beaststhattalk reblogged
Two Pevensies: [½] Edmund Pevensie
Source: pcaspians
beaststhattalk reblogged
Once there were four children whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy. This story is about something that happened to them when they were sent away from London during the war because of the air-raids. - C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
beaststhattalk reblogged
get to know me [2/20] favorite movies: the lion, the witch and the wardrobe ♥ i wrote this story for you, but when i began it i had not realized that girls grow quicker than books. as a result you are already too old for fairy tales, and by the time it is printed and bound you will be older still. but some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again. you can then take it down from some upper shelf, dust it, and tell me what you think of it. i shall probably be too deaf to hear, and too old to understand a word you say, but i shall still be your affectionate godfather, c. s. lewis.
beaststhattalk reblogged
brothers to the last fight.
beaststhattalk reblogged
I've always been dying to know what it was that Aslan said to Edmund in this conversation. Guess it's one of those things we'll just never know. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Anyway I did this a little while ago but have been thinking of painting it again with brighter colours... maybe... then again I probably won't be bothered to. We'll see.
beaststhattalk reblogged
thinking about the perfect parallel that is edmund refusing to participate in the snowball fight, and getting annoyed when susan throws the snowball at him, and then in prince caspian he is actively participating in the water fight with his siblings. i love his development and growth so much.
beaststhattalk reblogged
the pevensies first + final vist to the lamppost
beaststhattalk reblogged
↳ #7 Mr Tumnus from The Chronicles of Narnia
beaststhattalk reblogged
Peter did not feel very brave; indeed, he felt he was going to be sick. But that made no difference to what he had to do.
C. S. Lewis, The Chronicles of Narnia
beaststhattalk reblogged
Pitch black, pale blue There was a stained glass, variation of the truth And I felt empty handed
You let me set sail With cheap wood So I patched up every leak that I could
‘Til the blame grew too heavy Stitch by stitch I tear apart If brokenness is a form of art
I must be a poster child prodigy Thread by thread I come apart If brokenness if a form of art
Surely this must be my masterpiece