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heartss4val · 10 months

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𝐞𝐝𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐞 𝐡𝐜'𝐬

summary. headcanons of your relationship with edmund pevensie while dating. (gn reader)

— straight up fluff, nothing else. PART 1/?

— Edmund leaves little notes everywhere. In the pages of your books, the pockets of your pants, etc. Usually they just consist of sweet words and reminders to eat and take care of yourself as a much needed endorphin boost. He always makes sure to fill up the entire piece of paper, front and back until there's no space to write any more loving words. — Random "I love you"s throughout the day for no particular reason. — Playful arguments over the most miniscule things, I mean seriously, the two of you bicker like a married couple. Edmund can be quite argumentative, but not in the way you expect. No, usually you quarrel over the correct way to toast a piece of bread, topics such as that. None of it is serious of course, nine times out of ten it turns into a tickle fight that ends with a cuddle session anyway. — Edmund naturally smiles excessively around you. He doesn't really think about it, it just happens. Like this guy literally GLOWS when he sees you, it's not even funny. When you look at him, he smiles. When you rant, he smiles. When you talk about your interests, he smiles. No matter where the two of you are and what you're doing, he's always grinning around you, both of you in your own world. — Even though Edmund is one of the most renowned swordsman in Narnia, that doesn't mean he's immune to the occasional injury. And so, you have to tend to his wounds quite often. Sometimes you end up scolding him if the wound was the result of reckless actions and impulsive behavior, and yes he appreciates the concern, but he just thinks it's cute how your lips form into a pout whenever he comes back with a new injury to tend to. He adores how much you care for him, even if it's just through small actions. — Absolute SUCKER for when you kiss his scars. Edmund used to see his scars as a nuisance, only there to remind him of the treacheries of war and danger. But of course, life has different perspectives for different people. So when you came around, reassuring him that his blemishes were a sign of his bravery and strength from the pain he endured, he felt like he was going to cry. And the second your lips came in contact with a particular scar just shy of his collarbone, he immediately felt comfort and a sense of safety wash over him. Maybe it was the warmth of your lips, or the alleviation of your words, whatever it was, it made him feel like maybe everything was going to be okay. — Kisses on the nape and shoulder. (goes both ways) — Since we're on the topic of kissing, Edmund has a thing for tracing your jawline before or while the two of you are kissing, or just sharing an intimate moment in general. He prefers to rest one hand on the curve of your hip, and the other hand caressing your jaw, no matter what the position is. He also enjoys trailing little pecks from the side of your neck to the corner of your lips before he finally presses his lips against yours. — Chess dates!! Yeah, it doesn't sound like the most romantic activity but, cmon, it's Edmund Pevensie. He'll find a way to make it memorable. And while he loves a fair match, (who doesn't?) sometimes he just so happens to "accidentally" put his king in danger and — oh will you look at that, you won. Yeah, maybe he changed up his moves a little so you would win, but it's all worth it to him. He adores the sight of your eyes lighting up, and how you throw your hands up in triumph and shout in glee. While you're busy celebrating, he gazes at you fondly with an impossibly soft look in his eyes. One of his hands is lying on his cheek, supporting his head, while his other hand still remains on his king. Even though he "lost", his smile is wide as ever because as long as you're happy, he's happy.

— On days when he's not busy with training or just occupied with the responsibilities that come with being one of the kings of Narnia, picnic dates are a must. He cooks up your favorite meals and packs them up in a picnic box along with the traditional red and white checkered blanket, and off you go. It's kind of just a de-stresser for him. Quality time with you and a home cooked meal to go along with it. Sometimes he brings you to brings you to picturesque flower fields, or the patch of green grass directly in front of the river front. No matter where it is, Edmund has his reasons for why he chose those specific locations. They always remind him of you. The two of you watch the sun slowly disappear under the horizon as you both lay on the checkered blanket, with your head resting on his chest and his arm lazily wrapped around your waist, it looks just like a scene straight out of a fairytale. — Edmund is always eager to prove his love and devotion to you. He's deeply committed to you, and loves to declare it proudly. Sometimes he writes short poems about you, recounting his favorite moments the two of you shared. He describes the way your hair blows in the wind while the two of you are horseback riding, or how your smile is one of his favorite sights, he writes about anything regarding you. He just pours out his feelings onto a piece of paper. And when the stack of poetry about you piles up too high on his desk, he ties it up neatly in a ribbon and places it on your bedside table for you to wake up to. (CHIVALRY IS NOT DEAD GUYS 🗣️🗣️ ) — Edmund has a thing for kissing your hand. Like not even as a greeting, just in general. He just thinks of it as another way of showing his love and admiration for you. He brushes his lips against your palm and trails kisses up your fingertips, like HELLO??? — All in all, your relationship with Edmund Pevensie is truly one of a kind. ∙ u guys i know i havent posted a proper story since like may, and honestly i have no excuse i was just being lazy af. also my love for edmund has kind of faded but i started writing this months ago and decided i might as well finish it. ∙ so next time i post, it probably won't be edmund pevensie related, OR MAYBE IT WILL!! i still have many ideas (don't unfollow me pls im sorry LMAO) ∙ until next time, (and trust me, there will be a next time.) xx valerie.

#edmund pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie fluff #edmund pevensie fanfiction #edmund pevensie imagine #edmund x reader #narnia #edmund pevensie headcanon #narnia x reader #edmund pevensie x you

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viking-raider · 2 months

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Salt in Our Wounds - CHAPTER IV

Summary-> Gus is healing and moving about. However, nothing is sunshine around the house.

Pairing-> Gus March-Phillipps/Reader

Word Count-> 3.3k

Chapters-> I II III

Warnings-> PG-13: Language, Deception, References to WWII

Inspiration-> The one and only Chaos Major, Gus March-Phillipps.

Author’s Note-> I hope you enjoy! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> DRAGON_DWELLER

“You told our father what?” Edmund barked, as you met him outside the cottage, the next morning.

You had peeked out the window for him, ever since you woke.

“Well,” You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment. “It was Gus that thought on his feet and told Papa that he was working with you on things around the house.” You repeat yourself, licking your lips. “We had to tell him something, when he found Gus coming out of the bathroom, after his shower.”

Edmund carded a hand through his hair and paced on the small porch. “So, you told him that Gus was a carpenter from another village, who's come over to help me put up shelves in the basement and do repairs around the cottage?”

“Yes.” You nodded, fidgeting. “What else were we to tell him, Eddie? I just opened the front door and grabbed some random man off the street, who looked as if he needed a shower?” You huffed, a tad frustrated.

“No.” He sighed, waving his hand, a tired expression coming over his face. “No, the two of you did the right thing. I suppose it's just as good an excuse to explain him to Pops than any other.” He exhaled again and stopped pacing. “Right well, is the man handy with a hammer or saw?”

“I haven't the slightest clue.”

“I'll find out.” Edmund replied, motioning you both inside and found Gus sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee and reading his book.

Edmund looked at you with a lifted brow and you gave him a look that said, why not, since your father knew he was there, making your brother roll his eyes.

“Good morning, Edmund.” Gus greeted him, setting his book down.

“Morning.” He answered, narrowing his eyes at the other man, sitting nonchalantly at the table. “Are you ready to work today?” He asked, squaring his shoulders.

