#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.

[penguinmerchant]

"Pet" Binding (with a twist)

This binding is a little different than what I've done so far! This is "Pet" by C.S.Pacat, but with notes from @lucky-clover-gazette. The notes on this read along were SO funny and I knew I wanted to feature them in a bound work, but they wouldn't really make sense without the context of the original work. And so I mushed both the original work and the notes together!

So the idea here was to make it look like a composition notebook, complete with stickers on the front and (as we'll soon see...) drawings and scrawled notes on the inside. "Sam Reads CaPri" is the tag that Lucky Clover uses for her read along notes, and so I used it here just to make it clear this wasn't just the canon work. I used black and silver marbled paper to complete the look of the composition notebook, and more direct-to-film transfers for the "stickers" on the cover. I think it turned out fantastically!

More pics and a LOT of notes under the cut.

So I thought this was a really interesting project because I wanted to use the original work but add to it. I...acquired a PDF of Pet (let me have this one, I bought 2 official english copies of the short stories AND a Polish one I can't even read!) and messed with the margins a bit to make more room for Lucky Clover's notes. Here's what it looks like inside.

This whole thing was done in Libre Office, by the way. I'm sure there's a better program out there that would have done this WAY easier but I didn't want to have to learn how to use Adobe (or pay for it, honestly). But so the little notes are added with textboxes and placed next to their respective quotes, and the quotes themselves are highlighted with highlighters used for bibles, which is apparently a whole subset of office supplies I never knew about! I needed those highlighters specifically because I wanted to have archival color (no idea if regular highlighters are, these are just the only things that came up from a quick search) AND they're really good because they are made not to bleed through really thin bible paper. So on regular paper you can barely see them through the other side at all. They're great! Thanks bible highlighters, I know you thought you would be used for more holy purposes but really there's no better writer than Pacat, so you're in good hands!

So the other problem was that some of the notes were too long to shove into the margins, even after I had made them bigger than normal. That meant post-it notes! Now these aren't actual post-it notes, obviously (I can't imagine how terrible it would be to line those up in the printer) but I used colored printer paper and cut them to size, and it worked out. I used a bit of glue to get them down, and made it so that all of them fold away from the text so that everything is still readable. And then I made some of them poke out the top and sides, because I liked the way it looked.

There are little doodles throughout, some of which I colored in with a highlighter, and I the first word in each section is in a scribbly font, which I thought was funny. All of the notes are likewise in a handwritten font (Amanda Rose) and slightly rotated so that they're not in line with the text.

I also did not trim any of the sides of this textblock, so it's kind of uneven (deckled edges are common on the long side of the textblock, not so much on the top and bottom) but I kind of needed all the space. No endbands in this one either, I wanted to keep it more notebooky and the uneven pages meant it would have been impossible to do anyway. Everything else was bound normally, so aside from the two thousand years it took me to typeset this it was a pretty easy bind.

Oh, and last but not least, the endpapers:

Plain brown butcher paper, in honor of Berenger.

[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)

[lucky-clover-gazette]

kings rising highlights & annotations

chapters 16, 17, 18, & 19

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.

Now those sentries flanked them. They were a permanent independent military garrison, the finest chosen from each of the provinces with scrupulous neutrality to serve a two-year term. They lived in the complex of supporting outbuildings, filling the barracks and the gymnasiums, where they slept and woke and trained with immaculate discipline. It was a soldier’s greatest honour to compete in the yearly games and be chosen from the best to serve here, to uphold the strict laws.

this feels like a parallel to akielion slavery, in a way? these are supposed to be some of the most honorable and strong people in the society, yet they’re subjugated in much the same way as slaves

‘You were jealous.’ ‘My father said that I had to learn to lead, not to follow.’

ongoing “kingdom or this” theme, choosing between being a indomitable ruler and being a vulnerable human person. damen has been on both extremes, a prince and a slave, and he needs to find something in the middle.

‘That’s Kydippe, she was Queen before Euandros. She took the throne from King Treus and averted civil war.’

hooray for women!

‘He looks like you.’ Thestos was carved in outline, holding a giant piece of masonry aloft. Laurent touched his bicep, then touched Damen’s. Damen let out a breath.

laurent is treasuring the last few moments he has with damen :(

‘These petulant remarks have never suited you. The mannerisms of a boy sit so unattractively on a man.’

not going to be a lot of analysis here. we all know how fucked up this guy is. in a way, the regent is the simplest character in the entire series.

‘You know, Nicaise really thought you would help him. He didn’t know your nature, that you’d abandon a boy to treason and death out of petty spite. Or was there some other reason you killed him?’

says the regent, who killed nicaise

'After all, you are an Akielon. There must be satisfaction to be had in getting the Prince of Vere under you. He is unpleasant, but that would barely register when you are rutting.'

“you like it simple” weaponized against damen

“you like it simple” weaponized against damen ‘He has freed Jokaste, because he knows that I would never trade a tactical advantage for a whore.'

there’s that misogyny we heard about

'And he has come here to give himself up for the child. He doesn’t even care whose child it is. He just knows it’s in danger,'

nicaise. just nicaise

‘He has knelt for me.’ The Regent said it in a calm, matter-of-fact voice, so that it didn’t penetrate at first. It was just a collection of words.

“it was just a collection of words” i have a feeling that this is how damen has avoided figuring it out sooner. intentionally not making inferences or connections, even if the words are being said. it’s similar to the way he probably suspected laurent of knowing the truth about him, but disregarded indicative phrases or foreshadowing. but now he has no choice but to understand.

In the panting silence of the hall, one of the kneeling sentries rose and began to speak. ‘You have drawn your sword in the Kingsmeet.’ Damen’s eyes locked on the Regent’s. Nothing mattered but a promise. ‘I’m going to kill you.’ ‘You have broken the peace of the hall.’ Damen said, ‘The moment you laid your hands on him, you were dead.’ ‘The laws of the Kingsmeet are sacred.’ Damen said, ‘I will be the last thing that you see. You will go to the ground with my blade in your flesh.’ ‘Your life is forfeit to the King,’ said the sentry.

really good writing here. love how it alternates between damen’s single-minded anger and the situation around him, using only the dialogue instead of environmental or emotional prose

Unlike Damen, it had only taken one of the Kingsmeet soldiers to restrain Laurent, his arms forced behind his back, his breathing shallow.

“the weaker man”

‘No,’ said Damen. ‘You heard what he did.’ Roughened, it came out of him. ‘You all heard him, are you going to let him do this?’

i think it’s really interesting and ironic that the people enabling this are supposedly the most honorable in the country. damen has given vere so much shit for its debauchery throughout the series and has regarded akielos as morally pure because it “treats its slaves well.” he’s figured out that he was wrong about most of this already, but this might put the final nail in the coffin. the worst thing imaginable, to the point that damen actively avoided entertaining the notion of it, is not condemned by the akielon justice system. the law protects the regent and punishes damen here, even though the regent is a terrible person and damen is doing the right thing. also cool how this foreshadows attorney damen.

‘Come, nephew,’ said the Regent. They went.

don’t need to analyze laurent here. i’ve already done it in chapters that foreshadow this moment. just going to quarantine it to the page and move on

‘I know you felt something for him. If you are going to be sick, do it quickly. We have to go. There will already be men coming to find us.’

shut the fuck up nikandros

Through the haze he heard Jord’s voice. ‘You left him? You saved your own life and left him with his uncle?’

shut the fuck up jord

Jord said, ‘You coward, you left him to—’ The words were abruptly cut off as Nikandros took hold of Jord and slammed him back against the wagon. ‘You will not speak that way to our King.’

shut the fuck up nikandros and jord

Released, Jord was panting slightly. ‘He wouldn’t have come back alone. If you think that, you don’t know him.’

damen never said that he did

What would Laurent do? He knew what Laurent would do. Stupid, mad Laurent had sacrificed himself. He had used the last piece of leverage he had: his own life. But Damen’s life was valueless to the Regent.

and laurent’s life is valueless to laurent. but clearly not to jord or damen or paschal or loyse or the soldiers or victims whose lives he has protected

He felt the limits of his own nature, which too easily swung to anger, and the need—stymied by circumstance—to bring about the Regent’s death. All he wanted was to take up his sword and cut a path into Ios.

he likes it simple. this isn’t simple. so what’s the opposite of simple, then? what would laurent do? what is the approach that ISN’T just ripping the grate out of the wall? guess we're about to see.

‘He thinks he’s alone,’ he said.

for a long time, yeah. until he got stuck with you. which he hated at first, because he felt an irrepressible connection to his worst enemy (the mutual moral arbitration and “yes and”ing of books 1 & 2), but ended up treasuring your connection so deeply that he made himself alone again to save you.

It was what he liked, public humiliation coupled with private chastisement, his reality validated by all those around him.

1) parallel to kastor sending damen to be a slave 2) akielion slavery except it’s seen as honorable which is somehow even more humiliating than forced submission, and there’s nothing to chastise bc they’re groomed to not have opinions. but spot on with “reality validated by all those around him”—the strong over the weak, as a sign of status and power. it’s all the same.

‘You’re right, I can’t fight my way in.’ From the beginning he had been a tool, a weapon to be used against Laurent. The Regent had used him to hurt, to unsettle, to shake Laurent’s control; and finally, to destroy him. ‘I know what I have to do,’ he said.

damen is going to play this veretian game of mock trial and win

He expected to be challenged at the outer gates by soldiers warned and wary, on the lookout for him. But perhaps they were on the lookout for Damianos, the arrogant young King at the head of his army, not a single man in an old worn cloak, a hood that came down over his face, and sleeves to hide his arms. No one stopped him.

this entire thing is a long-awaited subversion of damen to be more like laurent. all the things he hated about laurent, claimed not to understand in previous books, he’s now embodying in this plan, because he understands laurent and why he’s developed these mechanisms in the first place. and he can finally see how coming at issues with this sort of deceptive, restrained, and calculated approach can be extremely effective, especially when everyone—including laurent—expects the opposite from him.

laurent, despite everything, does not expect damen to be able to solve this problem. he can’t just throw a sword at it or rip it out of a wall. damen likes it simple. but what laurent doesn’t understand is that damen loves laurent more than he likes it simple, and that means he’s willing to endure complication in order to protect him. something that laurent has gotten very good at doing for others, but wishes for no one to return. it’s a good thing, then, that damen has never done the things laurent has wished for him to do.

And when he turned the first corner, he saw the palace as everyone saw it: disorientingly, from the outside. There, small as specks, were the high open windows and long marble balconies that invited the sea air in during the evening to cool the baking stone. To the east was the long, columned hall and airy upper quarters. To the north, the King’s quarters, and the high-walled gardens, with their shallow steps and winding paths and the myrtle trees planted for his mother. Memory was sudden; long days training on the sawdust, evenings in the hall, his father presiding from the throne, himself walking those marble halls with surety and unconcern, an unreal former self, who spent evenings in the great hall laughing with friends, being served as he wished by slaves.

he is finally approaching his home as a man and not a king, and understanding how the privilege he’s always felt was an entitlement resting on the backs of people subjugated to maintain it

A yapping dog cut across his path. A woman with a parcel under her arm jostled him, then shouted at him in southern dialect to watch where he was going.

dogs don’t care that you’re the prince. an oblivious random person running an errand doesn’t care that you’re the prince. no wonder laurent mainly has gotten along with animals and oblivious random people in these books. both damen and laurent have been held captive by their own roles as people in power, and they can free each other by unifying the kingdoms and changing what being a person in power MEANS.

He kept walking. He passed the outer homes, with their small windows of differently sized rectangles and squares. He passed the outer storehouses, the granaries, a stone revolving on a millbase, pushed by oxen. He passed the shouts of a dozen market stalls that were all selling fish, pulled from the ocean in the pre-dawn. He passed the traitor’s walk, thick with flies. He scanned the tops of the spikes, but the dead were all dark-haired. A burst of a cavalcade came trotting out on horses. He stepped to the side; they trotted past him, red-cloaked and regimented, without a second glance. It was all uphill in the city, because the palace was built on the peak, with the sea at its back. He realised as he walked that he had never done this on foot before. When he reached the palace square, a feeling of disorientation came over him again, because he only knew the square from the opposite angle: as a view from the white balcony, where his father used to emerge sometimes to raise a hand and address the crowd.

after a lifetime of limiting his own perspective to maintain systems of power and his illusion of personal peace, damen finally watches the road. and the palace—literally held above the rest of akielos to be his home as rightful king—doesn’t feel like home anymore.

