#sam reads capri

[lucky-clover-gazette]

captive prince short stories highlights & annotations

pet

(takes place during book 1: captive prince)

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

Ancel was a virgin the first twelve times he had sex. The thirteenth time, it lacked all plausibility.

‘You could buy out my contract.’ ‘How much?’ He made up a figure. There was no Lord Arten. Ancel landed his first contract that day: three months of his time, signed over to the merchant’s son.

‘I’ve never done it in public before,’ said Ancel. ‘You’d be my first.’

ancel leveraging subcategories of his virginity. smart

‘You’re not going to take him away from me, you slut,’ said the boy sweetly, murmuring the words too quietly for anyone else to hear. ‘Too late,’ said Ancel.

vere sucks. but i think ancel is playing the system more effectively than like anyone else there

Was this how men felt fucking him? No wonder they paid a fortune for it.

Fucking Lord Rouart, fucking every lord here. Being watched by everyone while he did it was like a blinding white light.

veretian society fucks ancel, ancel fucks veretian society harder

The room exploded in approval, cheers, calls of his name. He could hear shouts of suggestions, ribald calls to Lord Rouart in the thick excitement of the crowd.

there have to be at least a few people in vere who are not into this, but just kind of playing along to keep their—wait isn’t that the other guy in this short story

He was going to meet his new owner, and his new owner was going to fuck him.

ancel does not understand how cs pacat writes sex and power dynamics. nobody ever gets what they think they’re going to get

‘So, you saw me in the ring, and decided that you just had to have me,’ said Ancel. Berenger looked up. ‘No. I hate the ring.’ The words were matter-of-fact. ‘Parsins, hand me my jacket.’

i think i am going to really like berenger.

‘How old are you?’ As if Ancel hadn’t spoken. ‘Sixteen.’ Berenger gave him a flat look. ‘Twenty,’ said Ancel, the truth coming out with a flash of annoyance that he had to work hard to keep out of his voice.

He tried to recover. ‘And you?’ said Ancel, in his most velvet voice. ‘Now that you have me, what are you going to do with me?’ ‘I’m riding to Ladehors.’ Berenger was walking right past him, he was—was he leaving?

most normal guy in vere

Ancel had seen with his own eyes that Berenger owned six identical copies of the same brown jacket.

oh i love this character

He was dressed in a loose shirt of simple white linen and plain trousers, his red hair tied back in a casual tail with a single leather tie. He looked up when he heard footsteps, and then stood quickly, closing the book. An unaffected young man, rising startled to greet his friend. ‘My lord,’ said Ancel. ‘I’m sorry, I—you took me by surprise.’

this is so funny. ancel pretending to be what he thinks berenger wants him to be, which is just like another normal guy

'Oh this?’ A hand to his mussily tied back hair. ‘I wasn’t expecting you back so early. I can change into something more—’ ‘No. You look handsome.’ Berenger stopped and shook his head. ‘That is, when we’re not at functions, you should feel free to wear whatever you like.’ ‘Thank you, my lord,’ said Ancel. It was Berenger who took a step forward. ‘You’re reading Isagoras?’ Berenger was looking at the discarded book with its scrollwork pages. He looked up at Ancel in surprise. ‘What do you think of him?’

i like how ancel is doing a reversal of the makeover trope. he was hot and glamorous before, and now he’s trying to make himself look like a boring nerd

Ancel couldn’t read, but he had planned all this from the moment Parsins had pointed the book out to him.

LMAOOOOOO

Ancel ate the plain food with the good manners of a merchant’s son, and none of the teasing flirtation that marked his own profession.

what are you talking about, there’s never been a mention of homoerotic bread eating in this series before

It happened in the library one night several weeks later, as Berenger was talking about politics. Ancel nodded and half listened while Berenger said—blah blah the Prince, blah blah the alliance with Akielos—

‘In the end, aren’t we all looking for someone to be loyal to?’ said Ancel, softly.

ancel really just went down the checklist of things he was told berenger likes (loyalty in friendship in this case)

also, a note from post-reading the entire story sam: YES YOU ARE, ANCEL.

‘Is that what you want?’ said Berenger. ‘It’s what I never thought I’d find,’ said Ancel, ‘until I met you,’ and it was happening, finally, it was finally happening, the two of them drawing closer in the firelight, Ancel’s arms sliding around Berenger’s neck, leaning in to— ‘Ancel—no.’

‘You may have made assumptions,’ Berenger spoke first, not looking at him, ‘after I bid for you in the ring, but I—’ For a moment, Ancel didn’t understand. And then suddenly the rejections and the refusals made sense. ‘It doesn’t have to be like it was in the ring,’ Ancel said in rush, relieved to have discovered the root of the problem. He hastened to reassure Berenger. ‘I don’t have to be the one who does that.’

ancel i don’t think this is a top/bottom thing, i think berenger isn’t drinking whatever horny flouride they have in the water in vere and is just disinterested in the pet stuff

He waited for Berenger to get it. Berenger didn’t seem to get it.

because that’s not what berenger meant!! this dynamic is very fun. extremely self-assured and aspirational guy who only knows how to leverage sex and schmooze, vs chill-ass guy who is not really trying to get anything out of anyone and therefore not thinking or trying too hard

‘You can fuck me,’ Ancel explained. Berenger’s eyes went wide. Was that the wrong thing to say? ‘I’ve always done it that way before. It’s what I’m good at.’ That was the wrong thing to say, too. ‘I mean, I want you.’ That was better. He should have said that first. ‘I want you.’ He moved a step closer, made it personal. ‘The way you want me.’ ‘Ancel, you don’t have to—’ ‘I want you to fuck me.’ ‘That isn’t what I want.’ ‘Then what do you want?’ Ancel said, in pure frustration.

world’s first reverse beard has been invented

‘In six weeks,’ began Berenger, ‘I’m attending court. As a single man, I need a pet to attend dinners and functions with me. For propriety’s sake. That is all. I don’t expect intimacy in private. In fact I prefer in private that you—that you and I—’ ‘Court?’ Like a flower inclining towards sunlight, Ancel’s whole attention swung to the thought. He barely heard the rest. ‘You’re taking me to court?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘The royal court. At Arles.’ ‘Yes.’

such a fun premise for this story. ancel has a reason to stay (social climbing), berenger has a reason to need ancel (appearing to follow customs). surely they can help each other accomplish their goals while keeping this impersonal and professional, with no eventual mutual understanding or friendship or romance.

‘Well, I’m going to need a lot more jewels,’ Ancel said, his annoyance returning with a snap. ‘I know you like boring young men in cotton shirts, but I can’t wander around the palace looking like this.’ Berenger was staring at him again, like Ancel was a stranger he was meeting for the first time. Ancel lifted his chin. ‘What? I intend to make the most of our time at court. I am incredibly good at my chosen profession. Not that you’d know that.’ ‘It’s possible I didn’t realise how good until now.’ Berenger was still gazing at him with that new look in his eyes. After a long moment, ‘Do you even like horses?’ ‘I can’t read,’ said Ancel. ‘I see,’ said Berenger.

okay yeah i LOVE this. mask off for ancel, meanwhile berenger hadn’t even bothered to pretend in the first place. i mean he’s pretending in front of the court, but not ancel. it’s just nice that they’re on the same team, unlike SOME PEOPLE i’ve read about during this rough period of time in vere

The next morning, Ancel threw away the plain white shirt and the simple leather hair tie, and came down to breakfast in the clothes that he liked: exquisite silks and velvets that felt good against his skin, wearing his hair pampered and long and out. Berenger didn’t say, ‘I see,’ but the implication was there in the heavy weight of his regard as he looked at Ancel across the table. Ancel lifted his chin, ignoring all the uninspired foods that Berenger liked and biting into a fruit tart.

this story has done a great job of making me like ancel and berenger in a short amount of time. strong moments of characterization (the fruit tart, the jackets, etc), more simple and less subtle than damen and laurent, but still very fun to notice and appreciate

‘The horse I chose for you has arrived,’ said Berenger. ‘She’s a strawberry roan named Ruby. I wonder if you’ll like her.’

berenger and ancel’s first official date is a chappell roan concert. red hair and horses.

For his part, Ancel stopped trying to seduce Berenger, and started enjoying himself.

Perhaps Berenger preferred women.

i don’t think this is where the story goes, but i would actually kinda like if they were just friends, and that was in fact the case. or even better, ancel assumes berenger is straight and that’s why he’s not interested, but berenger is eventually like “no i like men, i’m just not attracted to you” or "i don't like my partners being 10 years younger than i am"

Every commoner in the province had a story about Lord Berenger: Berenger had remembered the name of their child; Berenger had stayed with them through the birth of their prize colt; Berenger had helped them with the purchase of equipment when they had none, saving the harvest.

berenger could not have been involved in the main series. i think he’d break the reader’s brain compared to laurent because he’s just like. a normal and decent person despite the horrors, and not trying to hide it beneath a million layers of complicated bullshit

‘No. I meant that the court has changed,’ said Berenger, shaking his head, ‘since the King died. The Regent’s influence—’

hate that guy

‘What?’ said Ancel. ‘Luxury suits you,’ remarked Berenger.

god i wish this could stay platonic. THAT would be the true subversion!

note from post-reading the entire story sam: with the full image we eventually get of ancel, i actually think it's even better that berenger admits that he desires him. it would feel kind of like a cop-out for the answer to ancel's unspoken question of "would anyone like me for who i am, if my attractiveness was not a factor?" to be "yeah this guy does, but he never would have been into you in the first place." it's even more effective, and even more a subversion of what ancel thinks of himself, for berenger to find ALL of him attractive—his ambition and talent and intelligence, in addition to his looks and performance—and not want to reduce ancel to the sex object that he (ancel) thinks he has to be.

Who was the new pet? How had he come to serve Berenger?

i’m getting the impression that the previous king of vere had not required people like berenger to have pets, but the regent does. which is why berenger hired ancel

Berenger then knelt for the Prince, who was standing to the left of the throne, a severe young man in harsh clothing.

GOD i hope i get to see a little bit of laurent being a withdrawn dryly comedic sitcom side character before damen arrives and it sends him into joker mode

Lady Egere had a horse program Berenger was interested in, so Ancel made her feel like the most important person in the world.

berenger not beating the normal person allegations. like yeah, that is what people do at dinner parties. they talk to other people about shared interests. good job, berenger.

And when everyone was talking about the Prince, and the conversation swerved uncomfortably towards the new Akielon alliance, Ancel stepped in and told the whole table a risqué story he’d heard about Akielon bed practices, diverting attention.

laurent sighs and makes a mental note to be slightly less hostile to ancel for that accidental favor

Even Berenger laughed when he got to the punchline.

‘I love them,’ said Ancel. ‘I’d sleep with you right now. I might even enjoy it for once.’ He stopped. ‘High praise,’ said Berenger, dryly. ‘Of course, with you, I’d—’ ‘Oh, of course,’ said Berenger.

oh NICE moment. ancel admitting that he doesn’t actually like any of this shit he’s doing. and berenger implying that he’s always understood that.

Another day, another brown jacket.

i love the brown jacket as a means of characterization and comedy

‘In blue or red, you could look quite handsome.’ It was something Ancel had noticed on the third morning, in the early light from the window. Berenger had a strong profile, good bone structure, and warm eyes. His waist, where Ancel was lacing, was trim, his body fit from riding. ‘Let me pick your jacket.’ Berenger sounded amused. ‘You don’t like my jacket?’

you don’t like his jacket????

He didn’t let Ancel pick his jacket.

good to know he has his hard limits

They had a good system in which Ancel filched the delicious confectionaries and special sweets and left Berenger all the plain stuff he preferred.

i love this for them!!!

‘I can’t believe you’ve never visited the coupling gardens. Do you feel no desires at all? Come on.’ ‘Ancel, I don’t think that—’ ‘Look, it’s those flowers from that boring poem that you like,’ Ancel announced proudly. He stood in front of the spray of white flowers. Berenger had stopped. The flowers were night blooming, filling the air with a delicate scent.

ancel please don’t talk about poetry in the mindfuck blowjob garden

‘You’re right,’ said Berenger. ‘They’re very beautiful. And rare. In the poem, the lover is given only a single flower.’ ‘What a terrible gift. I’d much rather have jewellery,’ said Ancel, wrinkling his nose. ‘Or clothes. Even the horse was better.’ Berenger’s mouth quirked, his eyes shifting from the flowers, amused and warm. ‘Yes, you’re a little more expensive.’

THEY SHOULD STAY FRIENDSSSS please!!! i want to see their odd couple not a couple adventures as neither of them actually falls in love bc they’re married to the grind (literally for ancel, figuratively for berenger). then again, we know that ancel doesn’t actually like being a pet, so i can see how this ends up a romance that works. but STILL

'I like feeling—’ Like part of it. Like the master of it. Like he had power over the men, like if they wanted him they had to pay a fortune for it. Like he was more valuable than the wine goblet Berenger held, or the silver pitcher a servant had poured from. Like he mattered.

ancel understands exactly how this stronger man/weaker man thing works, in that the weakest man is the one who forces others to the bottom so he can be on top. but berenger doesn’t do that, except for appearances. and he’s very clear that he knows it’s all bullshit too.

‘Perhaps I ought to think of it more like that.’ ‘How do you think of it?’ ‘I think,’ said Berenger, ‘that the only person in this place who shows me their real face is you.’

berenger: i’d probably be happier if i just allowed myself to enjoy the luxury and debauchery ancel: wait so what do you think instead berenger: that this is all fake and stupid as hell, and you’re the only one with the awareness to understand that and use it

‘I can make everyone look at me.’ There was the familiar frown, like an old friend. ‘Ancel, I told you I don’t want—’

“like an old friend” because he IS your friend, because he appreciates you for who you are, not for the ways you can perform

Gasps as they burst into flame, and Ancel tossed the stick high, a spinning wheel of dangerous light.

how did he like. learn how to do this. this isn’t something you can just do on a whim. although i guess it does suit ancel to play with fire

That was part of the thrill, sensuality and danger. He had everyone’s attention now. He tossed and twirled, and it was easy, all of it coming back to him, his childhood days before his profession had changed, before the escalating series of favours, until the moment he had finally agreed to it. You have to pay me extra. It’s my first time.

very effective way to give backstory: he was a performer, and then someone propositioned him for sex, and then he realized the possibilities of going into that kind of work full-time. it put the power in his hands, and people did in fact pay him more when he asked.

‘You’re full of talents, aren’t you,’ said a boy’s voice, and Ancel turned. The boy was very lovely and very young, with huge blue eyes and a tumble of brown curls.

my heart hurts

‘Since you like to play with fire,’ said Nicaise.

extremely bittersweet to have nicaise say one of my own thoughts

‘I’ve heard that Berenger likes women, and that he disappears sometimes from court, so that he can—’ Ancel flushed. He left the main hall and made straight for Berenger, who was sitting in an adjoining antechamber, on one of the long reclining couches, amid a handful of acquaintances, talking in small relaxed groups. ‘Kiss me,’ said Ancel as he settled, one knee on the couch on either side of Berenger’s thighs, his hands linked behind Berenger’s neck. ‘What?’ said Berenger. ‘On the mouth,’ said Ancel.

yeah they invented reverse bearding

Berenger was beginning to frown. Ancel thought, with a burst of irritation, I know you don’t want to, but can’t you just pretend? How hard was it? Ancel pretended all the time. Berenger had a reputation to maintain. But if Ancel said that, Berenger would probably reply with something idiotic like his own reputation didn’t matter to him.

ancel is so perceptive, compared to damen it’s like. jarring

It didn’t feel impersonal. He was instead extremely conscious that it was Berenger that he was kissing.

uh oh

His lips were tingling from kissing Berenger, and that didn’t seem to make sense.

UH OH

‘Like you mean it,’ said Ancel, and kissed him again.

UH OH!!!!

‘My lord,’ he said, and he sounded turned on, which was how he was supposed to sound. ‘Berenger.’

love ancel being in denial about having feelings

Ancel closed his eyes. He could imagine exactly what Berenger liked, lovemaking in the dark with a young man in a plain shirt. If they ever—Ancel would have to feign at least a degree of innocence, physically experienced but emotionally unprepared, looking up at Berenger and saying it’s never been like this before. He imagined that: imagined Berenger kissing him in private. A strange shaky feeling grew in him. Berenger would kiss with the same seriousness as he was now, he probably fucked like that too, strong and steady. Berenger’s voice in his ear, roughened. ‘You’re so good at faking it.’ ‘I know,’ Ancel said. ‘I know I’m good.’

ancel is down BAD for this brown jacket man, holy shit

‘How long do we have to stay here?’ Berenger said. ‘What?’ said Ancel. ‘How long do you normally take?’ said Berenger.

wait. so ancel in the garden scene. was half trying to make berenger jealous and half trying to convince himself that he’s better off doing what anyone else but berenger would ask him to do. and failing to convince himself entirely. LOVE that alternate perspective, so cool!!

It took a moment before he understood the words, and their meaning. But the way Berenger was standing off from him, like a man who has had his evening interrupted for a charade in which he has little interest, made everything clear. Ancel pushed down the feelings in his chest, closing his eyes briefly.

ouch

‘All right,’ said Berenger, and stood there, awkwardly. Ancel heard himself say, ‘Unless, do you want—’ Me. Do you want me.

i love how free will continues to be a theme in this series, even when we’re not discussing damen and laurent. specifically regarding desire and attachment, romantic and sexual. ancel doesn’t actually want to be the person he pretends he is, lowering himself beneath his masters and helping them get off on the power they have over him; he wants to be understood and wanted for his whole self. and berenger is like the only person he’s ever met who has wished to see him as something other than a sex object or performance piece, the only person who doesn’t wish to intimately possess or control him. berenger seems to want to experience love on even footing, which in vere is highly unusual. no wonder ancel is desperate for his interest, when his interest is actually REAL.

He thought, he could make Berenger like it.

free will theme again! he made berenger like it, it wouldn’t be real. and ancel wouldn’t like it either.

‘I think we both know this isn’t working,’ Berenger said in a low voice. ‘This,’ said Ancel. Berenger wasn’t looking at him. ‘I’ll pay out your time in full. We can separate after you perform for the Patran delegation. You can tell people your contract simply came to the end of its time.’ ‘You’re ending our contract,’ said Ancel.

BRUTAL. and the thing is, berenger is being kind and selfless here. ancel has told him with words and actions that he only cares about upward social mobility, and has made it seem like berenger is holding him back. berenger is putting himself at a huge disadvantage in the regent’s court by letting ancel find another employer, but probably feels like this is the best way he can genuinely honor ancel’s stated wishes. sad little miscommunication moment, although i don’t think it’s fully that trope because ancel only subconsciously realized how he feels like five minutes ago

‘Everyone will want you after your performance. You won’t have trouble finding men to bid for you—’ ‘I know,’ said Ancel. ‘I’m the best pet at this court.’

ancel does his fire dance to “my kink is karma” by chappell roan as he desperately tries to repress his feelings

He didn’t know why, but the next day when Ancel saw Berenger talking in a low voice to Lord Droet’s pet, it made him angry, and he stalked out of the stuffy, overlit rooms, into the cool shade of the gardens.

oh, captive prince chapter 5 dubcon (and that’s generous) scene that damen took way less seriously than myself or even laurent because he (damen) grew up with sex slaves so this is kinda normal to him. oh, captive prince chapter 5 dubcon scene that, despite its problematic nature, was and still is extremely compelling to me, by which i mean unfairly hot

It was the Ambassador to Vask, her face familiar to him from a dozen evening entertainments. Ancel knew her sculptured style of dress well, the Vaskian elements she incorporated into her clothing. She had the straight-backed posture and poise of a woman used to power.

VANNES HIIIII VANNES

Vannes spoke. ‘You and Berenger are utterly mismatched. And you’re clearly ambitious. I hope you won’t hurt him too badly when you move on.’

she sees the version of ancel that he knows is wrong for himself, but he’s leaning into it because berenger’s kinda-rejection hurt so bad

Everyone would think what Vannes thought, that Berenger couldn’t hold Ancel and Ancel was moving on to someone better.

i like how this is so high stakes to ancel, for good reason, but we know that there are way higher stakes batshit insane things happening with damen and laurent right now. but ancel doesn’t care about damen and laurent. he cares about himself and berenger. just a really cool way of showing another pov for the same story!

Ancel thought of the impossible. For pets, it was epitomised by one man. The Prince. The Prince, who had never taken a pet. The Prince, who had never taken anyone, or been taken, so they said. They said he was frigid, that he had ice in his veins, that pets failed to interest him. But there was one person who had the Prince’s complete attention.

