DEAR READER
Claire Keane
Cosmic Funnies
Love Begins
pixel skylines
★
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
No title available
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
No title available
todays bird
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
trying on a metaphor
noise dept.
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Discoholic 🪩
Keni
we're not kids anymore.
Kaledo Art
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
seen from Poland
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@petervel
#𝙿𝙴𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙴𝙻. a private & indie roleplay blog for PETER RICHARD PEVENSIE of c.s. lewis's the chronicles of narnia series. book based, with some influences from the films and headcanons. medium activity. primarily plot driven. est 250821. written by megaera.
→ 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 : carrd . promo . caspian .
𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐒 : destiny , faith , childhood's violent death , reluctant heroes , the ties that bind , hearts and their heavy burdens .
hello 🧍🏽♂️
taps microphone. whose ankles do i need to chew to get a susan pevensie around here :|
selective mcu - based original character, penned and loved by blue since april 2015! 18+ only, mun is 21+, revamped july 2022!
promo credit: @ashelps !!
excuse me.
NARNIAN STRENGTH?
update there’s a matching benjamin interview and he just used the word ‘narnianized’ in reference to caspian’s film arc. what the fuck
NARNIAN STRENGTH?
they are just coming to their nearest .
#𝐂𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐀𝐍 + #𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋 : heavily affiliated interpretations of caspian x and peter richard pevensie from c.s. lewis’ ‘ the chronicles of narnia ’ novels .
a joint exploration of : trust / devotion / faith , mirror souls , the homeland personified , the sun and the shade , mutual sacrifice as a violent gesture of love , and the stars . beloved by zelda & megaera .
Friendly reminder that this blog is pro-choice and if you don’t think everyone should have full control of their own body, then kindly unfollow me right now and go to hell
LUCY ; @unbelovd···:
𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑 ( … ) in times of turmoil , of joy , of adventure & of loss — could she herself make such a choice , lucy would see all of it through with peter . to lose him as she has so thoroughly convinced herself she may have done is a thought devastating beyond any mend . [ how would you reconcile with his estrangement , had you pushed him away to such lengths ? where does one go after such a tremendous loss ( … ) whose arms does one fall into when those most familiar aren’t the same welcoming place they had once been ? ]
𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒌 ‘ 𝒎𝒉𝒎𝒎 ’ 𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 , though he’s already closed the door in his wake as she was quite sure he would . eyes burn with such a dull , dry ache — weariness & grief an unbearable amalgam at this hour , when nothing stands between lucy & their wrath — yet , for all of lucy’s fears , peter does . brother ; beacon of protection ( … ) [ he’s always watched over you , whether by sitting bedside with book in hand or in wielding mighty arms worlds away . ]
𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 than when an arm opens to her , youngest descending into eldest with a renewed burning in her eyes . face buries into peter’s shoulder ( … ) fingers curling into the robe he’d swathed her in to keep the fabric tight ‘gainst slender shoulders . ❛ ❛ no , ❜ ❜ she laments , words muffled ‘til lucy turns her face slightly to speak . breath catches in her throat , girl doing her most not to unravel . ❛ ❛ i’m dr - dreadful , aren’t i ? ❜ ❜ hand raises ( … ) backs of lucy’s knuckles dragging beneath damp nose as she sniffles .
❛ ❛ 𝒂𝒃𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒇𝒖𝒍 . ❜ ❜ [ there’s too much grief & guilt in your bones , you’re not entirely sure you can keep them all together . your family must think so low of you , ( be so disappointed ) , though not nearly as low as you yourself do . healing this sort of immortal wound takes time ; aslan meant for this . ( why would he want this ? what had they done to deserve this loss ? ) ] ❛ ❛ i didn’t mean to bring us back , ❜❜ she grieves , shaking her head in the slightest . ❛ ❛ i didn’t mean to . ❜ ❜
it kills him to see her like this ; kills him to bear witness to a wound he cannot mend as easily as a bandaid o’er a skimmed knee , a kiss to a papercut . [ this wound , you know , is deep ; this wound , you know , will leave its scars on you all . ] lucy the valiant plasters herself against each contour of his body , as if she’s drowning 'neath each swathe of velvety fabric stitched together in a mismatch of silhouettes to shape his too - big housecoat & his narrow shoulders are her only chance at survival , and peter draws her nearer , plucking a monogrammed handkerchief from the breast pocket of his robe . [ in another life , you pulled fishes from frozen lakes ; eased your bloodied sword out from between motionless ribs ⸻ it , too , had been emblazoned with your name from the start . how can you blame her , for always guiding you down the right path ? ] he should have known better , he thinks , than to plead ignorance in the face of the blood that still seeps from four twin gashes .