‘Halt,’ said the guard. ‘State your business, traveller.’ He waited, until he had the eyes of everyone near the gate on him, then he let the hood of his cloak fall back. He heard the shocked murmurs, the outbreak of sound as he spoke, his words, clear and unmistakable. ‘I am Damianos of Akielos, and I surrender to my brother.’

starting out the laurentian problem solving speedrun by literally doing what laurent did with the regent (kastor is thematically damen’s regent). honestly genius, both on damen’s part and pacat’s.

If it worked, if he was in time—how long could a trial last? How long could Laurent stall for time?

damen assuming that laurent would even bother to stall… i don’t think that’s how laurent works, given his internal narrative during the torture scene. in that scene, he persisted because he knew that the survival and victory of people he cared about hinged on his survival. in this scene, laurent believes that the survival and victory of people he cares about hinges on his death, so it’s pointless to put up a fight. (“objection!” says damen)

He needed them to take him into the hall to face Kastor. He had given up his freedom for that single chance, gambling everything.

kastor, who had made damen a slave in the first place. damen understands the exact kind of cruelty kastor is capable of, his overwhelming desire to make himself the stronger man over damen. he finally accepts that this cruelty and victimhood exist because he saw it in the regent and laurent. even if he’s unwilling to admit it about kastor and himself, he knows. and that’s why he came up with this plan in the first place.

He sat under guard on one of the low seats and didn’t scream in frustration, as time passed, and then more time.

classic damen understatement <3

One was an officer. Another carried irons. He stopped dead when he saw Damen. ‘Cuff him,’ said the officer.

buddy i think there’s one in the way

The soldier holding the irons didn’t move, his wide eyes staring at Damen. ‘Do it,’ came the order. ‘Do it, soldier,’ said Damen.

this is a big moment, i think, relating to the “honor in submission” theme. the intentional appearance of submission in order for damen to reclaim his power. i said this maaaany annotations ago, but damen and laurent’s experiences with trauma in these books are on different timelines. laurent is nursing years of trauma, and knows how to use the appearance of his victimhood to his own advantage. but damen’s trauma is extremely fresh, and thus far he’s only been able to deny it, become disoriented by it, or lose himself in it. but now, almost like an echo of a younger laurent biding his time and committing to the bit in the regent’s court, damen is figuring out how to let his trauma work for HIM.

This was a complex political proposition for the soldiers.

i guess they like it simple (i'm never letting that line go)

The first person to recognise him was a household official carrying a vase which smashed, dropping from his hands.

okay, dramatic.

A slave, caught in a crisis of etiquette, fell half to his knees and then stopped, agonisingly uncertain whether he should complete his prostration.

i adore this subtle moment of a slave seeing royalty in a position like theirs and reconsidering whether they actually need to kneel in the first place

And there wasn’t one throne on the dais, there were two. Kastor and the Regent sat side by side, presiding over the hall.

wrong unification!

It was strange—he had waited for so long to face Kastor, and now he found him simply extraneous. The Regent was the sole intrusion, the sole threat. Kastor looked satisfied. He didn’t see the danger. He didn’t understand what he had let into Akielos.

of course, damen still can’t Notice everything quite yet. but he’ll get it eventually

Alive, alive, Laurent was alive. Damen’s heart leapt, and for a moment he just stood and drank the sight in, giddy with relief.

how far we’ve come :’)

He was still wearing the short Akielon chiton that he had worn to the Kingsmeet, but it was dirty and ripped. Skimpy and showing the signs of rough wear, it was a humiliating garment for him to stand in before the Council.

obvious, but this is a foil to his veretian clothing which signified confidence and invulnerability

Like Damen, he had his hands chained behind his back.

are they both double-cuffed on one wrist

The physical act of standing for hours in irons must be taking its toll, the sheer ache of muscle exhaustion, the rough treatment, and the examination itself, the Regent’s questions, and Laurent’s steady, determined answers.

i think damen’s projecting here. when he was in this position, he had given steady determined answers. he had experienced and withstood exhaustion rough treatment and examination. the sympathy he feels towards laurent at this moment is really sympathy he hasn’t been able to fully give himself, because he has always been unable and unwilling to truly accept himself as a victim.

But he wore the clothes and the chains with disregard, his posture, as ever, coolly untouchable. His expression could not be read, except for, if you knew him, the courage that he sustained though he was alone, and tired, and without friends, and he must know that it was close to the end.

but this is how laurent differs from how damen perceives himself, in this position. laurent’s pride means nothing to him, as long as his submission means that the people he cares for are saved. damen’s pride means everything to him, and i think even now he’d say so. but the thing is, that we saw how damen was just as willing to lower himself to protect the akielion slaves in book 1. damen is so fascinating as a narrator because he does not understand himself at all, but we as the reader can understand him perfectly based on the things he chooses to acknowledge or ignore. frustrating to read at times, but the exact narrator this series needs. these books would not work nearly as well with laurent as full-time narrator.

It was clear from the open look of horrified recognition on Laurent’s face that he had not expected Damen—that he had not expected anyone.

laurent’s not stalling, the regent is dragging this out to torture him

On the dais, Kastor made a small gesture to the Regent, as if to say, You see? I have had him brought for you.

the only thing kastor can actually get credit for doing independently in this entire series was making damen a slave and sending him to vere, and i’m pretty sure that was jokaste’s idea in the first place

(edit from future sam: i know he also killed the king. it comes up later)

‘No,’ said Laurent, swinging his gaze back to his uncle. ‘You promised.’

laurent immediately assumes that the regent somehow made this happen, rather than damen doing it of his own free will. ow.

‘This is Damianos of Akielos. He was captured at the gates this morning. He’s the man responsible for the death of King Theomedes, and for my nephew’s treason. He is my nephew’s lover.’

of course the regent (and kastor) took advantage of damen’s “weakness” and spun it to make themselves look powerful, which puts damen in the perfect place to turn the tables. damen didn’t even really intend for this to happen, consciously i think he surrendered out of desperation more than any rational plan, but SUBconsciously this was literally the perfect move. and we’re about to see damen slowly realize this, and pick up steam as he figures out exactly how he can leverage and subvert this perceived weakness to get what he wants. just like laurent!!!

He had not been brought here to face Kastor or to answer for their father’s death. He had been brought here as a final piece of evidence in Laurent’s trial.

the first time the regent used a captive damen against laurent, damen refused to play along. this was an unexpected response by both the regent and laurent, and it bought d&l necessary time to become stronger in each other’s company.

now, the regent is once again using a captive damen against laurent. but this time, damen decides to play the game too. his willing cooperation in the trial the regent has created is within itself unexpected defiance, and that’s why we love damianos of akielos both as a person and as a really fucking well-written character. he has grown and changed in so many satisfying ways throughout the series, but the defining strengths of his character—willful and defiant integrity—have always been consistent. “i speak your language better than you speak mine, sweetheart.” = “i’ll cooperate in the trial you’ve rigged to your own advantage, and i’ll win.”

Mathe gestured to Damen. ‘Now we see the proof of all these claims. Damianos, the prince-killer, is here, giving the lie to all the Prince has been saying—proving once and for all that they are in league. Our Prince lies in the depraved embrace of his brother’s killer.’

sounds like mathe didn’t put in the effort and/or critical thinking to properly understand the captive prince series by cs pacat

He was suddenly an exhibit, a kind of proof none of them had imagined: Damianos of Akielos, captured and bound.

full circle babyyyy

‘Nephew, Damianos is restrained. You can speak honestly. You are safe from harm.’ Laurent weathered the slow, caring touch, as the Regent said, gently, ‘Is there some explanation? Perhaps you were not willing? Perhaps he forced you?’ Laurent’s eyes met his uncle’s. Laurent’s chest rose and fell shallowly under the thin white fabric of the chiton. ‘He didn’t force me,’ said Laurent. ‘I lay with him because I wanted to.’

BIG LAURENT MOMENT!!!! “i am not a victim! i did this by choice because i wanted to do it, and i will not lie even if the truth makes me look weak!”

we can see exactly how damen has influenced laurent in this moment. there is no strategic advantage to being honest or blunt here. in fact it invites the very things laurent fears—perceived weakness, shame, uncertainty. the regent is giving him a chance to perhaps save himself, by blaming damen and seeing him punished instead—an option laurent did not think was previously available to him. but laurent does not consider this for a second, and instead does the exact opposite of what his uncle truly wants and expects him to do: he KEEPS IT SIMPLE. laurent cooperates with the image the regent is creating of him, and both we and laurent know that IS defiance. because for maybe the first time ever, laurent knows without a doubt that the image the regent portrays of him isn’t fucking true. he knows that with damen, unlike the regent, he wasn’t a victim. he was willing, he was not forced, and unlike his early stunts in vere, he is not allowing the implication that damen assaulted him to stand. he isn’t hiding or lying or restraining himself. he's not using the way people perceive him as weak to his advantage. laurent has committed to many bits in his life, and when convenient those bits have been some complicated semblance of reality. but this is the first time that laurent simply commits to the TRUTH.

(i love this scene so much. it’s all synthesized so well. it’s a perfect demonstration of how damen and laurent have have changed themselves and each other for the better. i have complaints about this book more than the others, but the trial is fantastic.)

Damen could feel it: in a day’s worth of questioning, this was the first admission.

THAT’S WHAT I JUST SAID!!

‘You don’t have to lie for him, Laurent,’ said the Regent. ‘You can tell the truth.’

even if laurent doesn’t know it yet, he isn’t just doing this for damen—he’s doing it for himself!

‘I don’t lie. We lay together,’ said Laurent, ‘at my behest. I ordered him to my bed. Damianos is innocent of all the charges brought against me. He suffered my company only under force. He is a good man, who has never acted against his own country.’

the self loathing runs deep but still this is a laurent w!!!! the truth is that he hates himself, but at least he’s owning it, and specifying that his self-hatred has fuckall to do with the dumb bullshit the regent is accusing him of. all while being a better version of himself, defending damen in a situation where he had perviously maligned him, which he would not have grown enough to do without damen’s company!!!

‘And what am I accused of? That I have lain with Laurent of Vere?’ Damen’s eyes raked the Council. ‘I have. I found him honest and true. He stands before you wrongly accused. And if this is a fair trial, you will hear me.’

perfect. he knows it isn’t a fair trial, just as he knew it wasn’t fair for him to be punished instead of the regent at the kings meet, just as he now understands that the slavery system in akielos is neither fair nor just. the “good vs nice” theme has finished marinating, and now damen is using the false niceties of his society to do good, basically calling the regent and kastor’s bluff. “IF this is a fair trial, you will hear me.” = “in order for you to maintain the power you’ve been given by the system, you will have to let me to use the system to challenge your power”

‘You will hear me,’ said Damen. ‘You will hear me, and if when you have heard me you still find him guilty, then I will meet my fate alongside him. Or does the Council fear the truth?’

this is his true calling. let’s be so fucking real. i’ve never even jokingly called damen a himbo for a reason, and that reason is that he’s extremely good at thinking critically and constructing compelling arguments if he just lets himself acknowledge reality.

The Regent said, ‘By all means, speak.’ It was a challenge. To have Laurent’s lover in his power pleased the Regent, as a demonstration of his larger power. Damen could feel that. The Regent wanted Damen to entangle himself, wanted a victory over Laurent that was total. Damen drew in a breath. He knew the stakes. He knew that if he failed, he would die alongside Laurent, and the Regent would rule in Vere and in Akielos. He would have given over his life and his kingdom. He looked around at the columned hall. It was his home, his birthright, and his legacy, more precious to him than anything. And Laurent had given him the means to secure it. At the Kingsmeet he could have left Laurent to his fate and ridden back to Karthas and his army. He was undefeated on the field, and not even the Regent would have been able to stand against him. Even now, all he had to do was denounce Laurent and he could face Kastor with a real chance of taking back his throne.

every time damen has had a moment like this, his integrity and honor have prevailed. even when he HATED laurent and would have benefited directly from his assassination, he had intervened because he thought it was a dishonorable attempt on laurent’s life. and then he’d left against his own instincts, because he did not respect or know laurent and laurent did not respect or know him. in book 2 he had many moments like this, and had all but admitted to himself that he was not willing or able to take them. even when they were divorced in the first part of this book, when laurent was actively antagonizing him out of spite, damen never let nikandros or anyone else intervene.

now, after everything they’ve been though? this isn’t even a fucking question. if it’s damen we’re talking about, when it really comes down to this question, it never really has been.