“I am.” Gus answered, taking a gulp of his coffee, unphased.

“Not before the two of you eat breakfast.” You spoke up, pulling your apron on. “So, park yourself at the table.” You ordered Edmund, pointing to the chair across from Gus, defusing the brewing cloud of male bravado.

Sighing, Edmund pulled the chair out and plopped into it, giving you a short nod as you set a steaming cup of coffee down in front of him. Blowing gently on it, he stared across at Gus, who had returned to his book, but felt the other man's eyes on him and lifted a brow over the top of his page. Edmund cocked a brow back at him.

“So, Gus.” Your father called out from the sitting room, having kept his own eye on him since Gus appeared upstairs.

“Yes, sir?” Gus answered, respectfully setting his book down again and tilting slightly to the side to give Mael his attention.

“Why aren't you fighting in the War?”

“Papa!” You gasped, head jerking in his direction, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. “That's rude.” You whined at him, frowning.

“It's all right.” Gus replied, smiling sweetly at you. “I don't mind.” He assured you, then looked back at Mael. “I'm a Conscientious Objector, being Evangelical.” He explained to him, causally.

Mael stared at Gus for a long while, fluttering and tapping the pencil between his fingers against his map. The sizzle of hotcake batter on the red-hot griddle and the bubble of the percolator on the counter filling the quiet space, as no one spoke. Finally, Edmund grunted, shrugging his shoulders and taking another sip of his coffee, putting the atmosphere back into some reasonable balance.

“At least, he's not a deserter or a Nazi.” Edmund commented, putting his coffee cup down and picking up the newspaper you'd set on the table.

“Exactly.” You trumpeted, nodding your head, a tingle of relief running through you, turning back to the griddle to flip the hotcakes. “How many cakes do you want, Papa?” You asked, shoveling the steaming rounds onto a serving plate.

“Three, Peanut.” He answered, still tapping his pencil, but his eyes had shifted to the uneven hardwood floor.

Nodding, you shifted three over onto his plate, before taking up a knife and cutting another in half, adding one half with his three, knowing sometimes three weren't enough, but four could be too much for him.

“Boys?” You called over your shoulder, cracking an egg onto the griddle, beside the two fresh pools of batter.

“Four, please.” Gus chimed, turning a page.

“Same.” Edmund replied, squinting at the small print of the article he was trying to read.

Humming to yourself, you finished cooking up the batter and made everyone an egg, before doling out plates. Everyone had just dug in, when a knock sounded on the door. You and Edmund tensed, eyeing each other, a silent conversation going between you.

“Don't be rude!” Mael huffed around a mouthful of food.

Sighing, you stood up and answered it, finding Dr. Tremblay on your doorstep, black bag in hand, a flood of relief washing over you.

“Oh! Good morning, Dr. Tremblay.” You greeted him, glancing behind you to Gus and Edmund.

“Good morning, mon chéri.” Tremblay smiled at you, kissing your cheek and glancing into the house and spotting Gus at the table, enjoying his breakfast. “I see my patient is feeling better.” He commented, lifting a bushy white brow.

“He is.” You nodded, stepping to the side. “Please, come in. Would you like some coffee or tea?” You asked, biting your lip nervously.

“Tea would be nice, oui.” Dr. Tremblay answered, setting his bag on the table.

Edmund looked at the respected senior and cocked a brow over his shoulder to his father, hoping to indicate not speaking of Gus's injury and real purpose in the house. Tremblay returned a squinty eyed glare, just as you set down his cup of tea, making you chuckle at the two of them.

“What's brought you over so early, Sacha?” Mael asked, forking a hotcake into his mouth, but his eyes were cast over the table.

“Oh,” Tremblay waved his hand dismissively, before reaching out for the sugar pot in the center of the table, dropping two granular, ivory cubes into his teacup. “I came to check up on Edmund.” He replied, looking at your brother with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Heard from Thom that he might need a new pair of glasses. So, I've come to take some measurements.” He said, patting his bag, still sitting on the table.

“You didn't mention anything about that, Ed.” Your father croaked, looking a bit alarmed.

“I didn't want to burden you with it, Pops.” Edmund answered, squeezing the handle of his fork. “No worries though. Doc has it under control.” He grunted, eyes shifting over to Gus.

Everyone finished their breakfast and Edmund showed Tremblay upstairs, under the guise of looking at his eyes in privacy, while Gus excused himself to the bathroom, following the two of them upstairs. You fret a little bit, picking up the dishes from the table and putting them in the sink, the feeling anxious of not knowing if Gus's wound was healing right or if he needed the antibiotics anymore. You wanted to go upstairs and join them. But knew if you did, your father would likely get more suspicious.

“Are we going to take our usual Sunday afternoon stroll around the garden today, Papa?” You asked, putting a plate on the drying rack.

“I'll see how I feel come time, Peanut.” Mael replied, leaning against the arm of his chair to catch every word the radio presenter was saying.

Nodding, you pulled out the mop bucket and carried it out to the garden, using the garden hose to fill it. Leaning against the wall beside the door, you looked up at the morning sky, steely with angry looking, iron-gray clouds drifting by overhead. You drew in a deep breath, filling your nostrils with the cool and salty scent of the sea, but it also had the faint snap of the ozone, the possible threat of chubby raindrops.

“Well, it looks like my nurse took excellent care of me.” Gus's voice chimed in your ear, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Your wound is all right?” You asked, casting your eyes up to his.

“Yes, ma'am.” He smiled, filling the doorway. “Healing nicely and should have the stitches out in no time.” He assured you, lifting his jumper a little to show you. “I also don't need any more shots! Which I am thankful for!” He chuckled, but looked at you quickly. “Not that you weren't good at administering them!”

“Oh no!” You giggled, cheeks warm with embarrassment and relief. “I'm just as glad as you are! I would have much preferred Dr. Tremblay make you take the antibiotic by mouth! The idea of sticking you, or anyone, with a needle is frightening. I'm surprised I didn't wound you further in the process.”

Gus smirked, glancing down at his boots. “I doubt you could have. I have thighs the size of tree trunks.” He remarked, biting his lip for a moment. “Your bucket!” He gasped, catching sight of the water spilling over the side.

“Oh shoot!” You snapped, twisting the nozzle off and letting out a sigh.

“I'm sorry, I distracted you.” Gus apologized, watching you tip the bucket slightly to let out the excess water.

“It's all right. I should have been paying attention.” You shrugged, grabbing the handle.

“Here, I'll carry it in for you.” He offered, replacing your hand with his at the handle.

You brushed a loose lock of hair behind your ear and watched him take it inside, before shaking your head, as if to snap yourself out of something, and followed him back inside. “You can put it right there.” You instructed him, going under the sink to grab the bottle of fairy liquid. “Are you going to help my brother?” You asked in a hushed voice, pouring some of the washing up solution in the water, while glancing over at your father, who had dozed off.

“I don't know.” Gus replied, a crease forming between his brows. “I'm not sure your brother is too fond of me.”

“Edmund is...” You sighed, resting your hands on your hips. “Edmund tends to be guarded. Many relationships in his life haven't panned out. With our mother leaving us and his wife—well, Willa has big dreams. She feels have been held back and blames him for that, by keeping them here in Saint-Thurney. So, sometimes, even when he does like someone, he gives them the cold shoulder.”

