leaning back against the wood counter, towards you. You try to sit up as much as you can while being tied down.

Looking at the food, your stomach grumbles.

“Hungry?” he asks.

You nod in hope that mercy would be given to you.

None was.

“Imagine how hungry you would be lost in the woods.”

“I would have made it back.” you contend.

He strips off another piece as he answers, “You would be dead if I didn’t find you.”

He throws the packet on the counter. It sits unbalanced on the side.

“Are we going home?” You saw the bags were neatly packed in a pile and you thought calling the compound ‘home’ might earn you some beef jerky.

“I have something I have to do. We’ll be back by this afternoon.”

“What do you have to do?”

“None of your business.” he snaps.

The conversation ended as he walks over to the bags and picked up his gun that was resting against them.

You watch him, dressed down in his white t-shirt and army pants, as he swings his rifle over his shoulder.

“I’ll be back soon.” he comments, half way out the door.

He walks through the forest at a slow pace. Careful not to miss the smallest bit of detail.

Retracing the steps of that day, he makes it to where he was bitten by the snake.

Time had overtaken the hunting ground. There was now grass where the earth once was.The branches and trees had healed from the damage done.

He eyes the place where he attempted to shoot Lucy Gray and aims his gun like he did.

He half-expected to see her in the space waiting for him, but it was just ground again. No clues were left for him to find.

There was no rotten smell overtaking his nose. No scrap of clothing left for him to find, or anything to indicate human life had been moving through the forest.

He continues to walk through.

The mockingjays squawk above him. If he was a better shot, he would have taken the time to kill at least some of them. But you would hear the gunfire and panic.

With no sign of Lucy Gray, he continues his way up to the other cabins. He searches each one but they look untouched and run down. The heat of the sun beats down on him as he makes his way back. It was early afternoon by the time he had satisfied himself that Lucy Gray was nowhere in the woods. She could have made it back to District 12, but it was unlikely. He kept tabs on the Covey for months after he got back. He surely would have known if they were hiding her. She must have gone north like planned. He wondered if she made it, or if her body is now one with the earth.

Either way, she was gone and Coriolanus could shake her from his memory.

When he returned back to the cabin, you were busy yanking on your chains.

He presses the point of the gun into your ankle, pinning it against the floor. You don’t try moving under threat. He slides the gun slowly up your leg, over your calf, over your knee, inching up to the middle of your thigh under his shirt. You pulled against your chains, but don't verbally acknowledge you were scared.

“Open your legs wider.” he demands. Instead you squeeze your thighs tighter together.

He pushes the gun with more force against you.

“I am in a very good mood. You would hate to ruin that wouldn’t you?”

Deciding you would, you separate your legs. He nestles himself between you, pulling you closer by your thighs so your legs are past his hips.

Thankfully the gun settles on the floor.

“I think we should talk about last night.”

You shake your head no and he gives you a serious look.

“Every time I give you an inch, you take a mile.”

“I thought you were going to kill me.”

“I have been nothing but patient and kind to you.”

You wanted to laugh at him but forced it down. It was not too late for you to end up dead in the forest.

“I know, Coriolanus. And I am sorry. It’s just no one has ever cared for me like this before”.

He laughs gently at you, “You’re trying at least.”

“It scared me. But if you give me another chance, I promise I won’t disappoint you.”

He lays his body down on yours, keeping his weight off you by planking on his elbows.

“You can have as many chances as it takes.” he promises, softly.

“Just one more.” you return in the same small voice.

He kisses you as if you had earnestly promised to live up to his expectations.

But really what you promised is that you would allow yourself one more chance of escape before he made good on his promise to kill your mother and Edmund. If you lead to their death, then you would follow them shortly after.

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

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writtenfangirl · 28 days

Text

Kismet

In which Anthony Bridgerton contemplates the meaning of life, death and love

I’ve had this scene in my notes app for so long and I always found it so beautiful but couldn’t find a character to write it for UNTIL Anthony Bridgerton came along.

Pure fluff but mentions of death.

Anthony had always been afraid of death, as much as he’d been afraid of love.

It was difficult not to be when you witness both of your parents’ deaths.

He’d seen the way his father collapsed, face purple, breaths coming out in gasps before they suddenly stopped. He saw his father’s mortal body die, saw the light in his eyes dim before they completely sputtered out. And afterwards, when the doctors could do nothing to help him, he saw his mother’s soul die with him. Her cry of anguish as Edmund Bridgerton collapsed onto the soft grass, the days after the funeral when she would not speak and she only had that vacant look in her eyes, without any sign of that light Anthony grew up seeing.

Death was not a foreign concept to Anthony Bridgerton. The fragility of his mortality and the concept of his demise, as well his failings as the Bridgerton patriarch were his most intimate friends. These were the thoughts that plagued him at night. They were the covetous brothers Benedict and Colin were not. While his brothers of flesh and blood may have been content to let him keep the title, those thoughts had looked over his shoulder, had watched his every move and decision, had waited for a single misstep for the right moment to strike.

They absolutely terrified him.

So much so that he had stopped living.

What good was it, truly, to live and to love, when life could end in a flash. When nothing you do in this world matters, when you realize that everything you held dear could be taken from you in a blink, you begin to believe that such things weren’t worth the risk.

He loves his family, that much he was sure. It was difficult not to love them when they seemed to reside in his very heart, woven into the fabric of his soul. He had no choice but to love them.

But he had a choice when it came to romantic love. He did not have to go through the pain of losing someone else, nor would he ever damn another person into loving him and losing him too. On that, he could decide.

Or, at least he thought he could.

Because love certainly came for him, as surely as he knew death would one day come for him. It came to him in the form of the most beautiful woman in the world.

Y/N Y/L/N. She was the niece of the Viscountess Heathwood. By the ton’s standards, she was nobody. Beautiful yet still, unimportant and without any significant title or dowry aside from her relation with the Viscountess. Had it not been for her staggering beauty or her education and graceful countenance, she would have been dismissed.

If you had asked the Anthony of five years ago what he thought of when he imagined his wife, a woman like Y/N would have been last on his list.

But the Anthony of five years ago was an idiot.

Because Y/N, with all her grace and beauty, had a fierce determination that not only made her befitting of the title of viscountess but also made her a great addition to the Bridgerton family.

And to Anthony, she was everything.

Love in the shape of Y/N knocked on his door, and when he had refused to answer, love barreled its way into his heart like a disease. It burrowed itself into his skin until he flushed at the mere thought of her, wormed its way into his heart until his heart beat only for her. Then, love pounded its way deep into his soul and staked a tether that tied his soul to hers.

Anthony knew that one day, death would come knocking. It would take its bony hand and place it on his shoulder, beckoning Anthony to his side.

He was still undoubtedly terrified of it.

But for Y/N, for the love his life, he would live.

“What’s got you in so morose a mood so early in the morning?” Her voice, sweet and calming, pulled him out of his stupor.

Bathed in the golden light of the dawning sun, she looked breathtaking. It should have been impossible, to be so beautiful when she’d just woken up, but Anthony knew that if anyone could make the impossible possible, it would have been her.

She was pressed against his side, her body warm and flushed against his own. His arm, wrapped around her as her head rested on his chest. The only thing that separated them was the thin fabric of their sleeping clothes but even with them on, he could feel the contours of her body. The rolling curve of her hips, the softness of her skin as his hands trailed down her arm and up again.

He’d awoken to his wife in his arms for three years now but he could never take this feeling for granted. Everyday he woke up like this was a day he was truly thankful for.

Anthony placed a tender kiss on his wife’s forehead, the little hairs on the tip of her forehead tickling his nose. “I was just deep in thought, my love.”

“About what?”

He contemplated lying to her. Admittedly, his thoughts were far too dark to share so early in the morning. But Y/N had always been adept at sussing out any falsehoods, most especially his own.

“Death.”

Her brow shot straight up, pulling away from him and propping herself up on an elbow. The thin strap of her nightgown slipped past her shoulder revealing her glorious skin, her long hair trailing down her back. The golden light that bathed her had turned into a halo against the backdrop of the window, turning her into one of God’s sacred angels. “Why the bloody hell would you think about your death so early in the morning?”

“I wasn’t thinking my death. Just death in its most general sense.”

She gave him a pointed look. “That’s not very reassuring.”

He grinned at her. He couldn’t help it, not when she was looking at him in that certain way that always had him believing he was in trouble but would receive a reward rather than a punishment. “I assure you, it is not so morbid. I was simply thinking of life’s ephemerality, and how one ought to live it for the right people.”

She didn’t look reassured but nevertheless, she laid back down, Anthony’s arm instantly enveloping her, hand absentmindedly resuming its task of drawing lazy circles on her arm. “You would think, that with my husband celebrating his birthday today, he would think of happier things. His beautiful wife, perhaps, or his kind mother, or the veritable gaggle of siblings who adored him. You would think that, perhaps, his mind would wander towards the child his wife is currently carrying. But alas, he thinks of death. I never thought death to be a celebratory topic, but to each his own.”

He flicked her nose playfully at her sarcastic tone, her mouth pulling into a grin. “If you must know, death was on my mind because today marks the day that I am officially older than my father was when he passed.”

Suddenly, whatever joy filled the air died. “Oh.”

It was the truth. In the weeks since his birthday, his every waking thought had been consumed by his father. His father, Edmund Bridgerton, who was 8th viscount of the Bridgerton family. His father, who’s death marked the biggest change of Anthony’s life. His father, who lived through the first 18 years of Anthony’s life but lived no longer.

It was a sobering thought to realize that he would have to live longer than he knew the man he looked up to his whole life.

And it was these thoughts that plagued him.

“He has been on my mind,”he murmured but he knew she would understand, “I wonder if he is proud of me.”

“Of course he is.” She had said the words with such surety, it was difficult to argue with her. But Anthony would certainly try.

“How can you be so sure?”

She gave him a leveling stare, as if he was an idiot for even asking such a question. “I never had the pleasure of meeting him, but I know he is proud of you, as proud of you as I am.” Y/N placed a hand on his cheek, the pads of her finger soft against his stubble. “How can he not be, when you have done right by your siblings? By your mother? How can he possibly feel anything but pride at his eldest son for taking care of his whole family?”

“I make such a mess of things.” He frowned. His thoughts weren’t always so desolate, not since he married Y/N. It was difficult to keep his countenance bleak when he was married to the kind of person who smiled at a family of squirrels, or grinned at the sight of a little girl giggling through the window of a shop. But today of all days, his mind strained to his faults.

But his wife, bless her, would hear none of it. “You are human, Anthony. It is in our nature to make mistakes. I am certain your father once thought his mistakes egregious but yet still, he remains great. As sure as I am of your own excellence.”

“I go days, sometimes, never thinking of him. And when I remember him again, I feel such tremendous shame and grief at having forgotten him that sometimes, I can scarcely breathe.”

Another truth, one that Anthony had been too ashamed to admit. To forget one’s father when they were alive is one thing. To do so when he was dead was another thing entirely.

Y/N’s eyes could only be described as kind. “Did you know that a person dies twice. Once, when they are well and truly buried. The second is the last time their names are ever mentioned.“

This time, it was Anthony’s turn to look at his wife in sarcasm. “This is not the reassurance you think it to be.”

But she simply gave an indulgent grin before her eyes turned serious. “I mean to say that I will never let you forget him. I will say your father’s name everyday, if I must. And one day, I will teach our children to do the same. And they will teach their children, and their children will teach their children. Edmund Bridgerton will not be forgotten under my watch.”

His heart swelled with love. It was a lofty declaration but Y/N was never one to make vows lightly. She would do it too. Y/N was relentless in the pursuit of her goals and once she set her mind on something, she did it no matter what. It’s one of Anthony’s favorite things about her and the reason why he fell in love with her in the first place.

He pressed his lips on hers. Kisses with Y/N always felt like coming alive, like an empty house suddenly having new tenants. She felt like the cool spring air turning into the summer breeze. She felt like hope and joy all at once.