But he had asked himself the question in Ravenel, and now he knew the answer. A kingdom, or this.

committing to the bit, once and for all.

‘I met the Prince in Vere. I thought as you did. I didn’t know his heart.’ It was Laurent who said, ‘No.’ ‘I came to learn it slowly.’ ‘Damen, don’t do this.’ ‘I came to learn his honesty, his integrity, his strength of mind.’ ‘Damen—’ Of course Laurent wanted everything done his own way. But today it was going to be different.

their conflict is their love!!!!!!!! they challenge each other to be better, and the world becomes a better place because of it!!!!!!!!

‘I was a fool, blinded by prejudice. I didn’t understand that he was fighting alone, that he had been fighting alone for a very long time. ‘And then I saw the men he commanded, disciplined and loyal. I saw the way his household loved him, because he knew their concerns, cared for their lives. I saw him protect slaves. ‘And when I left him, drugged and without friends after an attack on his life, I saw him stand up in front of his uncle and argue to save my life because he felt he owed me a debt. ‘He knew that it might cost him his life. He knew he’d be sent to the border, to ride into the very same plot to kill him. And he still argued for me. He did it because it was owed, because in the very private code with which he ran his life, it was right.’ He looked at Laurent, and he understood now what he had not understood then: that Laurent had known who he was that night.

you should try re-reading the series damen, it’s craaaaaazy when you know the twist

Laurent had known who he was and had still protected him, out of a sense of fairness that had somehow survived what had happened to him.

damen and laurent have different traumas, but this description applies to both of them perfectly. from the moment they met each other, they were no longer suffering alone. even if they hated that fact sooooo bad.

‘That is the man you face. He has more honour and integrity than any man I have ever met. He is dedicated to his people and his country. And I am proud to have been his lover.’

Damen said it with his eyes on Laurent, willing him to know how much he meant it, and for a moment Laurent just gazed back at him, his eyes blue and wide.

just had to get a “he gazed” in there. wouldn’t be lamen without it

The Regent’s voice interrupted. ‘A heartfelt declaration is not evidence. I am afraid to say that there is nothing here to change the Council’s decision. You offered no proof, only accusations of an unlikely plot against Laurent, with no hint as to who the architect of it might be.’ ‘You are the architect,’ said Damen, lifting his eyes to the Regent, ‘and I do have proof.’

LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOO!!!!!

‘I call Guion of Fortaine to speak.’

obsessed with how damen just immediately launched into defense attorney mode. did he do like mock trial as a teenager.

‘Very well,’ the Regent said, leaning back in his seat and gesturing to the Council. Then they had to wait, while runners were sent to the place on the outskirts of the city where Damen had told his men to camp. The Councillors got to sit down, and so did the Regent and Kastor. Lucky them.

oh that “lucky them” is so telling. damen is PISSED. we know this because he’s usually the king of understatement and underreaction in his narration, but is being salty about this minor inconvenience. imagine how he’s going to be with the the regent, if inconvenience gets such a reaction

Not only Guion, but all the members of Damen’s party: Guion’s wife, Loyse, looking white-faced, the physician Paschal, Nikandros and his men, even Jord and Lazar. It meant something to Damen that he had given each of them the option to leave, and they had chosen to stay with him. He knew what they risked. Their loyalty touched him.

except you, guion.

He knew that Laurent didn’t like it. Laurent wanted to do everything alone. But it wasn’t going to be like that.

lamen truly is the love story for me. it’s not enough for a romantic interest to be like “you’re not alone uwu <3” with such gentle softness that their partner finally believes it. it’s gotta be like “i’m not going to let you believe that you’re alone just so you can reinforce your own self-protective/destructive trauma responses. you’re loved, i brought receipts, deal with it” to truly hit

(which is interesting, esp with the series’s themes of coercion and free will! in a lot of ways it is a relief for someone to ignore your protests and boundaries, when they truly do mean well and want to help you and know what’s good for you. it’s just that most people who are forceful and coercive don’t have those intentions, or don’t actually know what they’re talking about. but this is a rare but earned moment where we know that damen is right, that laurent’s beliefs about himself should be challenged, and that they both will be better for it. they’ve always challenged each other in many ways, and throughout the series they’ve been making their way to being truly balanced in terms of power dynamics. laurent knew that damen had killed his brother the whole time he was antagonizing damen, but they still weren’t on even footing. damen eventually learned the truth about laurent’s awareness of his identity, but they still weren’t on even footing until they actually dealt with the baggage involved. in that one sex scene where damen took total control, i commented on how it felt like laurent wasn’t really letting himself be present, and damen lost himself in something that wasn’t there. but then in the following sex scene, laurent made SURE to be present. it's always been slightly uneven with them, up to the point where laurent freed jokaste and gave himself up to the regent. he's always had a lie of some kind to hide himself behind, to isolate himself with. but not now. he's not alone, and damen is not going to let laurent tell himself that he is. damen pushes past laurent's boundaries and within this narrative it's a good thing, and that is a huge part of the fantasy of captive prince and lamen's relationship. because we know that damen truly loves and cares for laurent and is doing this for his sake, and the core of their relationship is willingly challenging each other and allowing themselves to be challenged.)

Mathe resumed his role as questioner as the spectators craned their necks, disliking the columns because they obstructed the view.

‘Laurent of Vere is guilty of every charge brought against him,’ said Guion.

raise your hand if you’re surprised. nobody but damen should have a hand raised rn

‘You swore to tell the truth,’ said Damen. No one was listening to him.

two steps forward one step back with damen thinking the best of people who don’t deserve it. although i guess that’s what made lamen possible, because most people would not have reconsidered laurent after the shit he pulled in book 1. i say again, this series would not work with a non-damen protagonist

‘He tried to coerce me to lie for him. He threatened to kill me. He threatened to kill my wife. He threatened to kill my sons. He slaughtered his own people at Ravenel. I would vote him guilty myself, if I were still a member of the Council.’

guion you got your son killed, after inviting the regent to [redacted] him. sit down.

It had a symbolic power, the six of them standing on one side of the hall, and Laurent—in his thin, tattered Akielon clothing held in the grip of his uncle’s soldiers—on the other. Laurent spoke. ‘No final advice? No uncle’s kiss of affection?’ ‘You had so much promise, Laurent,’ said the Regent. ‘I regret what you became more than you do.’ ‘You mean that I’m on your conscience?’ said Laurent. ‘It hurts me,’ said the Regent, ‘that you feel such animosity towards me, even now. That you tried to undermine me with accusations, when I have only ever wanted the best for you.’ He spoke in a saddened voice. ‘You should have known better than to bring Guion to testify against me.’ Laurent met the Regent’s eyes, standing alone before the Council. ‘But uncle,’ said Laurent, ‘Guion isn’t who I brought.’

it’s like we’re in book 1 again. ahem. laurent: have you had your fun? don’t you want to taunt me one more time? regent: you already hate yourself more than i ever could. if you had just submitted to me, things would be better for us both. laurent: you’re the reason i hate myself. you did this to me. regent: if you understand the power i have over you, you really should have known better than to fight against me alone. laurent: i’m not fighting alone.

as always, i don’t remember exactly how much of this has been intentional on laurent’s part. had he counted on damen bringing loyse? i don’t think so, right? he really had meant to die, but now that the game has changed (damen is here, he’s brought the squad) laurent is back to planning, and has been since the moment their involvement was accepted. he even had time to think it through, which is like the most dangerous resource to give laurent!

‘He brought me,’ said Guion’s wife Loyse, stepping forward.

fucking GENIUS on cs pacat’s part. i wrote a long post months ago about women in capri, but like the gist of it was that there are normal rational compassionate people, women and otherwise, in this world, but we just haven’t gotten to be around them. because most of the people in power, and therefore the ones featured most prominently, are corrupt out-of-touch assholes. and the members of this series’s cast who don’t fall under this description exist to supplement damen and laurent’s insane dynamic. so it is genius to pull in this seemingly insignificant grieving woman whose motivations and emotions are simple, raw, understandable, and thematically linked to laurent and damen’s experiences with the regent as the person who ultimate seals the textually misogynistic regent’s fate. it’s not just about gender, or even primarily about gender—it’s about empowering the disempowered.

‘I have something to say. It’s about my husband, and this man, the Regent, who has brought my family into ruin, and who ended the life of my youngest son, Aimeric.’

YES.

‘Loyse, what are you doing?’ said Guion, as all of the hall’s attention riveted on Loyse. She paid him no attention, but continued to walk forward until she stood alongside Damen, addressing her words to the Counci

YEESSSSSS!

‘In the year after Marlas, the Regent visited my family in Fortaine,’ said Loyse. ‘And my husband, who is ambitious, gave him leave to enter the bedroom of our youngest son.’

the amount of contempt in “my husband, who is ambitious”…

Guion was looking from Loyse to the Council, and he gave a laugh, braying and too loud. ‘You can’t be giving credence to any of this.’

a foil to damen and laurent in this setting. immediately dismissing the testimony of his partner in favor of his own pride and status. stay classy, guion

No one answered, the silence uncomfortable. Councillor Chelaut’s gaze shifted for a moment to the young boy sitting beside the Regent, his fingers sticky with powdered sugar from the sweetmeats.

the poetic irony of this normalized part of the regent’s court turning the court against him when viewed in a new light, or just called out at all, especially by a woman whose son he abused!!!

‘I know that no one here cares about Aimeric,’ said Loyse. ‘No one cares that he killed himself at Ravenel because he couldn’t live with what he had done.'

parallel to damen defending laurent, except she does think he was alone. which is so deeply sad, and pretty much true.

‘So let me tell you instead about what Aimeric died for—a plot between the Regent and Kastor to kill King Theomedes and then to take his country.’

the truth is terrible, but it also empowers loyse to enact change. things can’t be better until we see them for what they really are. i’d say that’s a major series theme when it comes to relationships and politics.

‘These are lies,’ Kastor said in Akielon, and then he said it again in thickly accented Veretian. ‘Arrest her.’

seems like damen speaks better veretian than kastor, if kastor’s is deeply accented. kastor stays losing!

It was plain from Kastor’s face that he had realised for the first time that he was not in control of the hall.

shifts of power truly are the powerhouse of the captive prince series. both in a narrative way and a horny way

‘Arrest me, but not before you’ve seen the proof.’ Loyse was pulling a ring on a chain from her gown; it was a signet ring, ruby or garnet, and on it was the royal crest of Vere. ‘My husband brokered the deal. Kastor assassinated his own father in exchange for the Veretian troops you see here today. The troops he needed to take Ios.’

i’m going to be so real, it’s been months since i read prince’s gambit, but i’m pretty sure the signet ring was foreshadowed. which… holy shit. laurent hadn’t expected all the damen stuff to happen, but i’m pretty sure he had been priming this piece of ammo against the regent the entire time. he’d just thought that he’d lost the opportunity to use it when giving himself up, or had given up sooner than that. or had he only learned this from loyse after aimeric’s death?? idk maybe the book will tell me now. i hope it does bc i do not feel like digging back for foreshadowing i’ve been doing this for hours

wait no FUCK the ring was for nikandros!!! right???? yes it has to be. it couldn’t have been both things at once, and loyse telling laurent only makes sense after aimeric’s death. so yes the signet was foreshadowed, but it was a different use of it. although i guess the existence of a signet ring holding significance was foreshadowed partially so it would work again here.

‘She’s not a traitor. She’s just confused. She’s been deceived, and coached, she’s been upset since Aimeric died. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. She’s being manipulated by these people.’

“she doesn’t know what she’s doing. she’s being forced. she’s a victim, because we’ve made her a victim.” FUCK NO!!! we’re not doing that anymore!!!!

Herode and Chelaut wore expressions of repressed distaste, even revulsion. Damen saw suddenly that the obscene youth of the Regent’s lovers had always been repellent to these men, and the idea that the son of a councillor had been used in this way was disturbing to them beyond measure.

could have been way more disturbing way sooner, but better late than never ig

But they were political men, and the Regent was their master.

POWER SHIFTS! POWER RESTING ON THE SUBJUGATED CAN BE TOPPLED AT ITS FOUNDATIONS!