“He's waiting for the boot to drop.” He nodded, understanding.

“Exactly.” You hummed, grabbing the mop and dripping it into the soapy bucket. “Now, you need to skitter off my kitchen floor, so I can wash it.” You ordered, shooing him.

“Yes, ma'am.” Gus laughed, swiping his book off the kitchen table, gave you a grinning salute and made for the basement, casting one more look back at you, smirking as you started scrubbing the floor. “Do you want any help?” He asked, finding Edmund framing up the shelves against the cellar wall.

Edmund paused, a nail clamped between his lips, bracing his elbow against the board he was nailing, he took the one out of his mouth, answering. “Are you any good at building things?”

“I find my way around a saw, hammer and a nail.” Gus replied, looking around at Edmund's spread-out supplies. “Just tell me what you want done with them.”

“All right.” Edmund nodded, cocking a brow at him. “I need a few more boards cut. I already have them marked to length. You can do that for me.”

“Sure thing, Captain.” Gus replied, going into his makeshift room to set his book down. “What?” He asked the other man's look, lifting one of the pre-marked boards onto the sawhorses, finding the pencil measurements and grabbing the saw that rested against the leg beside him.

“Don't call me that.” Edmund growled, an angry glare in his eyes.

Gus held his gaze for a moment, a faint smirk on his lips. “My apologies.”

The two of them nodded at each other, then turned back to their work.

There was no afternoon walk to be had, the dark clouds from that morning broke open and saturated everything outside, shutting in the residents of Saint-Thurney. Your father continued to doze in his chair, unbothered by the weather pattering the roof like a percussion symphony. Gus and Edmund were still down in the basement, hard at work, coming up periodically for bathroom breaks and refreshments, and you sat at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of tea and getting lost in the world of Oliver Twist.

You paused, bringing your teacup to your lips and cast your eyes to the window by the door, sure you had heard something outside, above the rain and carpentry. But saw nothing and shrugged, taking your sip and set the cup down, returning to your sentence. However, a few moments later, you swore you heard it again; putting you on edge.

“Edmund!” You called out, slowly setting your book down, the hairs at the back of your neck began to stand up. You gasped, seeing three men flash by the window. “Edmund!” You shouted, startling your father awake, his eyes wide with panicked alarm.

A thunder of furious pounding sounded on the front door accompanied Edmund and Gus's boots stomping up the basement stairs, frantic and confused. You had rushed over to your father, in an attempt to calm him before he slipped into an episode of shock.

“It's the Patrol!” You cried, rubbing your father's back, eyes trained on the vibrating door, a stream of German demands now being shouted with their banging, mixed with accented French and English.

“Damn my eyes.” Edmund growled, gritting his teeth. “They must be doing random searches, thinking they can catch everyone inside with the weather.” He huffed, wiping at his sweaty brow and glancing at Gus, who seemed startling calm, but tense.

“We have to let them in!” You urged your brother, not liking how angry the Patrol sounded and knowing the longer you waited, the worse it would be.

“I know!” Edmund barked sharply, the gears in his brain spinning for a split second longer, before he took a long step forward and yanked the door open. “What's the meaning of this!? Are you trying to wake the dead?” He demanded, looking the three German Patrol officers over, the Sturmführer was red faced, and all of them were dripping from being forced to wait so long in the rain, for an answer.

“Inspections!” He snapped in Edmund's face, a small bit of spit hanging from his bottom lip.

“Yes, fine!” Edmund replied, rolling his eyes and shoving the door open.

No one moved as the three officers entered the cozy cottage. Your hand shook as it rested on your father's shoulder, periodically massaging it when you felt him tremble, still on the edge of a possible attack from his Shell Shock. Edmund eyed them from his place by the door, sweaty hands clenched into fists as he watched them conduct their inspections. More like a path of intrusive destruction. They yanked books off shelves, opened cabinets and tossed out their contents, pushed over furniture for amusement.

Even nicked things, when they thought the owners weren't looking.

Mael leaned forward slightly, mumbling to himself, causing you to frown. You tried to kneel down to bring your ear close to his mouth and listen to what he was saying, worried for him, but were stopped by one of the officers. He grabbed you roughly by the arm and yanked you up, barking something at you in German that you didn't understand.

“Please, he's not well!” You protested, tugging against him, desperate to care for your father before he slipped too far.

“Nein, bleib, Hexe!” He barked at you, making you cry out, his grasp tightening.

Before Edmund could blink, Gus was halfway across the kitchen, trained on the German holding you, like a bull seeing red. Snarling, with nostrils flaring, Gus twisted his fist in the officer's uniform and yanked them together. Forcing the other man up onto the tip-toes of his black polished boots in the process.

“Let her go!” He barked, giving him a good shake, for effect.

Startled, he let go, you tumbled to the floor at their feet, and rubbed at the burning handprint that was left behind. The air in the cottage thickened dramatically. One of the officer's comrades came rushing in from the garden, hearing the commotion, and fumbled for his sidearm. While their leader came flying downstairs.

“What is this!” The commanding officer demanded, glaring at Gus as he continued to hold his subordinate. “Put my officer down! At once!” He ordered, when Gus didn't move, showing no fear or reluctance towards the three of them, unlike you, Edmund or your father. “Who is this man?” He barked, looking between your brother and father.

“Answer me, at once!” He screamed, face turning red again. “Or I'll have him shot!”

“No!” You cried out, frightened. “Gus, let him go!” You begged him, pulling on his pant leg, desperately. “I'm fine, please!”

“Answer!” The officer growled at the lot of you, his limited patience wearing thin. “Oswin!” He hissed at his officer, who was now pointing his Walther p38 at Gus. “Shoot him!” He ordered, with a hard jerk of his head.

“He's my sister's fiancé!” Edmund blurted out, as Oswin pulled the pistol's slide back, his eyes wild in the heat of the moment, before collecting himself and saying more calmly. “He's just my sister's fiancé.” He gulped, meeting your eye as you looked up at him, stunned, and caught off guard by the omission.

“What man wouldn't protect his betrothed?” He asked the Storm Leader, moving his eyes to Gus.

“A lesser man.” Gus replied, taking the cue, then looked at the commanding officer. “And I'm not a lesser man, to have your filthy runt put his hands on my girl.” He growled, shoving the man away.

“Why have we not seen you before?” He demanded, looking Gus over.

“He was serving, but just returned home, after being wounded.” You explained to him, looking up at Gus. It was the easiest bit of information to give, for them to believe, Gus could show them his wound.

“Is that so?” The officer asked, cocking a brow.

“It is.” Gus answered, pulling up his jumper to show them his bullet wound. “I was wounded in Belgium and discharged. So, I came here to be with her and recover.”

“Can anyone other than those here confirm your story?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at the lot of you.

“Yes.” Edmund chimed in, feeling like the situation was on decent grounds. “Dr. Sacha Tremblay. He's been doctoring his wound since he's been back.”

“I will be checking and informing the Director General.” The Storm Leader warned the three of you, and the look in his eyes hinted at his misgiving, waiting for one of you to crack.

“Very well.” Edmund answered, his tone bland, shrugging one shoulder.