When he pulled away from her, her lips were swollen, eyes twinkling. He would never take a life with her for granted, and so when he spoke, his words came from that little space in his heart reserved for Y/N that no longer trembled at the sight of death. “When I die, I shall have your name carved into my bones”

She looked at him with skepticism. “Your bones?”

“One day, in the very distant future, when my grave is found and my tombstone is missing, they will see my bones but they will say your name. I will allow the world to kill me twice but I will not let it do the same to you.”

Her eyes gleamed silver, a joyful grin pulling at her lips.

There was no declaration of love more serious, more profound, than that. For the woman who taught him to live in spite of his fear, who taught him to love because of it, he would embrace death with open arms. If only so he could meet his wife’s soul once more. Because he was certain of his need for it, as certain as his need to draw breath every morning.

They were kismet, in this life and the next.

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nikkisheep · 9 months

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To Be Alone With You (Part Two)

Anthony Bridgerton x Sharma!reader

Series Summary: Let's see, dear readers, where this journey of betrayal, lust, passion, and love take our viscount and Miss Sharma as they find their ways back to each other.

Warnings: Angst, kinda betrayal, guilty reader, proposal, sexual tension, reader stumbles upon Edmund Bridgerton's grave, Smut (oral F)

Summary: After the night of passion that was of you and the Viscount on the dock, Anthony is hit with the realization that he still planned on marrying Edwina.

Tag list: @faatxma

"I dare ask, Brother, what has gotten you to smile so much this fine morning?" Colin asked with a smirk gracing his face.

"I just happen to be in a good mood from the lovely night of sleep that I received last night." Anthony said with yet another smile.

"Could it be that our brother is actually in love with Miss Edwina now?" Benedict teased.

Anthony looked at Benedict and his smile faded at the mention of Edwina. She is a kind girl, just not who Anthony wants. At this, the Sharma sisters hurdle down the stairs in a fit of laughter as you were carrying a bucket of water and chasing your sisters down the stairs in hopes of soaking them. Instead, you slipped on your dress and Anthony raced to catch you before you had hit the floor. The other siblings including Anthony's watched as you let go of the bucket as it soars through the air and you land in Anthony's strong arms. You look at him and go to speak but the water bucket comes crashing down on the two of you, soaking you both completely. The bucket landed on Anthony's head and all you heard was a groan.

"My lord," You say as you shyfully lift the bucket off his head and his dark eyes peek under and make eye contact with you. His hair was ruined and your lady's maids were going to be upset that their hard work went to nothing because of how wet your hair was. You give him a light smile and just as you were getting one in return, Colin cleared his throat.

"Well, Miss Sharma, I am quite impressed with your entrances that you have been making." He smiled.

"I do try," You smile and give a bit of a bow.

"Please, Lord Bridgerton, do not think that we are always like this," Kate tried to reason, hoping that he wasn't mad.

"Miss Kate, you are quite fine. Nothing to worry about. I actually enjoyed the refreshing shower," Anthony laughed, a smile reaching his eyes when he looked at you rather than your sisters. His intended.

----

Another walk in the gardens, you take in the flowers. You didn't realize how long you were in the garden and where the path was taking you. You walk under a large tree and see something that looks like a headstone. You look around and then continue on your walk to the headstone.

"Edmund Bridgerton, Loving Father and Husband," You read on the stone and figured that this had to the man that Anthony always looked up to. This was his father.

You looked down at the flowers in your hands and then bent down to your knees and placed the flowers at the grave site. You were in the middle of a prayer when you heard footsteps. You stand up quickly and then turn to the sound. It was Lady Bridgerton.

"Viscountess-" you started. She lifted a hand to shush you.

"Please call me Violet, dear." She smiled sadly when she looked at the grave.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know and I-I-I wanted to pay my respects to him," You say with a smile.

"This is Edmund. He is my husband. Well, was my husband," The older woman smiled with a sad smile.

"You loved him very much. I can tell. I wish I could have met him," You try to make her feel better.

"Have I told you yet about how much Anthony looks after this family?" She asked.

You shook your head.

"He has been there for all of us after Edmund passed. He was only 18 at the time. God, the stress that fell onto that poor boy. He was holding Edmund when he died and...and I think that was the day that my little boy died. When Edmund left, so did a piece of my son." She said with tears.

"Why are you telling me this?" You ask kindly. You thought she would be telling Edwina.

"Miss Sharma, when Anthony says that he is going to do something, he does it. He says he is going to marry your sister so I wanted you to know that she is in good hands. Anthony is the best of my sons to marry her because there is nothing more important to Anthony than his word." Violet said, taking your hand.

"Violet, he loves her?" You ask with a tremble in your voice.

"I fear so and I have seen the way you look at my son." You looked up with confusion.

"Viscountess...Violet, I'm not understanding what you are talking about. I don't look at Anthony in any way."

"I saw you in the hallway earlier today," She said with a sad smile.

"Tha....That was an accident." You sputter out.

"Darling, I'm not talking about your situation or position. I'm talking about the look in your eyes. It's exactly how I used to look at Edmund." She pat your hand and then stood up to invite you back to the house. You followed her with your heart heavy and mind clouded.

---

Dinner was prepared and you were seated to the left from Anthony who was seated at the head of the table. You couldn't keep a smile when you looked at him because you saw how your sister looked at him. Like he hung the stars in the sky. Your stomach hurt with guilt of what had transpired between you last night.

"And Miss Sharma, I was wondering if you would like to maybe be a model for my paintings," Benedict said with a hopeful look in his eyes.

You smiled at the brother and nod.

"Of course, I have always wanted to be a model and to have my face and body drawn for me," You laugh a little and Benedict smiled and then blushed at you.

Kate smirked at you as she watched you interact with Benedict. You finished your drink and stood up. You turned to leave and kissed Benedict on the cheek. You smile at Violet and she smiled back. You left the room and that made Anthony fuming. Yes, he was supposed to marry your sister but he didn't want her. He wanted you.

Anthony excused himself from the table to follow you. He ran after you and he grabbed your elbow to keep you from going all the way up the stairs.

"Follow me," He said, pulling you down the stairs to his office and closing the door behind you.

"Yes, my lord?" You ask.

"I have been looking for you all day. God...being away from you has been driving me crazy," He says before moving to kiss your shoulder that was exposed. Your head falls back in bliss as you feel his lips ghost your sensitive skin that has only been touched by him.

"My lord-"

"Anthony, darling."

"But my lord, we need to stop." You moan out the last part when he sucks hard on your sweet spot.

"Call me by my name, Miss Sharma. My name is Anthony," He growls into your ear before picking you up and laying you down on his desk, papers sticking to your sweat-layered back.

You look down to see Anthony move under your dress. You start pulling the fabric over your stomach so that you could see his hair and you smile when he kissed your hand that was pulling at the fabric.

"My lord, we should stop. You are to be...married." Your back arched as his tongue made contact to your secret area that he was just last night and you moaned out his name as he ate you like a starved man. He dipped his tongue inside of you and your hand shoots to his hair and pulls harshly and he moans against your body.

"Anthony, oh god.'' You cry out as his finger starts to poke at your entrance and you were overcome by pleasure to even think about Edwina or Kate or what the mother of the man in between your gracious legs had said when her son is tasting you like this.

"Fuck, sweet girl. You taste divine," He groans against your pussy as he pumps in a finger before adding another. Your walls clamped tightly to his fingers and his mouth moved to your clit and starts to suck at it as his tongue flicks out to run over the sensitive bud there.

You reach up and grab a hold of your own breast as he ravages you in the best way. He starts curling his fingers to hook at that sweet, sweet pleasurable spot that laid deep inside you and you felt the coil in your stomach start to tighten to a painful blissful way as he looks up at you with deep, dark eyes that were blown with lust and you let go just at his stare alone.

"Cum for me, let me feel you. That's it. Be a good girl and let go for me. Let me taste you," He moans against you as he feels you gush around his fingers and onto his awaiting tongue. He drinks everything you have to offer until you have to push him away due to the over stimulation that happens due to his constant assault to your sensitive nerves.

He kisses up your body again and fixes your dress. You lean into his kisses and he whispers about how much he loves you before he helps clean you up. You hold onto him and he carefully takes you back to your room. You sigh because you know that you have to tell him that you couldn't keep doing this because he wants to marry your sister.

"My lord," You start.

"Anthony," He says.

"My lord," You try to continue.

"Why won't you call me Anthony unless we are private like we just were?" He said with a sad look in his eyes.

"Because you are not mine, my lord." You sigh before closing the door in his face.

---

The following day, you were walking with your family as everyone was ready to leave and head back to London. You were sad but as soon as you saw Anthony walking to you, a smile crossed your face.

"My lord," You give a bow.

"Miss Sharma," You think he was talking to you but when you turn to his voice again, he was on one knee in front of your sister.

"Miss Edwina, I think this has been a long time coming and I would love to have the honor of making you my wife," Anthony said before you let out a gasp as he opened the ring box. It was his mother's. Edmund had given it to her and now he was giving it to Edwina.

Edwina gave a yes and kissed Anthony's cheek. Not knowing that his face was just between your legs last night and the night before. She will never know and you would sit in silence. You watched the happy couple and Kate hug them both and your mother was so happy. You smile to the couple and make eye contact with Anthony. All was said in those few seconds.

"I still want you."

#anthony bridgerton x sharma!reader #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton x reader smut #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton x reader

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softguarnere · 4 months

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Memories Feel Like Weapons

Edmund Pevensie x gn!reader

Summary: “People can be different. They can change. You’ve changed.” Gently, you use your pointer finger to hook his chin and turn his face towards you, making him look you in the eye. “You’re a good king, Edmund, and an even better man. A good brother. A good boyfriend. Everyone has forgiven you for what you did as a child.” A/N: What's up, y'all?! It's been freezing these past few days and I hate it! 🥴 So this is for all you other lovelies who are currently being plagued by SAD 🫶🏽 Also, in case it's not clear in the fic, for the purposes of the story, we're just gonna assume that reader's parents also sent them off to the country during the war to stay with the professor, that they met the Pevensie's there, and went to Narnia with them. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! ❤️ Warnings: Edmund has SAD but it's Narnia so it's never actually called that, the author is (once again) overusing commas

As interesting and as magical a place as Narnia is, you’re willing to admit that diplomatic negotiations are something that usually bore you to tears.

You try to take an interest, you really do, for Edmund’s sake. Political wheeling and dealing is his bread and butter. You’re not particularly adept at it yourself. Edmund has tried to explain the finer points to you many times, but it’s not something that you can wrap your head around. But maybe that’s just because you get too distracted thinking about how good looking your tutor is. Sometimes you raise a question or a particular point that you know he’ll jump to answer just to see how passionately he talks about his favorite subject. As far as you know, he hasn’t caught on yet.

Today proves to be different, though.

A chill in the air greets you when you awake. A crackling sound from the corner tells you that a servant has crept in at some point and started a fire in the hearth to stave off the cold. Blinking to adjust your eyes to the light, you’re greeted by the type of cold, white sunlight that announces a wintery morning and the season’s signature magical touch that often appears overnight – snow.

You leap out of bed, gasping when your feet kiss the cold floor. Hurrying to put on slippers, you wrap yourself in a fluffy robe and hurry to the door.

Edmund hates the winter. He hates the snow even more. No one can blame him for that. But you’re the only person he’s confessed this to.

Sure, his siblings might suspect as much. Those first few years in Narnia, no one dared suggest that they play in the snow whenever it arrived, for fear of what it might imply, and for fear of inadvertently upsetting the youngest Pevensie brother. After a few more years, he would find excuses to be tucked away in his library on snowy days, and no one would breathe a word of the fun they had without him while he was around. A delicate subject and a fine dance around it, to say the least.

It was only last winter that Edmund confided in you, and only because you had recently become a couple. He said the winter was hard enough on its own, but the snow brought back too many bad memories, ushered in nightmares so vivid that he sometimes woke up questioning what was real and what wasn’t.

This is going to be a rough day for him, to say the least. Which puts a damper on the mood, since ambassadors from a nearby kingdom are arriving to negotiate trade – something he was so looking forward to.

“Edmund?” Your voice seems too loud for the quiet library, and the echo makes you flinch slightly at the loudness of your own voice, at the desperate quality it holds.