He was right, Damen realised. Laurent hadn’t brought Loyse to clear his own name, but to clear Damen’s. There was no proof that would clear Laurent’s name. The Regent had been too thorough. The palace assassins were dead. The assassins from the road were dead. Even Govart was dead, cursing boy pets and physicians.

maybe. just maybe. you both are good and both deserve to be happy. at the same time. your names can both be cleared. we are so close.

“boy pets and physicians” ironically the two things that end up getting the regent convicted

They were connected in some way. He was suddenly sure of it. Whatever Govart had known, Nicaise had known it too, and the Regent had killed him for it. And that meant— Damen was pushing himself up abruptly.

i LOVE how damen pieces this together. it wasn’t a laurent machination, the laurent machination had been to save damen alone. but damen said “no, laurent needs to be saved too.” and figures out a convoluted thing that even laurent hadn’t clocked, which just happens to involve nicaise, who deserved better, just like laurent deserves better, just like everyone under the regent’s power deserves better, except guion.

‘No,’ said Paschal. ‘He died because of this.’ He took from the folds of his clothes a bundle of papers, tied with string.

does he always just like carry that around?? i guess it makes sense if it’s like dangerously sensitive information, and also from his dead brother

‘The last words of my brother, the archer Langren, carried by the soldier called Govart, and stolen by the Regent’s pet, Nicaise, who was killed for it. This is the testimony of the dead.’

okay yeah he kept it on him bc it got stolen once and the person who stole it got killed about it. that tracks. also tracks why he hadn’t spoken up sooner.

‘I am Paschal, a palace physician. And I have a story to tell about Marlas.'

LOVE how it’s marlas

‘Diplomacy failed. The talks fell through. Theomedes wanted land, not peace. He sent away the Veretian emissaries without hearing them.'

not surprised

For the first time, he wondered what had happened behind Veretian lines to cause it. He thought of a King convinced it was the best way of protecting his people.

love this subtle damen character development moment

‘Instead, Veretians fell. I was nearby when the word came that Auguste was dead. In grief, the King pulled off his helm. He was careless. I think in his mind, he had no reason left to be careful.’

so the regent was the reason both auguste and the king died. they went out there on bad advice because they were desperate to protect their people. and damen thought they were cowards, and believed that his killing of auguste was honorable and fair.

damn.

He began to untie the string, drawing it away and opening the papers. They were covered in writing. ‘Nicaise gave it to me for safekeeping. He had stolen it from Govart, and he was scared. I opened it, never expecting what I would find. In fact, the letter was to me, though Nicaise didn’t know it. It was a confession, in my brother’s handwriting.’

i’m glad that nicaise has a part in this, even if he isn’t here to see it.

And then Damen looked at Laurent. Laurent’s face was completely devoid of colour. It was not an idea that Laurent had entertained before, that much was clear. Laurent had his own blind spot when it came to his uncle. I didn’t think he’d really try to kill me. After everything . . . even after everything.

just like his father and brother—a bleeding heart. but that gives him power, just as much as it makes him vulnerable. all of the people rallying around him, dead and alive, are proof of that.

Damen thought of his father struggling to breathe in his sickbed

it’s so funny to know that yet another Thing kastor did was someone else’s idea first. come on, dude.

‘You can’t believe this? The lies of a physician and a boy whore?’ Guion’s voice was jarring in the silence. Damen looked to the Council, where the oldest of the Councillors, Herode, was looking up from the papers. ‘Nicaise had more nobility in him than you,’ said Herode. ‘He was more loyal to the Crown than the Council, in the end.’

‘The Council has been deceived into treason,’ said the Regent, calmly. ‘Take them.’ There was a pause, in which his order ought to have been followed, but wasn’t. The Regent turned. The hall was thick with his soldiers, the Regent’s Guard, trained to his orders, and brought here to do his bidding. None of them moved. In the strange silence, a soldier stepped forward. ‘You’re not my King,’ he said. Pulling the Regent’s insignia from his shoulder, he dropped it at the Regent’s feet.

this is the most devastating defeat possible for the regent. for reasons i think i’ve already explained.

Then he crossed the hall as the Council had done, to stand beside Laurent.

okay actually THIS is the most devastating defeat for the regent. lol

His movement was the first drop that became a trickle, then a flow, as another soldier pulled his insignia from his shoulder and crossed, and another, and another, until the hall was loud with the sound of armoured feet, the hail of badges hitting the ground. Like the tide drawing away from a rock, the Veretians crossed the hall, until the Regent stood alone. And Laurent stood facing him, with an army at his back.

‘Herode,’ said the Regent. ‘This is the boy who has shirked his duties, who has never worked for anything in his life, who is in every way unfit to rule the country.’ Herode said, ‘He is our King.’ ‘He’s not a king. He’s no more than a—’ ‘You’ve lost.’ Laurent’s calm words cut across his uncle’s. He stood free. His uncle’s soldiers had released him, striking the irons from his wrists. Across from him, the Regent stood exposed, a middle-aged man used to commanding public spectacle, now with it turned against him.

He took the black square of cloth from the slave who had carried it, and placed it over the head of the sceptre. ‘This is absurd,’ said the Regent.

“from the slave who had carried it”

‘You think you can defy me?’ the Regent said to Laurent. ‘You think you can rule Vere? You?’ Laurent said, ‘I’m not a boy anymore.’

And he saw that Laurent understood, that Laurent knew, somehow, about the scrap of paper that Damen had found that morning in the empty wagon in their camp, its door standing open. That he had carried it in careful fingers on the long walk to the city. The child was never yours, but he is safe. In another life, he would have been a king.   I remember the way you looked at me, the day we met. Perhaps that, too, in another life.   Jokaste

okay uh sure. cool. wasn’t really worried about that with everything else going on but good to know i guess. anyway

(i'm still murky on how much of this laurent had anticipated, vs what damen thinks laurent anticipated because damen thinks laurent knows everything, vs what neither of them anticipated. it's fine.)

‘What’s happening?’ said a young voice. Damen turned. The eleven-year-old boy who had been sitting beside the Regent’s throne had pushed up out of his chair and was staring, confusion in his wide brown eyes. ‘What’s happening? You said we’d go riding after. I don’t understand.’ He was trying now to go to the soldiers who were holding the Regent down. ‘Stop it, you’re hurting him. You’re hurting him. Let him go.’ A soldier was holding him back, and the boy was fighting him.

fuuuuuuuck. breaking the cycle, but still. breaking.

Laurent looked at the boy, and in his eyes was the knowledge that some things couldn’t be fixed.

nicaise. closure, self-forgiveness, grief as fuel for a better future. sad and real and finished.

He said, ‘Get that boy out of here.’

the most merciful thing laurent could do: protect the boy from seeing this

It was a single clean stroke. Laurent’s face didn’t change.

interesting to compare this to nicaise’s beheading. “damen saw laurent react, then make himself not react.”

i find this to be a very satisfying way for the regent to die: killed by a coalition of the people he had crushed on his way to power, by the same means he had used to kill nicaise. and for once, laurent did not have to get his own hands dirty to see justice done.

‘Put his body on the gates. Fly my flag on the walls. Let all my people know of my ascension.’ He lifted his eyes, and met Damen’s gaze across the length of the hall. ‘And unchain the King of Akielos.’

sounds like the kings have risinged

‘You came,’ said Laurent. ‘You knew I would,’ said Damen.

... but did he, though? maybe he thought you'd come to defeat kastor, but i don't think laurent thought he (laurent) was going to survive this.

‘If you need an army to take your capital,’ said Laurent, ‘I seem to have one.’

yeah laurent does not agree. damen you’re still maybe a little off the mark here, but that’s okay, it’s good to encourage laurent to value himself and trust in his community. i just hope that your idealistic misjudgments of character don’t end up getting you stabbed in the next chapter when you expect your murderous brother to act honorably

Even men fighting for their lives could not overcome a lifetime of observance and directly strike against their Prince. He had a clear path.

i really like how this chapter is placed after the very optimistic and empowering trial sequence. because there is still so much cynicism to the monarchy, to these systems of power, to people like kastor who don’t take chances that are given to them, and those things can still cause harm. they can especially endanger people like damen, whose greatest strength and weakness is his stubborn determination to live in a world that is good. and where laurent benefitted from learning from damen in the last sequence, and his cynicism was ultimately proven wrong, damen is proven wrong in this one. kastor does try to kill him when he shows mercy, the system is still being observed in ways that resemble the past. but damen isn’t alone, and laurent is there for him when he miscalculates—unlike jokaste or any of his other allies when kastor stripped him of his dignity and sent him to vere as a slave. and together they’re going to do their best to change the world for the better, even though the world is complicated and sometimes cynical. that, to me, is the most empowering way this story could possibly end.

He turned left. Instead of heading towards the main doors, he made his way to the viewing hall, where slaves were displayed for their royal masters. He turned into the narrow corridors along which he’d been taken on that long ago night, the fighting becoming distant shouts and clangs behind him, the sounds growing muffled as he ran. And from there, he descended down into the slave baths.

the trauma speedrun…

His body reacted, his chest constricting, his pulse kicking hard. For a moment, he was hanging suspended from those chains again, and Jokaste was coming towards him across the marble.

damen ptsd hasn’t magically healed. fits well with previous annotation about this final scene and why it works

All he could do was wait for Kastor to appear at the top of the stairs. Damen stood, his sword in his hands, and tried not to feel small, like a younger brother.

stronger man on top, etc

Kastor came in alone, without even an honour guard. When he saw Damen, he gave a low laugh, as though Damen’s presence satisfied in him some sense of the inevitable.

kastor: disney villain damen: he can’t be that bad

He thought of everything that Kastor had done—the long, slow poisoning of their father, the massacre of his household, the brutality of his own enslavement—and he tried to understand that these things had not been done by another person, but by this one, his brother. But when he looked at Kastor all he could remember was that Kastor had taught him how to hold a spear, that he had sat with him when his first pony had broken its leg and had to be put down, that after his first okton Kastor had ruffled his hair and told him that he had done well.

see previous recent annotations about damen seeing the best in people being a double edged sword (literally)

Why did you deserve it more than I did? Because you were better at fighting? What does wielding a sword have to do with kingship?’ ‘I would have fought for you,’ said Damen. ‘I would have died for you. I would have been loyal—would have had you by my side.’

i love how damen answers the question without even meaning to answer it. damen is more honorable than kastor not because of his lineage or skills, but because he acts honorably. if kinghood is meant for the honorable (which uhhhh personally i’m not a big fan of royalty stuff bc i think that’s lame but we’re staying within the narrative and kastor’s logic rn), then that is why damen deserves to be king while kastor does not

He made himself stop before he gave voice to the words that he had never let himself speak: I loved you, but you wanted a throne more than you wanted a brother.

a kingdom or this, and kastor chose a kingdom. and didn’t even get it. lol

‘You know I can’t beat you in a fair fight.’

the narrative knows that there is no such thing as a fair fight, but damen fundamentally will always believe that there should be.

‘I didn’t want you made a slave. When the Regent asked for you, I refused. It was Jokaste. She convinced me to send you to Vere.’ ‘Yes,’ said Damen. ‘I’m beginning to understand that she did.’

damen knows that’s a lie, and that the regent happily accepted damen as a slave as a gift from kastor so he could torture laurent. he also knows for a fact now that jokaste had been trying to protect him—from kastor.

I’m your brother.’ Kastor said it, as Damen took another step, and then another. ‘Damen, it’s a terrible thing to kill your own family.’ ‘You’re troubled by what you’ve done? It gives you a moment’s pause?’

kastor going into damage control mode because he thinks damen is going to actually do it. fucking coward

Kastor lifted his head and looked at him, and Damen saw a thousand unspoken words in his brother’s black eyes. ‘Thank you,’ said Kastor, ‘brother.’ And he drew a knife from his belt, and ran it straight through Damen’s unprotected body.

the paradox of a better world, as experienced and perpetuated by damen: have to believe in it for it to exist, but you’re going to experience pain and suffering because of that belief

‘There can’t be two Kings of Akielos.’ Kastor was coming down the steps towards him. ‘You should have stayed a slave in Vere.’

there actually can be two kings, but they’re named damen and laurent. hope that helps.

