#where is caspian?

[stayweird13]

This show changed the course of my life. Watch it. Now. (Please please please please please)

[buckstitslover118]

I MADE BEN BARNES A CROSS STITCH AND HE POSTED IT ON HIS IG STORY WTF

i have ben a huge fan of him since i was like 9. whenever the Prince Caspian DVD came out lol.

so this is like genuinely one of the greatest things to ever happen to me

also i used stitchfiddle to make a pattern. i didn't just freehand it bc that would be fucking insane.

[adoringyouhxney]

Ben Barnes: photos by me

⚡️Where The Light Gets In Tour⚡️

[zannolin]

personally not a casmund shipper but i find it fucking HILARIOUSSSSS that in dawn treader it seems like maybe they were going for lucy sort of having a crush on caspian (because of her whole wanting to be like susan/be desirable to boys plot (sigh) and her whole tucking her hair behind her ears and asking weirdly if he's found a queen yet schtick.) but it absolutely did NOT land and instead edmund was Like That about caspian the whole movie just like how caspeter had 100x more chemistry than suspian in PC. they keep trying to be like hey look women are into caspian! and then the movie goes "also men. very much men are into him."

[teamcomet-askblog]

Hi guys this blog isn't dead I've just been drawing my comics PFFT

Behold, BABY.

[stellaafterdark]

Hey chat what do you call it when your sentient rice cooker ghosts you and your clone companion can’t team up with the other two flawless UIs and as a result you don’t get to grow up with your boyfriend even on the other side of a UI divide?

a MIST opportunity

[whymusttheworld-95]

As part of the I wanna say like a thousand remaining members of the Narnia fandom, I think we should adopt collective dementia and pretend that the seventh book never happened, the pevensies all found the rings that digory and Polly hid and could visit whenever they wanted, and there were 8 friends of Narnia and one friend of ours (caspian) and they went on adventures on other worlds through the Wood Between the Worlds!! They all lived full lives and Peter got to pursue a career in medicine and Susan believed again, and were happy as they could be!!

[angronsjewelbeetle]

The men. The fish. The legends.

@chaot-c @squishyowl

[zeb-z]

I need this hiatus over stat I’m having Caspian withdrawals

[bloodybigwardrobe]

the how is quiet, a deserted place full of dust and low-burning fires, the cheer of hard-won battle left lingering on the threshold of this ancient place.

in front of a long-cracked stone, caspian falls to his knees before the high king of old. he breathes narnian wine out into the dim light, and stares up into amber-blue eyes that hold every shade of the narnian sky.

freshly calloused hands reach out to hold up his chin, to push back at his hair. the very life of narnia hums where kingly skin meets his, where fingertips brush over bruised jaw and cheek, over cut and bleeding lip. a soft smile with the very world in the corners of a cracking mouth lets the fires around them burn anew.

"you must learn to stand rather than kneel," peter says, amusement a melody that burns caspian's skin. "a king cannot stand on buckling legs at every turn."

"i will learn," caspian whispers, too afraid to break whatever spell has come to rest on them. "i swear."

sword-weary hands tug at his head, then brush down to his shoulders to pull him up. "then you ought to start tonight. the throne does not wait."

peter's voice is gentle, yet feels like teeth atop his ribcage. caspian wishes nothing more than to be pried open by the king-turned-boy and back again. he wants nothing more than for narnia to consume him, heart and all. but he is afraid.

"can't i start with the rising sun?"

peter laughs, turns them ever so slightly, and pushes caspian to sit where the legends saw aslan sacrifice his body to the creeping ice. caspian's body turns tense, awe a potent paralysis, when his tired, wine-drunk eyes watch a myth come true slowly get on his knees before him.

"what are you doing?"

peter's night-and-morning eyes crinkle at their edges. his teeth seem bloodied and sharp. "you must learn to be kneeled to."

caspian wonders if his heart will break through his chest like the fleeing bird it seems to be. "i have been kneeled to my whole youth."

peter shakes his head, reaches out a hand to settle on caspian's shaking knee. "it is not the same."

and caspian knows it can't be, because there is a weight pressing down on his shoulders that he's never felt before. suddenly, it feels as though an enormous beast is bearing down on every inch of him, snapping teeth at his neck and talons digging into his thighs. caspian gasps. in front of him, peter looks on with a smile.

"learn to stand," peter repeats, his voice a blade beneath caspian's chin, "weather the strain." his mouth is stretched wide with teeth that do not belong to the image of a boy, his presence a wall before caspian's trembling body. there is blood where his eyes ought to be. his stare remains unrelenting.

a beast in front, and a beast behind. caspian shakes. "it is too much."

peter laughs, then, still kneeling but looming above like an ancient tree, a cavern stretching far beyond what caspian can see. "stand," he commands again, his voice coming from all around. "stand, caspian, or fall."

there are fangs scraping down caspian's spine, something hard prying its way beneath armour and skin. he takes a breath. something growls.

when he stands, his legs tremble. he doesn't dare to take a step for fear of losing his balance on what suddenly seems like a sword's edge beneath his feet.

but he stands. he doesn't fall.

when peter laughs this time, it is a soft, comforting thing, like the setting sun over the laughing crowds outside. his eyes are once again blue-amber in the firelight, his teeth sharp but human where his lips pull back.

"there you are," he hums, pride and satisfaction louder than the words themselves. caspian laughs full of relief, his eyes wet with unshed tears.

he stands where he was kneeling, and he doesn't fall. he holds out shaking hands and twines them in golden hair. "thank you," he says, even as his shoulders burn under the weight.

peter—the very weave of old narnia, a king of times long past and yet breathing the same air as those that only know him from washed-out carvings and whispered songs—only smiles.

[ragnar0c]

Mary smiling bc she loves guild Ragnarok vs Caspian smiling bc she actually hates guild Ragnarok...

[lighthouseshepard]

chapter four is finally up!

[mossyteacup]

petition: ben barnes fans should be called ducklings

after attending his show in DC, where we managed to pass a tiny duck to Ben Barnes and he called us all Lucky Ducks, I think the jury's out...

we are ben's ducklings, in the ben barn lol

[teamcomet-askblog]

So, how did you all (directed at Midge & Lucas) come up with the name Caspian for him? :o (Either Lucas or Midge can answer!)

[thexzoomxcatx]

I've had Ben Barnes' album "Where The Light Gets In" on repeat since it came out on 1/10. Saw him perform it on 1/19 and it was such a wonderful little bubble of joy that I wish I could live in. This album is a huge comfort right now.

His music is just good for the soul. It just makes you feel so good to listen to it.

I want people to know about his music! I feel like not enough people know and I want to spread the joy!

Come dance to Ben Barnes! The vibes are wonderful over here!

[supernovasilence]

don't look too closely at any part of this edit, but, have something soft.

take this however you wish; personally, I love Caspian-as-Peter's-little-brother so, so much. I'm imagining them in Cair Paravel's gardens--Caspian has had a bad day, and comes stomping out all sulky-teary angry. And Peter sees he's upset, and knows exactly what to do. (He is so like Lucy, Peter thinks sometimes.) He calls Caspian to come sit next to him, and Caspian flops down and of course doesn't object when Peter pulls him into Peter's arms. Peter holds him, and listens while Caspian vents, and, slowly, Caspian calms down, until at last they are just sitting in the sunshine together, talking and laughing and listening to the birdsong.