The senior officer stared the three of you down for a second longer, before looking to his men, inquiring in German if they had found anything. But the two replied in the negative. There was no contraband or anything that could get any of you in trouble as collaborators to the French Resistance or Allied Powers. Despite Gus standing right there in front of them, plain as day.

Whether they knew that or thought they had enough evidence to take you in, was another story entirely.

#henry cavill #henrycavill #Salt in Our Wound #Salt in Our Wound *fic*#gus march phillips #the ministry of ungentlemanly warfare #Gus/Reader #Gus & Reader #Gus x Reader #Gus March Phillips x Reader #Gus March Phillips & Reader #gus march Phillips x you #gus march phillips/You #Fluff #hurt/comfort #viking-raider fics #WWII #wwii era

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darkbluekies · 11 months

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King Edmund asks #2

Previous one

Concept: I've put multiple asks into one post to avoid too much loose posts on my account! This way, you have more to read too<3

Warnings: yandere

Hey there^^ I wanted to say that I’m sooo in love with your blog🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️ Thanks for the hard work^^ I had a question about king Edmund. What if Edmund took darling to the meeting and he tried to convince the other king to give him recourses. But that king refuses and Edmund’s about to loose. And that’s the moment when darling joins the conversation and after some time the other king agrees(basically his darling knows politics and really smart).

[Thank you so much<3]

To be fair, this is a time where it isn't appropriate for women to be interested in politics, so he'd be shocked that you know so much. He'd also be a bit worried. If you're smart, that means that you'll stand against him easier. He'd rather have you cute and dumb.

"My love ... what are you doing? I mean ... thank you for saving me, but what the hell? How do you ...? Why do you ...?"

i was listening to music today and i realised that the song ‘The masochism tango’ by Tom Lehre reminds me sm of Edmund

I listened to it, I can see Edmund listening to it!!

What would yandere king do if he woke up in the morning to us gone again. He might panic and be mad again but it just turns out the reader was in the restroom

"Ah, you son of a bitch, Y/N, giving me a fucking heart attack at eight am! You better come back into bed and make up for that! What if my heart would have stopped, hm? The king could have died!"

It's no secret that Edmund is now.....not a favorite among the people, especially after the conflagration he arranged in the village. And for sure, some relatives of his devoted guardians ended their lives in the most painful way, this circumstance was the last cup of patience, but what darling takes advantage of this and plays the cards so that the hated king falls off the throne into the slums, thereby bringing justice to the people and yourself?

He will never let that happen. He refuses to let anyone take the power away from him. But if it does happen, he will get his revenge on you. You won't be leaving him whatever happens. So, would you rather be locked in him in a big castle where all of your needs are met ... or chained together with him in a ditch somewhere?

I would enjoy living in lavish paradise with Edmund but wouldn't want kids unless there furbabys/dogs/cats would Edmund be fine with this?

I mean ... he wouldn't have too much of a problem with it, but the country would. You need an heir. Edmund would try to convince you to have one ... even if you've made up your mind.

"We don't have to care for it", he says. "We can just birthed it and let maids take care of it. My parents did that to me and it worked."

You take one look at him and shake your head. "Over my dead body. I don't need another one of you."

"And what's that supposed to mean-"

When I think of the Edmund five I think of a Marie Antoinette vibe I really liked that time period.Most likely because of the indie movie I really liked that movie what do you think?

Hm, interesting thinking, i can see what you mean. For me it's more of a fairytale thing, like medeveal (?) but not at the same time? His timeline is quite timeless.

hi i want to tell you about this random thought I had, but what if edmund's darling was a noble and his fiance right from the start? what would change between their relationship?? and would it make a difference if the fiance only feel obligated and complied to care about him cuz of the arranged marriage?? thank you and have a great day/night‼️‼️‼️

He'd be more than thrilled because he wouldn't have to create that blood bath he planned, but his violence wouldn't end. He is a young man needing that spark in his life. For him, it wouldn't really matter why you were nice to him, as long as you were.

What would Edmund do if we don't like being pampered? As in like we don't want to wear jewelry or fancy clothes we just want to wear comfy clothes also we'd start crying and begging not to wear fancy clothes if he forced us

He'll try to pursuade you since his reputation is a big deal for him, but when your eyes become so red and puffy with tears and you can barely breathe, he'll give up. He'll embrace you, whispering that you won't have to wear the clothes often. Only on important events. His heart will ache at the feeling of your trembling body in his arms, but he knows that he can't give in too much, he's still a king who has his rules.

"Don't cry, my queen, everything has a solution. We just have to compromise. Wipe those tears and sit down in my lap so we can talk."

Edmund - *kills hundreds* Reader - >:( Edmund - I Uh- I love you? Reader - >:( *angrily happy*

aww haha itll be like that sometimes

——————————————————

Edmunds (or however you spell it) better gimme attention now or I'ma throw a tantrum.

Oh, don't you worry, his eyes are all on you. You have all the attention he can give a person. Now spin around and dance with him.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere fics #yandere oc x you #yandere stories #yandere king #yandere royal #yandere scenarios

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lukealvezhimboextraordinaire · 2 years

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Some random headcanons I have and no one asked about but I'm sharing regardless. Anthony Version.

—Anthony takes lilies soap everywhere. Whenever he has to spend more than a day away from Kate he will just take her soap with him and take a bath with it to feel closer to her. He makes the house staff wash his clothes with it as deranged as that might be, only because that way he can bring his sleeve to his nose, inhale and be reminded of his wife.

—he also steals her handkerchief, one moment it's resting on her vanity and the second it's gone. the first time the house staff and Kate herself go crazy looking for it on every corner of the house for literal days. and just when she has given all hope up, she comes back to her rooms and finds her husband there smiling cheekily and her handkerchief in the same spot she remembered having left it, only it looks like it has been gripped and scrunched and hold for days.

—(don't come at me for this one, i just think it would be cute) the first time around Anthony knows Kate is pregnant before she herself realizes. he has memorized every curve of her body, how she likes to be touched and when, where to press harder and where to place delicate caresses. he can tell by mind every little detail of her morning and night rituals. he knows what foods she hates and which ones she could eat every day for the rest of her life. he has seen his mother go through pregnancies and unconsciously internalised the symptoms. so when her taste in food suddenly changes, he notices. and when her whimpers when he plays with her breasts swift, he notices. and when he comes one day home in the middle of the day only to find her fast asleep on the couch, he notices. but he waits and watches. and it's worth it because the way her eyes shine and her smile takes up her whole face when she finally tells him the great news is one of the memories he goes back when days get rough.

—he builds a gazebo by Edmund's burial site. the place has been hollow for so long and he is done mourning over what is lost rather than celebrating life. he and kate design it together, fill the area with Hyacinths and Tulips. they always place a pall mall ring there each year.

#anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #kathony #again this are my personal headcanons if you disagree that's okay

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philosophicalconservatism · 10 months

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hi, how are you? 😊 just for the fun of it, i'm throwing a random question at you: are there things which you think people shouldn't be able to buy or sell or do you think there should be no restrictions? like buying/selling e.g. organs, babies, weapons, drugs, sexual favors, etc. i follow some radical feminist blogs who are very much against surrogacy and oppose people (mainly sexual minorities) who say they have a right to surrogates and that it should be covered by insurance. i was wondering what a conservative thinks about these issues. i'm just curious & eager to hear different perspectives.