Stepping further inside the room, you listen, and tune into the crackling of the fireplace along the far wall. You follow it until you can see the chairs in front of it, and in one of them, Edmund, slumped over a large tome, asleep.

He’ll have a crick in his neck from sleeping that way, you think. If you hadn’t known why he was here, finding him in his favorite place like this would be sweet. It still tugs on your heartstrings, yes, but in a different, heavier way.

“Edmund?” You gently shake his shoulder before stepping back.

The Just King startles awake, his book slipping out of his lap. His eyes are wide and wild as they flick across the room, struggling to make sense of his surroundings. Finally, they land on you and soften. “(Y/N)?”

“Good morning, sleepy head,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light, casual. “If you say that your neck doesn't hurt after sleeping like that, then you’re a liar.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The painful popping noises that echo from his spine say otherwise, but you let it go. Slowly, he rises, stretches, and then takes a step closer to you and plants a kiss on your forehead. He sighs through his nose. “Today is the day.”

You slip your hand into his, intwine your fingers. “How are you feeling?”

Edmund shrugs. His relationship with his siblings has improved leaps and bounds in all the years that they’ve spent in Narnia, but sometimes he still hesitates to show certain emotions around them, to express himself the way he should. Sometimes it’s easier when it’s just the two of you in a space like this where he’s comfortable.

“I’ll manage.”

“If you’re not feeling up to it – “

He squeezes your hand. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a day that I have to get through.”

“Spring will come again,” you assure him, using the mantra that you often whispered to comfort him through last year’s winter season.

“And we will greet it with open arms and grateful hearts,” he finishes. He attempts a smile, but it looks more strained than usual. “Don’t worry, darling. Everything will be fine.”

. . .

It is almost immediately not fine.

The ambassadors arrive in all their splendor. Fine fabrics and shimmering jewels assure that no one can take their eyes off them as they enter the hall and approach the five thrones. They bow to Peter in the center, to Susan and Lucy on his left, then to you and Edmund on his right. Servants carry golden trunks behind them. They have come to these diplomatic negotiations bearing gifts in the most literal sense.

Though you will all retire to a separate chamber for the actual negotiations, the gift giving is a public affair for the whole court to witness. And because it’s so formal, it’s rather slow.

Strong weapons forged of foreign metals are gifted, followed by clothes of their country’s latest fashions, and small samplings of food for each of you, a different dish for you each to try based on what the ambassadors have heard about you.

Thank goodness you’re a good actress, because the ambassadors seem to think that you really do seem excited to try the food in the bejeweled silver container that they gift to you. In reality, you’re trying your hardest not to grimace at the unfamiliar looking treats inside of it, and trying hard not to become preoccupied wondering if the taste will be as . . . unique as the smell that emits from them.

“And finally, for King Edmund,” one of the ambassadors says with a bow before presenting a silver container to Edmund with a flourish. “I have heard a rumor that you are quite fond of these.”

Thankful for a distraction from the gift in your own hands, you turn your attention to Edmund. Sitting beside him, you are in full view of the show that his siblings are not. You can see the rosy color, the powdered sugar. The Just King’s smile immediately falters. Strong hands clamp the container shut before anyone else has the chance to see what’s inside – Turkish Delight.

For a moment there is nothing but silence, the labored sound of Edmund drawing a breath. It goes on just long enough that his siblings glance at him. Only then does Edmund seem capable of forcing himself to smile, to nod, to thank the ambassador for such a thoughtful gift. If his siblings sense that something might be wrong, they don’t even know the half of it.

Because what has just happened, really? Is this a slight on behalf of the other country’s rulers? Or do they genuinely have no clue the implications of their actions?

As the exchanging of the gifts comes to a close, Edmund coughs into his fist, clears his throat. Does it again. He thumps the flat of his palm against his chest.

Peter turns to him. “Are you alright?”

“I think I just require a bit of fresh air, if you’ll excuse me for a moment,” Edmund replies. He says it far too quickly, and he uses the excuse to dismiss himself from the hall. The silver container that holds the Turkish Delight has been abandoned, left behind on his throne.

It takes everything in you not to race after him, to follow him, to make sure that he’s okay. Instead, you’re stuck helplessly glancing between the doorway that he’s disappeared through and the ambassadors who won’t seem to shut up.

Finally, the niceties end. The other king and queens of Narnia begin to migrate into a separate chamber with the ambassadors to begin the negotiations.

Quickly, quietly, you catch Lucy by the sleeve of her dress and lean in close to her ear. “I’ve got to go find Edmund,” you whisper. “I’m worried about him.”

Lucy’s eyes go wide, but she holds her composure under the watchful eyes of the court and the visiting representatives. “I’ll cover for you,” she whispers back.

As one of the five Narnian monarchs, you don’t technically need anyone’s permission to leave – except maybe Peter’s, since he’s the High King. Still, you’re the only one who’s not a Pevensie sibling, which can sometimes be a little isolating. Knowing that Lucy has your back boosts your confidence as you slip away, heading for the nearest place that you think Edmund might have disappeared to.

A quick search reveals that he’s not in the library. Or the armory, or any of his usual haunts. As a last resort, you duck into his bedroom, and it’s there that you find him, standing before the hearth, staring into the flames. His hand holds the place on his side where the White Witch stabbed him on the battlefield, though the gesture seems absentminded.

“Ed?” You make your voice soft so as not to startle him.

He looks up, eyes wide, surprised anyway – and hurt.

You don’t waste time asking if he’s okay. Instead, you cross the room to meet him in front of the fire. “Oh, Edmund.”

He doesn’t bother lying and saying that he’s fine. That’s how you know it’s bad. When Edmund Pevensie goes quiet, retreats within himself, it means that he’s truly wounded. This is something deep inside of him that aches, that rots.

Not knowing what to do, you take a seat on the rug in front of the hearth. You’re careful not to touch him, trying to offer him the space if he needs it. But he follows your lead and takes a seat, too, which seems like a good sign.

For a while, neither of you speaks. You just sit near each other, staring into the fire. Edmund looks very numb when he finally says, “I didn’t mean to leave like that. I just . . . panicked.”

“No one blames you.”

“Seeing that stupid Turkish Delight – “ He shudders. “I can’t figure out if it was a poor choice given with good intentions, or if it was a slight on my honor, a reminder of what I did.” He frowns. “I suppose to some people I’ll never be Edmund the Just – I’ll only ever be just Edmund, The Traitor.”

“No,” you protest. Space be damned; you grab his hand in yours and squeeze it, like that gesture can also grab his attention, infuse the meaning of what you’re about to say to him so that he cannot ignore it. “Edmund, you’ve changed. You’re not a traitor.”

“Anymore.”

“People forget that I was there, too,” you remind him. “I tried to follow you to Jadis’ castle.”

“That was different. You were trying to stop me from betraying my family.” His brow furrows at the memory. “So I shoved you into a snowbank and ran off without you. And then you went back to Beaver’s the help the others. (Y/N) the Loyal,” he employs the epithet that Aslan gave you, but you can’t be sure why. Because of what you did then? Because you’re here with him now?

“People can be different. They can change. You’ve changed.” Gently, you use your pointer finger to hook his chin and turn his face towards you, making him look you in the eye. “You’re a good king, Edmund, and an even better man. A good brother. A good boyfriend. Everyone has forgiven you for what you did as a child.”

Edmund shakes his head. “But they haven’t forgotten. And I can’t, either, if I’m being honest.” He doesn’t meet your eye when he confesses, “It haunts me, the memories. Every winter.”

“No. But you can do something else.” You pause to make sure that you have his full attention when you make your suggestion. “You can forgive yourself.”

Edmund blinks. As smart as he is, it seems like the thought has never occurred to him before now.

“It doesn’t have to be now,” you assure him. “It’s not an instantaneous thing. Just . . . something to work on. A project. An ongoing one.”

Silence falls between you again as he turns back to the fire. It takes a few moments before he nods, the light shining off his dark hair and his crown.

“I’ll work on it,” he says, resolved. He turns back to you, and when he speaks again, his voice is so unsure, so timid, that you have the sudden urge to hold onto him with one arm and use your other to draw your sword and fend off anything or anyone in the world who might come near and cause him harm. “Can you help me do it?”

You nod. “Of course.”

“Thank you,” he clears his throat, shakes his head. “I’m going to need more than my own forgiveness for being late to these negotiations.” He makes no move to get up. His gaze wanders across the room, as if seeing it for the first time, before landing on the window and studying the portal to the frozen, white world beyond it.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t feel up to it.” Then, trying to lighten the mood, you bump your shoulder against his. “I’m sure Susan and Lucy ganging up on the ambassadors will give them a run for their money.”

Edmund chuckles, settles back on the rug. “Good, because I honestly don’t think I can look into the eye of a person who tried to give me Turkish Delight without hitting him over the head with my sword.”

Even though you’re in a relationship, it’s maybe the most vulnerable that Edmund has ever been with you. He places his head in your lap and stares into the hearth as you card your hands through his dark locks.

“Spring is coming soon,” he mutters, his voice heavy with the sleep that’s trying to catch up with him. “Maybe then I can start over . . . Would be nice to not have to worry about freaking out over a bad gift and embarrassing myself in front of the whole court.”

“Spring will come again,” you remind him, voice soft in case he’s already dropped off to sleep. “And we will greet it with open arms and grateful hearts.” Then, for good measure, you add a new line to aid you through your latest challenge. “And it will allow us to start over.”

#Edmund can have SAD - as a treat #edmund pevensie #narnia imagine #narnia fanfiction #narnia x reader #edmund pevensie x reader #my writing

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promptthebear · 1 year

Note

Hi, I would love if you could just tell me anything you think about Edmund Pevensie 🧺 literally could be anything I just want to hear your thoughts ❤️

💗Edmund Pevensie Fluff Alphabet💗

A/N: Okay so I know I’ve been doing like all the alphabet templates lately but honestly they’re a lot of fun for me and people seem to enjoy them so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

CW: I don't think there is anything for this? It's fluff, so not much in terms of triggering content. The reader is female and referred to as Edmund's wife and queen.

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

For Edmund, I think he’d admire someone who’s smart, has a strong moral compass but isn’t so rigid that they can’t see the grey areas, and a good sense of humour is a must.

Ultimately, I don’t think he’d set out intentionally looking for a partner to rule Narnia with him but he’d end up choosing someone with those qualities subconsciously. His sense of duty to Narnia is just too strong to avoid that.

It would start off in small ways, he’d tell you about some messy political issue he’s working out and want to know your hypothetical opinion on the matter. He’d also bring up lots of philosophical subjects casually, and maybe even ask if you’ve engaged with any Narnian legal texts.

You don’t have to have a highly educated background to impress Ed or keep his affections, but he would appreciate if you listened and tried to contribute. At the very least you can act as a sounding board for his ideas, even if you wouldn’t be comfortable ruling in your own right. Someone who’s going to brush his concerns aside and accuse him of bringing down the mood or interrupt the conversation to focus on more frivolous topics isn’t going to be a good fit. You need to do at least a little bit of thinking to keep up with Edmund, he’s going to want a stimulating conversation now and again.

However you also can’t be so stuffy that Ed can’t joke around with you. Our boy may not be the little shit he once was, but he needs a partner who can see the funny side to things especially when he’s dealing with anything heavy. Humour is his primary coping mechanism, and if you don’t understand that then it’s not going to work out.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Edmund’s not really a superficial kind of guy. I think he’s more concerned about what you’re like as a person that what you’re like physically. However, I can also see him being a sucker for someone who smiles a lot and has pretty eyes. We already know, he’s a jokester and if you look extra nice every time he makes your face light up, well that’s just an added bonus.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

I can see him liking having his partner’s head on his chest while he’s got an arm around their waist or shoulder. He also likes being the big spoon, I have a personal head canon that he grew up lanky as fuck so it’s easier that way regardless.