YHRWYOEGRUYWEGRUYWERHBFSDF

By the time Berenger and the others arrived, Ancel knew exactly what he was going to do.

i LOVE having this context, wow! it doesn’t really change the nature of the original scene, but adds dimension in a super satisfying way. i also really like how this works with the general vibe of book 1—it feels so isolated and depraved to read, you’re wondering “holy shit is everyone here besides damen just a terrible person?” and that’s the point, but with this addition from another perspective it’s like, hey, berenger was there the whole time. normal nice decent guy, caught up in the same shit as everyone else. who had only been trying to be kind to ancel and give him what he wanted, and most certainly did not want him to do what he does here. it reminds me of loyse, and the way she’s incorporated into the main series—so much of damen and laurent’s experiences early on are defined by struggling alone, but they’re both less alone than they thought, both in terms of sympathetic company and people dealing with the same problems they have. this is seen both in the way they are with each other, especially with the slow burn of 'Laurent is Not As Bad As Damen Thought He Was With More Context,' and the way people like loyse are slowly revealed by the narrative. it's just neat. if i ever re-read captive prince, i’ll be like, “oh it’s berenger!!!” and the scene will, in some small way, feel less isolated.

Physically imposing, and dripping with disdainful pride, he looked as though he could break any handlers in half.

love this description of damen as having “disdainful pride,” because so much of his internal narrative is considering himself a victim, which he is. but also, he is very disdainful towards this society, and prideful about his own. damen himself admits that he had prejudices and misjudgments towards vere and blind spots regarding his own society at the end of king’s rising, and it’s cool to see ancel get that impression immediately.

The younger blond slave pressed his forehead submissively to the floor, a pose that seemed designed to make you want to step on his head. Ancel found himself unaccountably irritated by the passivity.

obviously both systems are bad, but if you read my main series annotations you know i’m very much in agreement with ancel here

Berenger was frowning.

normal! reaction!

He looked scornful and unimpressed when his eyes passed briefly over Ancel, Berenger and Vannes. His only movement was to shift slightly, a rearrangement of muscle.

i looooove seeing damen from the outside, wow

Arriving in the bower, the Prince of Vere was instantly commanding, with nothing soft or yielding in him. A young man with golden hair, cold blue eyes and an arresting profile, he had a pet’s looks and a Prince’s bearing, laced up tighter than Berenger, in dark, severe clothing. He looked capable of mastering the slave through force of will, as though the slave’s discomfort was his pleasure.

good to see, in this case, that laurent is very much perceived exactly how he is trying to be perceived. we know that this is for his own safety, and it isn’t harming ancel at all. unlike in captive prince book 1, where damen is being directly harmed by laurent and his rancid vibes, albeit for stronger reasons (he knows who damen is) than either damen or the reader understand.

‘Ancel, no. He could hurt you.’ Ancel ignored Berenger, and spoke to the shoulders and back of the Prince.

this is so cool. when i read the original scene, it seemed like berenger said this out of like, petty distate for akelions and maybe jealousy. but now we know it’s because berenger thinks that this is all fucked up, and doesn’t want ancel to get hurt by his own ambition

‘Would you like that?’ Berenger frowned. ‘No. I wouldn’t.’

“would you like that [i get hurt]?” oh ancel :( and you know that he thinks berenger would, or at least wouldn’t care either way. because ancel is just 20 and emotionally undeveloped and seems not to have been truly cared for in his life

again, i assumed originally in this scene that unnamed berenger said “no i wouldn’t” because of jealousy. but that isn’t true! berenger already told ancel that he can leave! he just actually cares about ancel!

The Prince turned, and Ancel found himself the sole subject of the Prince’s attention.

i like that we know he isn’t, because the only living people capable of completely hijacking and consuming laurent’s large capacity for thought are the regent and damen

‘I think your master would prefer you intact,’ said the Prince.

in captive prince, it adds, “said laurent, dryly.” but it’s not dry to ancel, he doesn't want to acknowledge the fact that laurent is deeply unamused

‘You could tie the slave up.’ He saw the moment the Prince took in the idea. There was something more in the Prince’s eyes, something private, though it was only there for a moment, before the Prince’s expression hardened.

well yeah, but he’s not thinking about you, ancel.

Ancel looked Berenger right in the eyes. ‘Tell me how you want me to fuck him.’ ‘I don’t want you to fuck him,’ said Berenger. ‘I do,’ said Ancel. ‘I want to do it with you watching.’

new dialogue, things damen didn’t hear! i think i kinda explored what’s going on here in previous annotations

You mean with the Prince watching, Berenger didn’t say.

this is strange. at first it seems like uncharacteristic pov head jumping, but then it’s like no, this is what ancel THINKS berenger isn’t saying. ancel cannot imagine that berenger’s reluctance here could be for any other reason than, like, petty jealousy of the prince. when in reality berenger just cares about ancel and doesn’t want him to get caught up with insane terrible people

Instead, Berenger frowned in that way that he had, turned to the handlers, and gave some instructions about safety.

so they DO have safe words in vere. although maybe berenger just invented them, that sounds like something he would do

Drawn by the rarity of the spectacle, a few other courtiers had drifted over, and then a few more, a small audience gathering.

love the mention of rarity, since damen assumes that this is totally normal

Ancel didn’t need Berenger. He was going to do it with the Prince’s slave, in front of everyone. No other pet had ever won the Prince’s attention.

ancel i know you were just dumped for the first time but this is not the slay you think it is

The slave’s eyes lifted to meet Ancel’s for a moment, radiating fury, before he turned the full force of it on the Prince, who just stared back at him coldly.

don’t worry about it. they’re fine

He wasn’t a court pet, or a brothel client. He was an Akielon, named for the Akielon prince-killer.

oh my god. imagine ancel’s reaction when he learns that he had unknowingly given the future king of akielos a bj

Ancel could see, as he put his hands on those thighs, that the slave disliked him. That was irritating. Did he think Ancel was salivating to suck his cock? Pets had to do things they didn’t like all the time.

obsessed with the way ancel is projecting berenger onto this. a really neat subversion of the way he intentionally and performatively projected that other guy in order to win his favor. also fun because in the scene from damen’s perspective, ancel is very literally a projection of laurent. neither ancel nor damen are imagining this with the person actually doing it with them. is this what the “mutually unrequited sex” ao3 tag is for

It had been a long time since Ancel had given head, thanks to Berenger’s prudery. It was disconcerting, uncomfortable at first, like he didn’t want to be this close, or put his mouth on it. He pushed past the feeling. He was good at this. He knew what to do and how to do it. The uncomfortable feeling grew. The slave was too stupid to realise he was supposed to be performing.

the way it’s almost a good thing that ancel is uncomfortable right now, because it means that he’s in some small way breaking out of the fucked-up mentality he’s grown up with

love damen and ancel as foils, in terms of pride. ancel takes pride in his willingness to get his hands dirty and perform submission for social clout, damen takes pride in his unwillingness to get his hands dirty (compromise his morals) and give his submission to those who don’t deserve it. but while damen's pride is held up by honor and integrity, ancel's is held up by his own degradation.

How had he ever achieved a court position, with skills this poor? Wasn’t he trying at all?

if you really think about it, damen was a nepo hire

Ancel felt the slave jerk, his cock hardening as the Prince settled himself on the bower seat alongside them.

well, damen, i guess someone noticed how you feel about laurent

i don’t even think laurent fully notices how down bad damen is for him at this point. i think laurent just believes damen is a depraved pervert ruled by his base urges who uses sex slaves and finds him hot just like everyone else and also KILLED HIS BROTHER

‘Like this?’ The wait was deliberate, to make the Prince say it. ‘Like that.’

5d three-way dirty talk happening here. it’s not four ways because berenger definitely has clocked out by now

‘Take it all the way down,’ said the Prince, and Ancel took it deep into his throat.

i like how laurent’s dialogue is slightly different between the two scenes, and damen doesn’t register some of it, and ancel doesn’t register some of it. cool way of writing the different perspectives and showing the things that are distracting both of them, causing them to think about things other than laurent’s words. ancel is mostly thinking about how he can do this in a way that gets him noticed and hired, while damen is mostly thinking about how absurdly turned on he is by laurent being insane

Ancel half expected the Prince’s hand on his head, pushing him down the last inch, but when he glanced up, neither of the men were paying him any attention, their eyes locked on one another.

sorry ancel, they gaze a lot. it’s kind of their thing

He came up without coughing or needing a breath, a cultivated skill that was often admired.

not by damen or laurent, at the moment

It didn’t matter that the Prince didn’t seem pay him any attention, or that he was only a conduit. The slave wasn’t even looking at him. It was what he wanted.

ancel when he lies

The two of them were locked together, Ancel utterly forgotten as he rose unsteadily to his feet.

god that sucks ancel but it’s also so fucking funny (as i said in the capri chapter 5 notes, i am not taking the dubcon as seriously as i could because the book doesn’t take it seriously in this scene. damen’s rage isn’t at the lack of consent, because this is actually pretty normal to him, and not seen as demeaning in his society for a slave to do. i think more than anything else he’s mad at himself for being into this, which means that he’s mad at laurent and ancel for making him confront the fact that he’s into this)

Courtiers crowded around with accolades, comments, and congratulations. ‘You really are the perfect pet,’ and ‘I’ve never seen anyone take it like that,’ and, ‘I’d pay a fortune for you.’

but it doesn’t matter, because they’re not berenger

Berenger had a hand on his shoulder and was staring into his face. Ancel lifted his chin. ‘Did he hurt you?’ The words were short.

😭 😭 😭 😭

‘I liked it,’ said Ancel. ‘I like sucking cock. I’m a pet.’

ancel when he continues to lie

Torveld, Prince of Patras

oh i hate that guy

It was the blond slave from the bower. The insipid, spineless creature who made you want to pinch his skin, or shake him to wake up. Like a useless doe in a forest. Expecting someone else to help him. With looks like that, the blond slave could have owned this court if he’d put any work into it. Instead he was trembling and helpless and waiting for a rescue that was never going to come. It was irritating.

yeah. if not for my distance from both of these worlds, and the fact that i can afford to be more empathetic and thoughtful than ancel, this is about where i’d land too re: akelion slaves. (if you read my previous annotations of the series, i probably don’t have to tell you that.) i just like how strongly and disdainfully this is written, while still within itself being flawed. like he’s right, but it’s a sad kind of right. it’s pointing out the problem but disinterested in a solution. but it isn’t ancel’s job to have a solution, it’s the narrative’s job. and we see that happen, in a very careful slow burn from damen’s pov, during the main series.

i can’t believe people think that this series is slavery apologism. 99% of the time, this series is DETERMINED to hold itself painfully and uncomfortably responsible for the problematic content it contains. and that 1% is different for every person who reads it, based on their personal tastes and values. and that’s good, because even our favorite fiction should be something we engage with critically, rather than passively accept.

‘A whole night with the Regent?’ Ancel twirled the stick. ‘Aren’t you jealous?’ ‘I’m not jealous,’ said Nicaise. ‘You’re old.’

‘Then the Regent will call you to attend him. Everyone will see you sitting with him. That’s what you want, isn’t it? The bids for your contract will go up.’

i’m going to try to remember why this is happening. i know it’s some elaborate and probably petty bullshit. i think it’s something like 1) laurent got his ethics called into question by the guy who killed his brother and then 2) decided to do what damen asked and help the akelion slaves because he knew it was the right thing even though he hated damen so bad, therefore 3) laurent needed to create circumstances that would cause torveld to “save” them from the regent without his (laurent's) direct intervention so 4) laurent antagonized nicaise into making a bet that his (laurent’s) plan to get torveld to take the slaves wouldn’t work and then loudly talked about that plan in front of nicaise, prompting 5) nicaise to arrange a sadistic performance of slaves for the regent so the sadistic regent would want to keep the slaves, therefore winning nicaise the bet against laurent 6) which laurent knew would literally backfire because the fire would frighten the slaves and then prompt to torveld take them out of sympathy and pity. yeah i think that's it

It made Ancel angry. This mewling creature who had been brought to court and lavished with every opportunity that Ancel had worked for, was doing nothing to advance his own career, even now. But in the next moment Prince Torveld was calling the slave over, and—rather than booting him out of the hall—was fussing over him, talking to him, stroking his tousled blond head. Ancel gaped. Prince Torveld was taking the slave into his household? For what? For being too weak to survive at court? The unfairness was terrible. If Ancel had wanly lain down and waited for a rescuer, he would have died in the street.

i really like this short story. i like ancel’s character, and what the story is trying to say. it fits very nicely with the overall series themes about weakness/strength, submission/domination, and free will. also intimacy and trust, although that’s almost by omission.

‘Tell me about your master,’ the Regent said. ‘Lord Berenger.’ ‘He’s boring,’ said Ancel. ‘Serious. Loyal.’ ‘Loyal to my nephew,’ said the Regent. He spoke pleasantly, tweaking Ancel’s hair as he did so. The sharp tug hurt.

WOAH THIS IS COOL. we hardly got to see any of the regent’s private contributions to the complicated vere court nonsense in captive prince (there was that scene where he talked to damen alone, but that might have been it?)

‘Loyal to the throne.’ Ancel’s heart had started beating faster.

i like how the regent equates his nephew with the throne. so different from how he talks to laurent in front of the council. clearly, out of earshot of anyone who actually matters politically, the regent is threatened by his nephew.

‘I’ve heard he’s met with my nephew, several times. What was discussed?’ ‘I couldn’t say. I wasn’t there for the meetings.’ He kept his tone light. ‘So there were meetings.’

berenger you’re so real for that

His mouth felt dry suddenly, and it was hard to swallow. He thought of Berenger in the hall somewhere behind him, wondered if Berenger was looking at him, thought he probably wasn’t. ‘No. I mean that I don’t know—I don’t know what meetings he’s taken.’

ancel can tell that berenger is in danger, and even though he thinks berenger wants nothing to do with him, he tries to protect him

‘Oh dear.’ The tone was disappointed. ‘I thought you were clever.’ The Regent shifted, forcing Ancel to reposition, awkwardly. He was motioning for one of the servants to approach, looking past Ancel as though he was done with him. ‘I am.’ Ancel’s heart was pounding. ‘You just haven’t asked the right question.’ ‘And what’s that,’ said the Regent. ‘If I’m loyal,’ said Ancel.

and here’s the temptation of ancel finally getting what he’s always said he wanted, he just has to throw berenger under the bus. he tries to avoid this by making berenger irrelevant and putting the attention on himself, but we know that the regent does not give a shit about ancel, politically or sexually.

Ancel watched him turn away, watched him enter the darkened part of the rooms that held his bed, beginning to unlace his own jacket. ‘I didn’t tell him anything.’ The words were a blurt, delivered to the back of Berenger’s shoulders. Berenger’s movement came to a halt.

i really like ancel.

‘About you and the Prince. That you’ve been meeting secretly each night. That you’re taking his side, that you’ve offered him funding and passage through Varenne, I didn’t tell him any of that, I thought that you—’

oh shit it’s that deep!!! fuck yeah berenger! wait does that mean that berenger had been loyal to laurent and thinking he was an admirable person for months/years only to see laurent in full sadistic kinky joker mode with a person who he doesn't know is laurent's brother's killer? do you think he was like "oh great, he's actually a freak too. fuck my life"

Berenger turned. Berenger was across the room, his hands on Ancel’s arms, gripping him tightly, his eyes boring into Ancel’s. ‘Stop it. You’re spoiling my clothes. I didn’t tell him. I told you. I didn’t tell him anything.’

oh, ancel immediately thinks he’s going to be punished and stripped of the nice things he’s been given. that’s so fucking sad :(

‘How do you know about any of that?’ ‘Just because I like nice things, and don’t read the boring books you like, doesn’t mean I’m stup—’ ‘This isn’t a game, Ancel.’

most! normal! man! in! this! series!

‘I’m trying to secure my future! I need to go somewhere. After you—after you end my contract.'

true, and explains some of the desperation ancel typically chooses not to acknowledge because of his pride

‘So that’s it. You want gifts?’ Berenger said, in a flat, deadly voice, ‘Are you trying to blackmail me for money?’ Ancel felt his mouth turn to sand. ‘No.’

ancel doesn’t want gifts! he wants a friend!!! i love this story, especially in this shitty world!!!!

‘I don’t want—I told you, I didn’t tell him anything. I wouldn’t. I was your pet, I thought we—I don’t want your money like that—’

going to be HUGE when ancel learns how healthy friendships and relationships work. people just do nice things for each other, and are loyal to each other, because they care and it’s what they want to do

‘You must hate me.’ ‘Hate you?’ said Berenger. ‘Why would I hate you? You’ve always been honest with me. You never tried to hide what you were.’ ‘A whore,’ said Ancel.

oh fuck.

really, really good choice of a word there. it’s easy to get caught up in the insane gimmicks of the veretian court, the slight dark humor to it, the way pets act like they’re playing the game willingly because this is a way for them to be treated well and showered with praise. but deep down, this system exists so they can be perceived as whores, belonging and submissive to people whose power rests on their degradation. and deep down, that’s how they feel about themselves.

goddamn, it is cool to see the worldbuilding expanded upon from this perspective.

‘So what if I am? I’m not ashamed of it. I’m good at it. I can make men want me.’ His voice felt raw. ‘It just doesn’t work on you.’

FREE WILL, POWER, AND TRUST THEMES DING DING DING

Berenger would be just one more owner, one more man from his past, one more name on a list. There was a hard pressure in his chest that he had to ignore. He would turn and walk away from it, he would move on to the next man, and the next. ‘It works on me,’ said Berenger.

okay, i like it being romantic, i think. because just like damen and laurent, their friendship and romance are deeply connected. and i’m glad that these two characters can find each other and be REAL in the midst of the fake nonsense

The words, in Berenger’s honest voice, at first didn’t make sense.

ancel can’t accept praise if he knows the person giving it is being honest, understands who he truly is, and expects nothing in return. girl same

‘You’ve never—’ ‘You never wanted me to.’ ‘Is that what you think?’ said Ancel. ‘Yes,’ said Berenger, steadily.

berenger clocked that ancel didn’t really want to be any of this long before ancel did, and has always respected that. i’m glad that he exists in this world.

‘If the Regent prevails, I won’t have money or lands. You should be with someone who can give you the luxuries you deserve, not someone who’ll embroil you in—’ ‘That’s why?’ said Ancel. ‘That’s why you decided to break my contract?’ He made sense of that much. And he clung to it. He wanted to ask, Does that mean you’re not giving me up because you don’t want me? He didn’t know how to ask that. He was usually so good at asking for what he wanted.

this is so fucking good. oh my god, this short story has been like a masterclass of creating a contained and intimate plot that develops a character individually and in relation to another character, while using the world around them to synthesize relevant and gratifying thematic development. it just comes together so perfectly, and simultaneously feels laser-focused and extremely wide in scope. SO good.

‘Can you honestly tell me that you’d want to stay with me if it meant risking your position?’ Berenger said. ‘If I had no money?’ ‘I’ve never fucked anyone without it being for money.’ The words came out differently than he’d intended. The painfully straightforward way that Berenger had asked him that question meant that Ancel had given an honest answer.

they’re matching each other’s freak, if "freak" means “honest person moving towards a healthier state of mind.” meanwhile, damen and laurent—

It was Berenger who spoke. ‘When I saw you in the ring, I thought you were incredible. You were fearless, powerful. You took on every lord in the room, and beat them. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.’

oh i go crazy for “i want to possess you because i am compelled by your unique and attractive qualities and i want to keep you by my side, not because i want to degrade and reduce you until you’re beneath me.” which is probably why i really like the captive prince series by cs pacat, but not like 80% of fiction with similar kink-related premises

‘I don’t care what might happen.’ He was moving forward, because Berenger wanted him.

oh.

those two sentences didn’t quite get me to tear up, but uhhhh they came pretty close

‘If he fails,’ said Ancel. He was stepping into Berenger’s space. He put his hand on the laces of Berenger’s jacket, and Berenger didn’t move away. ‘But if he wins?’