❛ lucy anne , ❜ he murmurs , touching the pad of a gentle finger to the underside of her rounded chin & coaxing her face out of hiding with a subtle drop of his lips . ❛ i know that . all of us do . don’t you think for a moment that it was your fault . aslan ⸻ ❜ he falters , now , as if the name is a sin ; as if he doesn’t believe himself worthy to let it take shape ‘pon his tongue . [ was it your fault , then ? if you had fought harder , bled better , would you all still be home ? ] ❛ aslan knew what he was doing , opening that door for us again . besides , you heard the professor ; we’ll go back . one day , we’ll be back . ❜
the hand ‘round her shoulders remains , ever - steadfast as peter presses the hanky into her open palms and drops a mute kiss atop her weary head . ❛ whatever happened . . . whatever will happen . . . it’s out of our hands . all you can do ⸻ for the moment , at least ⸻ is be there for me . just like i will be for you . and perhaps , we might just get through it together . do you think that sounds alright ? ❜
twirling my hair @ all the new quarry blogs <3
CASPIAN ; cairspian·:
his swift but graceless descent towards the floor lacks a narrator , plunging much too fast to recount how exactly the high king peter has managed to sweep caspian off balance ⸺ instead , he thoughtlessly scrambles on the ground in a heap of limbs with a pool of dark hair weaving into green blades of grass . belatedly , the young prince harbors an unnameable distaste for the smile that sweetly adorns their face seemingly hung in the sky like the ubiquitous sun , blazing star in the sky which scorns tanned skin red : delight , he finally names the expression buried in the swelled cheeks ‘neath narrowed eyes . he revels in taking you down . with an aggregating tension besetting his worked jaw , caspian wants for nothing other than a submarine dive into those twin lakes of blue dredging the bait that tugs the corner of his lips , to rip apart the veil that obscures brush strokes composing him , find the man - made strokes in this covert masterpiece .
traitorously , a thought squeaks from ‘tween creaking ribs like double doors eased open , since when have you last seen him smile ? not soon enough . the cracks of a boy in peter’s three - faced veneer is a chalice of wine sprouting from the wastelands ⸺ he nearly indulges in the unknown taste ( its promise of refreshment , intoxication , and impending requital ) before his opposing mind enacts its comeuppance , a foot reaching out to redeem an even smaller reward in the sight of peter clambering towards the ground by the hook of his riding boot .
the young prince doesn’t know what had irked him more : finding a glimpse of what lies beyond his facade , or how much it mirrors his own image . ( these quarreling soldiers will never find their lingua franca ⸺ they suppose it will do enough to study thoroughly these tomes of a different language . ) furtively , he wonders what peter sees in his own unguarded expressions , the mountain of a past looming cotton - gilded shoulders . he hopes for that over nothing .
the balls of caspian’s unschooled palms connect rather brashly with the other’s side in an attempt to roll him on his back , closing their unbearable distance , threading orbits like planets colliding ‘neath the shuddering weight of the universe when he pounces to secure the high king - the hero - the boy in their place on the ground . with knees locked on either side of peter’s lap ( ‘pon which all they must have ever needed falls with such ease ) , his hands conclude their clumsy expedition wildly clutching the collars of their jerkin ⸺ should he end this petty squabbling , claim his victory o’er the heat pinned beneath aching thighs yet never look once into the flame consuming his body whole ?