Thanks for the question, and once again for following.

The phrasing of your question cries out for drawing a basic distinction between Conservatism and Libertarianism. Yet the very moment we proceed to do so we come to an initial realization. If Libertarianism is only distinguishable from other ideas of government by the fact that it embraces an “absolute” ethos of liberty, then the only genuine Libertarianism is something called Anarcho-Capitalism. This is a scenario within which every voluntary transaction is permissible, which necessarily means that there can be no political state. Every element of order within such a society is to come about as a consequence of voluntary contracts between individuals at specific moments in time (including policing and enforcement).

Any professed Libertarian that adheres to anything less than this standard does not in fact embrace a genuine Libertarianism but some specific shade of Conservatism. How can I say this? Well, let us consider why someone who calls himself a Libertarian would reject an Anarcho- Capitalist model. How would he explain himself? In explaining himself he would begin to sound very much like a passage from an Edmund Burke pamphlet. He would begin to talk about abstract ideological speculation having to give way to practical human realities, and concrete social precedent. He could not exclude something like Anarcho-Capitalism in principle, as a future possibility, but he would insist that human societies as we presently know them cannot practically assume this form.

Now once he begins to reason in this way on political matters he cannot later on decide to appeal to some “absolute” Liberal ethos to settle every political question. He must continue in his confessed understanding of the fact that politics is actually a convergence of abstract ideals and (historically grounded) practical social realities. Without abstract ideals politics is morally blind, but without practical consideration and historical orientation, it is in applicable and useless. Attempt to establish a Jeffersonian Democracy overnight in a place like Saudi Arabia much less Afghanistan and see how far it gets you. On the other hand, you can take small practical steps toward gradually liberalizing such countries over time. The Conservative is a believer in freedom, but freedom is a thing into which societies must continually grow and develop.

So this brings us to your question of exactly what should and should not be permitted within the so called ”liberal” societies of the West. The answer is that we must determine on a case by case basis what we can realistically sustain as individual societies in this stage of our growth and development. We must carefully examine each issue with a close eye on the law of unintended consequences. Some professed Libertarians for example, like to talk about the legalization of drugs; but what would absolute drug legalization mean? It would consist of the right to freely dispense and use for recreational purposes, every single pharmaceutical and street drug in existence. We have absolutely no idea what an America like that would even look like.

We presently have a nationally crippling epidemic that revolves around a single strictly controlled substance (Fentanyl). One could not even begin to predict the vast sea of long term social consequences that would be created by the kind of policy referred to here. It would not even be guaranteed to eliminate the black market sale of these drugs. For example, there is still a multi-billion dollar international black market in tobacco, a legal drug. Now I made reference specifically to America here for a reason. Because in the end, every individual society must assess these issues for itself, on the basis of its own unique characteristics and national experience. Prostitution may be handled in one way by one legislature but differently by another (including within the same nation, as it is in the U.S.). One of the unintended consequences we must always consider is how the legalization of something complicates the prosecution of the illegal (or unregulated) versions of that thing.

The issue of surrogate motherhood could potentially yield some unique unintended consequences which cause it to stand apart. I do not have a problem with it in principle, but I think it must retain a certain character. If surrogate motherhood becomes a market exactly like any other market, then childbearing becomes the production of a commodity, and human beings can become articles for sale. But a child is not the “possession” of their parent, and therefore an unfettered market model is wrong for this kind of issue. There is a vast difference between parental discretion, and property rights. This topic is somewhat different from the others we have discussed so far. Those issues had to do only with how human beings dispose of their own person and property. This issue has to do with one party’s (or more than one party's) power over another (the future baby). For this reason it must be regulated even in the freest context.

In conclusion, the approach that I take on most of these question is to outline how we need to think about them rather than to try to answer them directly. Some of them are tremendously complex questions that do not necessarily have any uniform answer that is fit for every single society. We should act in a way that tends toward the maximization of freedom within the constraints of the present development of each society.

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tangledbea · 9 months

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Do you know how tall Quirin is?

Like, could you please search if there's a screenshot of Quirin standing next to Edmund or next to Lance?

Something you really, really need to understand is that, while there are canonical size charts of how tall the characters are supposed to be compared to one another, this info is fudged all the time in animation, in order to frame shots in a way that makes sense. Grabbing random screencaps of Quirin near Edmund is going to yield different results almost every time. In their few shots together in "Plus Est En Vous," their height comparison is a hot mess.

That being said...

This is from the first time we see Edmund. Quirin is clearly shorter than him in this shot. (And for anyone who's under the impression that the Moonstone was not responsible for Edmund losing his arm, you can clearly see his right arm/hand here, moments before he attempts to grab the Moonstone with it. He lost it in the resulting blast.)

Here's from the flashback in "Destinies Collide".

#Tangled #Tangled the Series #Quirin #King Edmund #TTS #Screencaps #Reference #Answered

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think-pieces · 12 days

Text

Sunjoy signing on

if there's one thing i love it's talking about Bridgerton. don't worry, you'll get used to it. one day.

today I want to talk about book vs show and the changed Edmund dying. And how, they made the right choice.

To begin in the books, Eloise was with her father in the greenhouse. he died unexpectdly from a bee sting. she sat with him banging on his chest willing for him to breathe. and then it was never mentioned again in her story. Literally, maybe once toward the end. Whereas in Anthony's book, it's his main topic of conversation. It's why he chooses to mindfully pursue Edwina, it's why he couldn't connect with Kate, why he refused love despite clearly being in love.

In the show, Anthony is with Edmund when he dies, (the same way). and his pregnant mother goes to him. Now this storyline makes way more sense. I know it could've been a random thing Julia Quinn did. but she never used it in Eloises storyline. seriously. In anthony's it makes it that more stronger. in the show, and book, Anthony never grieved his father dying. "Cursed to remember every waking moment" he tells his mother. while I believe The Viscount Who Loved Me was stronger in book form, you can't really tell the story of grief Kate and Anthony go through as easily in show form. Even with what they showed in Anthony's journey with grief in season 2, it's likely to get swept under the rug again and again.

Which is the true crime here. Overall, I won't say I enjoy all the changes in the Bridgerton show, but I will say some of them make more sense than not.

signing off

Sunjoy

#bridgerton books #bridgerton #bridgerton show #books vs show #media commentary #media critique #eloise bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #edmund bridgerton

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reallyghostlypost · 11 months

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Couldn't sleep last night so I finished the fic earlier :D

I started a new farm and in the first reward chest I found the Femur. This is easily the funniest weapon in the game because it's just a really big bone. At least with the Bone Sword someone bothered to sharpen it, the Femur is just some random bone you can find in the woods, only bigger. Which gave me the idea for the fic.

Basically, the First Slash's first impression of Marlon's odd (not yet) adventurer.

“So, this is all?” asked Edmund as he was gathering his papers.

“Yes, this seems to be all,” sighed Marlon looking tired. “I apologize for not being able to help you more.”

“That’s no problem, Marlon. No one really knows what’s going on in there any longer,” Edmund hurried to reassure the older man. Marlon looked more and more exhausted nowadays. He knows Marlon is trying his best to not burden the other guilds any more than they already are, especially since the situation in the Crimson Badlands is getting dire, but it’s starting to become obvious that he can’t singlehandedly run the guild and keep the Corneal mines clear of monsters for too long. “But if you stumble upon any gems or ore, please send them to Castle Village. Camilla has a few new ideas she wants to test.”