:’) the metatextual conversation this story has been having with the reader the entire time, tied in perfectly with the events at the forefront. really, really well done.

final notes:

not going to lie, i think i liked this short story more than 40-60% of king’s rising. damn.

honestly, i kind of hope ancel and berenger don’t end up together immediately. berenger is still 10 years older than ancel, and is like the first person in ancel’s life to show him respect. what rings truest to me is the idea of them being close friends and allies especially during the turbulent wartimes, and hooking up a few times and enjoying it, but a much more confident ancel eventually considering other partners and at least making more friends. either ancel doesn’t end up romantically with berenger because there’s someone even better suited for him romantically and sexually, or he decides that he truly does want berenger because even though there are other people who would love him for who he is, none of them are berenger. either way, they’re close friends the entire time and it’s very sweet. i like them a lot.

[scoobydoodean]

Honestly I think that a lot of the reason why people view dean as abusive towards jack is because they genuinely think of him as a baby/toddler and not someone with the cognitive abilities of an older teenager/young adult who just happens to not really know much about the world. Obviously there's more to it because people ignore that cas wanted to put jack in the cage and sam wanted to use his power, but I stumbled across a post the other day about how they (the writers and the characters) should've given jack a capri-sun instead of a beer because he's a "literal toddler"... which is just completely incorrect and considering he has the body and brain development of someone who's older, there's no reason to not give him a beer. (also is anyone really a dad unless they give their 3 yr old a beer /j)

Context

It's funny because the whole point of the beer scene is to establish that Jack is not a child and that treating him like one would be ridiculous.

[DEAN grabs and opens a bottle of beer. JACK imitates him.] DEAN Wait, wait, wait, wait. How old do you think you are? JACK 3 days, 17 hours, and 42 minutes.

(From 13.02)

When Jack proves that he has such an advanced understanding of communication and time and such an unusual awareness of exactly how much time has passed, Dean immediately realizes that treating him as if he's a baby makes absolutely no sense because he clearly isn't one. Treating him like a child would be infantilizing, and we see Jack rebel against the notion that he's a baby a few times.

There's some push I think to separate Jack's intellectual abilities from his emotional coping abilities, but even these I think are more or less on track with other young adolescents around the age he presents himself to be when controlling for traumatic experiences. Jack's initial emotional regulation abilities don't read like those of a toddler, but of a young adult who's confused and upset and has been through a lot. Without powers in the mix that he doesn't know how to control, his emotional regulation abilities seem fairly standard for boys his age (at least to me). I don't think for example, that the anger he experiences and the reasons he experiences that anger can be equated with toddler-like tantrums, and any other person whose been around a toddler and sees what kind of things make them furious knows what I mean.

Granted, there are things Jack is naive about that are probably connected to him being "born yesterday". We see this early on when Asmodeus tries to manipulate Jack into opening a hell gate. At the same time, this interaction also highlights Jack's innate sense of right and wrong as a counterbalance. I personally find it frustrating when people try to take away Jack's understanding of right and wrong (rooted in his love for others) and cast him as a baby to the extent that he isn't even capable of understanding the golden rule, when Jack shows over and over how seriously he takes the personhood of other people and the weight of their lives. This is what allows him to see through Asmodeus's trickery in a very confusing situation, simply realizing, "you're hurting my friends". Jack using his care for others as a foundation to navigate Asmoedus's trickery also serves as excellent contrast to soulless Jack in 14.19. Soulless Jack was not able to grasp that Dumah was manipulating him because he was missing this crucial piece of himself—his love for other people including strangers. Because he was lacking that part of himself at that time, he was unable to grasp that filling someone's body with worms for not wanting to be turned into an angel is horrible and cruel and couldn't be a good thing. His naivety played a role in what happened, but it was the crucial missing soul that actually allowed this situation to transpire. I think a lot of people just straight up think normal Jack also would have been manipulated into killing people for Dumah in this circumstance and I really just don't think that's true at all.

[samantha-and-nellie]

i finally read “the lilac tunnel: my journey with samantha” (shoutout to @cannon-memely for letting me know that i should actually take the time to check it out!) and i have Thoughts. full reactions from reading it under the cut

to preface this (since there is going to be a tiny bit of snark and general silliness), i did overall have a good time reading this book! i have some qualms with the storylines they chose to put in there, but i do think that the journey books are one of the smarter moves they made during the beforever era. i remember really loving the “you choose” history books as a kid, and i think the interactive component is appealing and generally a great way to keep children engaged. i could absolutely ramble on more about historical fiction for children, but let’s just jump into my (semi-chaotic) thoughts about “the lilac tunnel.”

first of all, FASCINATING that samantha apparently has a swing at grandmary’s house, since i’m pretty sure that it’s never mentioned in the original books. do we think it was lydia and gard’s, or do we think gard (or even hawkins) put it up for sam?

samantha’s got ORPHAN SYNDROME and she’s got it bad

okay. this is probably my main gripe with this book, but having this book set pre-nellie (and thereby having on option to essentially be nellie but under grandmary’s employment???) is bizarre af

on the flip side, the fact that nellie isn’t around really highlights how lonely samantha is, and i think we all know that I’m SOOOO normal when it comes to themes of grief and loneliness in samantha’s stories

WHY TF DOES EDDIE HAVE SUCH A LARGE ROLE IN THIS STORY. DEAR GOD PUT HIM BACK WHERE HE CAME FROM

elsa??? having a prominent role in a samantha story??? what sorcery is this???

yeah, super duper excited to have it reinforced that samantha is ready to accuse servants of stealing so long as they aren’t the servants that she likes

i think we’ve all had nightmares in which eddie ryland appears

samantha having an understanding of the fact that she’s transgressing by being friendly with a servant girl when this book is set prior to her relationship with nellie makes me wonder how much child workers she has tried to befriend /hj

saint louis fair mention for the movie girlies:)

i wonder if the description of grandmary’s outfit on page 30 is meant to be a reference to this dan andreason illustration of her?

the magic lantern show is really cute:) (might be thinking about writing fanfic of this but with nellie…)

samantha being shorter than the protagonist of this story after being the tall one with nellie is honestly pretty funny. smol bean samantha

awwwww gard and cornelia

HEY HEY HEY 

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

BEFOREVER I’M ABOUT TO THROW HANDS

anyways, apparently we need to re-traumatize samantha with near-drownings at every chance we get:) this is not messed up at all:)

guess we better pretend like that never freaking happened

… okay the locket origin story is pretty cute

this book has such insane emotional whiplash. what do you MEAN one piney point storyline is about nearly drowning and the other is about a moonlight swim with cornelia?!?

someone should really draw fanart of samantha wearing the protagonist’s capris (big bow and all)

tbh, kinda confused by the bike plot line in this story, cause didn’t they incorporate the bicycle short story into the main beforever books?

new career path dropped for samantha, folks! (medical field)

mmm the fear about illness is getting a little too relatable here

i love how much dress up there is in this book:) literally would’ve rocked my world as a child

not the ENTIRE RYLAND CLAN coming over for dinner. a formal dinner with eddie actually sounds so horrific

… guess that’s the note we’re ending on for me. thanks for reading my rambles, and feel free to let me know if there’s other journey books i should check out in the future!

[theroyalthrones]

Behind the Scenes | Vandeleur HQ |Capri, Orillia

beginning | previous | next

Authors Note: I Highly recommend reading this chapter while listening to the song for the first part. It nails the atmosphere for this particular part of the story on the head!

Just Like Heaven - The Cure

Transcript Under the Cut

MUSIC IS PLAYING st Like Heaven - The Cure LUCIAN DE'CREMONESI Sighs and groans FRANCESCA ORTEGA What's your problem? I've heard you sigh 4 times in the past 3 minutes. LUCIAN DE'CREMONESI I don't know. FRANCESCA ORTEGA Of course you do. If you didn't, you wouldn't be annoying me with your sighs. LUCIAN DE'CREMONESI Chuckling I didn't know sighs could be annoying. FRANCESCA ORTEGA Oh course they can, no one told you since your some pampered rich kid back at home, right? F4-m4 LUCIAN DE'CREMONESI I'm not pampered. FRANCESCA ORTEGA Laughs Sure Luc, sure. FRANCESCA ORTEGA I just want to make sure you're okay. LUCIAN DE'CREMONESI … I- I like you Francesca. FRANCESCA ORTEGA Wait what! I- LUCIAN DE'CREMONESI You don't have to feel the sam- She kisses him, and he's so shocked his eyes are wide open while she does it. When it's done, she says. FRANCESCA ORTEGA Laughs I like you too, Lucian. LORRAINE DE'CREMONESI If you don't get up right now Lucian! I- LUCIAN DE'CREMONESI Groaning Shut up, Lorraine. Why are you yelling? LORRAINE DE'CREMONESI Scoffs I've been trying to wake you up for 5 minutes! What are you still doing sleeping? I brought a car around, Mom is going to be pissed. LUCIAN DE'CREMONESI Let me go back to sleep, I was living in the best dream. LORRAINE DE'CREMONESI You'll be living in the worst nightmare if you don't get up right now. We're already late enough.

[magicinavalon]

Hey Mia :) hey goose :) remember in December when you were all “oh I could never brainrot over more than one fandom” and “oh Harry styles is just some guy” and when in February you said “I like a few of his songs, but im not like a full fledged fan of his” about Harry styles and when you didn’t have any feelings about Bucky Barnes or Sam Wilson and when you crumpled like ten day old gingerbread when Mona asked you to read trc and how you ended up having a CaPri plot before Mona!??? Hey Mia, hey goose, heyyyy do you remember??? All these things??? Because hi I do 🙂

Hey, hey Atlanta fuck offfffff and have this I hope it makes you cry <3

Sam Wilson: Every time I pick this thing up, I know there are millions of people out there who are going to hate me for it. Even now, here. I feel it. The stares, the judgment, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. And I’m still here. No super serum. No blonde hair or blue eyes. The only power I have is that I believe we can do better.

We can’t demand that people step up if we don’t meet them halfway. You control the banks. Shit, You can move borders. You can knock down a forest with an email. You could feed a million people With a phone call. But the question is, who was in the room with you when you’re making those decisions? Is it the people you’re going to impact? Or is it just more people like you?

I mean, this girl died trying to stop you. And no one has stopped for one second to ask why. You’ve got to do better. Senator, you’ve got to step up because if you don’t, the next Karli will, and you don’t want to see 2.0. People believed in her cause so much that they helped her defy the strongest governments in the world. Why do you think that is? A few people have just as much power as an insane God or misguided teenager. The question you have to ask yourself is how are you going to use it?

[dcforts]

[week 3: i can still recall our last summer]

1.6k, pre s12.

Dean said it was too hot. He’d said it fifty times already since they left the bunker this morning and they were not even halfway through the journey.

He huffed and puffed, saying how uncomfortable he was in his jeans and tshirt and how much he hated his sweaty skin sticking to the vinyl seat. Cas tried to look sympathetic.

“I can’t even look at you right now,” said Dean, his eyes on the road, little drops of sweat above his upper lip. “At least loose the trench coat. I feel like I’m wearing it, it’s making me physically sick,” he said overly dramatic.

Cas indulged him and slipped it off, took off his jacket as well and loosened his tie.

Then he unbottoned his cuffs and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. He did a pretty nice job of it, he thought. He'd had done it a couple of times before, but Dean always said it looked messy and usually rolled them down again to do them himself.

Cas didn't mind that too much; Dean's fingertips travelling up his arms felt different than anything else he'd have ever experienced and he kind of started anticipating it.

Dean must have felt really bad today though, because he didn’t do anything but throw a quick look at him. Despite not being affected by it, Cas could tell the weather was unusually hot and Dean was definitely not used to it. Still, he could do with a change of topic.

Dean seemed to cheer up a bit when they passed a sign saying they were nearing a gas station, but then spent the time it took to get there to complain some more and apologize to his girl for not thinking of getting her a drink sooner. Cas managed to avoid making a comment on Dean talking about his car like that.

The place was pretty much empty. There were only two pumps that looked pretty old and a little store behind them. Dean stopped the car at the pump closer to the road and wriggled in his seat to take out a few dollar bills from his jeans, “I’m gonna get gas, could you go ahead to pay and get me something to drink?”

Cas nodded, “Sure.”

So he stepped into the store where the A/C was blasting and some mellow music was playing in the background. He wandered towards the fridges that held the beverages and spent a while trying not to feel overwhelmed by the choices available.

He knew what kind of beer Dean preferred, but it was too early for that. He scanned the shelves and looked for something that seemed refreshing.

There was one kind of juice that promised to be a "Natural Fruit Drink" and was stored in little colourful pouches. It looked refreshing enough. He grabbed two lemonaded drinks and a big water bottle.

“Would you consider this being a refreshing beverage?”

The old lady at the cash register smiled at him as if he was being funny, “Sure. There’s only one*, right?” she said, winking. She looked like she was expecting a reaction from him, but Cas didn’t know what to say. First of all, he was paying for two pouches.

“Uh –"

“Nevermind, dear,” she huffed a laugh, “you were probably too young to remember.”

That was highly unlikely, Cas thought. Thankfully she was handing him his receipt already so he was able to get away from the conversation with a, "Have a good day, ma’am.”

When he got outside Dean was waiting for him leaned against the Impala. There was no one else still, so he wasn’t in a hurry to free the space and lose the shade of the canopy over his head.

He had his arms crossed and looked like he was thinking intensely. Probably a way to murder the Sun.

He looked up when Cas approached, “What you got for me?”, he said and when he saw what he was carrying, he had the funniest reaction.

He started laughing.

“What?”

“Capri Sun?” he laughed some more, genuinely delighted, “God,” he said, taking one of the pouches from Cas, “Wh-why did you get these?” he asked in a silly voice and didn’t even wait for Cas to reply. “I haven’t had one of these in like – forever.”

He turned the pouch in his hands and then his smile softened and disappeared. He cleared his throat and knitted his eyebrows.

“You don’t like it?” Cas asked, confused by the sudden change of expression. “I also got you water.”

“Uh – no,” said Dean, “No, nothing like that. It’s just –” he was still turning the thing in his hands and not making any move to start drinking it. “These remind me of my mum?” he said like it was a question. He looked up at him and let out a little laugh. “It’s – weird. I can’t really – I mean I was three. I know I can’t possibly remember, and maybe most of the things are like – a wish or a dream or something, but – You know when you get like, memories from tastes and stuff? Like in In Search of Lost Time.”

Cas didn’t really know.

It must have read on his face because Dean snorted, “Forget it,” and kept going, “It brings me back to when I was a kid and – I don’t know.” He looked at the pouch. “I think it was summer? Must have been summer. I don’t even – She’d like, take me to the park, I think. I don’t remember Sam being there, so it must have been the last summer where it was just me and her, you know, before she – ” he trailed off, his hand gently squeezing the pouch. “Yeah. Anyway, I don't even know if it's real. Could be a commercial or something." He clicked his tongue, then finally jammed the straw in the plastic and brought it to his lips.

Cas was still standing there, his hands full, watching him as he drank. There was more to the story and he didn't want to interrupt. Sure enough, Dean added, “Anyway, when she was gone and we got on the road, money got a bit tight. I remember crying and kicking ‘cause my dad wasn’t buying it for me. That I remember well. I remember I learned not to ask for it anymore. So I had kind of – forgotten about it.”

He fell silent. Dean's childhood had been unfair and tragic and if Cas could have had the power to do something to set it right he would have. Dean rarely talked about it so casually. He didn't seem sad like other times, but as he finished his drink, Cas still felt the need to tell him, "I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, I'm not upset," he was quick to reply, shrugging, "I mean, real or not, it makes me feel good." He flashed out a smile, "It's making me feel good right now," he said, raising his eyebrows playfully at him, "Guess it'll remind me of today now too. And at least I'm sure this is real."

“Is today really a good memory?" asked Cas, skeptical, "You complained all the way here. And I thought you said, 'I'd rather go back to Hell than live another day like this.'"

Dean snorted, “Yeah, well," he said, one corner of his mouth going up in half a smile, "the weather is not all there is."

He looked away and walked a few steps to throw out the empty pouch. On his way back he headed straight towards Cas, and came to stand very close to him.

Cas blinked, “Do you want the other one?”

Dean smiled like he was being funny. “Nah, I’ll drink that later,” he said, but still took out of his hands both the water bottle and the juice and Cas didn’t understand what was going on when Dean sent them bouncing onto the backseat from the open window, barely taking his eyes off of him. Cas could not help but stare back.

“What-" he tried to ask, but Dean was already cupping his left elbow with one hand, soon joined by the other and unrolling the sleeve of his shirt. Oh.

Dean lowered his gaze as he worked and Cas took the chance to stare at him from such a short distance, focus on his eyelashes, his sweaty brow, the dark freckles on his skin. He was really close, closer than Cas thought he'd like to be in this heat. Cas' arm dangled by his side like a dead weight when he released it and his right arm was already halfway up in offering. Seeing that made Dean smile a little.

They were really close.

They were really close and Cas kind of wanted to step closer.

“You are so bad at this,” Dean huffed, his fingertips and knuckles brushing his skin. Cas thought it hadn’t looked that bad, but Dean would surely know better than he. He'd almost finished rolling up the other one as well, and he was slowing down his movements.

Cas wished he had four other arms.

"So -" Dean said, taking his time to smooth the last of the wrinkles, "How about a deal? If I start complaining too much, you -", he pursed his lips like he was thinking it through, but he was just trying to be funny. Cas found him funny, "you can play some music, drown out my voice."

"Do I get to choose the tape?" Cas asked, feigning innocence.

Dean looked up to give him an unamused look that said he was taking it too far, but when their eyes met he realized Cas had been waiting for that and was actually holding back a grin.

So Dean puffed a sigh to smooth the smile that was threatening to curl his lips. It didn't really work so he had to look away to hide it.

"Fine," he said in the end, finally letting go of his arm. He gave him a pat on his shoulder as he walked past him. "I'll let you choose the tape." He pointed a finger at him from the other side of the car. "Just this one time."

Cas was fine with that.

*a reference to the 82' commercial you can see here - just a fun a coincidence that it's the same year Dean's referring to :)

@bend-me-shape-me said #deancassummerprompts21 and I said YES

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

20 Questions: Writer’s Edition

thanks for the tag @carpisuns!! (Mayrssa my friend maryssa <3)

How many works do you have on AO3?

145

What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,369,437 (I have been posting since 2011)

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

6 (plus a few misc crossovers). Undertale, Deltarune, Kingdom Hearts, Miraculous Ladybug, ATLA, and Danny Phantom are the big ones

What are your top five fics by kudos?

Your Kitty

Charcoal Lines

Two Hundred and Fifty-Four

The Wrong Balcony

A Secret Worth Keeping

Most of these are marichat lol and all of them are ML. Probably helps that ML is a fandom that's still very active, but also ML fans tend to be much better about leaving comments/kudos overall from what I've seen. I appreciate it :)

(also gonna put the rest under a cut)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

yeah!! I'm not always fast but comments always make my day and I want people to know that :D

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

The Undying, which is kind of a necessity for writing an aborted No Mercy (Undertale) fic. I still think it ended the best it could under the circumstances, but (not really a spoiler) Papyrus and Toriel are dead of course and there's no getting around that ;; So it's pretty bittersweet overall

OH WAIT I 100% forgot about Necromancy, which is a Danny Phantom fic where Sam dies in a ghost attack and comes back as a ghost herself. There's also a good amount of body horror in that one. I think it's still bittersweet, and I don't want to spoil the ending, but it's definitely a lot angstier than my other stuff.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Most of my fics have happy endings so I'm not sure how to rank them haha. My ML fics in particular tend to have very good identity reveal outcomes

Do you write crossovers? If yes, what’s the craziest thing you’ve written?

Very rarely but yeah. Tied between Kingdom Hearts/Megamind (Villain Capri-tiaSUN) and Kingdom Hearts/My Little Pony (Vanitas Does Not Like Ponies) lol. Coincidentally those both involve Vanitas

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yeah but usually it's dumb lol. My Vanqua fics (kingdom hearts ship) tend to get hate for being a rarepair and because im still a fool who posts to FFN (most of my old reviewers are still there). I've also had hate for making Vanitas ace before (it came up late in the fic after he was already in a relationship and people did not like that despite that being. literally what happened in my personal life LOL)

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

nope

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that I know of

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Some of my ML fics have been translated into russian! shout out to translaters you guys are the real ones

Have you ever co-written a fic?

Me and Winter share headcanons so much we're essentially cowriting Undertale stuff lol. Also she beta read a bit of Home Base and fixed it enough I counted her as a cowriter dslkf

I also cowrote Villain Capri-tiaSUN with @ma-tsu-the-male-goddess!

What’s your all time favourite ship?