A shocked, familiar voice to his left. He and Kastor both turned their heads. Laurent was standing in the open archway, white-faced. Laurent must have followed him from the great hall. He was unarmed and still wearing that ridiculous chiton. He needed to tell Laurent to get out, to run, but Laurent was already on his knees beside him. Laurent’s hand was passing over his body. Laurent said, in an oddly detached voice, ‘You have a knife wound. You have to staunch the blood until I can call for a physician. Press here. Like this.’ He lifted Damen’s left hand to press against his stomach.

laurent is here for damen because damen believed in a better world, and tried to see the best in laurent. if he hadn’t done that, he would bleed out and die right now. ultimately it is damen’s way of thinking that prevails, and that’s why he’s our protagonist.

Then he took Damen’s other hand in his own, clasping their fingers together and holding his hand like it was the most important thing in the world. Damen thought that if Laurent was holding his hand, he must be dying.

god they’re so.

There was a snick as Laurent locked Damen’s gold cuff to one of the slave chains scattered over the floor. Damen looked at his newly chained wrist, not comprehending. Then Laurent rose, his hand closing around the hilt of Damen’s sword. ‘He won’t kill you,’ said Laurent. ‘But I will.’

SEE RECENT ANNOTATIONS.

also wow, i am a SUCKER for unfathomably soft treatment of the person a character loves, and then resolute violence towards the people who hurt them. which is like laurent’s whole thing. they’ve both changed, but some things are always going to be the same.

and of course, the continuing use of the cuffs and chains. in the same way that damen didn’t give laurent a choice but to believe that he wasn’t alone, laurent isn’t giving damen a choice but to survive this encounter with kastor.

Kastor had reached the bottom of the stairs. ‘I’m going to kill your lover,’ he said to Damen, ‘and then I’m going to kill you.’ Laurent stood in his way, a slender figure with a sword that was too big for him, and Damen thought of a thirteen-year-old boy with his life about to change, standing on the battlefield with determination in his eyes.

kastor you have no idea how cunty laurent is with a sword

Damen had seen Laurent fight before. He had seen the spare, precise style that he used on the field. He had seen the different, highly intellectual way that he approached a duel. He knew Laurent as an accomplished swordsman, a master even, of his own style. Kastor was better.

okay fine whatever.

Kastor, at thirty-five,

kastor you cannot be acting this way at age thirty fucking five.

Kastor lifted his sword. Damen tugged uselessly on the chain as Kastor advanced. It was like watching a former self, unable to stop his own actions.

damen is SO convinced that kastor is going to win this, because he won in marlas against auguste. and then beat laurent when they fought. buuuuut

And then Kastor attacked, and Damen saw what a lifetime of single-minded dedication had forged in Laurent.

damen is often wrong, especially about laurent. and kastor isn’t damen.

Years of training, of pushing a body never intended for martial pursuits to its limit in hours of ceaseless practice. Laurent knew how to fight a stronger opponent, how to counter a longer reach. He knew the Akielon style—more than that. He knew exact move sets, lines of attack taught to Kastor by the royal trainers that he could not have learned from his own sword masters, but only by watching Damen with meticulous attention as he trained, and cataloguing each movement, preparing for the day that they would fight.

and laurent had LEARNED from damen.

And because Laurent’s life had been dragged from its course, because he was not the sweet, bookish youth he might have been, but instead was hard and dangerous as cut glass, Laurent was going to take on Kastor’s best sword work, and force it back.

laurent, specifically as a character with trauma, means so much to me. sometimes people push back against the idea that trauma makes you stronger, because it’s often used as an apologetic platitude: “you experienced bad things, but it’s okay because you’re stronger.” i disagree with that implication wholeheartedly. but personally, i do think that trauma made me stronger, simply because it forced me to adapt in ways i would not have otherwise figured out. and to me this is a neutral fact, not a tragedy or uplifting platitude. trauma made me stronger, whether i like it or not. the uplifting part, for me, comes in the ways i can use that strength to fight for a better life and a better world. and that feels very close to the ethos of laurent’s character, and the captive prince series as a whole.

It was a simple misjudgement on Laurent’s part: a dip in the marble altered his footing and affected his line, his blade cutting too far to the left. He wouldn’t have misjudged if he hadn’t been tired. The same had been true for Auguste, fighting for hours on the front. His eyes flying to Kastor, Laurent tried to correct the mistake, close the gap into which a man could drive his sword if he was ruthless, and willing to kill. ‘No,’ said Damen, who had lived this, too, jerking hard on his restraints, ignoring the pain in his side as Kastor took the opening, moving with merciless speed to cut Laurent down. Death and life; past and future; Akielos and Vere. Kastor let out a choked sound, his eyes shocked and wide. Because Laurent wasn’t Auguste. And the stumble wasn’t a mistake, it was a feint. Laurent’s sword met Kastor’s, forcing it up, and then, with a neat, minimal motion of the wrist, driving forward into Kastor’s chest.

damen is always going to miss things, about laurent and everything else in the world. this often means he is blindsided in upsetting ways.

but sometimes he misses things like this. and it’s good, once in a while, for him be proven wrong :)

(as i’ve said, that’s the core of lamen. endless power shifts. and i love it.)

Laurent was already turning, already at Damen’s side, on his knees, his hands firm and strong on Damen’s body as though he had never left.

“anyway”

Kastor’s death he felt as the death of a man he had not known, or understood. Losing his brother—that had happened a long time ago, like the loss of another self who had not grasped the flawed nature of the world. Later, he would face that.

“another self who had not grasped the flawed nature of the world” damen if you want to know more about that guy you can read my bazillion annotations of your narration

Later they would lay Kastor out, taking him on the long walk, inter him, where he should be, with their father. Later he would mourn, for the man Kastor was, for the man he might have been, for a hundred different pasts and might-have-beens. Now, Laurent was beside him. Aloof, untouchable Laurent was beside him, kneeling on the wet marble hundreds of miles from home, with nothing in his eyes but Damen. ‘There’s a lot of blood,’ said Laurent. ‘Luckily,’ said Damen, ‘I brought a physician.’

‘I killed your brother.’ ‘I know.’

would have been a useful conversation to have three books ago, but i’m not complaining about what we got instead

Damen said it, and felt a strange empathy pass between them, as if they knew each other for the first time. He looked into Laurent’s eyes and felt himself understood, even as he understood Laurent. They were both orphans now, without family. The symmetry that ruled both their lives had brought them here, at the end of their journey.

okay sorry to criticize right before this wraps up but this paragraph wasn’t necessary

‘It was one kingdom, once.’ Laurent wasn’t looking at him when he said it, and it was a long moment before he lifted his eyes to Damen’s waiting ones, and Damen’s breath caught at what he saw there, the odd shyness of it, as though Laurent was asking instead of answering. ‘Yes,’ said Damen, feeling light-headed at the question.

that was literally a marriage proposal, right???

(interesting how we never get “i love you”s. although i think we have gotten many of them, just not in so many words. and those words being what They Are is very specific to our real-life culture and media.)

‘No, don’t move,’ said Laurent, when Damen pushed up onto an elbow, and then, ‘Idiot,’ when Damen kissed him.

i’d be lying if i said this didn’t immediately make me think of catradora

He pushed Damen firmly back. Damen let him. His stomach hurt.

damen bringing us home with one last understatement

It was not a mortal wound, but it was nice to have Laurent fuss over him.

The thought of days of bed rest and physicians was made sweeter by the thought of Laurent alongside him, making barbed remarks in public, and in private, newly tender. He thought, Laurent alongside him for all the span of his days. He lifted his fingers to touch Laurent’s face.

“my husband is a bitch and i love him so much”

‘You know, you’re going to have to unchain me at some point,’ said Damen. Laurent’s hair was soft. ‘I will. At some point. What’s that sound?’

never really letting each other go

He could hear it even in the slave baths, muffled but audible, the sound ringing out from the highest peak, a peal of notes, proclaiming a new king. ‘Bells,’ said Damen.

i know a lot of people really love this conclusion, and while i don’t dislike it, it doesn’t feel like it hits as hard as it could. when exactly have we heard bells before? i just scanned the prologue of book 1 and didn’t see them. i get the themes of kings rising (obviously) and the future, but i’m also wondering if there’s some obvious thing i’m missing that really makes this HIT. like, “he was watching the road” kind of hit. which i’ll be reading too, by the way. so it’s not quite over yet :)

final thoughts: see the past three books of annotations. i’m really happy i did this, and i'm so thankful for everyone who followed along with me. looking forward to the short stories, which i actually haven’t read except for the summer palace. let me know your recommended order, if you want!

[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.....

[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.

[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. 

@grapemama​​​ @seawhisperer​​​ @huliabitch​​​ @beccaplaying​​​ @thewallpapergoesorido​​​ @twomoonstwosuns​​​ @gooddaykate​​​ @livasaurasrex​​​ @ham4arrow​​​ @plexflexico​​ @readsalot73​​​ @hdlynn​​​ @lokiaddicted​​​ @randomness501​​​ @fioccodineveautunnale​​​  @roxypeanut​ @snivellusim​​​ @lukesrighthand​​​ @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts​​​@ ​​​​​@awesomefandomsunited​​​​​​​​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​​ @exrebelshocktrooper​​​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​​​ @ah-callie​​​ @swhiskeys​​​ @exrebelshocktrooper​​​ @u-wakatoshii @space-floozy​​ @cable-kenobi @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes​​​ @findhimfives​​​ @pedrosdoll​​​ @frietiemeloen​​ @arrowswithwifi​​​ @random066​​​ @uncomicalhumour​​​ @heather-lynn​ @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa​​​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​​​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl​​ @yabby-girl​ @xqueenofthecraziesx​​ @punkass-potato​​ @coredrive​​ @pascalesque​​ @theduchessofkirkcaldy​​ @queenquazar​​​ @sabinemorans​​​ @buckstaposition​​​ @holkaskrosnou​​​ @yespolkadotkitty​​​@seeking-a-great–perhaps @kochamcie​​​ @jaime1110​​​ @katlikeme​​​

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.  

[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.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Steve’s final attack; Queen x reader

*Author’s note*

Okay so INTENSE CHAPTER HERE. PROBABLY THE DARKEST CHAPTER I’LL EVER WRITE FOR THIS SERIES! GUN VIOLENCE AND SHOOTING IS IN THIS CHAPTER SO YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Potential death/paralysis, guns shown and spoken of, stalker themes shown (like I said this is a DARK chapter).

Again I’ve got trigger warnings below so if you want to block it out, i’ve got stalker, gun violence and shooting as my #tw:. Now to those who do wish to proceed with reading this chapter, you have been warned and proceed with caution, it’s a LOT to take in and just one more section to go with this chapter then I PROMISE from here on out it’ll be nothing as evil as this chapter. ALSO IMAGE SHOWN IN STORY IS NOT MINE. CREDIT GOES TO THE OWNER!!

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@simonedk​

@ixchel-9275​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@queensdivas​

@queendeakyy​

@queen-paladin​

@geek-and-proud​

@wormzteef​

@starswin​

@naturalswifty89​

@bohemiansweede​

@5sos-wdw​

@labessieisallama​

@isabella-bby​

@dj-lowkey​

@onebigfangirlworld​

___________________________________________________________

*June 7th, 1993. Madison Square Garden, New York*

This was insanity.  I should’ve seen the signs earlier, maybe if I hadn’t switched to coming here to Hollywood records maybe none of this would’ve happened.  Steve Harrison has gone too far now and now I’m deathly afraid of what he’ll do next.

I had told the cops and the judge myself to expect the next call to be my dead corpse lying in wait with a bloody message saying I TOLD YOU SO.  He’s been biding his time but I’m resorted to looking over my shoulder every time I go out in public.

I was in my dressing room trying to calm my nerves down before I had to go up on stage when a knock came at my door.  I jolted and asked.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me and Jensen baby.” I sighed with relief.

“Come in.” the door opened and there stood my darling husband and cousin in law.  Jensen was all geared up in a security uniform and had his Ruger SR1911 steel gun strapped to his pouch.

“Hey kid, how you doing?” Jensen asked me.

“I’ll be better once the show’s over.”

“Hey, don’t worry. As your new head of security I’ve got every cop in NYC on your side, plus some of my boys who have been firing guns for years. We’re not gonna let that creep anywhere near you again.” he said as he placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.  I looked up at him and took his hand.

“Thank you. Are the kids safe?”

“Yeah, Danneel has them in the front row.” He said to me.

“Good.”

“Jensen can you give us a minute alone?” Jack said to him.

“Okay, sure. I’ll get into position and get the boys ready.” Jensen gave me a sideways hug and kiss to the top of my head before leaving my dressing room.  Jack came up and sat down in front of me and said.