Generally Edmund likes feeling as though he can protect and guard his partner, that’s what happens when you’ve been king since age 10. But, sometimes he’s tried and in those rare moments of vulnerability he’s going to want to put his head in your lap for awhile. When he gets like this I’d also advise rubbing his back or stroking his hair, he’ll melt in seconds.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

To me, Edmund’s always been a bit more of an introvert and what he likes to do for dates reflects that. He’s not the type to throw a massive party or feast just so he can be your escort to it. He’s much more likely to arrange a private picnic somewhere on the grounds, or take you out for a ride with Phillip on a trail with nice scenery or to a play put on by a local performing troupe.

It’s not that he won’t take you to tournaments and things like that. He loves having you on his arm and showing you off to the public, but it’s exhausting being King Edmund all the time. If you want to really get to know him, take him up on those quiet, simple dates. He’ll be much more relaxed and you’ll have a lot more fun too.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

Oh goodness, I think this really depends on when and how Edmund meets you. If you’ve known him since childhood, you’re going to get the full range without a lot of filters. Ed would know that you know him too well to try and hide anything, and he’s always been the type to speak his mind even if he’s gotten more pragmatic about it.

If the two of you meet for the first time when you’re both grown and he’s been ruling for awhile, you’re going to get a lot of King Edmund at first. That includes all the performative bull crap that comes with the title.

He’s going to be all smiles and up for a friendly chat, but still somehow very aloof and every answer he gives is couched in pragmatism so you don’t really know what he’s thinking about certain topics. To the rest Narnia, he’s their grinning, boyish King. But if you’re close enough you can see, the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, they’re flat and empty or even a little sad sometimes.

If this is the scenario, Ed probably won’t really let you in until the two of you are married or officially courting. It’s just too much of a risk, he’s got his people to think of and they need to know they’re in the hands of a strong leader. There’s no place for insecurity or vulnerability on the throne.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

Honestly, the answer to this is yes and as soon as possible. When the two of you are married, Edmund would want to start trying for a baby right away. Or, if a biological child isn’t possible, then looking into some options to foster or adopt.

Unfortunately for Edmund, being a dad is kind of a deal breaker. If you don’t want kids yourself I can’t really see him wanting to commit to you long term. And there’s a couple reasons for this.

The first is, personally, that he really wants to be a father. He’s wanted this ever since their first visit to Narnia after his own family got him back from Jadis. In that moment he understood the blessing of the love he’s been given and as he got a bit older, he wanted to share that love with a family of his own.

The second reason is the Prophecy from the first book. There was never an addendum about what would happen if there were no longer human rulers in Narnia, but I can see Edmund doing a lot of research about it anyway. In the end, he’d probably decide it was better safe than sorry for him and Peter to have a few children each to act as heirs.

Somewhere in Edmund’s heart, he’s always been a bit paranoid about Jadis coming back. Not because he’s worried about himself or being tempted by her again, but more so because of what she promised to do to Narnia and the people he cares about if she ever got the chance. Making sure there’s always going to be Pevensies on the throne is just added security against that.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

So with Edmund, I feel like he’s the type to prefer a little, meaningful gift over a big, expensive sort of gesture and his own habits around gifts reflect that.

Yes, he’ll go out of his way for major occasions like birthdays, anniversaries and Christmas. But the rest of the year, you can expect little surprises from Edmund. The next book in the series you were reading just because, maybe a sachet of your favourite tea the next time he goes to market. He’s also not very artistic, but I can see him writing you love notes and giving those to you as gifts. He’d put lots of effort into those, with fancy paper and flourishing letters and coloured inks.

When it comes to getting presents from you, Edmund would just absolutely die from happiness if you made him something. It doesn’t have to be big or fancy or even well made. He’d accept a woven bookmark you cobbled together from scraps of ribbon or thread and treat it like it’s his most precious treasure. Just the idea that you cared enough to try and also made something that’s specially for him that nobody else has, it would make his heart soar. Also you can bet he’s going to be showing off whatever it is you made to anyone within earshot for ages afterwards.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

All the time lol.

With Edmund being King, the two of you don’t have a lot of privacy and PDA is generally frowned upon. Holding hands is the most acceptable way Edmund can show his love for you in front of everyone.

If the two of you are watching a tournament, he’ll reach for your hand and bring it over to rest on his leg with his own hand on top. If the two of you are rubbing elbows with courtiers at a ball or feast, he’s going to be holding your hand the entire time. If you’re sitting next to each other in the throne room and listening to appeals or the like, Edmund’s going to be holding your hand.

In part, it’s because he wants to show the two of you as a united front to the rest of the world. It’s also because he finds your touch soothing and it can ground him when things get out of control. If you find he’s getting a bit overwhelmed, maybe his shoulders start tensing or his jaw clenches, just give his hand a squeeze. You’ll see the anxiety leave him in seconds, and he’ll squeeze your hand back to let you know he understands what you’re trying to say. You’re here, you love him, and it’s going to be okay.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Burn the whole world to the gr-

I’m kidding I promise. But if you get hurt, oh boy, everyone watch out.

With you, Edmund is going to be the gentlest, most anxious man. He’s going to want to take a look at the wound himself even with the best doctors available. He’ll be reading up on treatments both magical and mundane, herbal remedies, all of it. Anything he thinks may help or ease your pain.

Be prepared for lots of fussing, tea and massages if you’re sore. There’s also probably going to be times where you glance up and see Ed watching you with this puppy dog kind of look, and you know he’s worrying about you AGAIN even if you’re on the mend. Try to be patient and reassuring, he just loves you and doesn’t want to lose you.

When it comes to the person who hurt you, however? All bets are off. Edmund is THE definition of “looks like a cinnamon roll, could actually kill you”. Whoever hurt you better PRAY that you or Ed’s siblings are there to pull him off or they’re in for the beat down of their life. He’s been Peter’s second in fights for years and while he doesn’t usually start them, he knows plenty well how to finish them.

Expect at some point for Edmund to leave your sickbed, saying he has “something that needs his attention” only to come back to you with a split lip and bruised knuckles. If you press him for an explanation, he’ll play coy and act like he’s got no clue what you’re talking about. Whoever hurt you, IF they survive or aren’t run out of the kingdom on a rail, won’t so much as look in your direction ever again. You’re Edmund’s queen, and so long as you walk in Narnia you’ll be protected as such.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

Oh my god have you MET this man???

Edmund is mischievous to a fault, he never quite grew out of that smart aleck streak of his and now it’s your problem.

You can expect everything from foolishness like swapping the salt and sugar for your tea to more elaborate schemes that he’ll drag his siblings into. There was probably more than one incident involving some minor spells that backfired and caused more chaos than they were worth. Ie. Edmund finds someone to cast a glamour that makes him have a crow’s head or something so he can jump out and scare you. It works a treat, but then he discovers that he still SOUNDS like a crow hours after the physical glamour wore off and he’s got to give an official speech to the council like WHOOPS.

He is also the KING of snark, sarcasm and inside jokes. The two of you are going to have a whole litany of nonsense that will send you into giggle fits but just confuse everyone else. Edmund also loves to make you laugh at moments that are maybe less than appropriate.

Peter has stopped letting the two of you sit together at any kind of serious event because you cannot behave. It’s not your fault though, Edmund keeps pulling faces and saying “Egg tart” which makes you think about that one time on that picnic with the centaurs and…okay Peter doesn’t get it but if he’d been there he’d understand why you’re giggling.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

So obviously Edmund likes giving you kisses on the mouth. He could do that for hours and never get bored. However, I can also see him enjoying giving you “courtly” kisses on the back of your hand or your knuckles. If the two of you met when you were grown ups, this is probably the first kind of kiss he ever gave you and even if it was just a social expectation, it’s still a memory Edmund cherishes. Nose kisses are also a big thing with him, but only because they make you giggle, which he loves.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

I mean first and foremost, Edmund is going to tell you he loves you about a million times a day. He’d probably be a lot like Wesley in the Princess Bride novel, where he’d be having the most mundane conversation with you like “Yes it’s supposed to rain a lot over the next fortnight so Peter wants to gather some workers and help sandbag the farmlands to avoid flooding and also I love you.” He says it pretty much any time it pops into his head.

He’d also try to show you in lots of other ways. Spending quality time is a big one since he’s busy and has so many people needing his attention. He relishes the quiet moments the two of you have together, evenings spent reading or playing chess, peaceful mornings snuggled up in bed. These don’t happen as often as he’d like, so if you suggest wanting to “stay in” on the rare occasion he does have some time off, he’ll eat the opportunity right up.

Acts of service would be another one, he wants to try and help with whatever you need. If you write poetry and need someone as a test audience? He’s your guy. If you knit and need someone to hold your yarn while you spool it? Ed’s there. Any hobbies you have, he’s going to want to want to be an active participant and barring that, he’ll be as helpful as he can.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

Honestly this is so cheesy but probably your first kiss.

If the two of you met and had an organic relationship, that memory to Edmund reflects the moment you started to belong to each other. Before that, the two of you were just friends. Close friends, but Ed always secretly hoped for more. And then with that one little action, everything changed. The two of you went from friendship to all the possibilities a new romance brings in a matter of seconds.

He thinks about it all the time, the way his heart was in his throat, the warmth in his gut when your lips met his, the pretty flush on your cheeks afterwards. He’d replay every moment leading up to the kiss too, trying to sort out exactly when you may have decided to kiss him or let him kiss you. Sometimes he gets himself all flustered and silly just thinking about it, and then he has to go and find you just so he can recreate the experience all over again.

If the two of you were in a arranged marriage though and your first kiss happened at your wedding, Edmund still treasures that memory. You were little more than strangers, but he still felt his heart skip a beat when he lifted your veil and saw you looking back up at him with bright, sincere eyes. And when he felt you kiss him back, chaste and quick as the kiss was? It was in that moment Edmund started to fall for you. Neither of you had asked to be put in this situation, yet here you were giving him your trust and kindness anyway. How could he not love someone like that???

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

I’ve talked about this a little before, but honestly for Edmund it would and always will be Jadis coming back.

He knows in his heart that he’s safe, at least. He trusts Aslan enough to know that no matter what happens, Jadis isn’t ever getting hold of him ever again. But when it comes to his family, his romantic partner and any future children he may have? Well, that’s when things get a little dicey.

As he and his family got older, they’d see Aslan less and less. And while Edmund still has a lot of faith in him, he’s also only human. When you care about people, you worry about them, and worry can lead to doubt.

He’d try to ease his anxiety by gathering any and all knowledge available on Jadis and her history with Narnia. Obviously a lot of what’s available in print has either been suppressed or destroyed, so he’s relying mainly on oral resources or archival materials related to Jadis as a secondary topic ie. anything about the Deep Magic.

This wouldn’t be an easy way to get the information he’s looking for, a lot of it is contradictory or parts of it written in languages that are no longer used. Still, Edmund would do the best he could to try and glean SOMETHING from what’s available to him. As far as he’s concerned, when it comes to your safety and the safety of his family, he will go to the ends of Narnia itself to ensure it.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

When Ed’s in love he’s…well, distracted. If he’s sparring with Peter, his brother may score a couple of easy hits Ed would normally block. Lucy might have to say his name a few times before he notices she’s trying to ask him something. Susan would find lots of abandoned teacups around the library, their contents half drunk and gone cold.

Of course, they all immediately know what’s going on and will tease him relentlessly. Or rather Peter and Lucy will do it openly, while Susan insists she wouldn’t stoop to such lows but really she’s just more subtle about it.

I imagine the conversation going a little something like this. Lucy would say Edmund’s name several times in succession but he’s staring out the window or into the fireplace at the fire, clearly off in his own world. Peter would go “Never mind, Lu, I’ll take care of it” followed by “Oh HELLO Y/N”

Edmund would immediately snap to attention, turning to face the doorway with bright and eager eyes. Peter and Lucy of course dissolve into giggles, which makes Edmund huff and cross his arms. Susan would try and scold them for picking on Edmund, but she’s smiling too so it doesn’t really have the desired effect.

This all comes from a place of love, of course, but Ed also knows he is NEVER going to live it down.

When it comes to you and realizing Ed has a crush on you depends on how well you can read people in general. If you’re perceptive enough, you might pick up on it. If not, he’s going to be the same Edmund as always. I can’t see him really being the type to flirt or try to seduce you, at most you’ll see him more often.