Vanqua (Vanitas/Aqua kingdom hearts) my beloved. I've been writing them for almost 10 years now so yeah

What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I believe I will finish everything I currently have posted but First Dance, Second Chance is definitely the one that gets abandoned for the longest periods of time between updates oof

What’s your writing strengths?

Dialogue and making fics have angst and humor at the same time

What’s your writing weaknesses?

fight scenes. staying on task with one fic instead of jumping between a million wips. descriptions

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

only if it's specifically meant to not be understood by the narrating character. but even then it can be kind of annoying lol (I put Japanese lyrics in an Undertale fic before because Undyne was listening and had no idea what it meant dksfjs)

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Pokemon. None of those are on AO3 though and they were garbage anyway lol (I really liked N from Black & White). Pretty soon after was Kingdom Hearts

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

you would have me choose between my children I'm very attached to Cast a Shadow and its sequels even though it's by no means my best fic. (I started writing it in 2014 and it shows.) For ML it's probably The Wrong Balcony, and for Undertale I'll say... aaaaa I can't choose actually ;; Let's Do the Mortal Coil Shuffle is my comprehensive post-pacifist fic, so I'll go with that.

Tagging (if you want to):

@marinetteplztakeabreak (whichever blog you wanna do this on), whoever else wants to do this (I can't remember who's been tagged already)

[refinedpclette-a]

(use sam as weapon,,, (please don't- sam will get upset-) it's got the sharp teeth and it can also steal (read: eat) things,,, capri blue)

//maybe if the enemy is sentient foodstuffs,

//but yeah I just wanna show off bullet patterns maybe,,, and Swatch has yet to use that lovely Stars Ring.....

[lucky-clover-gazette]

kings rising highlights & annotations

chapter 3

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

The Regent’s forces were rivers of darker red, driving inroads into their lines, mingling their armies together, like a stream of blood hitting water, then diffusing.

He killed, and it was simply that men got out of his way, or were dead.

He had grown used to something that had been temporary, like the flash of exhilaration in a pair of blue eyes for a moment catching his own. All of that tangled together inside him, and tightened, through the killing, into a single hard knot.

something about the way this is written just hits me in the abandonment issues

‘If the Prince of Vere shows himself, I will kill him.’ Nikandros half spat the words.

nik private twitter venting moment #2

The ground was wet, his legs were mud-spattered above his knees—mud in dry summer, because the ground was blood.

i don’t know man i feel like after a point you have to just be like. hey. why are we doing this again? like yeah i get that fighting in a military force can be for A Cause but unless you’re directly involved in enacting ideological change, aren’t you basically just cannon fodder

On the far side of the field, he saw the flash of embroidered red. That is how Akielons win wars, isn’t it? Why fight the whole army, when you can just—

i’m guessing the part in italics in a previous laurent line, about damen killing auguste at marlas?

He used the little name that Damen had been called as a boy; the childhood name, reserved for intimates.

the fact that is was kastor specifically asking the veretians to call him that…

Damen realised that he was on his knees, his own chest heaving like the chest of his horse.

laurent’s horse will be glad to know that damen’s horse lived. because, as we all know, they’re in love

‘Over?’ The word grated out of him. All he could think was that if the Regent still lived, nothing was over.

it is interesting how, even when he thinks laurent screwed him over (see previous chapter), damen has this uncontrollable rage towards the regent rather than laurent. i think this has more to do with the regent killing his men and trying invade his country, though. and maybe just that it’s easier to hate him than laurent. “regent = bad” is something that’s easy for damen to comprehend right now, while laurent’s whole thing is a lot more confusing and intimate

And with returning awareness, he saw as if for the first time the bodies of the men that he had killed to get to the Regent’s decoy, and beyond that, the evidence of what he had done. The field was a rutted earthworks strewn with the dead. The ground was a churned mess of flesh, ineffective armour and riderless horses. Killing ceaselessly, for hours, he had not been aware of the scale of it, of what he had caused to happen here. He saw flashes behind his eyelids, faces of the men he’d killed. Those left standing were all Akielon; and they stared at Damen as at something impossible.

damen holy shit… i guess that’s one way to reclaim your authority. and he didn’t even mean it as a sign of intimidation, he just wanted to get to the “regent.” who by the way was just some random guy RIP

‘Find the highest-ranked Veretian still living and tell them they have leave to bury their dead,’ said Damen. There was a fallen Akielon banner on the ground beside him. ‘Charcy is claimed for Akielos.’ As he rose, Damen wrapped his hand around its wooden pole and planted it in the earth.

not sure if calling it an akielion victory despite the combined forces is just customary, or intentionally out of spite. i’m leaning on the former, since it’s damen and not laurent we're talking about

The herald came cantering across the devastated landscape on a white, glossy mare with a curved neck and a high, flying tail. Beautiful and untouched, he made a mockery of the sacrifice of the brave men on the field. His banner streamed out behind him, and its blazon was Laurent’s starburst, in blue and shining gold.

here is an excerpt from a post i made while reading king’s rising for the first time:

“damen when he realizes he’s not in a slow burn romance with problematic beginnings, but a complex psychological thriller in which the smartest fictional character i have ever personally encountered has decided to make his life a living hell and also they’re in love with each other but the psychological thriller stuff is way more important to his bitchy blonde nightmare malewife and he is SO down bad and just has to deal with laurent’s mean girls 4d chess petty nonsense bc it’s enrichment for him and damen will kill anyone who gets in laurent’s way and he can’t even pick up the very very VERY clear implications of laurent’s trauma that would probably allow them to reach some kind of vulnerability equilibrium in their relationship”

on a re-read, i think this is a great time to dig into that a little more ;)

SO what i love about so much of laurent’s choices in the next few chapters is the fact that much of what he says and does is entirely petty. like, yes there’s always strategy and trauma and depth as usual, but i think it’s not denying him depth to say that he is 20 years old, this is his first love in the midst of an extremely stressful and messy situation, and despite his own wishes he cannot prevent his emotions from affecting his actions. laurent has had control over so much of the situation with damen thus far, both with the power dynamics between them as master and “slave” and the fact that damen didn’t know that laurent knew who he was. but now laurent knows that damen knows, so all of his previous and future actions are going to be under damen’s scrutiny in that context. they’re equals now, and the secrets reinforcing laurent’s prior cognitive dissonance have dissolved. that leaves laurent vulnerable (especially after being tortured and genuinely letting damen down even if by accident) and emotional compromised (he has no choice but to see damen as damianos, and with that comes all of the auguste baggage and the fact that they’ve already fallen in love and had sex under different circumstances).

all that is to say, the next few chapters are laurent’s mean girls era. he is, again, still being smart and strategic (4d chess), and his feelings are valid and his trauma is real. however, he is also just being MEAN, for the same reasons classic high school movie mean girls tend to be: he feels insecure and vulnerable about his romantic attachment to damen, stressed out by the insane amount of power he definitely should not have, and self-righteous about all the ways the world has conspired against him. regina george might have been the villain of the movie, but she was the hero of her own story. janis and cady methodically dismantled her life as a popular, powerful, and confident person. that’s why she got revenge with the burn book instead of looking inward and acknowledging her own issues, of which there were many. she had a machiavellian view of life, in which mean people always won, and so being mean in retaliation was how she could protect herself from being a victim.

that is laurent’s perspective too, for a lot of this series. we don’t know anything about regina’s backstory, or heather chandler’s (another great example), but we do know exactly why laurent has the worldview he does. he used to be sweet and it made him a victim. so he is mean to protect himself, even if that robs him of his sweetness. damen’s integrity and honor have challenged laurent’s worldview, though, and that has been the source of a lot of laurent’s slow reconsideration. but now that laurent can’t just pretend that damen isn't damianos, now that he has to accept this situation in its full interpersonal and political messiness, he isn’t nearly as inspired. laurent assumes, now that laurent has gone “mask off,” that damen will realize that laurent doesn’t deserve the love he has shown him in the past. because laurent has been mean to damen, by lying about his awareness even at the times damen thought he was being earnest and sweet. that makes damen a victim and fool—two things laurent deeply fears being, and therefore assumes everyone else also fears in themselves. two things the regent had wanted laurent to consider himself, by placing damen in his life in the first place.

therefore, in his insecurity and vulnerability and anger, as a 20 year old just experiencing his first love, as someone with a lot of power and stress who cannot waste time or energy on genuinely confronting his own flaws in good faith, laurent is gearing up to be sososososo mean to damen specifically in the next few chapters. like comedically mean. aimlessly mean. pathetically mean. on purpose. ultimately, if he must be alone (which he obviously must, says laurent's brain), laurent would rather be the villain of someone else’s story than a victim in his own. that, at least, is similar to book 1 laurent—but while he was a cat playing with a mouse in book 1, in a position to do serious damage to his opponent, now he’s more like…. a cat, slapping another cat. evenly matched, but still throwing hands. transparently insecure and pathetic, only effective in doing emotional damage in ways he doesn’t intend. damen isn’t hurt by the petty things laurent says and does, because he sees through them for what they are. he’s hurt because laurent sees them as necessary to protect himself and keep his distance, when all damen wants is to make things okay between them. which laurent would never expect, because he assumes that damen wants nothing to do with him, and would be happier and better off if they stayed apart.

basically: unstoppable force (damen's persistent caring) meets unmovable object (laurent's refusal to be genuinely cared for). the only way for this cycle to end is for damen to choose to stop, or for laurent to choose to yield. laurent will eventually make that choice, but he still has to be a huge bitch about it first. he's going to lash out at damen and challenge him to stop caring, but ultimately fail—both because damen is just built different, and because he's lowkey written as a fantasy partner for emotionally volatile people with attachment and abandonment issues.

rest assured, laurent’s genre is still psychological thriller, but it’s also now a high school drama movie. and damen is about to get a bitter taste of that, with pretty much no choice in the matter. this poor man will have to deal with laurent’s bitchy theatrics as they try to co-parent an army, and he’s already too emotionally invested and aware of laurent’s habit of lashing out when he’s in pain to genuinely fight back.

this could also be called laurent’s s1 catra era, but i’m not sure what the venn diagram of capri and she ra enjoyers looks like. to those who get it—laurent is doing what catra did at princess prom for the next several chapters, down to the “hey adora” = “hello lover.” this dynamic is very fun to read because it doesn’t overstay its welcome. it’s different from laurent in book 1, or catra in general, because it’s so clearly pathetic, damen and laurent are on the same side of the war, and damen could technically make it stop at any point. so i think it’s very very fun, while it lasts >:)

The herald reined in in front of him. Damen looked at the mare’s shiny coat, not dirt-covered, not heaving or darkened with sweat, and then at the herald’s livery, in immaculate condition, unflecked by the dust of the road. He felt it rising at the back of his throat. ‘Where is he?’

damen showed up to the prom laurent planned with him to unite their rival high schools, only to find himself dateless and laurent’s promised fancy party decorations missing. this is the moment where damen checks snapchat (i was in high school from 2013-2017) and sees everyone from vere high at their own immaculately-decorated prom, where laurent is being crowned king. little does damen know, laurent was blindsided by the vere-only prom and forced via social pressure to be there since everyone elected him prom king. they’re mad at each other for a high school drama pacing-typical period of time, and then make up when they realize the misunderstanding and reassert their dedication to each other.

laurent did still murder someone with a chair, though. but like a metal folding chair from the band room

The herald’s back hit the ground. Damen had dragged him bodily from his horse into the dirt, where he lay dazed and winded, with Damen’s knee in his stomach. Damen’s hand was around his neck.

His grip tightened before it opened enough to allow the herald to speak. The herald rolled onto his side and coughed as Damen released him. He pulled something from inside his jacket. Parchment, with two lines on it. You have Charcy. I have Fortaine. He stared at the words, written in familiar, unmistakable handwriting. I’ll receive you at my fort.

lamen hr complaint #5 (unnamed herald): ragdolling this guy over what should be impersonal, professional correspondence

also, because i can't help myself:

Fortaine eclipsed even Ravenel, powerful and beautiful, its towers high-flung, its jutting crenelles biting the sky. It rose to a sheer, impossible height and, from every vantage, it was flying Laurent’s banners. The pennants seemed to float on the air effortlessly, patterned silk in blue and gold.

WELCOME HOME, BROTHER KILLER

Rows upon rows of peaked, coloured tents were pitched on the field outside Fortaine’s walls, the sun lighting the pavilions, the banners, and the silks of a graceful encampment. It was a city of tents, and it camped a fresh, intact force of Laurent’s men, who had not fought and died through the morning. The constructed arrogance of the display was intentional. It said, exquisitely: Did you exert yourself at Charcy? I have been here examining my nails.

this is funny and i wouldn’t put it past laurent, but also i’m not sure if he like. really meant this part of it specifically to piss damen off. he was just tortured idk he probably just wanted things nice. a good part of the fun of lamen divorce era is remembering that damen’s interpretation of events isn’t necessarily accurate, and that it’s hilarious how he interprets things as petty personal slights even when they might not be. they’re both so obsessed with each other and it’s great

Nikandros reined in alongside him. ‘Uncle and nephew are alike. They send other men to do their fighting for them.’

nik tweets this verbatim on priv (#3)

Damen was silent. What he felt in his chest was a hardness like anger. He looked at the elegant silken city and thought about men dying on the field at Charcy.

but not exactly anger—betrayal? heartache? self-consciousness?

Some kind of herald’s greeting party was riding towards them. He gripped the Regent’s bloody, torn banner in his hand.

the phrase “greeting party” just made me imagine them rolling up with like confetti and a speaker blasting the celebration song. while damen holds the bloody torn banner

‘Just me,’ said Damen, and put his heels into his horse. About halfway across the field, he was met by the herald, who arrived with an anxious party of four attendants saying something urgent about protocol. Damen listened to four words of it. ‘Don’t worry,’ said Damen. ‘He’s expecting me.’

lamen hr complaint #6 (more unnamed heralds): disregarding protocol

(also “he’s expecting me” girlllll)

Without even pulling off his gauntlets, he strode to the tent. He knew its high scalloped folds; he knew the starburst pennant. No one stopped him. Not even when he reached the tent and dismissed the soldier at the entrance with a single order: ‘Go.’ He didn’t bother to see if his order was obeyed. The soldier let him through: of course he did; this had all been planned. Laurent was ready for him whether he came docilely behind the herald or, as he did now, the dirt and the sweat of the battle still on him, blood dried in the places where a cursory swipe with a cloth had not reached it. He swept the tent flap back with an arm, and stepped inside.

again i do have to question, beyond the drama, how much of this is as intentional and petty as damen thinks it is. like, the heralds literally cite protocol, damen knows this is the correct way for a camp to be run. i think he is assuming a lot here, although it’s reasonable to do so. we have seen in the past that damen assumes things of laurent that laurent is just like, “uh. not everything i do is on purpose” about, or damen is just WRONG about. i just wonder if damen’s approach here confirms things laurent was worried about (damen thinking poorly of him now that they’re on even ground), further fueling the fire of his rejection-sensitive bitchiness. not that it’s an excuse, or even undeserved, but it’s good to remember that there are two sides to the story.

like to damen, this is an angry post-battle rush of a moment to confront laurent and speak his truth (he doesn’t know laurent knows who he is), but to laurent this is like. post-torture and escape, and basically being thrown into the deep end of vulnerability with damianos and what this all implies to auguste’s memory. we’re not getting the best or most rational version of either of them right now, which is great for the drama but also makes the narration less reliable

This was the place Laurent had chosen.

right. damen thinks laurent chose this place to hear the truth about him, because the “you have charcy” note implies that at some point laurent probably figured out that damen is damianos. therefore laurent chose this occasion for them to meet each other, as they truly are by birth, for the first time. damen just doesn’t know the twist that laurent has always known who he’s been, and has chosen everything else before now with that knowledge too

There were a few furnishings, low seats, cushions, and in the background a trestle table hung with its own coverings, and set with shallow bowls of sugared pears and oranges. As though they were going to nibble at sweetmeats.

the same guy who ordered the “sorry you were given a severed head and discovered a suicide” fruit basket in prince’s gambit had to order a “sorry i gaslighted you for 2 books but not really because you also technically gaslighted me” fruit basket in kings rising

He lifted his gaze from the table to the exquisitely attired figure leaned with a single shoulder against the tent pole, watching him.

lucky number laurent lean #13!

Laurent said, ‘Hello, lover.’

It was not going to be simple.

this being the follow-up line to “hello lover” is such a good combination of funny and tension-building. like laurent’s cunty tableau immediately put out damen’s fiery righteous indignation and now he’s just like “oh this is going to suck.”

He made himself breathe through that. ‘Your men think you’re a coward. Nikandros thinks that you deceived us. That you sent us to Charcy, and left us there to die by your uncle’s sword.’ ‘And is that what you think?’ said Laurent. ‘No.’ Damen said, ‘Nikandros doesn’t know you.’

this is really a testament to pacat’s cleverness, how in chapter 1 there are a lot of moments where it’s almost like damen is directly saying he thinks laurent screwed him over—nikandros and the herald saying it and him not disagreeing, him accepting the reality that laurent is not going to show up—but he never does truly say that he thinks the abandonment was on purpose. because he didn’t, and he doesn’t, which makes sense. but he’s still angry and confused and also just concerned about how laurent is taking the “news” that he’s damianos. how much of damen’s anger about laurent’s composed appearance is projection of his anxiety about laurent seeing him as he truly is, a powerful authority figure in his own right who just won a battle against insane odds?

it’s so ambiguously written that it’s almost like pacat WANTS us to spiral. which i did, and will probably continue to do, so well-played. these books are like evil catnip to anxious overthinking theater people with attachment issues and an interest in understanding complex fictional situations to cope with the fact that real life never makes enough sense. also kinky gays but let's be real that's just a trojan horse for the other stuff

‘And you do.’ Damen looked at the arrangement of Laurent’s weight, the careful way he was holding his body. Laurent’s left hand was still casually resting against the tent pole. Deliberately, he stepped forward, and clasped Laurent’s right shoulder. Nothing, for a moment. Damen tightened his grip, and ground in with his thumb. Harder. He watched Laurent turn ashen. Finally, Laurent said, ‘Stop.’

proving that he knows laurent well enough to pick up from his posture alone exactly where he’s been injured. also they’re both so messy, like let’s put pressure on each other’s literal and figurative wounds instead of just talking about our misconceptions and feelings, awesome

He let go. Laurent had wrenched back and was clutching his shoulder, where the blue of his doublet had darkened. Blood, welling up from some newly bandaged, subterranean place, and Laurent was staring at him, his eyes oddly wide. ‘You wouldn’t break an oath,’ said Damen, past the feeling in his chest. ‘Even to me.’

damen proving to himself, and proving to laurent, that he knows that laurent didn’t screw him over, and instead was injured and failed to show up. laurent is shocked by how quickly damen picked up on this. also ow

He had to force himself back.

he doesn’t want to see laurent in pain, or know that he’s causing it :( which is especially unfortunate given the conversation they’re about to have about damen murdering laurent’s brother

Laurent didn’t answer. He still had a hand clutched to his shoulder, his fingers sticky with blood. Laurent said, ‘Even to you?’

“you wouldn’t break an oath, even to me” (“even to me” being a sort of freudian slip, meaning “i killed your brother, and i’ve known that this whole time and i haven’t told you, and you have a good reason to hate me for that”) “even to you?” (to damen’s incomplete understanding: “well i know who you are now, and if i’d known before i would have broken every oath to you i’ve ever made”)

He made himself look at Laurent. The truth was an awful presence in his chest.

babygirl it’s about to get so much awfuller

He thought of the single night they had spent together. He thought of Laurent, giving himself, dark-eyed and vulnerable, and of the Regent, who knew how to break a man.

damen totally sees laurent as his “victim” right now, set up well by him re-opening laurent’s physical wound. damen fucked this man while knowing that he (damen) killed his (laurent’s) brother, and put trust in him. if they were normal, or this was a normal story, that’s where the confrontation would end. it would be that simple—damen didn’t mean to hurt laurent but still did, and laurent has to forgive him for that, and forgive himself for being fooled—and then it would get tearfully resolved because they love each other so much that it doesn't matter. but they are not normal, and this is not a normal story, so…

Outside, two armies were poised to fight. The moment was here, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He remembered the Regent’s constant suggestion: Bed my nephew. He had done that, wooed him, won him. Charcy, he saw, hadn’t mattered to the Regent. It hadn’t meant anything. The Regent’s real weapon against Laurent had always been Damen himself.

damen thinks the regent’s plan had been to weaken laurent by putting him in circumstances where he’d unknowingly make himself vulnerable with his brother’s killer, triggering him emotionally and destroying his judgment. i'm pretty sure that this was basically his intention, but had also made sure that it would also torture laurent even if he did recognize damen on the spot.

personally i think the regent knew that laurent knew in book 1 through observing his reaction, but had planned for both possibilities in advance. what he hadn't expected, though, was for laurent and damen to start genuinely working together instead of against each other. this happens early as the thing with patras, and really pops off during the botched assassination attempt.

charcy was meant to drive a wedge between them, to correct the regent's previous miscalculation. and given the inevitable truth damen must now reveal, there's nothing he can really do to stop laurent from being upset.