“There’s no way I can talk you out of this, is there?”

“No, you can’t.”

“Not even if I can convince you that you could just do your show from here. I’m sure the audience would think it would be adorable if you did. Cause I could be close beside you.”

“Jack, we don’t have the tech to make all that happen and you know it.”

“I know I’m sorry. But you can’t blame me for trying right?”

“I suppose not.” I cupped his cheek and he leaned up against my touch. “This is the last show of the tour. I promise once this is all over, we can go back to England and stay there.”

“How about we go to Capri. No better place right? Isolated, peaceful, our island of paradise. And this time we can make new memories with the kids.” I smiled and said.

“That sounds fabulous.”

“All for you my love.” He kissed me softly and that’s when I heard a knock and the voice of one of the volunteers.

“Mrs. Kline. You’re up in 30 seconds.” Jack and I quickly separated and I sighed.

“I’m coming.” Jack and I stared into each other’s eyes before he silently took my hand and we left my dressing room.

I now stood backstage getting myself pumped up and trying to get rid of the fear and anxiety of Steve out of my head.

“I’ll be right here watching you baby. And promise me, if you see anything that makes you the slightest uncomfortable, you get off the stage and come to me.” Jack said as he placed his hands on my upper arms.

“I promise Jack. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He cupped my face and we kissed as the announcer’s voice proclaimed.

“AND NOW DIRECTED FROM LONDON, ENGLAND AND WHO MADE HER MARK HERE. PLEASE GIVE IT UP FOR THE ANGEL OF ROCK! (Y/N) KLINE!!!” the crowd cheered louder and I took that as my cue to race onto the stage and I posed for the crowd.

“HELLO MSG! My home away from home! Are you ready to rock and roll!?” the crowd cheered and I opened up with ‘Who I am’.

*3rd Person POV*

As soon as (Y/n) went onto the stage, Jack stared at his wife with worry but admiration as he muttered.

“So much.” Unclipping a walkie-talkie given to him by Jensen he turned the radio on and said.  “Jensen, you copy?”

‘Loud and clear kid. All security is in position.’

“Good. This. Ends. Tonight. I don’t care how long it takes us, Steve is going down tonight. Dead or alive.”

As the concert continued, Jensen who was now walking standing alongside Jack checked in with the rest of the guards.

“Sector one report in.”

‘Copy you Jensen, negative signs of him.’

“Okay Gary, but keep your eye on that door. Don’t you dare take your eyes off of it for a second. Sector 2 how you guys doing?”

‘That’s a negative of him coming in through this way either.’

“He got through the screen room last time Jason, I want two men on that door all night.” Jack said into the walkie-talkie.

“George how you doing?” there was radio silence. “Yo George come in.” Jensen said again.  But again there was radio silence. “Damnit George! Answer your radio!”

“Any nearby units we’re not getting a response from sector 3. Go and check on him!” Jack said urgently.  Jack and Jensen looked at each other worriedly before a voice said.

‘Officer down! Repeat officer down!!’

“What do you mean he’s down!?” Jensen snapped.  At this point Jack was getting real anxious.  He turned to his wife who was singing her cover of ‘Somebody to love’ at the piano.

“How the fuck did he get in?!” Jack said as he combed his hand through his hair anxiously.

“All units we have a man down in sector 3. Close all perimeters!” Jensen’s voice said.

‘This is Sam of sector six. I have eyes on him. He’s in uniform!’

“What? He’s in officer uniform!?” Jensen’s voice cried out.

‘Affirmative! SHOTS FIRED! SHOTS FIRED!’ Jack turned on his radio and said.

“Gordon! I don’t care if you make a scene get my wife off that stage immediately!” Jack snapped.  When Jack turned around back towards the stage, he would soon be forever haunted by a scene that would haunt him forever.

Almost as if in slow motion an officer making sure that his face was hidden through the jacket and hat came up onto the stage and walked towards (y/n).  

Just as she was holding out the final vibrato note like she did when he proposed to her ten years ago, the officer soon took out a 9mm pistol and fired one shot into her side.

A loud bang echoed through the stadium and as (y/n) dropped from the piano bench, people screamed in a panic.

*My POV*

I felt a sudden rush of pain as I collapsed onto the ground. There was this wetness at my side followed by pain.  I could hear people screaming but the only thing I saw were the eyes of Steve Harrison. They were soulless and empty.  It was like looking into the eyes of a true monster.

“Should’ve killed me when you had the chance bitch.” He raised the gun and I heard another loud bang before feeling pain in my stomach and then my vision went bright before I closed my eyes.

*3rd Person POV*

After shooting her, Steve looked right at Jack who was just standing there in shock at what had just happened.  Steve grinned before leaning down and actually took off (y/n)’s wedding ring before taking off running.

Jack raced over to his wife.  As much as he wanted to chase after Steve for shooting the love of his life, his first and main concern was (y/n).

“(Y/n)! (Y/n) baby! Baby please can you hear me?” Jensen came down along with the head of medical who took her pulse.

“I’m barely getting a pulse. Call 911!” Jack knew he couldn’t wait that long.

Going off pure adrenaline and desperate to save his wife, Jack picked up his bleeding wife and raced out of the concert venue.

“Jack where you going!? WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” As soon as Jack came out of the massive screaming crowd that was still trying to run away from the stadium, he took off down 43rd street as fast as he could.

Having been to New York loads of times with (y/n) it was like he could navigate the city with his eyes closed.

“Move! Move! Move!” he would say to crowd of people who were just going about their normal walks around the city or tourists trying to get pictures.  When some of them recognized (Y/n), they tried to ask Jack what was wrong but he told them to fuck off.

Jack raced through traffic and down a steep hill till finally after running the full 20 blocks, he reached the hospital.  He quickly raced inside through the doors and screamed out.

“HELP! HELP MY WIFE NEEDS HELP! HELP!” immediately doctors and nurses came in with a gurney and a doctor asked him.

“What happened?”

“She—she was performing on stage. She—her stalker. He shot her.”

“Gunshot wounds to the side and stomach.” A male nurse said as they got her on the bed.  The doctor shined a light into her eyes while a female nurse checked her pulse.

“I’m not getting a pulse.”

“Let’s move her!” the doctor said.  Soon she was wheeled into the ICU, all of them barking out orders hoping they could save her life.  All the while, Jack desperately tried to follow his wife but a receptionist came and stopped him.

“(Y/n). (Y/n) my baby.”

“Sir you need to stay out here. Don’t worry they’re gonna do their best to save her. It’ll be okay.”

Hours ticked by and soon the hospital waiting room was surrounded by the entire Rock Angel team.  Jack who was still covered in his wife’s blood stared down at his stained hands trembling.  Jensen turned to his little cousin and couldn’t find the words to say.  But he reached out and placed a hand to his shoulder in comfort.

Feeling the tears in his eyes, Jack rushed out of the hospital and outside into the cool New York air.  Repeatedly he kept hearing the two gunshots in his head, and the evil look on Steve’s face as he just carelessly shot another human being, a woman, his wife without a care in the world.

It was like shooting a game animal to him.  Jack collapsed to his knees and wept his heart out.

Back inside, all the news stations were covering the story of the shooting at MSG.  At this point Jensen was getting sick and tired of it.

“Hey! Can you turn that crap off!?” he snapped at the receptionist.  She looked at him and obeyed his wishes. “And while you’re at it can you go back there and tell them just what the hell is taking them so long!?”

“Sir, the doctors are doing everything they can. They’ll come out when they can stabilize Mrs. Kline.” Jensen growled and nearly punched the wall until one of his old friends Gary stopped him.

“Easy man. Easy. Don’t take it out on her. It’s best they try to see if (y/n) will make it then give us the updates.”

“DON’T YOU DARE SAY THAT WORD!” Jensen screamed at him. Jensen then collapsed back into his chair whimpering. “Not if. There can’t be an if.” Jensen clasped his hands together as his leg bounced up and down and he too felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes.

As morning came across the Big Apple, the news was literally eating the story alive.  NYPD was on a statewide manhunt for Steve Harrison, and to make matters worse, the press had found out just which hospital the Rock Angel was at.  

They were swarming outside wanting a story from the husband or any of her team members.

With the story of the Rock Angel ‘assassination’ now going worldwide, it wouldn’t be long till the story reached back to England.

It had been over 10 hours since Jack had gotten his wife to the hospital and with the situation of the press being contained outside, Jack who now had the kids with him continued to wait in the waiting room.  

Little Kelly who was the most traumatized by the whole thing, clung onto her daddy’s arm and finally spoke for the first time since the incident.

“Is mummy gonna be with uncle Freddie?” Jack looked down at his baby girl.  He could see the redness in her eyes from her crying and he said as he held his baby girl closer.

“I don’t know baby girl. I hope not. I mean—as much as I’m sure he’d love to see her, I don’t think he’d want it to happen this quickly.”

“What’s the update with our Rock Angel?” a voice soon spoke up. Jack and Kelly turned around as did some of the team members and they were surprised to see Elton John and Bernie Taupin.  Kelly raced up towards them and she hugged her uncle Elton who immediately picked her up and held her.

“Uncle Elton, an evil monster he shot……”

“I know darling, I know. Uncle Bernie and I saw it on the telly.” He said as he rubbed her back comfortingly.

“You guys came all the way from St. Louis just to be here?” asked Jack.

“Darling we came for the whole family. Besides count yourself lucky that it’s me and not the in-laws.”

“Oh God!” Jack began to realize that Brian, Deacy and Roger might’ve heard about this story by now.  He lowered his hands in his head.  Elton looked down at Jack and said.

“Bernie, why don’t you take the mini-angel and her brothers, and go out and get them some ice cream.”

“But what if mum wakes up?” Elton rubbed her back again and said.

“Then I’ll be sure to call you straight away if any news on your mother comes around. Trust me dear after the night you’ve had, you deserve an ice cream.” Kelly looked down and nodded. “That’s my little bunny.” He kissed her cheek before setting her down, “Off you pop then.” Bernie softly smiled at her and took her hand and Bernie called out to the boys.

“Georgie, Jackson, come on.” The two 3 year old’s got off their chairs and went over to the pair.  Jackson took his sister’s hand while Bernie picked up Georgie in his free arm and the four of them left the hospital.  Elton then walked up to Jack and said.

“Come with me.” Jack wiped his tearstains and stood up from his chair.  Feeling his legs falling asleep already, Elton steadied him and the two of them walked along the hallway till they came to the first boys bathroom they could find.

They entered inside and Elton locked the door giving them some privacy.

“How could I let this happen?” Jack said as he leaned against the sink. “I knew something bad was going to happen, deep down I knew. Why didn’t I try harder to convince her?”

“Because you married the most stubborn woman I have ever had the privilege of knowing. Her stubbornness rivals that to my dearest friend who was once both of yours. That’s probably why I liked her so much.” Jack shook his head feeling a slight smile come at the corner of his mouth.

“I just—I can’t lose her. What if—”

“Now don’t you go talking like that! The world already lost Freddie Mercury. I’ll be damned if we have to lose the Rock Angel too. She’s a fighter! She always has been. So don’t you dare go talking bollocks on me boy!” Elton snapped.  He walked up to Jack and tightly gripped his shoulders encouragingly.

“I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her.” Jack whispered out in a choke.

“You won’t. But you listen and you listen good Jack Kline.” He lifted Jack’s chin up with his index finger. “You’re allowed to cry and weep, that’s not gonna make you weak. But you also need to remember this, you are not the only one affected by this. You have three innocent little eyes that had to see that gruesome sight that no child should ever, ever have to see.”

“Kelly? Jackson and Georgie. Dear god they’re never gonna recover from this.”

“In time they will. But right now they are feeling just as much fear and sadness as you are. Bernie’s buying you some time with a little bribery to make them forget for a moment. But when they get back, I want you to clean yourself up. And be the dad they need right now.” Jack looked up into Elton’s blue eyes that shone with strength.

Jack sniffled and nodded.

“Okay.”

“Good boy. That’s a boy.” Elton said as he gave Jack a comforting pat before bringing him into a tight hug.  Jack buried his face into Elton’s suit while Elton rested his head against Jack’s.  He gave him a comforting kiss on the top of his head before helping Jack clean up.

After helping him clean up, the two of them left the bathroom and walked back to the waiting room.