Like he’s suddenly just around a lot more and while you can’t place your finger on why, that doesn’t mean you aren’t happy to see him either. Despite you knowing how busy he is, he magically has all the time in the world where you’re concerned.

Planning to go to the market later? He’ll tag along. Want to take a trail ride? He’s there. Need something off a high shelf? Oh look here comes Ed just in time. He’s 100% blowing off royal duties and the like to be with you, but don’t worry too much about it. If Peter catches you two, Edmund’s the one who’s going to be in trouble anyway.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

Probably just the typical stuff. Darling, sweetheart, dear, dearest, love. The only one I can kind of see being different for him is beloved if the two of you have been married for awhile, and probably only if you’re either very upset and need comfort or if the two of you have been…doing what married couples do lol.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship

With Edmund, I feel like the most beneficial “quirk” he has is his ability to negotiate and work through arguments.

Is this more of a slowly acquired skill than a quirk? Yes, but you can’t deny it isn’t both incredibly helpful and also sometimes incredibly annoying.

If you’re the type who wants to argue to blow off steam, Ed is going to drive you up the wall. When you come at him, sassing off and ready to GO, he’s not going to match your energy. Instead, he’s going to be calm and reasonable which will probably just piss you off more but he’s going to keep being so rational which will in turn just amp you up but again he refuses to give you the reaction you want which just makes you angrier and...well, you get the idea.

You're probably going to want to take up some kind of athletic hobby if this is you, like sword fighting or something along those lines. Trust me, it'll be much easier to take out your frustrations on a training dummy then it would be to goad Ed into getting angry with you. Better yet, go rattle Peter's cage a bit. He's always down for a good ol' fashioned argument or snark off, plus there's the added entertainment value for Edmund.

If you aren't the confrontational sort though? Well, the two of you are going to be perfect together. Edmund is an excellent communicator, he won't ever raise his voice to you and is generally pretty good at keeping emotion out of the equation so he can consider every aspect of the problem. Whether this is an issue that involves the two of you directly, or a problem you're having with someone else, Edmund will help walk you through it.

Please go to him when you're all worked up, he loves nothing more than to help you and has mastered telling someone to go fuck themselves in a way that still sounds polite. With him on your side, you'll never lose an argument ever again...except maybe sometimes to him lol. But again, he states his point so well and so sensibly that you don't find yourself minding too much either.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

I almost wasn't going to do this one because CS Lewis never actually published any music that exists within the Narnia universe, unlike say GRR Martin or Tolkien. HOWEVER, I am also extremely stubborn, a former English major and a choir kid at heart. This means I have a weirdly expansive knowledge of English and Celtic folk songs, and I finally settled on this one.

Now, obviously this is a modern recording (from 1996) BUT this is an old af song, and it sounds like to me that it would be sung around Narnia as a folk ballad because why not?

I figure your connection to Edmund through this song is because the both of you have heard the other one humming it on some occasion. Then, one day, maybe before the two of you get together, Edmund drops a yellow apple into your lap.

You didn't ask him for it, and he didn't say anything about giving it to you. Suddenly, there it was sitting on the open pages of your book or atop your embroidery or something. And you look up at him, and he gives you that wry smile that makes him look like a boy again, and you just know. This is his overture, his way of telling you he loves you without actually saying outright lest you break his heart. And you take a bite of that yellow apple, and it's so sweet and crisp and perfect, and from then on, that's who Edmund was to you. Fresh apples, chaste kisses and ballads hummed softly on warm, sunny afternoons.

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

Give it time, and there won't be a lot Edmund hides from you. Lying and keeping secrets has gotten him in trouble before, and he's sworn he's never going back. He realizes now, that honesty is the best policy and needing help doesn't make him weak. Plus, if you've been together for long enough you'll be able to read him so well he won't have much luck hiding things from you anyway.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

I think it depends on the situation, really.

If the two of you grew up together, well, years in that case. The two of you were always very affectionate, but it didn't turn romantic until the two of you were in your late teens. In that particular situation, falling in love was just the natural next step. It's familiar, cozy, and nobody is surprised when Edmund announces he intends to court you officially. That courting period is also really just a formality, your family always knew you were going to end up with Edmund from the first time he came to visit.

If the two of you have an arranged marriage however? Well, that's going to change things. Did you want to get married? Do you actually like Edmund at first or did you get a poor first impression? Do you have an old love you're still holding a torch for? These are all going to influence how your relationship with Ed goes past the wedding. Depending on any of these factors, you could be looking at anything from six months to a few years.

Proximity would really be key in deciding how that relationship plays out. Edmund probably knows the chances of romantic love happening instantly in a romantic relationship are slim to none. But he hopes to be friends at least, you're stuck with each other so why not make the best of it? He isn't looking for anything else, but he's also such a charming, sweet man that in the end you probably couldn't help yourself.

After being around him for so much time, you'd eventually ease into loving him properly. From then on, the charade you have for the court as a married couple stops being a charade and becomes a little glimpse for everyone into what the relationship actually is behind closed doors. All it takes is the right spark for this to eventually blossom into a full blown romance.

If the two of you meet when you're grown and form a relationship without the pressure of impending matrimony, then that's what's going to have the shortest amount of time between when you first meet and when you become a couple. Edmund would make his intentions clear within a couple of months of knowing you, and from there a typical courting period would follow.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

Hugs. So many hugs. Anyone remember that scene in Zootopia where Judy walks over to Nick and bumps her head against his chest while she's crying? That's Edmund. You can work out the details later. At first, his main priority is going to be to hold you close and put himself between you and whatever's got you so worked up. He won't mind in the least if you want to cry on him either. If anything, that just makes him squeeze tighter with maybe a few "It's alright, love" or "I'm heres" murmured into your hair.

Once you've calmed down a bit, then he's ready to listen. Just pour your heart out to him, he won't miss a single detail and he'll be sure to help you work through any problem no matter how convoluted or insignificant it seems. He will also probably get someone to bring you some tea or make a cup himself while you're filling him in. What can I say? The English are like us Maritimers in that aspect, nothing can't be fixed with a good, warm cuppa.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

Edmund's proud of a few things, even if he's a little more subtle about them. His family, for one. He loves his siblings so much and every accomplishment of theirs is worth celebrating no matter how small.

He's also very proud of his kingdom. Narnia is his home, his salvation and his joy. He wouldn't be who he is without it, and he wants you to try and understand that the best you can. Expect to go on lots of trips to little out of the way wonders you didn't even know about, and lots of scenic locations on dates. Admire each and every inch with Edmund, from local folk festivals to sunsets to fields of wildflowers. There's nothing about this country he doesn't love, and the only thing better than experiencing it on his own is with you.

Edmund would also love showing you off. Whether you dress up or are just going casual for the day, he wants everyone to see you. To admire your beauty the way he does. The only thing he loves more than Narnia is you, and damned if he's going to rest until the world realizes it. Expect him to take you to lots of council meetings, political events and the like.

They may not involve you in the slightest, in fact you may sit there the whole time knitting or writing or sketching and not paying much attention, but that's okay. Edmund just wants you there for moral support and also again, so everyone can have a look at you. Each subtle touch to his arm, each whisper in his ear or kiss on his cheek. He relishes those little moments because it shows everyone he belongs to the most amazing woman in the world.

Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

Edmund really, really doesn't want you fighting. He's seen the mess war makes, and wants you as far from that as possible. However, if you can hold your own in battle, then he'll at least concede once he witnesses it for himself. From then on, he's happy to fight alongside you, maybe even listing you as his second in tournaments, not that anyone can ever beat him lol.

If you're not the fighting type, however, then Edmund makes it his personal mission to be your knight in shining armour. Expect him to ask for your favour when he goes to fight or joust in tourneys or before going to battle. He may not want you anywhere near the bloodshed, but having those little reminders of what he's fighting for means he's all the more likely to come back to you in one piece.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

So very well. Good luck keeping secrets, because this man will be able to read you with a glance. This comes from Edmund's own pragmatic nature, as well as the fact that he needs to be able to read a room moments after entering. If you're even the least bit on edge, Ed will be pulling you aside for a quiet moment and won't rest until he gets to the bottom of things.

He'd also know you're pregnant the second you're sure of it yourself. All it would take is the slightest shift in your expression or the way you carry yourself, and boom, that's it. He'd be asking you about your health and baby names and won't leave well alone until you tell him. Like I said, good luck keeping secrets. He's clever and stubborn, not a winning combination for someone you're trying to hide things from.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

So with Edmund, I feel like there are two different proposals.

The first is going to be your private proposal. It may involve a ring, it may not. Case in point, Edmund is going to try and have quiet moment with you to ask before all the chaos that comes with a royal wedding beings.

He may take you to the spot where you had your first date, or arrange a special dinner or even just do it in the comfort of your own chambers. He'll probably either light some candles or get jars of fireflies or make use of some naturally bio-luminescent plants that grow around for mood lighting.

He'd probably also wrap a blindfold around your eyes or have you cover them before guiding you in. He's surprised you with things before, but you'd really have no idea what he's planning until you open your eyes or take the blindfold off and see him kneeling in front of you.

He wouldn't even be able to get the whole question out before you're down there with him, exclaiming "Yes, yes! Of course I will!" I between the many, many kisses you're giving him. If he gets a ring, it'll probably be a very simple silver band he had one of his dwarven friends make for you. You'll get a fancier, bejewelled ring later on when things are officially announced, but again Edmund still wants you to have something that's just for the two of you to share before the whole kingdom gets involved.

The formal proposal would come later, which would be a big ceremony with all the fanfare and everyone invited, royal, noble or otherwise. You'd be standing next to Edmund in front of the four thrones when he makes the announcement. A raucous cacophony of cheers would follow, the sound so loud you can feel it reverberating in the hollows of your collarbones.

This would be the one and only time anxiety would set in, because you'd realize that this means you aren't just going to be Edmund's wife, but a Queen of Narnia. However, before you can start to spiral Edmund would give your hand a squeeze, and your mind quiets. In spite of your doubts, he believes in you and your ability to rule alongside him. That and his love is more than enough to keep you going.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

Spending time with you, his family, any children you may have together. Going for trail rides with you, or practising his swordplay.

It isn't often Edmund actually panics or gets stressed. He and Susan are the most clear headed of all their siblings. They're more likely to think or talk things through then they are to submit to blind emotion.

However, Edmund is only human, and sometimes the weight of the world literally gets to be too much. In those rare moments, he wants nothing more than to seek out the things that ground him and make him feel like a normal man.

If he suddenly gets very sooky and cuddly with you out of nowhere, or pulls you and the children away from what you're doing to go on a sudden day trip or you find him hacking away at a training dummy at odd hours? Check in with him. Odds are there's something bothering him, and he's trying to seek out support from you without worrying you directly.

#easter askbox event #edmund pevensie x reader #Edmund pevensie imagines #Narnia imagines #edmund pevensie

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needsmth · 1 year

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Hey! I’m KINDA new here so Idk how it works? But Anyway could i request a Edmund x g/n reader. Where there’s a storm and Edmund is looking for reader beacuse he’s worried, and finally he finds them in the middle of courtyard just to see them having the best time of their life running dancing spinning and enjoying the weather? (i like to Imagine that at that moment he would think something like "I wanna be theirs” iykyk)

If it’s not a problem ofc! And thank you <333

Thank you so much omg!! I loved writing this one and I look forward to getting to know you more :)

A disclaimer to all the others reading though, the reader will identify as she/her as I'm not very good at writing with non-binary pronouns. I deeply apologise.

Also, I highly recommend that you read this with the song 'Lovers Rock' by TV Girl. It just fits the mood and I swear you won't regret it <3

!! WARNINGS !!

- slight cussing (literally just one swear word)

- tooth-rotting fluff :p

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Edmund is not worried, alright? In fact, he's been feeling himself as of late. But that's the problem. He's only been feeling himself when she's around.

And yes, there's very heavy rain today so there's plenty of reason to worry. Especially since Lucy last recalled seeing his best friend in the courtyard, which, he'd gladly remind to anyone, is open-air.

