✑ i'm twenty-two, a sagittarius and a hufflepuff. i cross-post on tumblr and wattpad. masterlist and other socials (via linktree) are linked in my bio or you can click the links below! જ⁀➴
Well, we should certainly make sure that everyone knows about this image, or how will they know not to post it? It's not like "That image of Musk looking like a Nazi" would narrow it down.
𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛❟ rosemary matthew-smith plays ryan evans in east high's production of high school musical all while falling for her older sister's biggest crush.
coming soon: july 2026
cast | graphics | spotify playlist | wattpad link
⋆⁺₊⋆ ❁ ⋆⁺₊ main masterlist | taglist ⁺₊⋆ ❁ ⋆⁺₊⋆
ACT ONE—WALK PAST, QUICK BRUSH:
❝...'cause i don't like a gold rush, gold rush // i don't like anticipating my face in a red flush // i don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch // everybody wants you // everybody wonders what it would be like to love you // walk past, quick brush // i don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush // i don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush // everybody wants you // but i don't like a gold rush...❞ —gold rush, taylor swift
001—the girl i've always been
002—the start of something new
003—basketball to the face
004—blackberry cinnamon rolls
005—punch-covered floors
006—truth, justice and songs in our key
007—choose(ical)
008—stale popcorn
009—bop to the top
010—stolen kisses in back hallways
ACT TWO—AN OPEN-SHUT CASE:
❝...life was a willow and it bent right to your wind // head on the pillow, i could feel you sneaking in // as if you were a mythical thing // like you were a trophy or a champion ring // and there was one prize i'd cheat to win // the more that you say // the less i know // wherever you stray // i follow // i'm begging for you to take my hand // wreck my plans // that's my man // you know that my train could take you home // anywhere else is hollow // i'm begging for you to take my hand // wreck my plans // that's my man...❞ —willow, taylor swift
001—tale as old as time
002—ocean blue eyes looking in mine
003—lingering touches and stolen stares
004—duke
005—promises, promises
006—she's such a silly girl
007—what even is risotto?
008—most likely to break their sister's heart
009—the broken-heart club
010—you can't help your feelings
011—right here, right now
012—be mine
ACT THREE—YOU MADE ME BELIEVE:
❝...i'd never gone with the wind, just let it flow // let it take me where it wants to go // 'til you opened the door // and there's so much more // i'd never seen it before // i was trying to fly, but i couldn't find wings // but you came along and you changed everything // you lift my feet off the ground // you spin me around // you make me crazier, crazier // feels like i'm falling and i // i'm lost in your eyes // you make me crazier, crazier, crazier...❞ —crazier, taylor swift
001—canoe believe this?
002—different summers
003—lead me out with your voice
004—(totally professional) co-directors
005—salt lake or st. louis?
006—sparks fly
007—wouldn't change a thing
008—letting it go...
ACT FOUR—YOU'RE THE ONE I WANT:
❝...kiss me once 'cause you know i had a long night // kiss me twice 'cause it's gonna be alright // three times 'cause i've waited my whole life // i like shiny things, but i'd marry you with paper rings // uh huh, that's right // darling, you're the one i want, and // i hate accidents except when we went from friends to this // uh huh, that's right // darling, you're the one i want // in paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams // oh, you're the one I want...❞ —paper rings, taylor swift
001—first day of senior year
002—rehearsals and auditions
003—rosie: the other cheerleader
004—spooky, scary skeletons
005—honeybee bakery
006—it's essentially a flashback episode
007—miss taylor mckessie
008—i don't mind the bone-crush
Summary: The Pevensies' and Penny finally arrive at Aslan's camp and Penny learns about the prophecy of the Summer Witch
Word Count: 2.3K
Content/Warnings: fear, threat
Gif Credits: @ophcliaswrites
Author’s Note: so… it's been a minute ngl. the last few months have been a lot of doctor and hospital visits (current diagnosis: vestibular migraines but idk if that's gonna stick) and i've not really had much inspiration for this story. i'm also writing a crime fiction novel and have a few other side projects outside of fanfiction writing so i've been putting a lot more into those things whilst i'm feeling well.
i also started watching love island usa season 6 for the first time in march and my crazy brain fixated and now i have an entire fic for that outlined too. plus i've been editing the ej caswell fic (hsmtmts) i originally started in 2024 and now i really want to write more for that too…
basically my heads a mess of too many ideas and not enough time. thank you to everybody who's been reading / commenting / voting / liking / reblogging even when i haven't had regular updates, it really means a lot! - auri
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CHAPTER SEVEN—THE PROPHECY
[ NARNIA, 1000 ]
A MIGHTY HORN BLEW LOUDLY ABOVE THE CHATTER OF ASLAN'S CAMP. It startled Penny, the sudden announcement of their arrival, as if it were important somehow. She supposed, to the creatures of Narnia, it was.