Another two hours have passed, making it now 12 hours since the Rock Angel had been admitted into the hospital.  Elton and Bernie remained with Jack and the kids until finally the doctor came out.

“Family of (Y/n) Kline?” at that point the entire waiting room stood up.  It was then the entire Rock Angel team stood up from the security, to the costumers, and roadies. The doctor was surprised until finally Jack came up and said.

“I’m her husband.”

“Your wife has been given a blood transfusion to replace the amount of blood she lost. She went into shock a few times during the procedure but we managed to keep her stable.”

“Is she—is she awake?” at that point the doctor sighed solemnly.

“Mr. Kline. The second bullet your wife took just barely penetrated some major organs. Any centimeter deeper would’ve killed her. We’ve put her into a coma and—I’m sorry to say that only time will tell if she’ll wake up.” This was something Jack did not want to hear.  He was desperate to hear that his wife was gonna be okay and that she was awake and alive.

“Can we at least go see her?” Jensen asked.

“We’re setting her up in a room right now. Give us 10 minutes and you can. But three at a time.” The Doctor advised looking back at everyone.

“Okay, thank you doctor. Thank you.” The doctor nodded and walked away but he stopped and said.

“Mr. Kline.” Jack looked up at him and he continued, “Had you stayed at the stadium and waited for us, there was a great chance of her not being saved. You were really lucky this time.” The doctor then walked away leaving Jack stunned at what he had to learn.

“Who would’ve thought something like this would finally get you running.” Jensen said.  Jack glared at his older cousin and he said, “Right wrong time to be bringing up all those races we had as kids.”

After several minutes waiting, a nurse came in and said that Jack and the kids could come and see (y/n) first.  She led them to her room on the second floor and when they came to room 211, she opened the door and there she was.

Hooked up to wires, breathing tubes in her nose, and IV’s for fluids and blood transfusion was the Rock Angel, wife and mother.

“Mummy.” Georgie whimpered.

“Mummy owie.” Jackson said.

“Yeah boys she’s—mommy got hurt.” Kelly didn’t speak a word but slowly walked right up to her mom’s bed.  This young 7 year old girl was now looking at something that only her mom once experienced before long ago.  She stood at her bedside, gripped the sheets as she sniffled and whimpered.

“Mum!” she allowed her upper body to collapse on the bed as she wept into the bedsheets.  Before she soon got up onto the bed and cuddled close to her mother’s left side and continued to cry.

Jack was heartbroken at seeing his little girl so upset.  He took the boys and placed them up on the bed as well as he came down to his baby girl and rubbed her back, hoping that it would provide her some comfort.  Meanwhile the boys cuddled close to their mom and found themselves crying for their mother.

At this point Jack didn’t know just what to do, all three of his kids had to go through something so traumatic and terrifying he was afraid it’d damage them forever.

But all he could do now was be there for them like Elton had told him earlier in the bathroom.  With (y/n) in a coma, he was the only parent left to be there for them.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t be the only parent in their lives.

As each day passed, every member of the Rock Angel team got to have their time with their dearest friend and amazingly kind person to work for.  Each member of the team would bring in gifts, balloons, flowers for the room, and give the family their thoughts and prayers.

Even fans themselves were reaching out to the hospital that the Rock Angel was in and sent in letters and gifts to Jack and the family.  New York practically had the Rock Angel memorialized as a figure to the city and hoped that she would survive this horrible ordeal.

By the 4th day, with a stern telling from Elton, Jack had arrived back from his hotel showered and cleaned up and had the kids go home with Jensen for a little while to be with their grandparents and away from this whole mess.

He entered his wife’s room to see Elton and Bernie just setting down their gifts.  Bernie had bought her favorite bouquet of flowers as well as some more balloons.  

While Elton brought in a large painting of a mother lioness and her cubs don’t by a famous French artist that he had called up for a favor he owed the singer.

“There we go, now you look like your handsome self again.” Elton praised.

“It was nice to get a shower in. It’s just that—with this whole thing I—”

“We get it Jack. This…..this is even more crazier than when it happened to Lennon. But this is a wait game, but I’ve got a strong feeling she’ll pull through. She always does.” Bernie said as he clasped Jack shoulder comfortingly.

“Thank you Bernie. Thank you both. I—don’t know what I would do without you both here.” The two older men smiled at him before Jack took his seat right by his wife’s side.  The three men sat there in silence as they looked down at the beautiful young woman sleeping before them.

She almost resembled Sleeping beauty or Snow White. The machine beeping off her heartbeat and brain activity which was all normal.  She just wasn’t awake.

“Why didn’t you both call us about this!?” a voice suddenly snapped out.  Jack froze in both fear and guilt at the voice that had just spoke up.  He lowered his head in shame and he shut his eyes.

“Brian, Roger.” Elton greeted them.

“Elton, Bernie.” Brian’s voice greeted.

“Jack Kline you have got some fucking nerve about hiding this from us! We get home and we see you and (y/n). Her face plastered on the front of every fucking magazine! I tried calling her a hundred times throughout these past few months, she never answered. And now I see all of this on the news! The Rock Angel shot at by her former personal assistant!” Roger snapped at him.  Each time his voice growing angrier and angrier.

“Roger lay off him. You don’t know just what he’s been through the past few days!” Elton snapped at him.

“Elton with all due respect please stay out of this. This is a family discussion.” Brian said to him sternly.

“Well believe it or not, she’s my family too! Freddie asked me personally to keep an eye on her. So this is just as much of my problem as it is yours.” Elton challenged the curly haired rockstar.  Before another retort could be said from either rockstar, Jack choked out.

“You think I didn’t want to reach out?” the two members of Queen turned to Jack.  His head still lowered down.  Jack let out a sniffle and he said. “But she didn’t want me to. I should never have listened to her. Why didn’t I do more?” he growled at himself.  He turned to look up at his father and uncle in laws before choking out. “It was my fault.” Before he wept, but he hardly any tears came out due to his dehydration, but the emotion was all there as he leaned up against his wife’s unconscious body.

The anger and resentment the two Queen members once felt, melted away as they heard the pain in Jack’s voice.

“Jack.” Roger started off softly.  Jack gripped his wife’s hand in his as he kissed her temple. Brian and Roger turned to Elton who told them.

“They’re saying there might be a chance she may not wake up. Not only he but the kids saw the bastard shoot her right there on stage performing her favorite song of Freddie’s.” at hearing that, Brian and Roger looked down at Jack in shock.  Brian ran his hand through his curls as he exhaled heavily.

“Please……” Jack pleaded in a soft whisper as he turned to look up at them. “Please forgive me. I—I couldn’t protect her.” Brian looked down at Jack with empathy while Roger still looked at him with a harsh glare.

When Jack turned back around to weep into his wife’s shoulder. He didn’t notice Roger walking right up to him.  Roger just stood over Jack and he could’ve struck Jack in anger, sorrow whatever was racing through him.

In the end, he just placed his hand on top of Jack’s head and said four words that would resonate within Jack for the rest of his life.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Jack turned to look up at him. Behind his circular shades, Roger’s eyes were now showing only sadness.  He then immediately embraced Jack and Jack buried his face into Roger’s chest.

Just like he had done with (y/n) many times whenever she cried, Roger cupped the back of his head and allowed Jack to bury his face deeper into his chest if he needed as Jack’s arms wrapped around him and he shook with each sob her let out.  The drummer held firm but allowed a few tears to slip down his face.

Soon enough Brian joined in as he embraced Jack from behind. The two of them sandwiching their beloved girl’s husband.  Elton and Bernie took this as their cue to leave, so without a word the two of them left the hospital and decided that for now they needed to get back to the real world and let the members of Queen take over in comforting the Kline family through these dark times.

But they both promised they’d call and check up on how their beloved angel was doing.

Three weeks passed and throughout that time Jack had confessed to Brian and Roger everything that had been going on with Steve, the stalking, the threatening letters, everything.

“Where are the kids?” asked Brian.

“Jensen took them the day before you guys came here. They—they needed time away. Mom’s been calling me with updates. All of them having nightmares, especially Kelly.”

“Oh god that poor dear.” Brian exhaled.

“You think you could call and have them come back? Now that we’re here.” Asked Roger.

“I could try. Don’t know if my mom will allow it.”

“I’ll convince her if I have to.” Roger said strongly.  Jack nodded.

“I’ll try.” He then stood up and went to find a payphone while Roger went with him leaving Brian alone with (Y/n).  Brian took a seat close to her bedside and took her hand in his, his thumb gently stroking over her knuckles.

“You stubborn, stubborn girl.” He scoffed softly. “You could’ve told us. We would’ve understood. Please, please my darling star. Don’t leave us yet. Not so young.”  He squeezed her hand tightly between both of his before lifting it up and kissed the back of her hand.

“Good news, she’s gonna bring the kids over.” Roger said as he and Jack returned to the room.  “Any sign of her moving at all?” he asked Brian.

“Afraid not.” Roger then took a seat on the other side and stroked his daughter’s cheek.

“Hey lovie. Yeah it’s me. Papa lion’s here. Listen; you gotta come back to us. For the kids, for Jack, your family. We all miss you. I miss you. And…..you can’t be with your real dad. Not yet. Remember our talk on your 21st birthday? Don’t do this to your papa lion. Don’t leave him just yet my lion cub.”  He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

He stayed there for as long as he could before finally separating and allowing a couple of tears to fall down onto her cheek.  

He wiped them away as he lay his head down close to her, wrapping his arm around her body hoping that his father love would bring her back.

The next day as promised, Jack’s mom came in with the kids. When little Kelly saw her godfather and uncle, she immediately ran up to her godfather and embraced him tightly.  He felt the young child softly cry into his shoulder.

“Oh Kelly cub.” Roger cooed as he embraced his goddaughter and rocked her back and forth trying to comfort her.

“Mom, has she—” Jack asked his mom as he held Georgie in his arms while Jackson went over to his uncle Brian.

“She hasn’t spoken a word since she came to live with me and your dad. Just nightmares every night. Not even the therapist we got for her and the boys can get her to say anything.”

“And what of the boys?” asked Brian.

“We talk. It’s not fun though.” Jackson said as he fondled with his uncle’s unbuttoned shirt.

“We don’t like talking about that night every day.” Georgie said as he clung onto his dad.

“I’m sure it doesn’t buddy. Talking about stuff like that never is. Trust me I had to tell it over and over again to some police officers and detectives these past few weeks.”

“Does it hurt to talk about it? Cause I hurt when I talk about it.” Georgie said to his dad.  Jack leaned his head against his son’s and said.

“Every time.” As Roger rubbed little Kelly’s back, she then finally whispered so brokenly that it broke Roger’s heart but also surprised him because this was the first thing she had to say in over three weeks.

“She’s gonna die, isn’t she?” Roger looked down at her and tucked away her (h/c), the same color she inherited from her mother.

“Could you give Kelly-cub and I some privacy?” they all nodded and left the room, knowing what Roger had in mind.

Jack however was hesitant to leave.  He stood halfway out the door before turning back to his baby girl. He looked to Roger but the drummer just gave him a look that said to him ‘let me handle this.’  While Jack wanted to stay and talk to his daughter, maybe even try to comfort her, another part of him was saying let Roger handle this.

He was always able to comfort his wife whenever she needed it in the past long before he knew her, maybe what his daughter needed was the famed Roger Taylor “comforting charm” just like her mom always got.  With that Jack left taking Georgie with him.

Roger removed his shades and hung them over the front of his shirt while he adjusted Kelly in his lap.

“Is that what’s been on your mind lately lion cub?” she gave him a sad nod.

“All I hear is mum still not being awake. And it’s all that’s ever on tv. And now seeing her still the same I—I know I’m gonna lose her. Just like she lost her mum when she was a year older than me. I don’t wanna grow up without her!” Kelly wept.

“Hey, hey, hey Kelly-bear. Kelly lovie. Shhh, shhh. Deep breaths darling.” Roger soothed her as he cupped the side of her face.  Kelly look at her godfather and saw the gentle blue eyes staring back at her.  Those eyes that always gave her a sense of warmth and comfort when her parents were either too busy or not around.

She did exactly what her god papa told her to do as Roger stroked her cheek with his thumb.

“That’s my little cub.” He praised as he kissed her other cheek. “I know this is a very scary time love, believe me I’m terrified.”

“You are?”

“Yes. We all are.”

“But I thought grownups never got scared.” Kelly said with a tilt of her head.