And no, he's definitely not speeding down the long, pristine hallways of Cair Paravel towards the courtyard. He simply isn't. He's just... Walking at a faster pace.

Edmund pays no mind as he passes the meeting room, the throne room, his own bedroom. That's not important right now.

When he reaches the steps that lead to the courtyard, he takes note of the very heavy rain. (Susan, being the most helpful person in the world says there is probably a high chance of lightning striking.)

Edmund eyes at his navy blue silk and cream-coloured linen outfit and then back to the rain. 'Fuck it,' he thinks, stepping out into the unmerciful rain that instantly ruins his hair and clothes.

Never mind that, he needs to find her.

His dress-boots stomp against the slosh that was grass and tried avoiding puddles as best as he could. Lord knows what Peter would say to him later.

The young king shakes his mind off his older brother. Not the time, he reminds himself.

Now that he's finally here in the courtyard himself, he realises how much he's never spent his time here. (A bad situation to be finally realising this, but oh well) He made up his mind on how he's going exploring again when he's not in such a state and when the fields are dry and the sun is peeking from the sky.

He continues wandering for a good three minutes before noticing the spin of a light-pink dress in the distance.

His dark eyes widen, little specks of hope visible in the irises. He rushed to where he saw it, and there you were.

But instead of the cold, wet, miserable you that he'd previously imagined, it was actually quite the opposite.

You twirled yourself around, his presence to you unknown. Your eyes were closed, but your smile shone just as bright. Occasionally, Edmund would hear a little laugh from you, an indication of the fun you were having.

His eyes widen again, but instead of surprise, it's filled with cheeky, malicious intent.

Tip-toeing quietly so you don't hear him, (although the rain made it hard to hear anything, really) his strong arms wrap around your waist, enveloping you into a hug.

You open your eyes with adrenaline, before recognising his strong jaw and milky-white skin. You laugh in relief, pulling him impossibly closer to you. When you open your eyes again, he has a handsome grin playing at his lips before he leads you to dance.

It's not like any other dance you've learned to teach yourself for all the balls and parties you and the Pevensies had been invited to.

It's a ridiculous dance, really, if you think hard about it.

The way Edmund just keeps shimmying you around him and twirling you in ways you never thought he could, it's childish of him. A side he rarely shows but will always be open to you.

Although, you did recognise some of the steps from the more elegant dances, like the waltz. When asked, he smiles wistfully and replies, "Once a king, always a king."

Most of the time your laughter filled the air, only the dark clouds and trees as your witness.

Suddenly, you stop your feet from moving. Edmund catches onto this and stops as well. His hands were still very much around your wrist and on your lower back, however.

You hear each other's panting and the both of you look up to see a wide smile on the other's face.

You take the moment of silence as an excuse to drag your eyes around his lean figure, studying the way his wet hair shone (Very attractively, though you wouldn't admit it to him. Ever.)

God, she's beautiful, he thinks, oblivious to your shifty eyes and red face. Just how much I want her by my side... He continues in his head, How much I want her to be mine.

Of course, he hadn't said this out loud. That's just plain stupid.

But one day, he'll say it. He will. It's a promise.

And with the beam of your face that you make every time you see him... Oh yes, it's a promise.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Hope you enjoyed!! Special thanks to @lidlowa for requesting this in the first place. Your prompt had me kicking my feet in the air and shi.

#edmund pevensie #king edmund the just #chronicles of narnia #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie x fem!reader #fluff #fanfic #request

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alewritesfics · 2 years

Text

Always and Forever

Summary: in which Anthony looses the love of his life

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x reader

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: unedited, angst, mentions of miscarriages, more angst, angst, death, and just a lot of angst

Masterlist

So I was in the mood to cry, and I wrote this and decided to make you all cry as well

Y/n was Anthony’s love of his life.

She always has been and always will be.

They met when he was 18 after he had just graduated from Oxford. He was taking a walk around the streets of London during the social season of 1802, when a young lady stepped out of a shop he was passing by, colliding with him.

Her name was Y/n, he thought she was the most beautiful girl he had seen so far. Y/n apologized profusely, Anthony just waved her off, reassuring her that no harm had come to him.

They started talking and meeting up, they became great friends, they had lots of things in common which only strengthen their friendship. His family completely adored Y/n, as did Y/n's family feel the same with Anthony. Soon both families became close friends.

But then tragedy hit them.

Edmund Bridgerton died.

The Bridgerton family changed overnight but Y/n still stood by Anthony’s side, not letting him be alone with his grief, she was his rock through those hard times.

Anthony appreciated that. He changed, as he had to because he became the viscount at 18 years old, he had to let go of everything of the past, childishness and laughter changed to seriousness and hard work. He could not be the same careless Anthony from before, he was a viscount now and as a viscount he had to work hard to support his family.

But Y/n was the only constant thing in his life, he could never discarded her away, not after how supportive she has been, not with the feelings he had for her.

He realized he was in love with her, so when she was twenty and he one and twenty, on her debut season, and when his family was more stable, he proposed to her, Y/n was delighted and accepted and soon after, they were married.

They had a grand wedding in front of the whole ton, everyone could tell they were completely remarkably in love with each other.

Their marriage was amazing, there was not a single moment were they were not happy with each other. They spent their honeymoon at Aubrey Hall. The maids would hear laughter around the house but of course, as it was Anthony and we all know how he is, soon that laughter would turn into moans, making the maids turn red when they heard. Bit they understood, they were after all newlyweds, still in their honeymoon phase.

They would have picnics outside in the garden, enjoying a bit of sun, morning rides on their horses, spending time together in the library or in his study before retreating back to their bed chambers, or sometimes they could not even wait and just do it wherever they were.

They were happy.

Until another tragedy struck. Or the first of many more to come that is.

Y/n realized she was pregnant after they came back from their honeymoon, not a surprise really, but for her it was. Anthony and her were delighted, it was a little early, yes, but they have always wanted a family and they were going to have one with each other sooner or later, it just came earlier than expected.

They had prepared everything, made a nice little nursery room, talked about what names they would name the baby when it was born. Edmund for a boy, in honor of Anthony’s father, and Astoria for a girl, Y/n has always loved that name, and it was a bonus that it started with the letter A, they could keep up with the Bridgerton tradition. They were so excited.

It was Y/n’s 4th month when something terrible happened. She had been feeling pains in her stomach for a few days, but she only ignored it, thinking that was only some symptoms of the pregnancy.

Oh how wrong she was.

She was looking out the window when she felt the pains growing stronger, she cried out in pain, holding onto her stomach as a maid quickly entered the room, hearing her.

“My lady, is everything alright” the maid questioned

Y/n held back her tears, her face twisting in pain. She knew what was happening “I am losing my child” She said.

“I am sure that is not- my lady, you are bleeding” the maid pointed at the bottom of her dress “I will go call the surgeon immediately”

A few hours later, everyone could hear the cries all over the Bridgerton home. The cries of a mother who lost her baby.

Anthony sat on the floor outside of their bed chambers, his face buried on his knees as he listened to his wife crying inside, his own tears falling down his face.

“Anthony” His mother called out, sitting down next to him. Violet looked at him sadly, tears brimming in her eyes before she pulled him into a hug. Anthony sobbed out once he felt his mother warm embrace. “Everything will be alright”

“It is not alright, mother, we lost our child," he scoffed "my wife is in there, completely destroyed, crying her eyes out and I have no clue on what to do” Anthony sniffled

“Just be there for her, that is all you can do, offer her your support and be there to comfort her” Violet answered

Anthony lifted his head, wiping his tears while he looked up at ceiling. He stood up and turned to their closed bedchambers, he grabbed the know shakily before opening the door and entering. Tears started filling his eyes again as he saw her huddled up between the blankets.

“Love” He whispered walking closer to her. He laid down next to her and hugged her close to his body. Y/n’s cries started getting louder

“I am so sorry, Anthony” She cried out turning around to face him “ it is all my fault, I am so sorry”

He shook his head “No, no, you do not have anything to apologize for” he cut her off when he saw her open her mouth to speak “It was not your fault, okay, it just was not our time yet, it was not your fault” She continued crying

“If you really want, we will keep on trying until we get the family we desire” he offered “I love you and I will always be here for you, always and forever, love” he kissed her head and brought her once again into his chest, hugging her closer, letting her vent all her sadness, his tears falling down.

Y/n became a shell of herself the next few months, she would barely eat or sleep, she would always be inside her bedchambers, laying down on her bed , staring up at the ceiling, lost on her thoughts. And as Anthony said, he was always there for her.

He would bring her food, staying until she at least ate a bit, and at nights, he would hold her close to his chest, rubbing her back comfortingly. And slowly, Y/n felt better with each day that passed, Anthony being by her side made everything better.

The next year, Y/n was back to how she was before. She was the same cheerful, happy, loving Y/n from before. Anthony and her started trying again for a baby.

And that was when more tragedy struck.

No matter how much they tried, each time Y/n got pregnant, it only would last for 4 months or less before she miscarried. But she still held hope, that the next time will not be the same, and each and every single time, she would be disappointed when it turned out the opposite. But they still kept trying.

Y/n was in their nursery, looking out the window as she held one of the baby’s blankets, deep in thought.

“Love?” Y/n turned around to see Anthony before turning back to look out the window

“Is there something wrong with me?” She mumbled, her bottom lip trembling

“No, of course not” Anthony frowned wrapping his arms around her waist

“Then why is it, that whenever I am with child, I always lose it” She blinked back her tears “ There must be something wrong with me, that is the most logical explanation” She turned around in his arms

“There is nothing more I want, than to give you a child, Anthony” She sniffled “And it destroys me that I cannot seem to do so. I am a failure, a disappointment” She looked down

“Hey, hey, listen to me” he lifted her head towards him “ You are not a failure nor a disappointment, you are everything to me, you are the love of my life, and maybe for some reason, we are just not meant to have children and that is alright”

“I am-“

“I can see how everything is taking a toll on you” He said “We do not even have to try anymore if it is breaking you, I am more than content just by having you” he hugged her tightly

“You are all I need”

But they still kept trying for the next few years, each time a failure, until finally the year 1811, Y/n was with child once again, but this time it seemed like it was the one, she surpassed the four months and was now six months.

Although, Anthony did not know how to feel, he was happy of course, but he could not help but feel worry. The physician told them during a visit when he came to check that everything was alright with the baby, that with the amount of miscarriages she had, he could 99% guarantee that the pregnancy will be complicated, the baby could either be a stillborn, or Y/n could die considering she was already really weak from a lot of miscarriages.

“No, it will be better if you do not go on with it” Anthony said firmly

Y/n gave him a look “Anthony-“

“No, you heard the doctor, you could die from childbirth, Y/n!” He exclaimed “No, I cannot lose you”

“Anthony-“

“You are the love of my life, how on earth will I function without you if you die? I cannot, and will not allow this, you hear me” Anthony shook his head furiously

“Anthony” She caressed his face “I want to go along with it”

“What, no! You will not-“

“Anthony” Y/n huffed “ I desire nothing more than to be a mother, to give you a child”

Anthony blinked away his tears “ I cannot lose you, Y/n, it will destroy me if I lose you” his voice broke as he spoke

“And you will not” She shook her head “But I will go on with this pregnancy, I want – I desire to go on, and you will not even try to change my mind, okay?”

He looked down “Alright”

The pregnancy had gone well, they had no complications and now Y/n was about to give birth to a new Bridgerton on a cold December evening.

Maids were huddled up around her, holding blankets and bowls with warm water, the surgeon was at the end of the bed where she lay, helping her and giving her instructions.

Meanwhile, Anthony was outside, along with both families, pacing around the corridor as he heard his wife’s screams inside the room. He decided to stop pacing as he was only growing more frustrated, and stood next to his mother who grabbed his hand comfortingly.

They were stood like that for the next hour, the younger siblings had gone to Anthony’s private lodgings as they were sure the commotion would not let them sleep, Colin had gone with them, and only Violet, Anthony, Benedict, Daphne and Y/n’s family remained.