Out of the corner of her left eye, petals began to fly. She stopped and turned to find them floating in the air, taking the vague form of a woman. Naked and free, the way nature had intended all women to be before clothes and impossible expectations were manufactured. With a smile, Penny pushed on, no longer weighed down by the water-ridden fur or the snow piled around her feet. She almost felt like dancing, pirouetting through the fields and gliding along the air.
The crowd parted as they stepped near, the Beavers leading the way with an almost nervous excitement. Penny felt it too, her grip on the dual blades hanging from her belt tightening ever so slightly. As they passed by Narnia's creatures, all stopped, stilling for a moment to catch a glimpse of their supposed saviours. Penny recognised some from the mythology books her Uncle had in the Library: Centaurs, Fauns, Dwarfs, and animals (beavers, bears, leopards, horses) all somehow imbued with the power of speech.
Some smiled, some followed, the crowd that welcomed them in now shutting off the frost-ridden world they had left behind.
"Why are they all staring at us?" Susan asked through gritted teeth that she had forced into a smile so as not to seem rude.
"Maybe they think you look funny." Lucy giggled, looking up at her sister.
Penny shrugged, glancing around the campsite. "To them, we do."
Mr Beaver ran a hand down his wife's back, "Oh, stop your fussing, Mrs Beaver. You look lovely."
The crowd thinned once again, funnelling them toward the largest tent on the site, raised up a little higher than the rest on the mossy stone. A large man with the body of a horse waited outside, eyeing them up and down suspiciously.
Peter drew his sword, holding it up proudly, "We have come to see Aslan." He announced to the centaur with a little less confidence than he had intended.
The crowd murmured expectantly, familiar whispers reaching Penny's ears. The Lost Princess, they called her. The same as the beavers and the voices of the wind. The breeze shifted, swirling away from Penny's side and toward the tent. The curtained door blew gently, and Penny heard a low snarl from inside. Like a tidal wave, the creatures behind them lowered onto one knee, their heads bowed and eyes trained on the green grass below.
The children looked back at the tent, a bubble of apprehension ready to burst in Penny's chest. The curtain finally pushed open, a large orange paw stepping out into the warm sunlight. The body of a magnificent lion followed, his mane fluttering in the gentle breeze. The first thing Penny noticed was his eyes, old and kind in a way that reminded her greatly of her Uncle Diggory.
The girls followed Peter's lead, bowing their heads and falling to their knees in respect.
"Welcome Peter, Adam's son, Welcome Susan and Lucy, daughters-of-Eve. Welcome Penelope, our lost Princess. And welcome to you, Beavers. You have my thanks." Aslan's deep voice rang through the camp. "But where is the fourth?"
The children rose to their feet.
"That's why we're here, sir," Peter stated. "We need your help."
Susan chimed in. "We had a little trouble along the way."
"He's been captured... by the White Witch," Penny spoke reluctantly.
"Captured?" Aslan repeated. "How could this happen?"
"He betrayed them, Your Majesty." Mr Beaver told.
"Then he has betrayed us all!" The centaur stood beside Aslan spat.
"Peace, Oreius," Aslan commanded, settling the crowd before they could grow restless. "I'm sure there's an explanation."
Peter looked down, disappointed in himself. "It's my fault, really. I was too hard on him."
Susan laid her hand on his shoulder before looking back at Aslan. "We all were," she admitted, taking her share of the blame.
"Sir, he's our brother." Lucy's words sounded like a plea.
"I know, dear one." His voice softened as he addressed the youngest child. "But that only makes the betrayal all the worse." He shifted his piercing gaze to Peter. "This may be harder than you think."
THE GENTLE WIND TICKLED THE EDGES OF PETER'S HAIR AS HE STOOD ON THE HIGHEST POINT OF THE HILL AND LOOKED OUT OVER NARNIA. Through the valley of rolling hills, a structure glistened in the winter sun. It sat on a cliffside, surrounded by ocean and sand. A peninsula, he had learned in geography class, back when they were still allowed to attend school without the fear of an air raid siren blaring and the Germans dropping bombs.