‘I’ve come to tell you who I am.’ Laurent was so keenly familiar, the shade of his hair, the strapped down clothing, the full lips that he held tense or cruelly repressed, the ruthless asceticism, the unbearable blue eyes. ‘I know who you are, Damianos,’ said Laurent. Damen heard it, as the interior of the tent seemed to change, so that all of the objects in it took on a different shape. ‘Did you think,’ said Laurent, ‘I wouldn’t recognise the man who killed my brother?’

the way i YELLED during my first read. i remember even like posting something before, like “oh my god damen just tell him put this poor man out of his misery,” and then after i got to this part i immediately went and deleted that post

Each word was an ice chip. Painful, sharp; a shard. Laurent’s voice was perfectly steady.

do you think he practiced this?

‘I knew in the palace, when they dragged you in front of me,’ said Laurent. The words continued, steady, relentless. ‘I knew in the baths when I ordered you flayed. I knew—’

he definitely practiced this

‘At Ravenel?’ said Damen.

“you knew when you kissed me and let me fuck you????”

‘If you knew,’ said Damen, ‘how could you—’ ‘Let you fuck me?’ His own chest hurt, so that he almost didn’t notice the signs of it in Laurent, the control, the face, pale at any time, now white.

he almost didn’t notice the signs, which means he still totally did. because even now, damen is attentive and caring towards laurent

‘I needed a victory at Charcy. You provided it. It was worth enduring,’ Laurent spoke the terrible, lucid words, ‘your fumbling attentions for that.’

LIARRRRRRR

It hurt so much it took the breath from his throat. ‘You’re lying.’ Damen’s heart was pounding. ‘You’re lying.’ The words were too loud. ‘You thought I was leaving. You practically threw me out.’ He said it, as the realisation blossomed inside him. ‘You knew who I was. You knew who I was the night we made love.’

tbh i think this kind of realization would make me have a panic attack on the spot. also do you think this is the kind of betrayal he’s been trying so hard to avoiding confronting, coming from kastor and jokaste? but here he has no choice to confront it, because laurent is forcing him to understand the depths of the deception. no avoiding it now

He thought of Laurent surrendering, not the first time, but the second, the slower, sweeter time, the tension in him, the way he had— ‘You weren’t making love to a slave, you were making love to me.’

very true, but laurent isn’t ready to deal with it. he can’t keep up the cognitive dissonance in the present, but that doesn’t mean he’s about to accept that it was real in the past. instead he’ll just lash out.

And he couldn’t think that through clearly but he could catch a glimmer of it, a glimmer of the edge of it. ‘I thought you wouldn’t, I thought you’d never—’

OF COURSE damen suspected, at some points, that laurent knew. but this tells us that he’d ultimately dismissed the notion because it would have been insane for laurent to kiss and fuck him, while knowing his real identity. “i thought you wouldn’t, i thought you’d never—“

this is similar to how i thought about it during my first read—i suspected for all of book 1, and some of book 2, but then figured that the story was taking a different direction because how the hell could the plot points of “laurent knows who damen is” and “laurent makes himself vulnerable to damen and does a romance/sex about it” possibly be compatible? laurent, a deeply traumatized and self-protective person, wouldn’t and would never. except i underestimated laurent’s capacity for self-delusion, and overestimated the amount of control he truly has over his emotions and impulses, beneath all the posturing. damen, here, is recognizing that he’s made similar miscalculations, and now he’s seeing laurent as he truly is. they’re both seeing each other, truly, for the first time.

‘Laurent, six years ago, when I fought Auguste, I—’ ‘Don’t you say his name.’ The words were forced out of Laurent. ‘Don’t you ever say his name, you killed my brother.’

i like the simplicity of this. just the plainness of “you killed my brother.” laurent’s language is so often clever and cagey and embellished, but that last sentiment is raw and informal, and what we the reader are probably screaming in our heads. because yeah, holy shit, damen killed laurent’s brother. it’s a pretty hard thing to argue against, or ignore. “you lied to me” “you killed my brother” “you flogged me” “you killed my brother” “you forgot to do the dishes” “you killed my brother”

Laurent was breathing shallowly, almost panting as he spoke, his hands rigid on the edge of the table behind him.

his practiced words are saying one thing, but his body is very obviously having a panic attack. this scene isn’t nearly as much of a laurent mean girl moment as it seemed during a rushed first read. that’s actually kind of a relief to me, bc it made me sad to interpret him as so heartless and unfazed the first time around. even if “hello lover” is an iconic moment, it’s a performance more than anything else. and pacat shows us this sooner than i recalled or first perceived. she’s not torturing us, the reader, as much as she’s torturing both damen and laurent. and it’s not even like a lazy misunderstanding kind of torture, this is genuinely complicated and they’re both in the wrong and they both are justified in this pain and hurt. i just couldn’t see that as well the first time, having binged like all of book 2 already and having no idea what would happen next and honestly just being shocked and betrayed and compelled by the massive mislead with laurent’s awareness of the situation

‘Is that what you want to hear, that I knew who you were and I still let you fuck me, my brother’s killer, who cut him down like an animal on the field?’

you know he doesn’t, laurent, that’s just what you’re telling yourself now that you’re forced to confront it. you started this scene with “hello lover” and your prepared speech, hoping to destroy damen emotionally, but once again you’ve just kinda played yourself. maybe just cool it with the emotional gambits for now, when it comes to damen, bc they only really seem to come back and hurt you (oh fuck he can’t hear me)

‘Shall I ask you how you did it? What he looked like when your sword went in?’ ‘No,’ said Damen.

laurent, shaking, pale, looks like he’s about to pass out: “you bastard, tell me about how you murdered my brother as i think about the fact that i let you fuck me in a similar way, go ahead just make it hurt more”

damen, not a therapist but still emotionally intelligent enough to know this isn’t really about punishing him: no, i don’t think i will. can you like sit down

‘Or shall I tell you about the illusion of the man who gave me good counsel. Who stood by me. Who never lied to me.’ ‘I never lied to you.’

that italicized “i” is interesting. is it an accusation of laurent’s own lying and hypocrisy, or a specification that damen never directly told laurent he wasn’t damianos? given damen’s well-established integrity, i’m guessing it’s the first option. again with the mutual moral arbitration. and damen wouldn’t want to take such a weak a cop-out as “well i never technically said it,” it’s just not typical of his character.

The words were awful in the silence that followed them. ‘“Laurent, I am your slave”?’ said Laurent. He felt the breath forced out from his lungs.

of course laurent takes it as the second option, though, and implies that by swearing himself to laurent and then bedding him damen was directly lying about his identity. because to laurent, damen =/= damianos. a slave can’t be a prince. so damianos, the prince, must have been intentionally lying about being damen, the slave. and that’s actually easier, and less painful, and less complicated to accept than any kind of nuanced alternative.

‘Don’t,’ he said, ‘talk about it like—’ ‘Like?’ ‘Like it was cold-blooded; like I controlled it. Like we didn’t both close our eyes and pretend I was a slave.’ He made himself say the exposing words. ‘I was your slave.’

he’s right. nothing much to add here. damen wasn't just literally laurent's slave, he had devoted himself emotionally as well, and he's admitting it here despite the fact that it makes him vulnerable—something laurent is too much of a (traumatized, understandable) coward to do himself. i love damen's characterization so much

‘There was no slave,’ said Laurent. ‘He never existed. I don’t know what manner of man stands before me now. All I know is that I am facing him for the first time.’ ‘He is here.’ His flesh ached as if he had been prised open. ‘We are the same.’

this gives us some insight to laurent’s actions in book 1—not necessarily excusing them, but making them fit better into what we’ve since learned about his moral code. it ties things together, which isn’t the same as making them simpler or easier to like. pacat is very very VERY good at establishing continuous moral ambiguity in her characters, and does not rush the slow burn of making ends meet. so when she does eventually begin to connect things, it’s satisfying, because it hasn’t been all been spelled out the whole time so readers don’t have to think for themselves. this, in reference to a lot of the series’s more problematic themes, is exactly why i think people end up seeing capri as apologism or glamorization. but by claiming that, i also think they’re exposing themselves as impatient, shallow, and (sorry) simply lazy.

but i don't just want to be reductive and uncharitable, because that would be shallow and lazy too. to be perfectly clear, i honestly can't blame people for disliking this series, and not being willing or able to have patience and understanding for its more problematic elements. this series is marketed as romance/erotica. it started as indulgent kink fic. it ended up evolving into its current state during its development—and i'm really glad it did, but that doesn't change the fact that so much of its marketing and premise imply certain things that it doesn't quite deliver. and if you look up the series today, as it's still being published years after its completion, it's still marketed in a way i find somewhat misleading. to the extent that when i picked it up, it was in an intentional attempt to expand my own horizons—i wanted to challenge myself with indulgent shameless problematic porn/romance, as opposed to the weak-ass "enemies" to lovers running rival bakeries gay romance novels with canva covers that haven't worked for me in the past. the logic was basically, "well, if i don't like romance on that side of the scale, maybe i'll like the opposite extreme, or at least learn more about what i don't like." and i did feel pretty challenged during book 1, to the point that for a while i only kept reading out of morbid curiosity and vague horniness rather than any genuine expectation of depth or satisfying storytelling. it was only around the assassination scene in book 1 that i started to see the book as something capable of more depth and intrigue than just like kinky debauchery, and it pretty much just snowballed from there. and as someone who frequently reads about these dark topics in other genres and contexts, i was familiar enough with the things happening on the page to at least stomach them and push foward.

however, if i was coming at the series from a different place—like if i loved cozy romance and had very little familiarity with reading about these topics—i can see the first book especially being very blindsiding and distressing, and not wanting to engage with it further. that's not laziness, it just means that the book wasn't for me.

and the nuance doesn't end there. one of the things i love most about this series is that, even if i was just looking for shameless slavekink porn and decidedly did not want to rise to the occasion of depth or thematic exploration, i would also walk away unsatisfied. because the truly problematic shit in these books is not shameless at all, and indulgence never comes without a cost. there are a few distasteful moments that make me roll my eyes, and the garden scene definitely prompts a Conversation—but as a whole, i think pacat is very aware of the moral implications of these themes. and i also think she's perfectly aware of the fact that many people get off on them.

this series almost feels like an accidental study of, like, the psychological implications of being a person compelled by dub-con and problematic kink, finding a sort of gratification in situations where those things ar kind of inevitable (like they are for damen in book 1). AND this is made even more complicated and brave by the fact that laurent is, very relevantly, a victim of serious sexual assault. like, as hot as some of the scenes in this book are, i really don't think it makes itself easy for people to just uncritically get themselves off to. it doesn't encourage shame, but it does encourage introspection. and a lot of people simply don't read erotica and romance to introspect. (couldn't be me though. if it isn't clear, i love the laurent of vere "having insane mindfucking sex fully clothed across the room" approach to eroticism).

i feel like it's actually kind of funny that i specifically got here, as a person who almost always reads books that force dark introspection, and assumed that this erotica/romance book would be mindless, but ended up with gestures vaguely instead. for me, coming across this series and realizing what it truly is was an incredibly happy accident. but for others, i completely understand how it could be the exact opposite, and it's not lazy or shallow to realize that you misunderstood what you were getting yourself into and step away.

what is lazy and shallow, though, is to either DNF and review based on those misconceptions, or keep reading simply to fuel your own disdain and discomfort. ultimately, i think that the true error of people who walk into capri wanting shameless porn or untroubling romance is the fact that they keep reading, even when it becomes clear that the book isn't doing that. and then they decide to evaluate the book based on expectations and standards that aren't the ones the author or fans have for the work itself. people seem to take out their anger towards the SUBJECTS of slavery or rape in fiction themselves on capri, rather then the way capri specifically portrays them. either because they fucking stopped reading the book and just wanted to go on a tangent on the topics in general, or hate-read to confirm their own pre-existing bias.

my point is, nobody has to read things that trigger or upset them, and it's okay to just pass on fictional stuff that makes you feel bad or frustrated. aspects of this series made me feel bad and frustrated, even on re-read, but i enjoy the intellectual and emotional exercise of exploring those feelings and better understanding the true meaning and purpose of the art. but there are certain topics in other works of fiction that i'm unwilling to explore, which would cause me to simply stop reading, and if asked for a review i'd just say that i'm not the right person to say. and there have been many times where i've continued reading a book, hoping it would change directions, and ended up just being like, "yeah, that wasn't for me," and moving on.

the exchange "there was no slave, he never existed" "here is here, we are the same" is almost a meta-commentary on the reception of the series as a whole. it would be dishonest to deny how this series started, and some of the themes and subjects it intentionally confronts. you can't say "there was no slave [kink], [it] never existed" because the narrative proceeded to be more of a commentary on kink rather than an uncritical display of it. kink, and dark topics in fiction in general, do all have depth, and while they might not be for everyone, they are for someone. exploring that depth is entirely optional, and i understand why people with certain experiences don't want anything to do with that exploration. but our personal tastes don't change the fact that subjects like slavery and rape exist, and that reality is inseparable from the stories that come from it. ultimately, the choice is whether we're willing to take that specific reality thoughtfully on, or else just walk away.

the people i have the hardest time with are the ones who choose neither of those options. like, what do you even get out of continuing to read something that you're unwilling to explore in good faith, or that you straight-up hate? just read something else. we only have so much time in the day. stop wasting yours, and stop wasting the time of people who actually enjoy the thing with your useless bad-faith criticism. sorry this tangent has totally departed from the chapter itself, but that really is what pisses me off so much about current-day online book culture. like, i'm thinking about all of those smug-looking booktubers making 2 hour videos called "i read [name of book that doesn't appeal to the lowest common denominator of people] so you don't have to." i know how long it takes to read books thoughtfully, and then to write, film, and edit videos. maybe stop wasting your own time and dig into something you love instead, or even try to make your own thing, and just hope that some smug asshole on the internet doesn't decide to do to your work what you've done to other people's work. but no, lazy cynicism and appealing to the easy gimmick of cringe is way more profitable, i guess. and it makes you less vulnerable to people criticizing work that came from your soul, because the work you're creating is completely soulless.

anyway. i wonder what kind of totally normal things damen and laurent are up to in the chapter i'm annotating

‘Kneel then,’ said Laurent. ‘Kiss my boot.’

"if you really are still a slave, even though we both know you’re a king, then do a demeaning slave thing right now"

He looked into Laurent’s excoriating blue eyes. The impossibility of it was like a sharp pain. He couldn’t do it. He could only gaze at Laurent across the distance between them. The words hurt. ‘You’re right. I’m not a slave,’ he said.

can’t indulge in the kink anymore by circumstantial necessity, but i’m sure they’ll find something even weirder to do instead on purpose

‘I am the King.’ He said, ‘I killed your brother. And now I hold your fort.’ As he spoke, Damen drew out a knife. He felt rather than saw all of Laurent’s attention swing to it. The physical signs were small: Laurent’s lips parted, his body tensed. Laurent didn’t look at the knife. He kept his eyes on Damen, who looked right back at him. ‘So you will parley with me as with a king, and you will tell me why you called me here.’ Deliberately, Damen tossed the knife onto the floor of the tent.

okay this is just extra of him, but i mean laurent got to do “hello lover” so damen deserves to be dramatic too as a treat. i also like what this symbolizes, as opposed to their previous knife moments. as defined by their stations, they don’t have a power imbalance anymore, and they don’t have a reason to be enemies. they are a prince and a king, not a master and a slave. they are military allies, teaming up against the regent. any power imbalance and beef they have now is emotional, complicated, and abstract, nothing clear-cut (haha) enough to be represented by an instrument of simple violence like a knife. and damen summarizes this perfectly, in the context of their previous knife moments, by viscerally reminding laurent of those encounters and then just tossing the thing across the room.

honestly, i bet laurent feels jealous of the clever performative gesture. and maybe a little turned on, too, despite the horrors. that’s a fun reversal.

‘Didn’t you know?’ said Laurent. ‘My uncle is in Akielos.’

yeah, he got a really good all-inclusive deal at the akielion sandals resort and needed a vacation after all of the murder and [redacted]

[honey-andtea1889]

The Cold Autumn Evenings (H.S.) Part Two

AN: Hello again lovies! So this part is kind of a filler but it’s not awful! I had to go and reread some bits to fix them up a bit but I think it’s decent! I’m sorry it took so long for this to go up as well. I was down in Arizona for a week and let me tell you I miss it a lot. Anywho, enjoy part two! Requests are open! 

Summary: Y/N got caught up in reading Harry’s story, unfortunately this is the reason for her being late

Warnings: none

Song: A Slow Death In Pacific Standard Time by HUNNY

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The next morning seemed like a blur. Y/N woke up super early and continued where she left off in Harry’s story. In the chapter she was on, the man was about to profess his love for the girl, but she had been seen with someone else, leaving the man heartbroken and confused. Y/N could feel the tears slowly falling down her face as she continued the sad chapter. Her phone began ringing as she set the packet down to get breakfast. 

“Hello?” Y/N answered, sniffling and wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater.

“Y/N! How’s my favorite- are you okay?” Harry questioned over the phone.

“Oh I’m fine! I was just reading something that got me a bit emotional is all. Is everything okay?” Y/N asked. 

“Yes, everything is fine. I usually hear from you by now about meetings or issues with clients but my phone was silent the entire morning and I just got worried. Are you at the office yet?” Harry said as he walked out of the fancy building in the middle of London. 

Y/N checked the time and nearly tripped on her way from the coffee machine. 

She was almost 45 minutes late. 

“Oh my god, I didn’t realize what time it was! I’m so sorry Mr. Styles, I’m leaving for the office right now!” Y/N squealed as she bolted to her bedroom to get dressed. 

“Y/N! Y/N, relax! It’s fine. I’m actually on my way to the office right now, I can pick you up if you’d like?” Harry suggested. 

“Are you sure?” Y/N asked. 

“Definitely! Send me the address and I’ll be there in 20.” He said as he hung up the phone. 

Y/N smiled as she texted him her address and entered her bathroom to brush her teeth. When her teeth were all brushed, Y/N did her hair and makeup. She wasn’t sure why, but she was nervous for Harry to see her flat. He was her boss and probably lived a lot better than she did, it made her a bit self conscious about it. 

The flat wasn’t awful. It was small, definitely built for one person or a couple who had just moved in together. The walls were a deep forest green with a brick accent wall that held a fireplace, a lighter shade of pine wood covering the floor. It had an open concept that led from the living room into the kitchen/dining area. Off of the living room to the left, there was a hallway that held the bathroom on the left side and Y/N’s room on the right. 

Her furniture was all given to her from her mother. A simple beige couch that was comfier than most couches sweetly decorated with green throw pillows and a dark brown recliner chair surrounded a small coffee table in the middle of the living room facing the fireplace. She had a small white blanket folded on the lower shelf of the table just in case it ever became too cold. She had shelves that were covered with books on both sides of the fireplace and pictures of family members and adorable plaques which gave an aesthetically pleasing look to her small flat. 

It was her cute little home that she loved dearly, but Harry doesn’t really come around so you could understand the nerves that ran through her as she scampered to get ready. As she fixed up her throw pillows and straightened up some books on her shelves, a loud knock echoed through her flat. Sam barked and ran over to the big mahogany door. 

“Sam, sh! Go into your bed please!” Y/N begged. 

The little frenchie snorted and ran over to his dog bed set along one of the walls. Y/N opened the door to see Harry dressed in black slacks, a white button up shirt, and a peacoat that ended right above his hips. His hair was slightly tousled due to the cold Autumn wind but he didn’t look anything less than perfect. Y/N swallowed hard at how ravishing this man looked. She had to make sure she wasn’t drooling in front of him. 

“Hello, Y/N! Are you ready?” Harry asked, cocking his head slightly to the side. 

Y/N shook herself out of her trance and blushed, hoping he didn’t notice her staring. 