“And if I find any ancient coral fossils or shell remains, I’ll save them for your guild,” Marlon nodded. He lowered his eye at the rough map of the newest underwater cave the First Slash found last week and opened his mouth to say something.

But then the door opened and made them both look up. A kid was standing in the doorway peering around the guild hall curiously. Great, thought Edmund. Something happened. At least I’m here to help Marlon since he obviously won’t ask for help on his own.

“Can I help you with anything, Thad?” came Marlon’s tired voice from behind him.

Thad? Wasn’t that the name of Marlon’s newest potential recruit? Edmund watched the newcomer more carefully. He started walking towards them, checking the swords Marlon had on display as he was approaching. He was tall and kinda scrawny and by the way he was curiously looking around the room it was obvious that he never had anything to do with the adventurer’s lifestyle until now. Edmund knows Marlon is getting desperate to have more adventurers for his guild, but he isn’t sure that another grave on the summit is what anyone needs right now, because there’s no way this naïve kid will survive an encounter with any monster.

“Hi!” Thad greeted them as he reached the counter. He had a surprisingly deep voice. Edmund only nodded, still unsure what to make of him. Unbothered, Thad turned around and untied a long and thin package wrapped in brown paper that was tied to his backpack. He placed it on the counter and unwrapped it to reveal a rusty and badly battered sword. “I bought back the sword you gave me a few days ago. It was really useful, but I found something better.” Marlon hummed, reached below the counter and pulled out a few coins that he handed to Thad.

“Why are you paying me? It’s your sword.”

“I know good equipment is hard to get at the beginning. Maybe this will help, even if only a little.” Marlon isn’t even bothering to pretend that he might not accept this guy as a member, thought Edmund increasingly worried. Thad shrugged, took the coins and shoved them in his pocket. Edmund noticed the small magnet ring he had on his finger. Wait, has he visited the mines already?

“So, what weapon are you using now, anyway?” Marlon asked as he took the sword from the counter and placed it against the wall behind him.

“Oh? This.” Thad reached to the bunch of tools he kept strapped to his back and pulled out an absolutely gigantic bone. He let it drop on the counted loudly, rattling everything else on it and covering Edmund’s papers with dust and dried mud. There was a long moment of silence after that, as both Edmund and Marlon were staring dumbfounded at the half-fossilized bone. Edmund raised his eyes from the counter and looked at Thad who was grinning proudly. “Really cool, right?”

Marlon sighted again, sounding even more tired now. “As long as you can fight safely with it. Just… remember to check the shop here if you ever need a better weapon.”

“Sure. Thanks for everything!” With that Thad cheerfully picked up the giant bone, stashed it back in its place between the other tools and started to walk towards the door. He turned around to wave at them and then finally left, closing the door behind him.

“Marlon, he’s going to get himself killed out there!” Edmund turned back to the counter nearly panicked.

“He’ll be fine,” Marlon reassured him. “He spends most of his adventuring time digging up the dirt between the floors 10 and 13, which are close enough to the surface. The most dangerous things there are overgrown bugs. Hopefully he decides to stop the whole adventuring business as soon as he finds whatever he seeks there. I think he’s looking for clay.”

Edmund nodded still not convinced that Marlon won’t persuade the kid to join the guild anyway and started shaking the dust from his papers.

---

“A bone?” asked Brianna looking disgusted. “Who in their right mind would prefer a bone over a sword, no matter how old?” On the other side of the table Lance laughed while Jolyne looked at Edmund slightly sceptical.

“I know! And I’m telling you the thing was huge, easily bigger than my entire leg!” Edmund was glad his guildmembers were as shocked as he was. Marlon has been way too casual about the whole thing.

“Well, you have to admit it’s an ingenious solution to the lack of equipment problem that plagues all new adventurers,” Lance chuckled again.

“Please don’t make future First Slash newbies wield bone clubs in combat,” whined Gale. “The magic restrictions we have to train with are difficult enough.”

Lance was about to reply something, but Jolyne cut him off. “But you said that he could fight with the femur successfully, right?”

“Marlon said that he has been going to the mines daily for nearly a week and he seemed unscathed. But he doesn’t know at what point Thad switched to using the femur. Thad was confident that it was a better weapon though.”

“But how can some ancient bone hold enough magic to slay a monster successfully?” asked Brianna, who was still not resuming eating her dinner.

“If the bone is the remain of some ancient magical being or monster then it could still hold some residual magic from its owner. The Corneal mine is overflowing with strong arcane energies and that prevents any magic for dissipating, no matter how old,” answered Jolyne.

“It’s also possible that the bone was used in some magic ritual in the past. The caves of the Corneal Mountains have been often used by dark mages for secret rituals throughout history. Even Magnus hasn’t been able to fully put a stop on it,” completed Lance while taking a bite from his food. “Wasn’t that part of the material you had to learn before being allowed to help Marlon at his guild?” he asked while smiling towards Brianna, who was staring slightly panicked back at him. At her side Gale was already starting to look depressed.

“Who is scheduled to visit Pelican Town next? If Edmund is right and Marlon is determined to recruit Thad as his newest adventurer then we must make sure to keep an eye on him, he seems promising,” Lance continued while still holding that smile. Great, thought Edmund. He’s not dropping that. We’re all going to have to relearn that stupid manual about Stardew Valley’s history and it’s a few hundred pages long. Lance and Jolyne are way too obsessed with their documentation. Edmund picked his bowl of food resigning to his fate.

“And that holds true for whoever is visiting Castle Village from now on too,” added Jolyne. “We can’t afford to be left in the dark about the goings on of other guilds. Especially since there are only a few new adventurers this year.” There was a chorus of agreements then Edmund continued his report on his visit to Pelican Town.

---

Hope it's readable, since some sentences seem confusing to read but I didn't know how to rewrite them. I also still have no idea how paragraphs work.

Any suggestions/criticism on anything really are more than welcomed.

#the first slash adventurers need more love #sorry i couldnt fit drake in this but there were too many characters that had to react to stuff and i didnt know how to juggle them all #sve lance #sve fanfic #my fanfic #farmer thad #realized i dont have a tag with my farmer yet

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barbiewritesstuff · 2 years

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Chapter 10: Easy Peasy

-- Jake deserves the best, I love him

@because-edmund @blue-aconite

His alarm rang. The sharp beeps almost echoing through his bedroom. You were still asleep next to him, calmly breathing in and out. Jake had to fight the urge to stay and force himself to walk to the shower. He soaped his body and washed his hair, skipping his usual routine of imagining the water washing away his worries. He'd learnt that trick in his support group, Jake wasn't sure it actually worked but it had become so ingrained into the fabric of his day that removing it altogether would feel wrong. Skipping it for the day should be fine though, Jake thought. He stepped out of the shower and dried himself.

Shower, tick.

His phone notifications showed texts and one from his brother.

"Dude, we have neighbours!!" and "The TV is at max volume!! I can still hear you!!" were from Rooster.