As he stared out over the campsite and out toward the purple-pink sky, he realised just how much he missed it. Home.
Peter heard the crunch of the grass beneath four paws. "That is Cair Paravel, the castle of the four thrones. In one of which you will sit, Peter, as High King." Aslan peered up at him knowingly. "You doubt the prophecy?"
"No. That's just it." Peter sighed. "Aslan, I'm not what you all think I am."
"Peter Pevensie, formerly of Finchley," Aslan remarked. "Beaver also mentioned you planned on turning him into a hat." They shared a chuckle. "Peter, there is a Deep Magic, more powerful than any of us, that rules over all of Narnia. It defines right from wrong, and governs all our destinies. Yours, and mine." Aslan spoke mysteriously.
"But I couldn't even protect my own family," Peter argued.
Aslan disagreed. "You've brought them, and Penelope, safely this far."
Peter looked back out over the land. "Not all of them."
"Peter, I will do what I can to help your brother," Aslan promised. "But I need you to consider what I ask of you." He observed the various creatures milling around below them. "I, too, want my family safe."
Light footsteps coming up the hill behind them caught Peter's attention. He turned to find Penny, no longer dressed in her English clothes but instead in a long, pink linen dress with golden fabric draped down from her shoulders and a leather belt in which her dual daggers hung ready for use at any given moment. Half of her hair had been pulled into a crown-like braid, the copper strands more vibrant than they had been earlier, now interwoven through the blonde, while the rest fell down her back.
It wasn't the first time Peter had been struck by Penny's beauty, but it was the first time it had made his heart skip a beat.
Aslan tipped his head down an inch as she approached. "Penelope, I see you got my message."
Penny glanced between the boy and the lion. "What did you want to see me about?"
"It is not I who has anything to say, but you, dear Princess," Aslan spoke. "I imagine you have many questions."
Penny hesitated, "The Beavers mentioned a prophecy. It was about the lost Princess of Narnia. They said it tied into another they claimed to be about Peter and his siblings."
"As I was telling Peter, Deep Magic binds Narnia. Its past, present and future." Aslan took a step back, allowing the two halves to stand beside each other. Close but not touching. Not whole. Not yet. "What was predicted by the centaurs centuries ago through the ancient art of star-reading will come to pass. It is the way this world works."
"But what is this prophecy, Aslan? And how is everyone so certain it is about me?" She glanced at Peter. "About us?"
Aslan shook his head, "It is not as simple as just a single prophecy, Princess, but a quintet of intertwining strings threaded together to tell a tale of noble heroes and the lives they are yet to live."
"But if we are the heroes, then shouldn't we be allowed to know?" Peter questioned.
"Some, yes. But not all." Aslan acknowledged. "Peter, Penelope, not all things need to be known. Some must be lived."
"But there is a prophecy, predicting the Princesses' birth and return to Narnia." Penny insisted. "We know about the two sons of Adam and the two daughters of Eve. I can understand how that could be the Pevensies', but I don't understand why people keep staring at me like I'm a miracle they can't believe exists."
"If you truly wish to hear the prediction of the Summer Witch then I will gladly share it, however it is a prophecy of two halves." Aslan stared deep into Penny's ocean eyes. "Are you sure you wish to hear of your fate, Penelope?"
Penny held his gaze. "I do, Aslan."
"In the frozen heart of the land where shadows creep,
Where the ice-bound whispers of death wail and weep,
A child of warmth shall rise from winter's cruel grasp,
In the bleakest of nights, she'll bring forth hope at last.
Born in the depths of the coldest despair,
With hair like the sun and a spirit laid bare,
She'll dance through the meadows where snows used to reign,
And bring forth the blossoms where sorrows remain.
The summer witch, born of fire and gold,
At almost seventeen summers, her tale will unfold.
Golden threads of fate will weave through her heart,
The love for her lost kingdom, never to part.
With the sons of Adam and daughters of Eve,
In unity strong, we shall conquer and cleave."
"You are the Summer Witch Penny. The daughter of Jadis, and you will be the one to restore the light to Narnia after these long winter nights." Aslan spoke with a certainty neither Penny nor Peter had ever heard before.