the rise & fall of his hunched back coordinates with the labored pants forming puffs of hot air atop high king’s shadowed face , making haste to reclaim stolen air ⸺ caspian steels . ( somehow , it feels much too late to decide . )
❛ do you expect me to run forever catching up to you ? ❜ he tastes the nick of a bloody wound at the tip of his tongue as if he’d been spitting daggers before he could stop himself , disarmed so easily that he grapples for some other ammunition only inches from those same twin lakes of blue now frozen over ⸺ yet caspian still feels at risk of drowning . knuckles painted white as the prince tightens his grip , ❛ because i will stop at nothing . even if it seems like i waste my time tiring at your feet ⸺ i will give you all that i have to show for if it proves narnia anything . ❜
is she all that you’re aching to impress ?
sharpened glare drips down like stalactites , piercing hard into the ice . if you want what you have already got : look away . he makes no further effort to question how his own gaze never leaves peter’s even as a droplet of sweat is collected into damp brow . like spitting teeth into high king’s hand , ❛ the telmarine army has strength in numbers . ❜ he finally says , not entirely sure what for . ( what if it’s never enough ? you are a boy , prince , what three you see in him , he sees only one in you . but what other choice do they have ? what other chance will you risk ? )
his body moves before his mind , palms unlatching at a silent command behind his back in a vain attempt to delay his fall ⸻ but peter’s meagre reward for his efforts is an unceremonious skimming of his knees ‘neath his trousers , dirt - embedded scrapes dusting the heels of his hands like a sudden smattering of stars in the skies above at the setting of the weary sun as he hurtles to the ground . [ there will be no healing of this particular wound , you realise too late ; no hope of staunching the blood ⸻ not when his eyes , as the stone knife , cut thin slivers into your skin and prise your ribs open to get at your heart . maybe he ought to see that your face is little more than a mask . maybe it’s better this way . ]
in a second , fluid rush , the prince rolls them onto their back and straddles their hips , lifting them away from the pillowy earth in his movements to seize their collar , and peter’s cheeks tinge red below their pale skin . [ if he dares ask , you will go to your grave swearing that it is the fault of the sun above & not him , restless moon . ] do you expect me to run forever catching up to you ? , caspian asks . peter only just catches himself before he can selfishly , unthinkingly say yes . would it be so terrible , to stay by my side ?
❛ there is a greater strength , still , ❜ he murmurs instead , fingers curling over caspian’s wrist in soothing disruption . ❛ it lies in hope . if you put your faith in them , your strength ⸻ if you make them believe that we have a chance ⸻ the rest will come easily . ❜ like heavy rain incarnate , the bead of sweat at caspian’s brow bends ‘neath the weight of his fury and collides with the swell of peter’s cheekbone , but his gaze remains patiently unwavering . ❛ the telmarines have the numbers . i will not deny it . but i have never once known fair narnia to balk at even the most dire of circumstances . ❜ [ are you with me ? , you had once pleaded . until the very end , came the cry of your people . he , you realise , will be the one to save them again . there is nothing for you to do now but watch him rise , the way you know he will ; the way she tells you he will . ]
❛ i am not here to take your place ; the responsibility lies with you , ❜ peter hedges , tightening his hold on caspian’s wrist ‘till the prince is left with no hope of escaping his clutches without another fight . ❛ but allow uncertainty to enter your heart now ⸻ allow yourself to suffer meaningless distractions ⸻ and you’ll have lost the war already . they will believe this is worth fighting for , prince caspian . but only if you do the same . ❜ and i ⸻ i ask for nothing . give it all to them . all at once , his hand falters , releasing the prince from his desperate grasp . ❛ will you do this , for me ? ❜
cc | in the end sacrifice means nothing
(insp.)