“Almost, I just need to grab a few things. Please come in! Make yourself at home whilst I finish up.” Y/N smiled as she stepped to the side. 

Harry entered into her home and took in his surroundings as Y/N went back into her room to grab her bag and her phone. He thought her flat was adorable and it suited her perfectly. As he admired her cozy little home, Harry soon felt small paws scratching at his legs. He looked down to see Sam shaking his little stubby tail with excitement. 

“Okay, I think I’m all- oh my god I’m so sorry! Sam, don’t jump!” Y/N rushed over to pick up her sweet pup. 

“It’s alright, love! I didn’t know you had a dog. You said his name was Sam?” Harry questioned. 

“Yeah. He doesn’t usually jump on people like that. Guess you’re an exception!” Y/N giggled. 

Harry chuckled and rubbed behind Sam’s ear. The happy, little pooch licked his fingers and snorted with joy. Harry and Y/N laughed as she set Sam down. Harry looked at the small coffee table and saw his novel laying with the cover in clear sight. Smirking, he looked over at Y/N. 

“Is that why you’re late? Too busy reading  m’novel, eh?” Harry smirked.

Y/N could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. 

“Y-yes. I-I just couldn’t put it down. It’s really good, actually. I’m not done with it yet but I’m getting close.” Y/N mumbled as she grabbed the packet. 

Harry chuckled and opened the door. Y/N kept her eyes on the ground as she exited her flat and made her way to the elevator. 

Harry thought it was cute whenever she was embarrassed about stuff. He specifically recalled the day he first started calling her “Love”. She turned three shades of pink and toyed with the strings on her blouse that hung around her breasts. He wasn’t sure as to why he enjoyed making her blush, maybe it was just the thought of being able to make her flustered is what made his ego skyrocket. Harry has always thought Y/N was attractive. She was his type for sure, with her Y/H/C hair and Y/E/C eyes, not to mention the curves she had, Harry was absolutely smitten to have a girl like her work for him. 

As Harry entered the elevator, Y/N was digging in her purse. 

“Leave something in you flat, love?” Harry asked. 

“I can’t seem to find my glasses. I don’t understand, I had them this morning.” Y/N sighed, still digging into the small brown bag. 

Harry had seen a slight glare on the top of Y/N’s head. He slowly reached and pulled the glasses she was looking for. Y/N shot her head up as soon as she felt his hands in her hair.

“Don’t move.” Harry said. 

Y/N’s knees nearly buckled as she kept still until the glasses were off of her head. 

“Are these the ones you seek?” Harry chuckled. 

The eye contact between the two was intense. They were looking at each other as though the other person was the only thing in the world. It was almost like a movie scene when the love interests had realized their feelings for one another. Harry and Y/N could feel the tension between them as she grabbed the spectacles from his large hands. As Y/N took ahold of part of the frames, her fingers brushed against Harry’s. It felt like sparks when the skin of their fingers grazed one another. The sudden jolt took both of them by surprise.

Y/N blushed again and thanked him. Harry smirked and slipped his hands in his pockets. The two travelled down the building in silence until Harry spoke up as they entered the lobby. 

“You really think m’novel is good?” He smiled, holding the door opened for her. 

“Mr. Styles please excuse the next statement but are you serious? It’s amazing so far! I mean there were a few spelling mistakes and you accidentally used the wrong ‘there’ for ownership once but other than that, it’s stunning so far!” Y/N gushed. 

It was Harry’s turn to blush now. He had been working on that stupid thing for months now. He couldn’t count how many days he suffered writer’s block for the novel, so to hear Y/N praise it as much as she was just filled his heart like no other. 

“Thank you, love. It really means a lot to me that you’re reading over it. It’s been a challenge writing it.” Harry said as they made their way to his car. 

Harry was driving  a newly redone 1970 black Ford Capri. Y/N’s jaw dropped as she slowly walked to the passenger side. Harry chuckled, opening the door for her again. She carefully slipped into the vehicle and looked around the interior. The seats were made of leather and the steering wheel was black with silver lining around the logo. Y/N felt like if she were to move something would happen to the car, she couldn’t start to think how much Harry paid for this. 

“Do you want to stop and grab some coffee before we head in? There’s a shop close to the office.” Harry asked. 

“Won’t we be late?” Y/N asked, looking at Harry as he buckled up. 

“Love, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we’re already an hour and fifteen minutes late.” Harry chuckled, starting the car. 

Y/N giggled as she fixed her hair. Harry smiled and drove to the small coffee shop close to the office. The two bought small coffees (her’s with extra sugar and pumpkin spice creamer, his just black) and made the last few miles to the office.

The pair had entered the office and parted ways when they reached Y/N’s desk. Claire had bolted over to Y/N once Harry had closed the door. 

“So..a meeting, huh?” Claire smirked as she sat on her friend’s desk. 

“Oh please Claire. He was at the meeting, I was simply running late this morning. I was reading something and just lost track of time I guess.” Y/N sighed, trying to get her things organized. 

Claire chuckled and leaned back slightly, trying to get a glance of Y/N’s neck. 

“What’re you doing?” Y/N asked.

“Just checking for hickeys.” Claire said, still trying to peak. 

Y/N laughed and nudged her friend softly. 

“I’m serious, nothing happened! I mean..there was the elevator when he picked me up from my flat.” She sighed. 

Claire’s eyes almost bulged out of  her head. She nearly jumped over the desk asking for details. 

“Okay! Okay! I couldn’t find my glasses this morning when we left my flat, but of course they were on my head. Mr. Styles had seen them and grabbed them for me, however when I took them from him, I had accidentally touched his hand and Claire, I’m telling you I felt sparks. I’m sure he felt them too! It just seemed like something out of a romance novel or something.” 

Like Harry’s Novel Y/N thought. The slight pink color in her cheeks obviously gave away how she felt for Harry. Claire smiled as she watched Y/N beam. She’s not seen her this happy about someone in a while and that absolutely filled Claire’s heart. The last guy Y/N had dated was a total tool. He was gross and never treated her the way she deserved to be treated. Claire knew Harry respected women more than anything. That’s what made him the most attractive! She wouldn’t have to worry about beating his ass. 

“Maybe see if he wants to hang out after work! I don’t see why he wouldn’t say yes to you.” Claire said as she made her way to her desk. 

Y/N chuckled as she grabbed the packet she had gotten lost in this morning. She turned to the page in which she had left off and began reading again, annotating little notes for ideas and questions she had. She had glanced over to the door that led into Harry’s office and smiled. 

Maybe she should see if he would like to hang out later. 

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

The Witch and The Wolf Pt.31

Word Count: 2,809

Characters: Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey, Vernon Boyd (brief), Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Lydia Martin, Allison Argent, Ethan Steiner (brief), Reader

Pairings: Derek Hale x Witch!Reader

Warnings: angst, TW: Suicide, small fluff (sam warnings as episode Motel California)

A/N: ---

Masterlist         Series Masterlist

Glen Capri

You read the name of the motel, facing the window as the bus stopped.

The lacrosse meet was pushed till tomorrow, leaving Beacon Hills to stay at a dingy-looking motel. Something was off about it.

“Hey,” you looked up as Scott sat next to you.

“Hey, how do you feel?” you asked softly.

“I’m fine. Thanks to you,” you nodded your head, continuing to face the window.

“I just wanted you to know, what happened wasn't your fault,” he said.

“Scott, let’s go inside,” you shook your head, standing up.

He paused, looking at you before he nodded, walking out of the seat, you following him.

Everyone was pairing with someone else. Thankfully, you weren’t a student, leaving you to have a room by yourself. Allison and Lydia were staying with each other, Scott and Stiles, Boyd, and Isaac. There was no point in causing a fuss.

You shivered slightly, rubbing your arms as you grabbed a key from Coach, making your way to your room.

“(Y/N),” you turned to Scott, he and Stiles motioned for you to come to their room.

You nodded your head, dropping your bag into your room before going to theirs.

“What is it?” you asked.

Your voice was lower than usual, they didn't question it.

“Four suspects,” Stiles began, laying down on the bed.

“Four suspects? Already?” Scott gasped.

“For what?” you asked, slightly confused as you raised an eyebrow.

“For who’s doing these sacrifices. I had five, but then I realized I had Derek on there twice,” Stiles said.

You tensed up, blinking your eyes.

“He died,” you replied.

“But did he?” Stiles pointed out.

Unbelievable

Scott’s eyes went wide, giving Stiles a look.

“I gotta go,” you wiped your face, opening the door.

“Wait, (Y/N),” Stiles began.

“Stiles, he died to keep us safe. Are you really suggesting he’s going around and killing innocent people?” you could feel your heart banging in your chest as you slowed your breath, looking at Stiles.

“No, it’s just,” Stiles started, although you knew he had no actual reason. You would never be able to understand what happened between the two of them.

“I’m going,” you ran your fingers through your hair, closing the door as you walked out, spotting Boyd walking down the stairs.

You sighed, walking to your room. What you’d do to go home.

---

After making sure everyone was in their rooms, you locked your door, pulling out one of your grimoires from your bag, sitting on your bed.

There has to be something about bringing people back.

If Derek came back, everything would be better, everyone would be better. It would take the pain away.

You just wanted it to be over. You were tired, you knew it. It was a shock that you held on this long, but you couldn't do it anymore. You didn't want to do it anymore. You could feel yourself suffocating as you sat there.

Your mind drifted off, zoning out as you felt tears rush to your eyes.

What is the matter with you?

“God,” you exhaled shakily, standing up. Maybe you just needed some air.

You could feel shivers going down your spine as you walked out of your room, facing towards the empty view. Nothing but darkness outside of the motel. It was quiet, almost too quiet. 

You took a deep breath, deciding to go back into your room, attempting to look for a spell or a potion or something. You needed something, anything.

---

Reductione animalibus

You read the name of the spell, pausing on it. This was for animals, not werewolves.

You let out a frustrated scream as you sat on the ground, holding the ancient book as you continued to flip through it.

You threw your book across the room, running your fingers through your hair, cursing yourself for not bringing more of your grimoires with you.

Maybe you needed a break, you just needed to rest for a minute.

You felt a cold air behind you, as you turned around, freezing as your eyes went wide.

“Derek?”

You immediately jumped up, backing away from him. 

His clothes were ripped, covered in blood. His skin was pale, like a ghost.

“I’m hallucinating. God, I’m going crazy,” you shook your head, keeping your distance.

“Are you seriously thinking about resting?” he asked.

“W-What?” you said softly, looking at him as your eyes softened.

“I mean, you got me killed. The least you can do is find a way to bring me back,” he shrugged as he began walking around your room, while you stepped back, stopping as you hit the wall.

“I didn't mean to,” you began.

“You never mean to do anything, (Y/N), that’s the problem with you,” it felt like someone stabbed your heart as your eyes watered, looking at Derek.

“Derek, no, it’s just,” you knew he was right, you didn't have the word to defend yourself.

“There’s no point in explaining yourself. The damage is done, I’m dead,” he began walking to you, as you looked down, feeling tears stream down your face.

“I’ll find a way to save you. I’ll find a way to bring you back,” you sniffled.

“You already know that there are no spells that can bring someone back. Except for one,” he said, crossing his arms as he handed you the grimoire, opening it up to a page.

Alterum immolare

“B-But this won't…” you started.

“Oh, come on. Think about it. Think about what you did,” he said.

Sacrifice yourself for Derek. To bring him back, to save him from whatever supernatural hell he was in.

“You killed me. Peter lost his only nephew. Cora lost her only family. Isaac and Boyd lost their alpha. To save you. You don’t deserve this!” he slammed his wrist on the wall next to your head, as you gasped loudly.

He was right, you knew he was right. You tried to hold back a sob, failing as you closed your eyes, crying softly as you slid down the wall, falling to the ground.

You opened your eyes, seeing the room empty around you. He wasn’t there. He was gone.

---

You let out a shaky breath, leaning against the door, making sure it was closed as you took your knife out of your bag, gripping it tightly.

“Animam hanc alteram sacrificabimus,” your eyes glowed purple as you read the spell, feeling your heartbeat in the back of your head, vision blurry as you looked at the book.

You took a breath, closing your eyes as you positioned the tip of your blade over your heart.

It’s better for everyone

You could feel the slight sting of the tip of the blade against your chest, as you counted down in your head.

Three, two, one

“(Y/N)!” you jumped slightly, hearing Stiles as he banged at your door.

A tear fell from your face as you ignored it, holding the blade up once again.

Before you could push it in, burying it into your chest, the door broke down, Stiles tackling you to the ground.

“Stiles!” you screamed at him.

“(Y/N), no! Stop!” he yelled, pushing your arms down as he sat on top of you.

“Dis,” he groaned, getting pushed off you as you stood up, holding the knife.

“Sorry about this,” Stiles ran to you, pushing you against the heater as you screamed out in pain, getting burned.

You let out a breath, dropping the knife as you looked at Stiles.

What the hell just happened? 

He wrapped his arms around you tightly, as you hugged him back, slightly out of it as you closed your eyes, sniffling, feeling tears rush from your face.

---

“So, it’s a sacrifice?” you asked, running down the stairs behind Stiles.

“Yeah, at first I thought it was just three werewolves but I guess it’s just the supernatural in general,” Stiles replied, taking deep breaths.

“Wait, then what about Lydia?” you asked.

“I don’t know,” he said.

The two of you ran to the bus, Allison, and Lydia close behind you. 

“We need to get the last match from the bus and find Scott,” Stiles ran to the bus, as you heard a slight noise, turning around as you froze.

“S-Stiles,” you whispered.

“Oh my god,” you heard Allison gasp.

Scott stood in front of you four, holding the match, covered in gasoline. You saw the pain on his face, his eyes were bloodshot with tears in them.

“S-Scott,” you heard Allison say softly, slowly approaching Scott.

“There’s no hope,” Scott’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“W-What are you talking about? T-There’s always hope,” Allison stuttered.

You stayed frozen, feeling pain rush to your chest as you looked at Scott.

“Not for me. Not for Derek,” Scott looked down, avoiding looking at any of you.

“Derek wasn’t your fault,” your voice was shaky as you took a step forward.

“Every time I fight back, it just gets worse and people get hurt. People die,” he sniffled.

“Scott, listen. This isn’t you, alright? This is someone inside your head telling you to do this. Okay? Just,” you could hear the pain in Stiles’ voice as tears welled up in his eyes.

“What if there isn't? What if it’s just me? What if doing this is actually the best thing I could do for everyone else?” Tears welled in your eyes as you heard Scott’s shaky voice.

“It all started the night I got bitten. Remember how it was? I was nothing. I was no one. I wasn't popular, o-or good at lacrosse. I wasn’t important. Maybe I should be no one again,” Scott cried, gripping onto the match.

“S-Scott, listen to me, okay?” you held Stiles’ hand, as the two of you stepped forward, walking to Scott.

“Y-You’re not no one. You’re…” you heard Stiles pause, taking a breath.

“Scott, you’re our best friend. We need you. S-Scott, you’re my family,” your voice broke as a tear fell to the ground.

“You're all I have left, Scott,” you cried.

“You’re my brother, Scott. Please. I-If you’re gonna do this,” the two of you stepped into the gasoline, 

“I-If you’re gonna do this, then you’ll j-just have to take us with you,” you held his hand, pulling the match out of it.

He began to cry, as his tears fell freely. You threw it away from the three of you, as tears fell down your face. You wrapped your arms around Scott and Stiles, as you heard Scott cry.

You heard him struggle for breath.

“It’s us three, Scott. Always and forever,” Stiles held onto the two of you.

“No!” you heard Lydia scream, as she pushed you, Scott, and Stiles to the side, just on time, as the match blew into the gasoline, setting it on fire.

---

You looked at the pack, who were all currently asleep on the bus. You agreed that it would be best for all of you. But you couldn’t sleep. You looked at the pack, you looked at your family, taking a deep breath as you stepped off the bus.

You leaned against the side, looking forward at the motel, getting lost in your thoughts.

“(Y/N),” you looked up at Stiles walking in front of you.

“Hey,” you said softly.

“Can’t sleep either?” he asked, standing next to you.

You nodded softly, as the two of you sat on the ground, leaning against the bus.

“I’m sorry about… well all of it,” you said softly.

“I’m sorry for not checking up on you,” he said.

“I’m fine,” you shook your head.

“I know you’re not, (Y/N), you don’t have to lie to me,” he said.

“The last time we had a conversation, we were fighting. He said he loved me, and I didn't say it back,” you bit your lip, holding back a cry.

“I was just so mad at him. I never got to tell him how much I loved him. How much he meant to me. I can’t… it’s too late,” you ran your hand through your hair as you sniffled.

“(Y/N), he knows you love him. The two of you are… the two of you were meant to be together. I’ve never seen you so happy with someone. He loved you and you loved him,” Stiles said softly as he wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

“Stiles, you don’t... T-These past few days… all I’ve been doing is getting mad at him. We’ve been fighting. S-So much and it's all my fault,” you closed your eyes.

“It’s not your fault. The more you yell at each other the more you know that it's right,” Stiles said.

“God, when did you get good at advice?” you laughed softly.

“I’ve always been good at this. Learned from the best,” he said, looking at you.

You scoffed, leaning on his shoulder.

“Thanks for being there for me, Stiles. Through everything,” you said softly.

“You’re always here for me, even when it's hard. I mean, you'd believe me when no one else does. I’m not ever going to leave you, (Y/N),” he said.

You kissed his forehead softly, as the two of you held onto each other, closing your eyes.

“Thanks for saving me,” you whispered.

“Anything for you.”

---

“I don't want to know. I really don’t want to know,” you jumped up, opening your eyes as you heard Coach’s voice.

“You probably missed the announcement. Meet’s canceled, we’re going home.”

You stretched your arms, yawning as you sat next to Stiles. You frowned as Ethan sat next to Scott.

“So, I’m not sure what happened last night, but I’m pretty sure you saved my life,” Ethan said, looking at Scott.

“Actually that was me,” Stiles interrupted.

You smiled softly, patting Stiles’ back as he sat down.

“I know,” you said.

“Yeah, it was me,” he said.

“Yeah, just shh,” you said softly.

“I’ll give you a piece of information,” you and Stiles leaned forward.

“We’re pretty sure Derek’s still alive,” you tensed as you heard Derek’s name.

“W-What?” you said.

“But, that means one of two things. He killed Ennis, so either he’ll have to join our pack, or Kali will kill him,” Ethan said.

“Are you… this bus needs to leave, like now,” you said, standing up.

“Wait, how do you know he’s alive?” Stiles stopped you.

“We all saw him fall and die next to Ennis, but when we got there, he was gone and Ennis was still there,” Ethan explained.

“Oh god,” you took a deep breath, looking at Stiles.

“Just breathe,” Stiles said to you.

“Yeah, totally. God, this bus could not possibly go any slower,” you said.

Stiles scoffed.

“Calm down, let’s just get home,” you nodded your head, as your leg bounced.

This was going to be a long ride home.

---

“Isaac, I’m going to Derek’s loft,” you said, running out of the bus as he ran behind you.

“Okay, I’ll ask Scott to drop me home,” he nodded.

“Catch,” you threw your apartment key to him, running to your car and driving away.

---

“Cora!” you yelled, running into the loft.

“Cora!” you yelled again, stopping as Derek stood in front of you.

“(Y/N),” he said softly.

“Oh my god. Derek?” you said softly.

“W-What are you doing here?” he stood in front of you, shirtless.

“I-I… I’m so happy you’re alive. I-I thought you were dead. A-And you’re here and you’re real, and n-not a hallucination,” you laughed as you walked to him.

“I have to tell you, I love you. I love you so much and I’m sorry I didn’t say it before,” you said softly.

“(Y/N),” he started, looking down at you.

“Derek? Where did you go?” you froze as you saw another lady walk down the stairs, recognizing her from school. She was Stiles’ teacher.

“Derek…” you said softly, not wanting to connect the pieces as your eyes looked between the two of them.

You could feel your heart shattering as you took a step back from Derek.

“Y-You didn’t…” you couldn't finish your sentence, knowing the obvious.

Derek looked at you, sighing before he looked down.

Part of you wanted him to deny it. But he didn't. He stood in front of you, as she gave you a look.

“Derek, tell me you didn’t...” your voice broke as you looked at him.

“I think you should go home,” he said, avoiding eye contact with you.

You could feel your heart breaking, exploding as your vision blurred, holding in a cry. You stumbled backward, running out of the loft, running to your car as you sat in it, frozen. 