"Don't forget: dinner at 6pm. Can you pick up wine?" John had sent. He'd almost forgotten about dinner on Wednesdays and now that he remembered, he didn't really look forward to it. He was already kicking himself for calling John for help. It had felt good in the moment, but now it just made him panic.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

He looked over at your sleeping form on the bed and calmed down. Despite knowing the list by heart, he still looked at it. Next up: work out. He put on his trackies, trainers and a random shirt he found on the floor and shot you a text in case you woke up when he was gone and left the room.

The house was silent. Jake closed the front door behind him, leaving his keys in the stone statue Rooster kept the emergency keys in.

You were still asleep when he came back but you were starting to stir when he came out of his second shower.

"You're up early" you mumbled in your sleepy voice, he smiled

"Insomnia does have advantages, I get to be up for every sunrise" Jake lied. Insomnia had kept him from sleeping more than three consecutive hours at a time most nights since The Incident. The only memorable good sleep nights he had had were nights spent with you or spent on a hospital bed. And Jake had stopped feeling anything but dread

"We should do that someday, see the sunrise"

"Sure, we can do that next time you sleep over"

"You seem awfully certain that'll happen again"

"I thought you had volunteered to help"

"I didn't know it was a permanent position"

"Might become one" he said before he could think.

You smiled at him, Jake tried to look concerned about an imaginary spot on his floor and pretended to scrub it with his foot. He was trying to hide a blush.

"Breakfast?"

"What do you have in mind?" You asked and Jake shrugged his shoulders.

"There's a place down the road that does decent pancakes and passable coffee?" He offered.

"I love passable coffee! Let's go!"

Jake wasn't hungry. His morning cereal was usually his least favourite time of the day simply because he never felt hungry in the morning, but like his shower ritual, he had been doing it for so long that stopping it would only disturb his daily routine. And without daily routine, he spiralled.

You picked a booth by the window overlooking the beach.

"It'll give us the best view" you had said

"Yes, it's beautiful" Jake said, looking straight at you. You blushed.

"So, a permanent position… what would that entail exactly?" You asked

"Well, here at Jake Seresin inc. We are looking for someone to fill a very particular role. The candidate that will be chosen for this position will need to fulfill certain specific tasks, such as killing spiders, making cups of coffee if asked nicely, and of course being available for cuddles whenever needed" Jake replied

"Well, sir, I believe I am uniquely qualified for this position. See, I am one of the few people capable of killing spiders without being afraid of them. I also make a killer cup of coffee among many other drinks and I am always willing to go above and beyond when it comes to cuddles."

The waitress interrupted. You both ordered pancakes and a cup of coffee.

"Well miss l/n, ou make for a very attractive candidate. I shall contact you within the week to tell you wether or not you have been chosen for the position. Do you have any questions?"

"Yes. Are you interviewing many candidates for this position?"

"No, as a matter of fact, you are the only applicant"

"How would previous employees in the position describe working with you?"

"Well, I believe they would describe it as difficult. I can be away for months at a time and long distance -- err -- employment isn't easy for everyone."

"I'm up for the challenge" you winked "Oh, another question, what are the benefits for this position?"

"We pride ourselves on having amazing benefits, here at Jake Seresin inc., we really value our employees and vow to take care of any need they might have" He wriggled his eyebrow "This obviously includes being given terrible cups of instant coffee, kisses whenever demanded and of course, never having to open doors of any kind ever again." He said, making you laugh. The pancakes arrived and syrup was poured. You were both quiet while you ate.

Then, your phone rang and the phone number of one of your superiors lit up the screen. You frowned.

"I have to get this"

Jake nodded. He watched you step outside, and answer your phone with it against one ear and your finger in your other one. He had a bad feeling about this. He'd gotten enough calls like that, but when you came back, sat in your seat and said: "One of my colleagues dropped out last minute, they need me for a three week journey. I leave in an hour", Jake could suddenly smell it again. The putrid cloud coming in through the door and bee-lining for him.

#fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #top gun maverick #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #fanfiction #jake seresin #hangman top gun #original fic

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rainbow-universe · 1 year

Note

This is random but do you have any favorite aro characters in media? Or characters who give you aro vibes?

No pressure!!

Ack! Oooooh good question!

Ok so idk many canon aro characters (which is sad there needs to be more and i am finding more but alas we have not met yet) but i do know some!! as for headcanoning, honestly i need to headcanon more characters as aro lol. disclaimer,, i went around looking at other peoples headcanons and agreed with them and now i share them with you :)) but also like for these characters i just have vibes and no explanation, solely going off what headcanons i saw that made me go “oooh yes” with no solid reasoning

CANON

BOOKS/COMICS/ETC

Jughead Jones from the Archie Comics: an iconic aroace

Yelena Belova from the Marvel Comics: is canonically aroace afaik so go her, she’s fantastic

Georgia Warr from Loveless (Alice Oseman): is aroace!! 😭😭 her story devastated me in its relatability but it’s fantastic and i love her

Gwen from An Accident of Stars (Foz Meadows): an alloaro in a polyamorous relationship and has a kid. It’s canonically mentioned offhandedly but it’s NOT Her Entire Personality™️ !! Plus she’s a kickass character (And the whole book is filled with polyamory!!) i love Gwen, she’s a really cool character

HEADCANONS

BOOKS/COMICS/ETC

Garfield: i saw it. i liked it. fuck yah

Edmund Pevensie from the Chronicles of Narnia: yes. why not. yes. i saw the headcanon and just,, agreed with i.

Saiki K: haven’t watched the anime or read the manga but it’s on my list and therefore so is he. why not

Elatsoe from Elatsoe (Darcie Little Badger): canonically ace, not stated that she’s aro BUT THERE WAS A MOMENT WHEN A FRIEND OF HERS WAS LIKE “you can bring a friend or a zucchini” or something AND I SQUEED BC QPR’S FOR THE WIN !! that little mention made me really happy. anyways yah she could totally be arospec

Bruce Wayne from Batman Comics/DC: i mean,,, the fact that im pretty sure he’d never give up being Batman for anyone, like sure he’ll have relationships and w/e but like,, idk it makes sense to me

Damian Wayne from Batman Comics/DC: yes. aro or arospec Damian just makes sense for some reason. i would also go as far as saying arospec Jason Todd as well ….

Bakugou Katsuki from My Hero Academia: aspec Bakugou just,, i love aspec Bakugou. it just makes sense to me. and i love it.

Todoroki Shouto from My Hero Academia: yes. he just has them aro/arospec vibes tbh

MOVIES/SHOWS/TV/ETC

Natasha Romanoff from the MCU: ive heard this before and i agree w aro or arospec Natasha. just yes.

Bruce Banner from the MCU: yes. not to mention the Hulk is green 👀 we love aro colours (and his purple shirts?? aroACE vibes !! 👀)

Loki from the MCU: absolutely. have y’all seen the amount of green he wears? and just his vibes. yes.

Tony Stark from the MCU: ya know now that im thinking about it, he’s got aro vibes.

The Doctor from Doctor Who: yes. never watched Doctor Who but i did read that one tumblr post about aro characters being passionate about their interests and i loved the headcanons from it so The Doctor makes the list

Enjorlas from Les Misérables: from that same post so yes

Newt Geiszler from Pacific Rim: again the same post, and yes i see it (kaiju!!)

Sherlock Holmes: as much as i love Johlock as a ship, aro or arospec Sherlock just Makes Sense™️ (and can still work with Johnlock heh)

Elsa from Frozen: aroace or wlw (or both 👀)

Merida from Brave: yes. totally aro. i love her.