ZELDA ; hyliacursed·:
it is a colossal understatement to declare zelda merely satisfied with the events unfolding, they are overjoyed& incredibly relieved. as high king peter detaches from them entirely — increasingly complex footwork all forfeited to his seemingly thinning patience in dealing with zelda’s purposeful affronting — well, they finally feel just as celebratory as the event of which he attends, knowing they’ve won a battle which supposedly bestows upon the royal highness their well-earned leisure from the stuffy evening.
he’d come here on ‘ king edmund’s ’ behalf. of course. narnia had instead wanted to send their best men to inspire a lasting impression on hyrule’s temperamental princess, & a lasting impression did high king peter of narnia make. “ how have you wronged me? ” they ask testily, uncaring to the dancers in their immediate vicinity now discreetly taking pervasive interest in their quickly tensing exchange. not even the promise of gossipmongers spreading tales of the princess’ tyrannical tendencies ( of which is unfit for a well-tempered ruler, surely, ) has deterred them from arresting high king peter’s soulful gaze like their demeaning stare could reduce him into ash.
“ you’re no different from the rest of them. while the present was a charming touch, i’ve had my fair share of sickeningly sweet gestures from nobles of various backgrounds — enough to recognize a ridiculous, contrived display of flattery when i witness upon it. ” they rummage through the spacious void hidden inside their frock to retrieve the present in question, pointedly waving it around before peter’s face as if it has amply evidenced towards any ill will, “ it is within my country’s best interests for me to wield at least half a mind investigating whether or not you truly deserve a wick of my sincerest gratitude. ”
they ( quite characteristically ) stomp their foot on the marble flooring with an ire that holds their temper hostage whilst recalling the details of their uneventful conversation — they huff as if such a thing drains them of their very breath, “ you can’t even dance, for one. you don’t even know the land of which you covet. i presume you don’t even know my full name. ”
“ it’s the royal highness zelda macaire of hyrule — if you hadn’t known that, then how could you, like all the wily nobles before you, even hope to someday court the princess of hyrule, much less take my hand in marriage? ”
they’re finally being forthright , at the very least : peter’s never liked playing games , not ones with missing rulebooks , and certainly not those he has been set up to lose . when the relief comes , it is near - blinding ⸻ it does not , however , make him lose his way ; snow white abandoned in a forest unknown .
❛ your hand in marriage ? ❜ peter repeats incredulously , brows knitting together with the evolution of his expression into unabashed bewilderment , set ‘pon a canvas of hard stone as his eyes dance from the leather - bound book [ wafting dangerously close to your nose , you notice ] to their highness’s accusatory stare ; if he notices the stamp of their foot , he does not react . ❛ princess , i’m gay . ❜ it’s the first time he has unclasped his hands & shared the secret tucked away ‘tween his palms with anyone other than his siblings ⸻ the first time he’s ever needed to , really ⸻ but he feels all the more lighter for it , heart fluttering in his chest like a songbird newly unfettered from the depths of its gilded cage . [ this is who you are , peter the high king . you needn’t hide anymore ; not here . ]
❛ moreover , edmund is all of thirteen ⸻ i’m afraid to tell you that neither of us would make particularly suitable matches for your highness . ❜ not for the first time since he’d disembarked onto hyrulian shores from the splendour hyaline , peter is beginning to fear that perhaps words fail ⸻ but he presses on after a moment of weighted contemplation , fingers closing the distance between them to dance o’er the spine of zelda’s makeshift weapon . ❛ i’d like you to keep the gift , if it would please you , but there’s clearly been some sort of misunderstanding between us : i’m not here to take anything away from you , your land least of all . ❜ [ you already feel as if you play the role of imposter in your own pocket of paradise , you think ⸻ you would be a fool to even dream of taking another’s away from them . ]
there’s a contemplative pause as he tips his head o’er the edge of the chasm before which the two of them stand , now , as if to measure the length of the impending fall . it’s only when the high king finally leaps that he cracks a brief , near - imperceptible smile ; the veneers of a soldier giving way to youth once more . ❛ perhaps you would have had more luck tonight in inviting my sister . ❜
i made this gif like four months ago and i still have no clue what to do with it but it’s pretty so i’m forcing everybody to look at it :gun:
loving life rn <3