You let out a loud sob, letting all your pain out, screaming as you cried.

You thought he was dead. You loved him and thought he loved you too. But now it was all over.

[fandom-hoarder]

Thank you for the tag @venhedish! Finally getting to this <3

nickname: so I’ve been avoiding putting a nickname on here for reasons, but I’ve been annoyed at myself about it cuz it’s not like i don’t have it on lj. I refer to myself as lg (as in saying the letters L-G) but obv I’m not ladygizarme here, and fh or hoarder just doesn’t ring right.

All this to say: crys. My nickname is crys (pronounced “chris”)

zodiac: aquarius sun, libra moon, scorpio ascendant

height: 5’1 (but people have a habit of forgetting that)

last movie I saw: 101 Dalmatians (1961)

last thing I googled: “stream osmosis jones”

favourite musician: how am I supposed to pick just one? I guess the beatles really have been a huge influence, even before I “discovered” them, and when I have to list a fav it’s them, even if I haven’t really been listening to them this year. My 14 y/o self’s love of the beatles, nirvana, green day, and korn has shaped a lot of my personal taste, as have sublime, evanescence, disturbed, no doubt, garbage, jewel, linkin park… basically alt-rock/nu-metal from the 2000s as a base. MCR. Uh, and don’t forget queen and the cure and aerosmith and led zepellin and metallica.

All of which makes me sound like I only like older music but lol I love a lot of new music/artists! I just don’t necessarily have a fav rn. Choosing favs is difficult for me obv.

song stuck in my head: Imaginary by Evanescence

other blogs: none

blogs following: I’m following close to 300 and I have slightly less than that following me (holy shit, hello everyone, welcome! I think most of you are not porn bots <3)

amount of sleep: typically 6-9 unless I’m having insomnia, and 10-14 on Sundays; this year has been mostly good for sleep and about 150% better than my sleep record at this point last year

lucky number: 3

what am I wearing: black stretchy capris, grey cami, red/blue/white/yellow tartan plaid flannel

dream job: ostensibly I want to be a big published author, but really I don’t have enough schmoozing will in me to get big enough for that. (also that would require me to actually work on my original stuff instead of fanfiction, which I’m just not feeling rn lol; I might accidentally project sam and dean onto my protagonists)

I wanna get paid to live and be creative however I want >_>  

Basically I want that composer/patron relationship you always see reblogged about Tchaikovsky and von Meck.

languages: just English 😫

play an instrument: I can sort of play piano. I am severely out of practice and feel like an introductory student when I try to read music.

favourite song: lmao ok I was trying to decide what my current fav song is between what’s been on repeat, but NO. I told myself this is what I always need to reply with and dammit I’m gonna:

“You Know My Name (Look Up The Number)” by The Beatles

random fact: I love cilantro. I call it my mistress.

Tagging: @fandomgirl667 @cordellwinchesterwalker @amill22 @sweetaspiesammy @tasteslikemolecules

+ anyone reading this that wants to, I tag you!

[myriadimagines]

Okay hi Sam, congrats again for 9k!! I'm terrible with requesting anything ever and gaaahh even when you're my friend I'm nervoussss because I'm just fearing I screw up. But maybe now when I don't have to make up any plot I could request?? But I requested an ID card from musicallisto too so you got this Jen... sooo could I get a ship drabble thing for The Maze Runner with prompt 32? (I literally just stuck my finger on random prompt BECAUSE I CAN'T CHOOSE MYSELF THEY ALL ARE SO GOOD) (1/7)

So for the apperance: I'm 5"8 girl, she/her. I have short, black pixie hair (my own hair color is brown), light skin and blue eyes with long eyelashes. I don't use makeup very often but sometimes I like to make myself pretty, usually if there's a birthday party or if I'm just bored. I usually wear t-shirts and jeans (long, capris or shorts depending on season). 2/7

Personality: I'm INFP-T Hufflepuff and very shy and timid with strangers, and I don't like big groups. At big parties you probably find me frozen against the wall and not moving. But with friends I'm very loud and make a lot of bawdy jokes. My friends say I'm loyal and kind. Despite that, I can be quite a hothead and it shows especially if I'm provoked by wrong people. 3/7

I also am very protective of my friends, going as far as cutting ties with people if they are mean to my friends (even if they haven't done anything for me personally). I've been told I'm like a lion protecting its pack in those situations. But if I have to deal with such situations myself (that people are mean to me) I'm incapable to survive from it without help, because I'm just blurting random things out if I'm angry at someone and I haven't learned to control it yet. 4/7

It often leads to people finding me childish when fighting. I find it difficult to talk verbally and I'm just awkward if I have to actually use my words. My hobbies include writing, learning to read more books, learning to play piano (I'm not very good with it yet though), play video + board games, taking long walks to the forest, fangirling and just clowning around. I want to be a crazy guinea pig lady when I'm old. 5/7

And for sexuality: I don't know my sexuality yet (I recently got to know there's a term called fictosexual though which means having sexual attraction for fictional characters), but I've been crushing on guys more than girls in fictional worlds. I've never dated anyone irl but I haven't really been wanting to date anyone as fictional characters have been enough for me as for now. But both genders are cool!! 6/7

Characters: Reader x Newt

Warnings: alcohol

Prompt: 32. “Oh God… I think I’m in love with you.”

Word Count: 475

A/N: thank u so much jenni!!! also u didnt screw this up at all and i’m super glad to hear u liked the prompt list :’) i debated between thomas and newt but decided to go with newt, i hope u like it!! 💕

NOT TAKING ANYMORE REQUESTS!

“Didn’t fancy on joining in on the celebrations?” Newt asks as he approaches you. He holds a mug out to you, and you wrinkle your nose, already knowing the disgusting alcohol concoction inside, but you take the cup anyway. He sits beside you, and you try to ignore how close his leg is to yours as he continues, “I have a good feeling about the new Greenie. I quite like him.”

Both you and Newt look over to the bonfire, where you can see Thomas a short distance away, getting to know the other Gladers. He looks disoriented, and understandably so — you remember how lost you felt upon entering the Glade for the first time.

The both of you turn away from the scene, falling silent as you listen to your fellow Gladers loudly cheering and jostling one another, enjoying the festivities. You enjoy Newt’s quiet company far more than the wild party raging on behind you, and you’re grateful for his calming presence. He takes a sip from his drink, wrinkling his nose at it slightly before he remarks, “Do you remember your first day?”

You gulp. It comes to you in your nightmares, the flashing lights, the loud mechanic sounds of the elevator. You slowly nod, and Newt chews his lip, “Yeah, me too. Was ages ago, but I still remember it like yesterday.”

“Do you think we’ll ever leave this place?” you blurt, and Newt falls silent, leaving you feeling miserably uneasy. Your shoulders slump, knowing the answer to your own question, and you let out a sad laugh as you remark, “I shouldn’t talk about this. We’re supposed to be partying.”

Newt doesn’t respond again, before he lets out a heavy sigh. He turns to face you, and you feel your cheeks getting flushed under his intense gaze as he tells you, “Look, I know it’s easy to feel hopeless about this whole situation, but we’ll be alright. We’ve got each other, yeah?”

You know Newt’s referring to the entire Glade, but you can’t help but think about just the two of you in this private moment. Newt’s always had that effect on you, making you feel as if you’re the only two people who matter, and you find yourself at loss for words before you suddenly confess, “Oh God… I think I’m in love with you.”

Newt blinks at you in surprise as you quickly clasp a hand over your mouth, but he quickly laughs to ease the tension. Gesturing to your cup, he teases, “I see the drink has gotten to you.”

You snort, quickly downing some, as if trying to wash the words out of your mouth. But Newt leans his leg up against yours as he takes a sip from his own drink, and you can see him smile out of your corner of your eye.

[hopelikethemoon]

Movie Night (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Movie Night Rating: PG-13  Length: 2900 Warnings: Slight voyeurism, light smut (teasing in public).  Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set January 1999. Two days without MTMF, did you miss me? I’ve been working on this over the past two days, trying to get my desire to write back after the unpleasantness.  Summary: Family movie night is always an event. 

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After the girls had gotten their fill of watching Mulan for the dozenth time, you and Steve helped them set up a pillow fort in the middle of the family room floor, while Javier, Monica, and Nadia ran a relay team on bringing popcorn and Capri Sun out to keep them occupied while the six of you tried to enjoy The Mask of Zorro. 

“I wanted sweet popcorn.” Josie huffed a little, but shoveled a handful of popcorn into her mouth, before retreating back into the pillow fort with Olivia and a full bowl of popcorn. 

“Please don’t let Sofía eat any.” You warned.

Olivia poked her head out, “Sofía is sleeping.” She told you as she shushed you. 

“Hey, no.” Steve shook his head. 

“It’s fine,” You assured him before turning towards Javier as he returned with two glasses of wine and a bottle tucked under his arm. “Classy.”

He winked at you, “Figured we could do something different for movie night.”

You took your glass from him and took a sip, “You read my mind.” You took the bottle from him, sitting it down on the coffee table beside your glass of wine. “Girls, do you have everything you need?”

“Yes!” They called back.

“I finally got the movie rewound,” Connie announced as she flopped down onto the opposite side of the sofa, beckoning Steve to her. 

“Has no one ever heard ‘be kind, rewind’?” Steve chuckled as he sank down beside her and stretched his legs out to rest his feet on the coffee table. 

“I don’t get why Blockbuster doesn’t just check every VHS,” Nadia pointed as she joined Monica on the armchair, “I kinda hope one day there’s an easier way to watch a movie.” 

Monica popped a piece of popcorn into her mouth, “You mean like your crazy idea for being able to watch movies at home with the touch of a button?”

“It’s not that crazy,” Nadia protested, nodding her head towards Javier. “He agreed with me.”

“Yeah,” Javier said as he sat down beside you. “Picture it — any movie you want, right on your TV.” He draped his arm around you.

You grabbed the blanket off the back of the sofa, pulling it over your lap and curling up beneath it and leaning into Javier’s side.

“I dunno, Peña.” Steve hummed thoughtfully. “Seems like it might require a lot of storage.” 

“It could work.” Javier picked up the edge of the blanket, situating it so it was over both of your laps. “You know,” He said to you. “I realized why you wanted to see this movie.”

“Oh?” You smirked at him, pulling your arm out from beneath the blanket to play your fingers through his hair. 

“Antonio.” He arched a brow at you.

You scrunched up your nose, “Like you don’t love Catherine Zeta-Jones.” You teased, tugging at his hair before you leaned forward to grab your glass of wine, taking a sip. 

Monica arched a brow, “I can see that.”

“Right?” You laughed, settling back into Javier’s side, sliding your arm behind him. “Steve, who’s on your list?”

“My what?”

“Your freebie.” You laughed, enjoying the brief look of panic on his face as he looked towards Connie. “You know, who would you get a freebie with if the opportunity arose?”

“Uh,” Steve scratched behind his ear. “I don’t know—“

Connie interrupted her, “Mine is definitely Harrison Ford. Though, Bruce Willis has a certain appeal too.”

“Does everyone have a list?” Steve looked towards Monica and Nadia. 

Monica shrugged, “It would be a fight over Kate Winslet or Winona Ryder.” 

Nadia popped a handful of popcorn into her mouth, “Definitely Winona.”

Steve gave you a weary list, “What the f-u-c-k?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Sorry?”

He raked his hand over his face, sighing heavily as he looked towards Connie, “Michelle Pfeiffer, I guess.”

“Really?” She hummed thoughtfully. “I guess I can see that.” Connie looked towards you then, “I thought you had a thing for George Clooney?”

“I go through phases.”

Javier squeezed your thigh under the blanket, “Let’s not forget your Kevin Costner phase. I don’t know how many times we’ve watched Robin Hood.”

“I cannot tell a lie, my taste varies.” You leaned your head against his shoulder, pressing your thigh against his beneath the cover. “You also love what’s her face from Jurassic Park.”

“Who?” Steve questioned.

Monica perked up, “Laura Dern?”

“Yeah! Her.” You nodded, nudging Javier in the ribs.

Javier shrugged, “I came for the dinosaurs and stayed for Dr. Sattler.” 

“Now that we’ve gone down that path, how about we start the movie?” Connie suggested as she picked up the remote and hit play. 

“For the record,” You interjected. “Sam Neill could get it.”

“Yes!” Connie agreed with a laugh as she grinned at you. 

Steve and Javier exchanged looks and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

You pulled the blanket up around your arms as you shifted beside him. Javier wrapped his arm around your shoulders, maneuvering you so your head was resting against his chest more comfortably. 

“You should grow your hair out again,” You told Javier as you tilted your head to look at him, before looking between him and the TV screen. 

“And look like a prisoner?” His brows rose upwards as he looked down at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

You reached up and brushed your fingers over the hair that fell against his forehead, “I like the unkempt look.” You ran your hand over his chest as you leaned in to kiss him. 

He brushed his nose against yours as he drew back from the kiss, “Summer isn’t too far away, baby.”

“It’s January.” You laughed softly, shaking your head as you dragged your fingers through his too-short hair. “I guess I’ll just have to get my fill of unkempt from Zorro.” You sighed dramatically before turning your gaze back to the screen — watching as Alejandro and Joaquin got out of their predicament. 

Javier’s hand idly stroked your bare leg beneath the blanket, his touch warming you far better than even the blanket had. 

Chewing on your bottom lip, you tilt your head just enough to catch Javier’s gaze. He canted his head to the left, a brow arching upwards curiously as his fingers trailed along your inner thigh, rising up to skim just beneath the bottom of your shorts. 

Oh.

You punctuated your nod with a quick kiss, before turning back to watch the TV, just in time to watch Joaquin meet his early demise. 

You shifted beneath the blanket, letting your legs part far enough to accommodate Javi’s wandering hand. His touches were teasing — his fingers skimmed up your inner thigh, barely brushing over the crotch of your underwear, before retreating back down your thigh. 

It made concentrating on the movie a little more difficult. 

And no one was aware. You glanced towards Monica and Nadia — both of whom were staring at the screen and eating popcorn. Steve and Connie were whispering to each other, their gaze fixed on the screen too. 

You leaned forward to pick up your wine glass and your own bowl of popcorn. You took a sip of wine, sitting the bowl down on the blanket where your leg was pressed against Javier’s. “You want your wine?” 

“Yeah, baby.” Javier pulled his hand out from under the blanket and dragged his fingers through his hair. 

You took another sip before sitting your glass back down and picking up his. Javier brushed his fingers against yours as he took the glass from you, a smirk playing over his lips as he met your eyes over the rim of the wine glass as he took a sip. 

Both of you managed to behave yourselves as the movie progressed — right up until the scene between Elena and Zorro in the confessional. 

Your hand slid back beneath the blanket, watching him out of the corner of your eye as your fingers ghosted over his cock through the heavy fabric of his jeans. 

His ring clinked against the side of the Corelle bowl holding the popcorn between your laps and you froze. No one else seemed to notice — too focused on the film, as Love pursued Zorro. If they had noticed, Javier played it off like he was sitting the popcorn aside on the arm of the sofa. 

He relaxed back against the cushion, exhaling slowly as he gave a short nod of his head. Neither of you were bold enough to do much more than grope each other — not when everyone and the children were right there, but the thrill was there nevertheless. 

You bit down on your bottom lip, your eyes fixed on the TV as you cupped him more intentionally, rubbing your thumb down the length of him. His jeans kept him confined, but you could still feel the way he hardened beneath your touch. 

Javier cleared his throat, using that as an excuse to unwind his arm from around you and tuck it under the blanket. He slid his arm beneath yours, his hand grabbing at your thigh possessively. 

“Can we pause real quick?” Monica interjected, “I need to use the restroom.”

“Yeah,” You sat up a little straighter then, “Connie do you still have the remote?”

“Yep!” Connie fumbled for it on the sofa, before hitting pause. 

Javier reached for the bowl of popcorn again, sitting it on his lap as he grabbed a few pieces and popped them into his mouth, giving you a sideways look. 

“I think I’m going to go put Sofía down,” You announced as you rose to your feet, stretching your arms above your head. 

You glanced back at Javier, watching the way he was watching you. You knelt down to peel Sofía out from the pillow fort, laughing at the mess the girls had managed to make with the popcorn — kernels and pieces of popcorn strewn across the floor.

Josie whispered to you, “We were feeding Bruno.” She pointed to her Beanie Baby. 

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood,” You teased her, cradling Sofía to your chest as you stood back up. “Hey Javi, do you mind helping me with Sofía?”

You weren’t sure you had ever seen Javier move as swiftly as he did. He was up and off the sofa, following you down the hallway to the nursery. 

“I haven’t seen you move like that since 1987.” You taunted as you bounced Sofía in your arms, turning back to look at him as he lingered in the threshold. 

Javier snorted, “What can I say, baby? I’ve been incentivized.” He dragged his fingers through his hair as he leaned against the doorframe. 

You smirked, “We didn’t even make it to the kiss.” 

Javier rubbed at the side of his neck as he stepped further into the room. “It’s not like we don’t know what happens.” You pointed out as you settled your daughter into her crib. “We need to do another movie night. Just the two of us.” 

He nodded his head slowly, “That new Star Wars film is out in a couple months.” 

“May, right?” You questioned as you leaned down to kiss Sofia’s head, before walking away from the bed. “Is this a date, Javi?”

Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth, “I’ll never stop dating you, baby.” He told you as you approached him. 

“What a sap,” You scrunched up your nose and rolled your eyes as you reached out and draped your arms over his shoulders. “Have you always been this much of a sap?”

He rocked his jaw as he stared down at you, “Back in the 80s, I met someone who turned me into a sap.”

You snapped your fingers, “I bet it was that fucking Murphy character.” 

Javier chuckled, “Bingo.” He ran his hands along your waist as he leaned down to kiss you, a slow kiss that only served to stoke the fire you felt in your veins. 

A soft moan escaped you as your lips parted against his, your fingers winding through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

He squeezed your hip, “We should go back out there.”

You nodded, brushing your nose against his. “As soon as they’re gone…” Your brows rose upwards and you caught his bottom lip between your teeth. 

Javier pulled you towards him abruptly, your chests pressed together. “I’m counting the minutes, baby.” He assured you as he kissed you again, his tongue invading your mouth — winding you up, only to abandon you. 

You trailed after him down the hallway, grabbing his ass before you stepped around him and his scandalized expression, as you made your way back to the sofa. You grabbed your wine glass, finishing off the last of it. 

“Did she go down easily?” Connie questioned as she tucked her legs beneath her. 

“Surprisingly easy.” You nodded, rubbing your thumb over your bottom lip as you glanced over the back of the sofa at Javier. 

“Olivia had to go potty.” She explained, pulling your attention back to her. “Steve’s handling it.”

Javier settled back down on the sofa beside you, stretching his legs out and propping them up on the coffee table in front of him. “Should’ve known they’d need a potty break.” 

Monica laughed, “And here I thought you two were going to have your own bathroom break.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” You rolled your eyes and flipped her off with a grin as you shifted so you were laying across his lap with your head propped up on the arm of the sofa. “We are capable of behaving. Shocking as it might be.”

“Barely,” Javier admitted, stroking his fingers over your hair as he looked down at you with a smirk before turning his attention back to Monica. “You enjoying the film?” 

Monica shrugged, “It’s not a masterpiece, but it’s enjoyable.”

You feigned offense, “Sacrilege. The Murphys are your parents now.”

“Rude!” She gave a look. “Did I criticize your taste in men? Because I could go there if you’d like me to.”

“Javier is sitting right here.” You laughed, turning to look up at him with a grin. 

“Exactly,” Monica shook her head. “I’m just saying, your taste is suspect. I respect it but…” 

You shrugged, “I didn’t choose to fall in love with a man who still dresses like it’s the seventies, but I’ve come to terms with that.”

“Baby… Shots fired.” Javier pursed his lips as he looked down at you. 

“Are we roasting, Javier?” Steve questioned as he returned to the family room, sending Olivia back into the blanket fortress. “Because there’s a grill out back we can roast him on.”

“If you bring up the fucking burnt burgers—“

“Daddy!” Josie popped her head out. “You said a naughty word.”

“JoJo, not now.”

“Mommy, he said a bad word!”

You started laughing and quickly it spiraled out of control to the point that you were laughing so hard you ended up crying. 

“You better believe I’m going to bring up burnt burgers,” Steve continued. “How the hell-“

“Daddy!” Olivia popped her head out of the fort beside Josie. 

“Stephen.” Connie scolded him. 