Milo Thatch from Atlantis: The Lost Empire: from that one post lol. (and like,,, yes. yes.)

Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty: aroace icon. (we love villainous aroace’s lol /just as genuine as sarcastic) all that green and purple?? yessssssssss

Hiro Hamada from Big Hero 6: (i need to rewatch this movie lol) i saw headcanons for it and immediately agreed. i love aroace Hiro. it makes sense to me

Castiel and Dean Winchester from Supernatural: ya know, arospec Cas and arospec Dean just seem to make sense to me. idk why couldn’t tell ya but it does

Luke Skywalker & Rey from Star Wars: they just have aro vibes. even if Rey’s in a polycule w Finn and Poe, she’s still aro or arospec imo

~~~

That one tumblr post in question:

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blcodyhell · 7 months

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Random Edmund Pevensie moments: 195/? | His sword fight with Trumpkin

#narnia #narniaedit #prince caspian #princecaspianedit #pc #pcedit #edmund #edmundedit #edmund pevensie #edmundpevensieedit #cairparavelnet #mine #random edmund moments

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luucypevensie · 8 months

Note

🦁 + Isaac Lewis, please??

@dancingsunflowers-ocs ✨💙✨

MY EARTH SON, YAS THANK YOU SM ALEXANDRA!

1. Their favorite gemstone: Topaz

2. Their most heroic moment: During the battle against the Telmarines, Isaac saw that Edmund was unknowingly about to get attacked by a random soldier. Without even having to think, he threw his hand up and some roots from the ground knotted themselves together, causing the soldier to trip over them and get impaled by his own sword

3. A superstition they believe in (if they do believe in them): Four-leaf clover is a symbol of good luck

4. Their favorite 2000s song: Wake Me up When September Ends by Green Day

5. Their first pet: Isaac had a pet turtle that he named Lockjaw after the tortoise in Hey Arnold! (which is his favorite television show) when he was around 7 years old

6. Their favorite video game: Pokémon Diamond and Pearl

7. Their lowest moment: When Isaac came out to his parents, they were so horrible to him. His father called him a faggot, and his mother suggested one of those camps that try to stomp the gay out of you. Isaac never felt so low in his life, and he called Allison immediately to ask if he could stay with her from now on

8. Their crime against humanity: How much tea he drinks; seriously Isaac, it’s a little worrying how much tea you drink on a daily basis

9. Their middle name: Jeremy

10. If they have sloppy or neat handwriting: Isaac’s handwriting leans more on the sloppy side, but it’s not terrible

#oc: isaac lewis #fic: the dawn the sky and the sun #u: the chronicles of narnia #oc asks #dancingwith-sunflowers #THANK YOU ALEXANDRA!

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this-is-my-viscountess-face · 2 years

Text

A few things:

1. I didn’t know if I could claim this as part of @kateanthonyweek, since technically the week is over and truly you lovely people don’t need to be bothered every random time I get inspired to address an old prompt.

2. Also, this was a prompt for a twitter mini fic, and while it’s still short, it’s definitely over those character requirements.

Those things aside, thank you for the prompt! - Geese (AO3 link here)

——————————————————————

“Make haste!” 5-year-old Miles Bridgerton’s excited voice carried across the misty dawn at Aubrey Hall as he led his family to the lake, a basket of stale bread gripped tightly between his small hands. Edmund walked next to him, the same eager bounce in his step, while Kate and Anthony brought up the rear, a good ten paces behind their children.

It had become something of a tradition, this family expedition to feed the ducks on the lake at least one morning during their stays at Aubrey Hall. On this particular occasion, Miles had burst into his parents’ quarters before sunrise, chattering about the basket of bread Mrs. Wilson had left out for them the night before.

“Not to worry, darling,” Kate called out. “They will be waiting for us.”

“And they would have remained waiting for us after sunrise,” Anthony grumbled.

In Miles’ haste, neither of them had the time to properly dress—Anthony wore his trousers and shirt from the night prior, with no cravat and his suspenders hanging from his hips, and Kate a haphazardly-selected pair of stockings and a dark riding cloak she had thrown over her thin nightdress.

Kate laughed. “I am surprised, my lord,” she teased. She lowered her voice, “You are usually not this resistant to vigorous morning endeavors. Perhaps you find your stamina is adversely affected by your age?”

Anthony responded with a look that was somehow both murderous and affectionate at the same time before he wrapped an arm around Kate’s shoulder and whispered in her ear, “Once these ducks are well-fed, viscountess, I intend to escort you back upstairs and show you exactly how unconcerned you should be with my stamina.”

He grinned smugly at the hitch in her breath, the line of gooseflesh that appeared at the shell of her ear and trailed down her neck to disappear beneath her cloak. His other hand settled on the small bump at her middle, the flesh only just having begun to visibly swell in recent weeks. “Though I would have thought this proof enough.”

Miles and Edmund had already begun ripping and tossing pieces of bread to the the small group of ducks gathered near the lake’s edge when Kate and Anthony reached them. In the distance, more ducks glided along the lake in their direction, their movements cutting a thin line across the otherwise-still water that glinted in the early morning sun.

Anthony leaned over his sons to pluck some bread from Miles’ basket. It was hard beneath his fingers, and he passed a handful to Kate. For a few moments as they fed the ducks, the family shared a comfortable silence punctuated only by the bucolic sounds of gentle splashing or the occasional quack.

“Have these ducks always lived at Aubrey Hall, Papa?” Edmund asked.

“There have always been ducks here, yes,” Anthony replied. “Whether or not these are the same ducks from my youth, I cannot say.”

Edmund nodded, seemingly satisfied with his father’s answer.

“They are Bridgertons, that is for certain,” Kate added. She pointed to where three ducks were fighting over the same piece of bread, despite two crusts that floated nearby. “They are battling for this as if it is their very own mallet of death. Perhaps they have learned by observation throughout the years.”

Anthony’s eyes narrowed. That reminded him. “Speaking of the mallet of death, dear wife, it has not escaped my attention that it is presently not in its place.”

Kate smirked at him. “I, too, have learned by observation throughout the years.”

Anthony opened his mouth to respond with a clever retort, but he was cut off when Miles pulled at his hand and pointed behind them, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Look, Papa!”

Two geese waddled toward them, their snow-white feathers a sharp contrast against the grass even in the dim morning light.

And Anthony was immediately transported back to another morning much like this one.

A morning when he had vacantly watched two geese in his horse’s path while riding home from a night of trying to chase his crushing burdens away.

A morning when the most fearless, vexing, enchanting woman he had ever known had ridden into his life and taken up residence in his heart.

A morning when he had first let himself feel for just a moment, however fleeting.

He turned back to look at his wife, leaning over the lake as she dropped pieces of bread to the ducks below, her thick, dark hair pulled to the side in a long braid the same way she had worn it that day, and, for what was perhaps the thousandth time, Anthony marveled at the way his life had turned out.

“Papa, did you know that geese mate for life?” Edmund’s voice interrupted him from his reverie. “I read about them in a book in the nursery.”

“Indeed they do, my darling boy,” Anthony responded softly, ruffling Edmund’s hair. “Indeed they do.”

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