Penny stepped back. Her head and hands shook as tears welled in her eyes. "No. I cannot be. I cannot have been born from such a wicked woman. I refuse to believe it!"
She turned on her heel and started back down the hillside.
"Penny! Pen!" Peter called, rushing after her.
Halfway down the hill, Penny still wouldn't stop, no matter how many times Peter asked her to stop. She couldn't bear to hear any more about the vile enchantress Aslan had declared to be her mother. Penny didn't have a mother. She was abandoned, not saved. She was a daughter of the Earth, not of Narnia and magic and—
Penny stopped dead in her tracks.
The low blare of Susan's horn filled the air. She had left Susan and Lucy by the river.
As he passed, Peter looked like a blur. "Come on!"
Penny almost lost her footing at the force with which he grabbed her hand in his and pulled her forward. Together they sprinted through Aslan's camp, narrowly avoiding the inhabitants as they raced to the riverbank.
They skidded to a stop by the edge of the water. Two wolves circled the base of the tree that Susan and Lucy had managed to scramble up. They snarled, drool flinging out of the sides of their mouths every time they snapped at Susan's dangling legs.
"Peter!" Lucy screamed.
Peter wasted no time, running through the shallow water and drawing his sword. "Get back!"
"Peter! Watch out!" Susan yelled from above.
One of the wolves tried to pounce, but Aslan intervened, pinning the wolf down with his large paw. Penny gripped the handles of her daggers, but before she could move to help, a hand seized her shoulder. She looked up to find Oreius staring straight ahead at the battle unfolding before them.
"You must stay back," Aslan warned. "This is Peter's battle."
All Penny could do was watch as Peter held his sword out steady in front of him.
"Come on," Maugrim growled. "We've already been through this before. We both know you haven't got it in you."
Peter didn't falter.
"You may think you're a king, but you're going to die like a dog." Maugrim pounced.
A strangled cry left Penny's lips as blood spilt out onto the grass below the wolf and the boy. No longer caring for Aslan's words, Penny lurched forward. She hardly felt the cold water hitting her legs, only one word whirling around her mind—Peter.
Susan and Lucy dropped down from the tree, reaching him in tandem with Penny. Penny's eyes checked Peter for bitemarks as she helped Susan roll Maugrim's corpse away from his motionless body. Peter gasped, taking large gulps of air as his eyes settled on the frightened faces of the three girls beside him.
His arms wrapped around his sisters as they threw themselves onto him and buried their faces into his neck. He caught Penny's eye from over their shoulders, and they shared a look of fear, relief and longing.
Aslan released the other wolf from beneath his paw. "After him." He commanded Oreius and his troops. "He'll lead you to Edmund."
The Pevensies watched them run into the woods, a flicker of hope burning inside at the thought of getting Edmund back.
"Peter." Aslan caught their attention. "Clean your sword."
Once the blade was wiped clean of the wolf's blood, Aslan commanded Peter to kneel before him. He placed his paw on Peter's shoulder, "Rise, Sir Peter Wolfsbane, Knight of Narnia."
Peter looked at the girls in shock, but a smile quickly spread across his face. The sunlight behind him turned his hair into a golden halo, and his eyes shone bright with pride. It felt strange, Penny thought. The tugging sensation inside of her, like a red ribbon of fate tied them together in ways beyond compression or understanding.
Years later, when reflecting on their long-awaited romance to their loyal subjects, Penny would cite it as the moment she fell in love with Peter Pevensie.
read this and remember it. read this and remember that she is going to use the profits of her fucking ego-stroking reboot to decimate trans rights. read this and remember that every time you pay into her IP, you are emboldening her to hurt us more.
our lives matter more than your fucking nostalgia.
trans lives matter more than your fucking nostalgia.
Straight women are only mad about a sapphic bridgerton season because they can’t self insert themselves into the fantasy and that’s why they can’t accept the homophobic accusations being thrown at them. They can’t take accountability for themselves being part of a larger issue at hand.
A love story should be relatable and/or enjoyable regardless of the gender, but for some reason this brand of straight women can only enjoy sexy romance if it’s two men or a man with someone they can project themselves onto.
And yes there are valid reasons to be disappointed that Eloise isn’t next, but using that as a shield to shit on a sapphic romance isn’t going to change the fact that this outrage contributes to homophobia, and the more you dig your heels in the more you send the same message that others who are fuelled by bigotry are.