You started laughing even harder, sitting up and coughing as you tried to catch your breath. “I’m wheezing.”

“Baby, it’s not that funny.” Javier complained, but that barely deterred him. “You’ve got a lot of balls bringing that up Murphy… Or, actually not, come to think of it.”

“Ouch, Peña.” Steve huffed. “That’s a below the belt jab.”

Javier rolled a shoulder, “Bringing up one grilling mistake for the rest of my life sure seems like a below the belt jab.” His brows rose upwards warningly. “At least I don’t still go duck hunting.”

“Says the man who enjoys going skeet shooting.” Steve shot back. 

“I enjoy skeet when the company’s not being a jackass.”

“Javier!” You slapped his thigh.

Josie seemed to have the answer for stopping the two grown children from fighting. She emerged from the blanket fort, hands on her hips and glared at Javier. 

“Fuck!”

Everyone stopped at that. 

“Josie!” You snapped. 

“Joséfina Selina Peña.” Javier hissed out.

“Finally some peas and quiet.” Josie sighed dramatically and retreated back into the fort. 

“Our daddies are such gophers.” Olivia said as she pulled the blanket entrance shut. 

“Gophers.” Monica parroted, which sent all of you back into a spiral of laughter. 

“More like whack-a-mole.” You pointed out with a snort as you grabbed for the remote. “We’ve got half a movie left to watch and one of the best kiss scenes in modern film. Less bickering, gentlemen.”

“We’re not bickering.” Javier insisted as he sank back down onto the sofa, dragging his fingers through his hair. “But you’re right about the kiss.”

“Thank you.” You winked at him. “Who doesn’t love a sexy sword fight followed by a different kind of sword fight.”

You hit the play button, tossing the remote aside as you settled in against Javier. “Doesn’t beat our kisses, though.” You assured him as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

He turned to grin at you, “Not even close.” Javier rested his hand on your thigh, rubbing his thumb against your skin. “I love you.” He whispered. 

You grinned to yourself. “I love you too.” You told him curling your arm around behind him as you settled your cheek against his shoulder.  

[prettybuckybaby]

in the flood you'll build an ark and sail us to the moon

The avengers meet Peter's daughter.

part three of single parent peter parker

masterlist

read on ao3 here

The Avengers don’t officially meet Leia until Saturday. They give Peter and Leia space on the Friday knowing how much Peter was, unsurprisingly, upset after the whole lockdown event on Thursday evening. Nobody really expected it to happen on Saturday, either, but Peter’s always thought that having children makes life unpredictable.

Leia and Peter are enjoying a lazy morning. They sleep in longer than they normally would, Peter managing to convince Leia to close her eyes for another hour or so when she storms into his room to wake him up. Peter is vaguely aware of Pepper knocking on his door at some point and opening it slightly, cooing when she sees the pair cuddled together. When they eventually surface, Peter smiles at the new photo of them pinned on the fridge, taken less than an hour ago, both of them smiling peacefully in their sleep.

The morning is one of domestic bliss. They make pancakes together in the kitchen, Leia eats most of the chocolate chips before Peter has a chance to put them in the batter. He pretends to be annoyed for all of thirty seconds before he laughs and kisses the top of her head as he fishes another packet out of the cupboard above her head.

Their peaceful morning-turned-afternoon is interrupted by Peter’s phone ringing just as they are settling down to watch a film. Peter laughs as Leia groans dramatically.

“Everything alright, Mr Stark?” Peter asks when he answers the phone. He frowns at the hesitation Tony takes.

“Pete, I’m sorry, but Fury’s called a meeting. I’ve tried my best to get you out of it, but he won’t listen,” Peter sighs heavily, rubbing his eyes. “Any chance you could pop down?”

“Yeah, just…just lemme find Miss Potts, see if she can watch Leia for a bit,” He frowns when he hears Tony suck in a breath.

“Sorry, Pete. Pep’s in a meeting. Some last-minute emergency in New Zealand,” Peter doesn’t say anything, but Tony hears him sigh down the line. “You okay, kid?”

“Yeah. Thinking.”

“You could just bring her along,” Tony suggests lightly. “It’ll probably only be quick. Nobody would mind at all,” He makes an apologetic sound. “Sorry for crashing your morning, kid,”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He sighs lightly. “Just gimme a few minutes to put some clothes on,” Tony snorts as he agrees and hangs up.

---------------

Twenty minutes later, Peter is entering conference room E. Everybody but Fury looks up when he enters, all offering their greetings. Fury only looks up from his papers when he speaks up.

“Parker. Lovely that you could grace us with your presence.” Tony’s lips quirk at the obvious fake smile that Peter flashes at Fury, snorting when it disappears the moment the director looks back down. Peter walks further into the room and the Avengers all smile when they notice Leia following, still in her Spider-man pyjamas, one hand holding Peter’s and the other holding on tightly to Bearbear. When the young girl notices Tony, she smiles brightly and lets go of her father’s hand, reaching out for the older man. Tony grins at her, lifting her up and spinning her around in his chair.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Even though Tony tries to keep his voice down, Fury’s head snaps up when he hears him talk. Peter sits down in the empty chair next to Tony, rolling his eyes when Fury speaks again.

“No. No children allowed. Absolutely not.”

“You heard the man, Peter,” Sam sighs dramatically from where he’s sat opposite Peter. He slides down far enough in his seat that he can kick Peter’s out from under the desk. “No children. You need to leave,” Bucky snorts from two seats across.

“Wha…hey!” Nearly everyone laughs at the annoyed look on Peter’s face. Fury just narrows his eyes. “No offense, Mr Fury, Sir, but you didn’t really give me enough notice to arrange a babysitter.”

“Not my issue, Parker. Out.” Fury demands simply, pointing to the door. Peter narrows his eyes, staring at him for a few long moments. He debates with himself whether annoying Fury more is worth it. He decides against it before he stands up, not caring when his chair falls over. Natasha covers her laugh with a cough.

“Fine. C’mere Leia,” The girl lifts her head from where she’s place it on Tony’s shoulder, her fingers messing up his hair. She moans, high and long, burying herself in Tony’s chest.

“Wanna stay with Uncle Mista Stark,” Peter shoots her an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, well, Mr Angry doesn’t want you with Uncle Mr Stark because he’s too busy being a big meanie,” He whispers, but his voice is loud enough that everyone in the room hears him clearly. Fury is growling when he replies.

“One peep out of her and she’s out, you hear me?” Peter doesn’t reply, just picks his chair up from the floor and sits down. He smiles when he sees Tony running his fingers through Leia’s hair. The man smirks at him when she starts falling asleep in his lap.

“She gets this from you, you know.” He lifts the fingers from her hair, immediately putting them back when she whimpers softly. “Does this send all Parkers to sleep? Or just the children?”

“STARK!” Peter smirks when Fury snaps.

---------------

Peter decides Tony is a stone-faced liar when Fury is still droaning on an hour and three quarters later. He’s fairly certain that Steve is the only one of them actually listening. If he didn’t know Natasha any better, he would think that she’s talking notes with how she’s writing and glancing up every so often. But he does know Natasha and knows for a fact that she’s actually editing Peter’s essay on Othello that is due in next week. Clint is watching Fury but clearly not paying attention, Tony is still carding his fingers through a sleeping Leia’s hair, and Bruce is face down on the table, possibly sleeping. Either side of Steve, Bucky and Sam are throwing things at each other, struggling to contain their laughter each time one of them hits Steve and he huffs.

Leia is just beginning to stir in Tony’s arms when Fury wraps up another forty-five minutes later, just as Peter starts to contemplate grabbing her from his mentor’s arms and making a run for it. She turns her head towards her and makes grabby hands as Fury picks up his papers, says “Dismissed.” and then walks right out of the room. He lets her crawl out of Tony’s arms and into his.

“Lunch time?” He asks quietly, smiling when she nods sleepily. “What are we fancying?”

“Mac’roni?” She asks quietly after thinking for a few moments. She giggles when Peter fakes a groan.

“Again? Are you sure?” She just keeps giggling as he stands up. He gets to the door before he hesitates and turns back towards his team. “You can join us if you…if you want to. I mean, you don’t have to, but I know you want to meet her properly and-”

“Breathe, kid,” Tony laughs as the other just smile at him. Peter sighs in relief when Clint grins at him.

“This macaroni any good?” Leia giggles again.

“Daddy makes the best mac’roni, mister,” She smiles sweetly, squirming until Peter puts her down.

“The best, huh?”

“In the whole world!” Leia promises, bouncing slightly on her feet.

“The whole world?” Natasha asks, mock dis-belief lacing her voice. “That’s a lot of macaroni you must have eaten,” Leia just smiles and nods before looking back up at her father. He grins down at her.

“C’mon then, munchkin. Let’s go and make some macaroni,” He holds the door open for Leia to leave the room, following close behind her. Before the door shuts, they can hear Leia convincing Peter to let her have ice cream after her pasta.

“You guys coming?” Tony asks, standing up and turning back towards them as he holds the door open.

----------------

By the time they make it up to the kitchen in the Penthouse, Peter is cooking, one pan filled with water just beginning to boil, a wooden spoon balancing on the lid of another. Leia is sitting on top of the glass kitchen table, legs crossed, drinking a capri sun.

“You’re not supposed to be up there, trouble,” Tony teases with a fake stern look. He lasts about thirty seconds, breaking when Leia just giggles at him.

“So now you have two kids you can’t stay mad at, huh, Stark?” Tony scowls as Bucky walks past him and lifts himself up onto the counter.

“That is not true.” He argues, glaring at the super soldier. The other man just raises a single eyebrow.

“It is so true!” Clint insists, pinching Leia’s cheek softly, grinning up at Natasha when the young girl giggles. Natasha smiles back before turning back to where she was looking at the fridge. She trails her fingers gently over the picture pinned next to the Iron Man colouring.

“No.” Tony’s scowl deepens. “Nope. Not true. I’ve never even met these brats. Kids. Yuck. I hate children. Sure am glad I don’t know any.” Tony’s façade begins to crack when Peter snorts, breaking completely when Leia bursts into a fit of giggles. He pokes her cheek gently, always gently. “You’ve blown my cover now. Now everyone is going to know that I have feelings!”

“Oh no!” Peter gasps in mock despair as he pours a whole box of macaroni into the pot of water. “Imagine. People no longer confusing you with a robot. The horror.” Tony scowls again.

“It’s official. Leia, you’re now my favourite kid. You’ve got the top spot. Congratulations! Parker, you’ve been bumped down. Shame.”

“As if she wasn’t your favourite anyway. I was replaced as soon as you set eyes on her. I can’t even be mad about it.” Peter sighs softly as he opens the fridge, holding two bags up for Leia to look at. “What sort of cheese do you want, Leia? Red or white?” She takes them both in her hands and looks between them for a moment, considering.

“Yes.” Leia eventually nods at her father. He rolls his eyes, soft smile painting his lips.

“Pick one, please, princess,” Leia frowns before Tony winks at her.

“The red, right, Leia?” He hands the bag of red shredded cheese to Peter. As soon as he turns away, he puts the other bag, the one half full of white shredded cheese, in the big pocket of Leia’s t-shirt, whispering something in her ear. Peter turns around when Leia giggles, narrowing his eyes.

“What are you doing?” Tony and Leia look up at him, identical smiles on their faces.

“Nothing, Daddy,” Peter scowls at Tony.

“You’re corrupting my daughter, Stark.” Leia giggles when Tony shrugs his shoulders. “Sweetheart, you wanna stir for a bit while I drain the pasta?” She nods enthusiastically, not stopping until Tony has picked her up and carried her over to the pans. Peter smiles as he hands over the wooden spoon before he picks up the other pan. Peter stands at the sink for a few moments, watching the scene, smiling when every few seconds Leia looks over Tony’s shoulder at him and giggles. Tony shushes her every time she does, which just makes her giggle harder. “How you doing, Leia?”

“Done, Daddy,” She says after Tony nods at her. Peter brings the now drained pot of pasta over, pouring the cheese sauce Leia has been stirring into it, before turning it into a baking dish. He smiles as Leia grabs a handful of cheese off the counter and sprinkles it over the top.

“Come and meet some people,” Peter says after he’s put the dish into the oven and set the timer. He narrows his eyes when he notices Leia’s hand in her pocket and Tony smiling innocently. “What are you up to?” She shakes her head but reaches out towards Peter, slapping his cheek the way she sometimes sees Tony do. He rolls his eyes when he hears Tony’s delighted laughter. They turn towards the others and Leia doesn’t even wait for Peter to introduce them, just smiles up at Steve, who is standing closest to them.

“Hello, Mr Cap ‘Merica,” Steve laughs softly as Sam snorts.

“Oh, my God, there’s two of them,” He whispers. He laughs when Peter narrows his eyes playfully.

“Sorry for teaching her manners, Mr Wilson,” Peter rolls his eyes. “If I ever have another child-”

“Mr Falcon!” Leia laughs and points at Sam, who just frowns as the others laugh at him. Peter smiles as he places Leia back on the table, leaving her to talk to the others. He sits and watches for a while before he checks on the macaroni. He decides the pasta needs a few more minutes and puts it back in the oven. He turns back around just in time to see Leia take her hand out of her pocket and hand something to Tony, and the man lift his own hand to his mouth. He clears his throat, pursing his lips when Leia looks up at him and blinks her eyes.

“Open your hands,” Leia frowns a little bit when she spreads her fingers wide. He narrows his eyes at the piece of cheese clinging to her skin. “Empty your pocket.”

“Kid,” Tony swallows and tries to interrupt, but Peter just ignores him.

“Empty. Now, please,” He doesn’t take his eyes off Leia, who just pouts when he doesn’t move. Her pout deepens when Peter cocks an eyebrow, and she pulls the bag of cheese out of and hands it up to him. “Thank you, Princess,” He takes the bag out of her hand and puts it back in the fridge. On his way, he whacks Tony over the head with the bag, snorting when Tony groans dramatically.

“Mad at me, Daddy?” Leia asks quietly when Peter sits down and doesn’t say anything. Peter sighs and takes her hands in his, squeezing gently.

“No, Sweetie. Daddy’s not mad. Well,” He pauses, smirking up at Tony slightly. “Maybe a little bit. But only at Mr Stark,” Leia frowns for a moment before she smiles and nods.

“Okay.” Tony snorts at her response.

“Thanks for the support, kiddo. Really appreciate it,” Peter smiles softly before pulling Leia onto his knees.

“You put more cheese in the sauce, huh?”

“Ruin it?” Leia’s eyes fill with tears as she speaks, not meeting Peter’s eyes. Peter coos and lifts her chin, making her look at him.

“No, baby. Do you want to know why?” Leia nods, letting Peter wipe away the single tear that has fallen. “Mr Stark is the smartest man I know. He’s cleverer than Dr Banner, and Dr Banner knows lots and lots about lots of different things, yeah? Mr Stark knows more than even him. Mr Stark is the cleverest man in the whole world, but here’s the thing, Leia. He’s not clever enough to realise how predicable he is,”

“Wha’s predict’ble?” She asks, eyes looking less red than they did moments ago.

“Means I know what he’s gonna do,”

“Because you’re cleverer than him.” She states as a fact, nodding her head. “I know that.”

“No,” Peter shakes his head. “Mr Stark is just a bit silly, sometimes, sweet. He always does the same thing with macaroni. Likes having two types of cheese in the sauce, just like you, and always tries to put more in. And he doesn’t think I notice when he’s whispering to you to put a handful in when Daddy’s not watching,” Peter laughs when Tony groans.

“Stupid super hearing,” He mumbles just as the alarm goes off. Peter ruffles Leia’s hair as he stands up and gets the macaroni out of the oven. He picks one of Leia’s plates out of the cupboard and, once it’s cooled some, spoons a bit of pasta onto it, and hands it to her.

“Thank you, Daddy,” She smiles when Peter sits down in front of her and takes a forkful of food from her plate.

“What? The rest of us don’t get table service?” Clint asks, huffing out a laugh when Peter rolls his eyes.

“Sure,” He offers, not looking up at him. “Soon as you start wearing Spider-man pyjamas and letting me do your hair, Mr Clint. Helps if you love me, as well,” Peter laughs when Clint clears his throat and pouts at him, fluttering his eyelashes.

“Love you, Peter,”

“Nice try, Barton,” Natasha smiles when Peter rolls his eyes and Leia giggles. The others in the room all get up and get themselves some pasta, Tony sliding a plate in front of Peter, so he stops eating his daughter’s. Leia giggles when she starts stealing pieces from Peter’s plate instead.

“Oh, my god. Where did you learn to cook like this, spider-boy?” Bucky groans. “Thought Leia was exaggerating when she said it was the best in the world,” Peter shrugs, smiling softly.

“Mama taught him!” Leia smiles up at them. Everyone in the room stays quiet for a moment, until Peter replies, a soft, happy look on his face.

“Yeah,” He breathes, pinching Leia’s cheek. “Yeah, she did,” Everyone around the table relaxes, the tension that had grown at the mention of Leia’s mother fading away. They all start up their own conversations, letting Peter and Leia be in their own little world for a while.

Peter is just pushing the pasta left over around his plate when he looks up at Tony and clears his throat.

“Mr Stark?” Tony hums slightly as he looks up, frowning slightly at the look on Peter’s face. “It would have been her birthday on Tuesday,”

“Eighteen, huh?” Tony asks with a sad smile. Peter nods, looking back down.

“Yeah,” He chokes out. “Leia and I are going out for the day, you know. It’s been cleared with school and Aunt May’s taken the day off from the hospital to come with us. We were just gonna go to the zoo, visit her grave, and stuff. We were wondering if…if you’d come with us? Spend the day,” He looks at Tony’s face but avoids his eyes as his voice drops to a whisper. “She would have liked you,” Tony freezes, and Peter tries to ignore the way he can feel the others listening, even as they try to pretend they’re still deep in their own talks.

“You don’t want me there. It’s your day, kid. You should spend it together, as a family,” Tony sighs, trying to let the kid down gently.

“Exactly. As a family.” Peter drops his head back down, stomach dropping when Tony is quiet for what feels like a few seconds and a hundred years.

“You really want me there?” Peter’s head shoots up, nodding, wide, hopeful eyes meeting Tony’s. The older man sighs, smiling slightly. “Okay, kid,”

“Thanks, Dad,” Leia tugs on Peter’s sleeve after he speaks, and the teen turns to face her when she starts asking about ice cream. He doesn’t see the tears that fill Tony’s eyes. No-one else mentions them.

[thelioncourts]

Okay why are people scared to write Laurent/Regent? I'm curious about it also.

well...anything involving the regent in a “ship” stance is going to have to be writing about pedophilia and, even though it’s an imperative part of laurent as a character and of the books as a whole, people are scared/hesitant/disgusted to explore that aspect (even if they’ll read about it)

i think something that scares people the most is that writing laurent/regent, imo, is that, at some point, it wasn’t “nonconsensual” to laurent. that’s not me saying it wasn’t nonconsensual, please do not come into my askbox screaming about it, i’m very aware, but in that. when you’re 13 and traumatized by the loss of your entire family, someone “”loving”” you is something you’re going to crave. so writing laurent/regent in canon beginnings (or even aus where the same general ‘laurent loses mom, dad, and auguste and is taken care of by uncle’) involves an almost lolita-like writing of it. 

there’s also the ‘fiction can’t talk about bad things or it’s romanticizing it’ issue which is just -- horribly frustrating to continue to see. i mean, in the capri fandom people have called others pedophilic for reading/writing laurent/regent (insanity i tell you) and like :)) it’s in the book. so it’s a totally valid thing to explore.

idk. coming from spn where, for the most part, dark aspects are very much explored on a regular basis (the trauma of sam and dean’s childhoods, the covert incest john created with dean, sam’s boykingness, dean’s implied ways of getting money for him and sam to eat, everything with lucifer, general loss of body autonomy, etc.) being in capri is interesting. but the regent is a very under-explored character in turn. because he is a lot more than laurent’s creepy uncle. the man arranged for the murder of his own brother, the man -- no doubt -- had a plan to get rid of auguste before damen inevitably killed him. the man had a plan to eventually get rid of laurent and i often wonder how soon he started thinking of that plan. the man beheaded a 14yo and sent his head in a bag as a warning. the man -- possibly, as some fan theories have said -- poisoned the queen of vere. the man somehow had a hand in almost completely destroying akielos and laurent seemed quite unaware until it was right in his face via damen. and! from what we know, he’s incredibly smart. like. incredibly. so yeah, idk. that’s my rambling of the day.