Suddenly everything went silent, after a few minutes, Anthony looked up from the floor and to the door, he walked towards the door, a bad feeling blooming in his stomach. He was almost at the door when it opened, revealing the surgeon.

“My lord, the baby has successfully been born, he is very healthy” The surgeon said before he looked at Anthony solemnly. Anthony started to breath heavier as each moment passed, his vision blurring as he already knew what he was going to announce “Sadly, your wife did not make it, she died during childbirth”

Anthony stumbled back his lips trembling, shaking his head furiously, “No, no, no, she cannot, she-“ his voice broke as he fell to the floor “No, no, y/n, no, oh my love” he started sobbing loudly

Everyone watched the scene heart broken, tears falling down their faces foo. Anthony continued crying out “Y/n, no, no, why her, god why are you so cruel”

“Anthony-“ he ignored his mother

He stood up quickly and entered the room, his eyes set on Y/n’s figure laying down, her eyes closed, and she looked peaceful. He sobbed as he sat down next to her and brought her into his lap.

“You are the love of my life, I cannot live without you, Y/n, please wake up!” He looked up at the ceiling before he screamed out in pain, holding her closer to him as he cried onto her body

“Love, come on, wake up” He cried “You cannot do this to me, Y/n, you- you- you said everything will be fine, you cannot leave me” he shook his head, laying his forehead on top of hers, caressing her face

☆☆☆☆☆

It has been 2 years after Y/n’s death.

Anthony was a little better now, he still was not over it but he had to be strong, for little Eddie.

Although it was hard to be strong when every time he looked at Eddie, all he could see was Y/n. Edmund had his mother’s eyes, and her nose and smile, god her beautiful smile, oh how much Anthony loved her smile.

Eddie was his whole world now, and he will do anything to protect their baby boy with his whole life, to make him be the best man he can be when he grows up, just as his mother made his father the best man Anthony could be.

Anthony picked up little Eddie from his cot, he smiled warmly, looking at Eddie’s face smiling up at him, his little finger coming to rest on his face.

“dada” Eddie mumbled laying his head on Anthony’s shoulder

He stopped, his eyes resting lovingly on Y/n's face. He blinked back tears before smiling. “you will always be in my heart. Always and Forever, love”

“Well look who is awake, now come on, your nana Y/m/n has come with papa, granny Violet is already with them, they are just waiting for you, they have come with lots of sweets for you” Anthony hummed as he turned to walk out of his bedchambers, his eyes caught Y/n’s portrait near the door.

Tagged:

@heyyitsreign @enjoymyloves

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bougiebutchbinch · 6 months

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The Steddyhands fix it fic is coming along nicely x

“Fuck me, Bonnet.”

“That good?” asked Stede, puffing with pride.

Izzy shot him a look that shaved at least five feet off his height. “That shit. You kiss like a ten-year-old boy pecking his nanna.”

"I - oh." Stede's face flamed, recalling that precise situation: Grandmama's powdered face, wrinkled and dry as an old dead fish, presented to him for the kissing. He hadn't wanted to - hadn't had any love spared for the old hag, as she had none for him. But Father's hand had crushed his shoulder, forcing him forwards, insisting that he greet the Bonnet matriarch properly. And so, he had pressed up on his toes, shivering beneath the old crone's hawk-like glare, and smushed his mouth into her papery skin for all of a half-second before retreating.

Alas, it hadn't been fast enough. His cheek still recalled the strong pinch of her fingers; his nose remembered the sour stench of her breath.

My, Edmund, hasn't your boy gotten chubby, she'd crooned. Like a little pig. Careful, Stede. Let yourself get too soft and round, and it'll be to the butchers with you -

"Like a guppy bouncing off the glass of its tank," Izzy continued, evidently in a rare poetic mood. "Or a monkey trying to suck up a grape with his lips, only he's already had his banana for breakfast, so he doesn't really give a shit."

Stede cleared his throat. "Thank you, Izzy."

#steddyhands #ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #stede bonnet #gentlebeard #stizzy #gentlehands #my art #bbb creates #my fic

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dancingsunflowers-ocs · 2 months

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𝗡𝗘𝗪 𝗣𝗟𝗢𝗧 𝗕𝗨𝗡𝗡𝗜𝗘𝗦

The time has once again come for me to talk about some plot bunnies!! These are some all of the plot bunnies I currently have that I haven’t really talked about much - feel free to ask me any questions you might have about them!!

Solana Corzo, Glee OC, Artie Abrams ship.

-Childhood best friend of Claudia Green, before her move to Lima.

-Loves the colour pink, Disney films, Taylor Swift and old vintage sci-fi films/tv shows.

-She basically shocks people with her smarts when everyone thinks of her as an airhead like Brittany.

-Is the only person who gets Rachel, as much to the annoyance of both Claudia and Francesca who can’t stand her.

Pedro Fernandez, Glee OC, Kurt Hummel ship.

-Revamped version of James Green.

-Has been best friends with Ariel Berry since childhood.

-Bisexual disaster and proud!!

-Barista at the Lima Bean and a student at McKinney High.

-Tough guy with a soft heart. Initially, he comes across as aggressive, socially isolated, and simply not given a break in the world.

Matilda Thorpe Wednesday OC, Enid Sinclair ship.

-Based on Matilda from the Roald Dahl book of the same name.

-Her parents are neglectful, however, her brother Xavier takes care of her and acts as a surrogate parent to her.

-She’s a telekinetic, and also has the power to manipulate written words.

-She also has quite a close familial bond with Miss Thornhill, similar to Matilda from the book’s close bond with Miss Honey… But slightly off

-Roommate, and eventually the best friend of Bianca.

-Is a huge reader, and is especially a fan of the Percy Jackson books which she gets Wednesday into.

Feyra Sherwood, The Chronicles of Narnia OC, Peter Pevensie ship.

-Is a school teacher in the 60’s/70’s flower power era.

-After losing her mom, she, her twin brother and cousin discover the world of Narnia through a portal in an old storybook when going through their mother’s belongings.

-Discovers that she has stellar manipulation powers while she’s in the fantasy world.

-She and Peter have a slow burn romance, and she eventually proposes to him with a mood ring from her era/world.

August Sherwood, The Chronicles of Narnia OC, Edmund Pevensie ship.

-Is the twin brother of Feyra Sherwood and the cousin of Joan Connelly.

-Works in the National History Museum in the 60’s/70’s era.

-Discovers with Feyra and Joan, in which he finds out he has earth/weather manipulation powers.

-When he and Edmund first met, they were both constantly bickering with each other, and were basically too stubborn to admit their romantic feelings for each other.

Joan Connelly, The Chronicles of Narnia OC, Lucy Pevensie ship.

-Is the cousin of Feyra and August Sherwood, and is like a younger sibling to them.

-Is a college student during the 60’s/70’s era who’s questioning their gender/sexuality.

-When they and the twins discover Narnia, they finds out that’s they’re really skilled at using weapons.

-They get so confused when animals just follow them around for no particular reason.

-They later befriend/adopt an orphan wolf cub, after some hesitation at first, which they name Akela who laters becomes their companion.

Cherry Hearts, Descendants OC, Ben Beast ship.

-Is the daughter of the Queen of Hearts, but their relationship with each other is very stained.

-Is in contact with her aunt, Mirana of Marmoreal/The White Queen who she considers more of a mother figure than her own.

-A member of the VKs, she wants desperately to be good and break away from her mother’s reputation, and dedicates herself to being better once the VKs choose good at the coronation.

-Smart and sarcastic by nature but not mean.

-Loves strawberries, red lipstick and graffiti.

Sofía Madrigal, Descendants OC, Evie Grimhilde ship.

-Is the daughter of Mirabel Madrigal.

-Like her mother, Sofía is a very optimistic and enthusiastic girl who loves her family above everything, and would do absolutely anything to make them proud of her.

-Many years after Casita was rebuilt, Alma passed away, and it was revealed to Mirabel that she had the most important role in the Madrigal family all along, as she was always destined to be the next holder of the family’s miracle casa.

-Is very skilled at sewing and playing the accordion.

-The day before she was sent off to auradon, Mirabel gifted her with a hand-sewn butterfly plush. She said that she would always be with her if she kept the butterfly close, so Sofía keeps the plush in her mochila bag, as she is extremely homesick & misses her mamá, familia & casa very much.

-Unlike her mother, Sofía was blessed on her fifth birthday with a magical gift, joining the rest of the Madrigal family. Sofía has the gift of light, meaning she can create, cease & manipulate it, making her the family’s real life miracle candle. However her power is defective due to Mirabel being giftless, so her gift is uncontrollable.

Wanda Darling, Descendants OC, Harry Hook ship.

-Is the daughter of Wendy Darling.

-Enemies-to-lovers trope!! She has the purest of hearts, is kind and sees only inner beauty, which causes some tension between her and Harry when they meet for the first time in the second movie.

-Wanda negates Harry’s narcissism and teaches him humility. (She basically baked him a big, humble pie.)

-Super shy and doesn’t talk a whole lot, but incredibly smart and loving. Has a huge interest in astronomy.

Tagging: @luucypevensie (since she helped me with many of these!!) @ginger-grimm @daughter-of-melpomene @ginevrastilinski-ocs @manyfandomocs

#oc plot bunnies #oc: solana corzo #oc: pedro fernandez #oc: matilda thorpe #oc: feyra sherwood #oc: august sherwood #oc: joan connelly #oc: cherry hearts #oc: sofia madrigal #oc: wanda darling

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gina103 · 2 months

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Girl From The Belly Ch 3

It's time for the ball! It's also time for Lina and Cassian's first encounter!

Ch 3 - word count: 3052 Previous - Next

Cassian was already exhausted, and the ball had only just begun.

It had been a day full of last-minute fittings, editing of the guest list, and seating chart changes. The staff were all hands-on deck. Every room was filled with servants and other members of staff either cleaning or directing others.

The chaos of preparation had certainly paid off. The ball was a glorious spectacle. Inside the grand ballroom, hundreds of beautiful flower bouquets decorated each table and lined the perimeter of the room. The side tables were stacked high with decadent desserts, cakes, and finger foods. Footmen with rigid posture patrolled the outer edges of the dance floor with more drinks and sweets adorning their trays, offering refreshment to anyone who had just finished a dance. The guests swirled about the room. High-ranking politicians, lords, ladies, minor royals from the neighboring countries, all dressed extravagantly and promenading about the room like dolphins circling a school of fish. Everyone was here to make moves, whether it was subtly arranging marriages between their eligible children, or building rapport with an advantageous figure, or simply catching up with acquaintances.

Cassian had his work cut out for him. He’d been mostly separated from his fiancé throughout the entire process of their engagement besides their introduction to each other. The duchess of Avila was a woman, elegant as they all were, polished, she knew exactly how to converse with someone to extract the precise information needed. It wasn’t hard to see why, she was tall, slender, with long raven black hair, icy blue eyes, and a countenance which thoroughly pulled you in. Cassian found himself in a strange mood every time she was around him. He’d always had trouble trusting other people, and this case wasn’t much different. He was awkward, reserved, and slightly cold to her. At least she had figured out that the best way to handle it was to simply leave him alone.

After his first dance with her was done, Cassian immediately wormed through the crowd and almost ran towards the refreshment table. His job was not done yet though. After the dance, they both had to be introduced to dozens of political officials and important people by King Edmund, which was tedious of course. The entire time, Cassian daydreamed of the ball’s conclusion, of finally going up to his study and being alone. Finally, there were no more people whom Cassian was required to speak to.

However, on his way back to his seat, he bumped into an old schoolfellow of his, Lord Babbledon.

“Ah! Your highness!” He called out, he was already drunk, “been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“Lord Babbledon,” Cassian acknowledged, “nice to see you.”

The man held a glass of champagne in one hand. It was a real shame he had turned out this way. They had lots of fun adventures when they were schoolboys, but now, Lord Babbledon was well known for frequenting the gambling dens, and his local brothel more than his own home.

“If I must speak, I will say your fiancé has mighty fine eyes!” He said slightly slurring his words.

“I shall be sure to inform her,” Cassian said shortly before turning on his heel and walking to his seat.

Once he sat down, he closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and took a deep breath. It’s almost over.

He took one more deep breath before opening his eyes and taking in the scene around him. When he wasn’t in the midst of things, he could step back and appreciate the work that went into the ball. Staring up at the ceiling at the large and extravagant chandelier which twinkled brightly amidst the candle-lights, he listened to the chatter of the guests combined with the waltz music that was played. His eyes rested back on the room. It was quite lovely, actually. Once he could have a moment to breathe, Cassian found himself not minding everything as much as before. His eyes once again flitted up towards the ceilings, admiring the crown molding that adorned all sides of the walls, it must have taken months to sculpt it. Cassian’s eyes halted abruptly on something on the wall, it looked as if something was poking out of it. Upon further observation, was that a head?

From his seat, Cassian could see an almost microscopic head continuously poking in and out of the wall. He could spot hair, long auburn hair draping down from the head, an arm reaching out to sweep it out of the way slightly, revealing a face. Although he couldn’t make out the face and what it looked like exactly, he knew he had to be staring at a person. It must be, but whatever this person was, they had to be small, very small. Cassian’s heart was pounding, just what the hell was he looking at? Could anyone else see this? Was he hallucinating? He looked around at the people around him, nobody else was looking up at the ceiling. His heart nearly stopped when he looked up again, whoever the little person was, they were staring right at him.

It was definitely a woman that he was staring at, and she was completely still, frozen, like she’d been caught. Cassian was fascinated, even from far away he could see her tiny chest expanding and contracting with her quickened breathing. She was frightened. Could Cassian be intimidating? Yes, but he’d never imagined himself as a scary individual. The way the little woman was looking at him, made him feel a bit weird, what was there to be so frightened of?

Cassian’s pondering was put to a halt when he saw the woman realize she was leaning way too far out the window. She was going to fall.

And she did.

His heart dropped into his stomach as he watched the woman try frantically to get her body back through the window, but it was too late. She plummeted down headfirst, landing in a large chocolate cake below.

Cassian jumped up from his seat, heart pounding as he moved briskly through the crowd towards the dessert table, but there was a new obstacle in the way.

Someone else had reached her first.

Lina was having the time of her life.

Even though getting up into the secret spot above the ballroom was exhausting, having to climb unnumerable amounts of stairs covered in cobwebs, their only light being a small lantern from home. The view was one thousand percent worth it.

Through the small window, Lina could see the entire ballroom. It was a spectacular scene; gasps of awe and glee were the only noises from the trio that could be heard in their secret spot. Mrs. Acorn and Mary were just as excited as Lina of course. Mrs. Acorn pointed out all the most important people in the room to the girls, describing in detail their rank, their eligibility, their children and future children, absolutely everything. The beautiful waltz music lofted its way up to them, prompting Mary to grab Lina excitedly.

“Shall we dance?” she asked.

Lina nodded giggling as the two attempted to replicate the dancing couples below. Mrs. Acorn watched the girls fondly; she swayed along with the music. It was a very happy scene, and Lina was sure that if her mother or Eunice could see her now, they’d be very angry with her. But luckily, they were both at home asleep in their beds, along with the rest of her family.

After a long time of dancing, admiring, and gossiping, Mrs. Acorn announced that they should be getting back to The Belly. She and her daughter proceeded towards the door, simultaneously noticing that Lina hadn’t moved.

“C’mon then, Lina,” Mrs. Acorn said beckoning her along.

“I think I’ll stay for a little bit longer,” Lina replied looking out the window again, “You guys go ahead.”

“Are you sure you can find your way back?”

“I’m sure.”

“Well ok then, have a good night!”

Mary and Mrs. Acorn left, waving goodbye as they went, leaving Lina all by herself in the dusty little room.

Turning her attention back to the ball, Lina leaned further out the window and began to search the room for the only person she wanted to keep track of, the prince. She found him almost instantly, he was sitting down after dancing with his fiancé. He looked so dashing in royal blue. Compared with all the other men in the room, he certainly looked the most handsome in Lina’s mind, his dark hair contrasting with his deep blue attire, giving him an almost ethereal air. He looked as if he belonged to the night sky. She wished she were able to see his gorgeous blue eyes from up here, surely, they were stunning as usual. Lina did one last sweep of the room with her eyes, intending to gaze upon the prince one more time before leaving. However, there was a problem. When Lina rested her gaze on the prince once more, she was absolutely frozen in place.

He was looking right at her.

There was no mistaking it, he saw her.

Those gorgeous blue eyes of his were wide with wonder, unable to move from her own gaze. They were caught in an extremely dangerous staring contest, with neither of them daring to look away. It was in this staring contest where Lina felt herself leaning way too far out the window, too busy caught in the prince’s gaze. Panic set in as she realized that she was going to fall if she didn’t correct herself. Frantically, Lina attempted to lean back up into the little dusty room, but it was too late, her weight was too off-balance.

All she could do was let out a tiny gasp of fear before she tipped all the way forward, tumbling headfirst out the window.

It happened so fast, the air rushing around her, the ballroom whooshing past.

SPLAT.

Lina couldn’t breathe, she was laid face down in something sticky, something thick, something sweet? What had she landed in? Lina tasted the substance on her face. It tasted like chocolate. Had she landed on a giant chocolate cake?

There was no time to waste, Lina tried her best to not let pure panic take over, but it was extremely hard. She wrenched herself up off the chocolate frosting, attempting to wipe the substance out of her eyes. How on earth would she get home from here without being seen? Before she could so much as formulate a plan, her heart stopped.

An enormous pair of brown eyes were locked onto her miniscule form.

Before Lina could so much as scream, an equally gigantic grubby hand shot out and wrapped its vice-like grip around her, yanking her out of the cake and almost stuffing her chocolate-covered body into a dark, cramped, fabric-lined space. Lina realized with horror that she’d been stuffed into a pocket. Whoever this person was, there was no escape from whatever terrifying fate that awaited her.

Nausea kicked in as she felt her captor’s body weave in between the crowd, swaying her fabric prison. Lina’s eyes welled up with tears, would she ever see her family again? She should’ve just gone home with Mrs. Acorn, then none of this would ever have happened. Lina would die from her own stupidity.

A door was heard opening and slamming shut, her captor let out a gleeful giggle as he reached into his pocket and clumsily fished the chocolate-covered Lina out. Her captor’s eyes drank in her form, almost drooling at the sight of her. Lina finally had a chance to take in the appearance of her captor. Sandy blonde hair, brown eyes which were framed by dark circles, a wide smile which revealed rows of stained teeth. Lina had never been more afraid in her life, she felt more like prey than ever before.

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” her captor mused. A thing, that’s what she was in this moment.

She watched in horror as he brought his pointer towards her face, wiping some of the frosting off before sticking his finger into his mouth, tasting it.

“Delicious.” He whispered almost seductively, his hot alcoholic breath wafted over her, sending terrified shivers down Lina’s spine.

Slowly, he brought the same finger he’d just taken out of his mouth towards her again. She attempted to flinch away from him, but what could she do? He literally held her in the palm of his hand, he had absolute power over her. Right as his saliva-covered finger was about to touch Lina’s cheek, the sound of a door slamming was heard.

“Lord Babbledon!” A masculine, assertive voice was heard, “what are you doing in here?”

The hand she was held in quickly coiled around her to hide her from view, constricting her limbs and preventing her from breathing fully, or seeing who had entered the room.

She heard whoever it was come closer.

“Y-your highness! I promise you I meant no harm,” Her captor stuttered pathetically.

Lina’s heart leaped. It couldn’t possibly be who she thought it was, right?

“What’s in your hand?” The voice asked authoritatively.

“N-nothing,” Her captor replied nervously, “I swear to you that I would never – AH!”

Lina felt dizzy as her fleshy prison twisted and flipped upside down. Whoever this mystery person was, they’d grabbed her captor’s arm and twisted it behind his back. Lina felt her captor loosening his sweaty grip on her body, she found herself being maneuvered into a different pair of hands.

“Leave,” The masculine voice growled at her captor, or Lord Babbledon as he’d been called.

Hurried footsteps were heard before the final slamming of the door echoed around the room.

The hands of her rescuer unraveled, finally revealing their owner’s appearance. Lina’s body froze as she took in the hypnotizingly handsome face of prince Cassian, his watery blue eyes locked completely onto her miniscule form and to her surprise, were filled with concern and kindness.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

Lina found herself unable to reply, everything was too much. From falling into the cake, being immediately kidnapped, and now rescued by the prince, it was too much to bear at once. Lina’s mouth opened as if to reply, then closed as she realized she could barely breathe.

“I-I c-can’t,” she attempted to say flapping her hands, tears now streaming down her face, mixing with the now dried chocolate frosting still on her face. She choked on a sob, feeling utterly pathetic.

“Shhh, it’s alright. You’re safe now,” the prince said gently, he took out a handkerchief with his free hand and began delicately wiping away her tears and the chocolate residue.

“See? All better,” he said once he finished wiping her face.

Lina could not believe this was happening to her, the prince was actually comforting her. However it was incredibly embarrassing, their first ever interaction and Lina was crying and covered in chocolate. Despite her embarrassment, she couldn’t help her heart fluttering in her chest. Slowly, she calmed her breathing. She never expected the prince to be acting so kind towards her. She raised her head, meeting his warm gaze.

“Thank you,” she said attempting to give him a grateful smile.

“You’re very welcome,” he smiled back at her, sending flutters through Lina’s stomach, his brows furrowed, “you aren’t hurt anywhere, are you?”

If Lina was honest, she would have said that her body ached like hell. She simply felt sore all over due to her captor’s grip, but she didn’t feel it necessary to talk about.

“I’m not hurt. But I’m sure that man certainly is,” she said, her voice taking a more playful tone.

The prince chuckled a bit at her statement, “I believe Lord Babbledon will have quite the sore arm.”

“That was his name? Lord Babbledon?”

“Yes, you’ll find his name suits him quite well.”

Lina giggled.

“Your laugh suits you much better than your tears,” the prince added kindly, causing Lina to go pink.

“I’m glad you think so, but I think I’ve spent much too long away from home,” Lina said looking around to see where exactly she was in the palace. Being kidnapped and now sitting in the palms of a prince could sure give one tunnel vision.

She realized that they were in the white drawing room on the first floor. Thankfully, there was an entrance into the walls in the room which she knew of. It was underneath the grandfather clock in the corner of the room.

“Ah, of course. I’m sure you wish to get as far away as possible,” the prince said.

“Well, I should have been home a long time ago, but changes in plans happen,” Lina replied, a smile creeping onto her face, “Will I be let go?”

“If you wish, I have no reason to keep you. However, you must promise me something,” he leaned in closer, “you must promise to come see me again.”

Lina felt a thrill rush through her, “will I be compensated for this second visit, your highness?”

“You require compensation? If I had known this, then I would not have asked.”

“I’m only teasing, your highness. Will you please let me down by the grandfather clock over there?” Lina asked, pointing to it.

He obliged, cupping her slightly in his palms to keep her from falling out. Slowly, he bent down and opened his hand for her to get down. After jumping down from his hands, Lina turned to look up at the prince who, kneeling down, loomed over her like a building.

“I’m sorry I disrupted your ball, I’m sure you are eager to rejoin the festivities,” she said.

“I would not be sorry if I missed the entire affair,” the prince replied matter-of-factly before adding, “may I ask your name?”

Lina placed a hand on her chest dramatically, “your highness, we have not been introduced! It would be entirely inappropriate.”

“You are now concerned about propriety? You tease me.”

“Be patient, prince Cassian, I must keep up my appearance of mystery.”

“You use my name, yet I’m not allowed to learn yours?” he leaned down further, “You are a mystery indeed.”

“And I intend to keep it so,” Lina said almost mischievously, “Good night, your highness.”

“Good night, mystery.”

Lina disappeared under the grandfather clock. Once she made it back inside, she collapsed against the wall, clutching her chest in an attempt to slow her racing heart. she couldn’t decide whether this had been the best or the worst night of her life.

It was certainly the most thrilling she’d ever had.