“Oh trust me love. Grownups get scared a lot. I’ve been there, your uncles have been there, even your mum and dad. Fear is natural to everyone old or young. And something like this—it’s really scary.”

“Will I really grow up without a mum like she did?” hearing that question broke Roger’s heart.  He stroked the strands of hair out of her face but before he could say anything a voice spoke up from the door.

“I doubt that Kelly. She has the strength of a lioness, and that’s what you got from her.” The two of them turned towards the door and Kelly gasped out and proclaimed as she ran towards the door.

“Uncle Deacy!” Roger was surprised to see his dear friend again after two years apart.  Kelly hugged her uncle and Deacy embraced the young girl back.  He rubbed her back comfortingly before kneeling down to her height.

“Your mum’s been through many obstacles and tribulations. This is just another one to the list. She knew what it was like to grow up without a mum, and she’s always told me that she refused to let you kids grow up without one. Especially you poppet.”

“But what if she doesn’t pull through uncle Deacy? Some people are saying mum may never wake up.” Deacy sighed heavily and said.

“For now it’s still too soon to tell. Nothing is written in stone yet.”

“Your uncle Deacy’s right love. As long as these monitors keep beeping, we know that your mum is still alive. She’s just resting and trying to heal herself. And with a mighty lion soul that she has, she’ll need a lot of rest.” Roger said as he stood up and knelt down beside her, kneeling right beside John.

Kelly turned back to her mom and walked over to her.  She laid her hand on the small railing and just looked at her mum.

“She looks like Sleeping beauty.”

“She does, doesn’t she?” Roger said as both he and Deacy stood up.

“Can—can she hear us?” Kelly asked.

“I’m sure she can. I’ll bet she’d love to hear your voice.” Kelly walked closer towards her mom’s head and she said.

“Mum. It’s me, Kelly. I—I wish you’d wake up. Please, I need to know you’re gonna be okay. Seeing you get hurt like that was really scary, but papa Roger says that it’s okay to be scared. Said that you get scared sometimes too. But he also said that you need to heal your lion soul, so hopefully it’s getting better. But I wish you could wake up because I love you so much and miss you. Same with everyone else.”

The two youngest members of Queen watched with heavy hearts as this young girl was talking to her coma-induced mother.  Doing something that only a grown up should do when their parents are elderly, not when the child is still a literal child just barely the age of 10.  

“Can I have a moment alone with her?” John whispered to Roger. The drummer looked at the bass player before agreeing to Deacy’s request.

“Kelly love, why don’t we go and find your dad and head on over to the cafeteria? Maybe get a pudding cup.” Kelly looked up at him before turning back to her mum.  She kissed her mom’s cheek before racing over to Roger who picked her up in his arms. Roger held her close to him and rubbed her back comfortingly as Deacy did the same before giving her a kiss on the head.

He watched as his friend took his niece away leaving him alone with his sister.

For Deacy this was the third hardest thing he ever had to cope with.  First he had to go through the trauma of losing his dad so suddenly, then he lost his best friend Freddie to a terrible disease that literally ate him from the inside out, and now this.

John Deacon had heard about this terrible event through his daughter Laura who came in storming from school with a newspaper on hand. She showed her father the article that had read ROCK ANGEL SHOT AT MSG IN NYC.

Deacy almost lost it at this point.  It had almost been 2 years since Freddie’s death and now to hear that his sister had been shot at by some deranged psychopath, it practically destroyed him.  

Like with Freddie’s final moments, Deacy almost didn’t even want to go and see his sister in some hospital bed barely clinging to life only to be let down for the third time in his life.  He was even thinking that this would be the thing that would finally push him over the edge.

But he was stopped by the love of his wife Veronica who had managed to get through to John.  She told him that he had missed his chance with Freddie, and with the love and support he had given (y/n) throughout the 13 years he had known her, he had to go see her.  Because if he didn’t and should she be pronounced dead, he was going to regret it for the rest of his life.

So cleaning himself up, John Deacon bought his first class flight to New York City and had arrived just for her.

“Sister dear.” He started off.  “I—I don’t know if you can hear me but, I’m here. I read what happened….About the shooting, of course the media loves to exploit some details so I don’t know what exactly is true or not. But…..why you didn’t tell us what was going on? Sister you—you should’ve come to us. We could’ve protected you. I—I could’ve protected you. Please don’t go. Don’t you leave us too. Please come back to us.”

*My POV*

I don’t know where I was.  All I saw was nothing but blackness until suddenly a flash of light came at me and I was now in a—jungle? Wait why was everything a bigger? And why do I feel—different? I mean I still feel like me but not, this is confusing. I then see just ahead of my what appeared to be some sort of lake or well I guess watering hole (since this is a jungle I guess I better call it a watering hole).

I walked towards it and stood at the edge of it but when I got up to it, I was—well to put it lightly stunned. No I’m just gonna say I was freaking out.  What I saw staring right at me was a lioness.  I backed up screaming.  Hell you would scream too if a lioness was staring right back at you. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Back it up.  I approached the water again and lifted my hand but the lioness raised its paw up.

Oh. My. God. The lioness was—I was the lioness.

“Okay. This is even weirder than when Deacy and I got so drunk in Rio that we both woke up with each other’s clothes on and he had the word ANUS written on his forehead in sharpie while I had a dick drawn on mine.”

Okay so I’m a lioness. I am a freakin lioness.  The Queen of the beasts. Why? I mean I know Roger and the band always called me lioness but that’s just figuratively. But now, literally I’m a lioness.

“Maybe if I walk around I might find someone who could explain this crazy shit show.” I then began walking through the wide jungle, but as I walked I kept feeling this brush of pain on both my side and stomach but I didn’t know why.  And I know this sounds crazy, but I think something or someone is following me.

Every time I turned around, I would see this brush of a shadow before it disappeared.  I was weary and thanks to these lion instincts it made me even more aware that whatever it was, was still following me as I kept walking.  Suddenly out of nowhere I felt something land on my head and a flap of wings attacked my face.

I fell to the ground and shook whatever it was off of me before growling at it.

“Show yourself!” I soon heard a laugh and it said.

“Bout time you finally noticed me.” I turned around and there stood a peacock.

“Are—are you the thing that’s been following me?”

“I don’t know. Was I? Or am I?” he spoke in a riddle-like manner as he fanned his tail feathers.  I rolled my eyes and said.

“Well this is where you stop. Now go away.”

“Whatever for?”

“Cause you’re annoying me, and I don’t have time for games. I’m looking for someone.”

“Oh really? And just who might that be?” he came up to me and cocked his head in that bird-like manner.

“I—I don’t know. Just someone. Anyone.”

“Well I know where you can find someone.”

“You do?”

“Yes. But shh come here, it’s a secret.” I leaned down towards him and he wrapped his wing around me.  But instead of giving me a name he started speaking in bloody tongues, flaunting before prancing about away from me.

“Stop! Stop! Enough! ENOUGH! What the hell does that mean?”

“It means you’re a peacock. And I’m not.” He then began laughing at his own statement.

“No, you’re as mad as the March Hare.” I muttered angrily as I walked away.

“Wrong!” I had a feathery finger suddenly poke my nose stopping me in my tracks. “I’m not the one whose mad. Cause you don’t even know why you’re here.”

“You don’t know the first thing about me bird! Now stay out of my way before I go full predator on you!” I growled before giving him a warning roar which made him fly back scared.

“Okay! Okay, okay.” I walked past him angrily.  “No wonder why you’re a lioness my Rock Angel.” I gasped as I stopped in my tracks.  I turned towards him and he only gave a wave before saying, “Bye-bye.” And took off flying, almost turning into a shadow with how quick he suddenly took off.

“Oi wait!” I chased after the peacock.  Practically losing sight of it till I saw it now standing on top of a rock.  I trotted towards it and I asked him. “Did you just say my Rock Angel?”

“No. I said thy Rock Angel.”

“No you didn’t. I specifically heard you say My. And—” I trailed off before looking downward solemnly. “Only one person ever called me that. But he died. What felt like a long time ago.”

“Nope. Wrong again darling!” he laughed again before flying off the rock and now stood before a small entrance into a thicket-like forest. “You said you wanted someone to talk to, I can show you. But you gotta catch up with me first and I’m fast!” he then disappeared through the hole.

I trotted up to it and looked inside it.  I can’t believe I’m actually doing this, but—what other option is there? So I entered inside the thicket.

It was definitely a tight squeeze just to even go through it but somehow I managed to get inside.  I peeked through some thick brush and there sitting on a perch of a tree was the peacock.

“Don’t dottle dear, hurry up!”

“Hey wait, wait, wait!” he kept soaring and jumping from branch to branch all the while chanting and singing out words that didn’t even sound right.

“C’mon lioness!”

“Would you slow down!?” suddenly I felt myself falling down a hill but I quickly stood back up and continued to push forward.  

Getting caught in branches and vines all I kept thinking to myself was follow the peacock’s bizarre singing.  Hitting bush after bush I ran faster and faster as the thicket closed closer and closer around me.

“STOP!” the peacock suddenly said as it spread out it’s tail.  I skid to a stop and the peacock made it’s cooing sound as it’s tail tucked back in like a fan.  He then slowly strutted towards the edge of the thicket and he said. “Come here child.”

I got out of the thicket and we now stood before some kind of creek.

“Why’d you bring me here?”

“Look into the water, and you will speak to the one you most long to speak to.” I looked at him, and I was surprised to see that instead of this goofy, child-like attitude he had earlier.  He was now more serious and dead-center on me doing this.

I followed his orders and slowly approached the creek. I slowly walked towards it before looking into the water that lay beneath me.  

But all I saw was myself.  I waited and waited but still nothing happened.

“Nothing’s happening. And just who is it that I’m supposed to see?”

“Shhh! Look harder.” I then saw his feather-finger touch the water and ripples soon started to form.  I looked closer into the water and soon an image began to form. Suddenly everything around me grew darker but then something echoed through the air.

“AYE-OH!” my eyes widened and I whispered.

“Freddie?” suddenly there was a bright glow right beside me and then a bright flash.

I felt myself floating now and when I looked down at myself, I saw that I was now human again.  There was nothing but darkness before suddenly a giant bright light encompassed the darkness.  Instead of alone and frightened, there was—warmth.  And love.

The light then began to form a giant silhouette of a man (by giant I mean seriously giant. I was like an ant compared to this shadow).

However this specific silhouette was very familiar to me. It was Freddie, standing in the exact shadow position that he once did for the Bohemian Rhapsody video.

Though I couldn’t physically see his face, it was him.

“(Y/n) dear. Why are you here?” he said to me.

“I—I was…..” it then came back to me.  The concert, the pain, the gunshots, Steve. “I was shot. Steve he—killed me. At the concert.”

“Not quite my darling. You’re still clinging onto life. So I’m going to make the decision for you. Go back. Go back to our family. You still have so much more to give to the world. The world may have lost Freddie Fucking Mercury, but do not let them lost the Rock ‘Badass bitch’ Angel.”

“BUT WHY FREDDIE!? Steve he—he’s made my life hell this past year. How can I face him?” Freddie’s spirit shined brighter than the sun and encompassed around me as he said.

“You will do that by reminding him who you are. You are (Y/n) (m/n) Kline. My Rock Angel.” Feeling his light around me, it was like Freddie was actually holding me, embracing me with his confidence and giving me the strength I needed to fight.  

I looked up right where his face was at and tears poured down my face as I looked up at him in awe.

“Show him. The lioness you are.” It was then his silhouette began to disappear.

“NO! PLEASE! Don’t leave me again!” I chased after his light that was now getting further and further away from me.  No matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t reach him. “FREDDIE!”

“Show him the lioness you are.”

“Don’t go.” I gave up the run and collapsed to my knees as Fred’s final words to me were.

“The lioness you are.” I collapsed to my knees before feeling this gently wind blow across my face as Freddie’s spirit was now gone and I was once again in nothing but darkness.

Sitting there in silence, I began to realize that I couldn’t stay here.  Freddie was right, even though I would have to face Steve again if they caught him and put him on trial.  I couldn’t abandon my family.  Brian, Deacy, Roger, Elton, David, Jensen, Jared, their wives and children. Mum and dad. Jack, and my kids.

I grew up without a mother, I couldn’t let my own children go through the same thing, especially my baby girl Kelly.  Cause she’s almost the exact age I was when I lost my mum, no I refuse to leave my baby motherless! That cycle will not go on!

“I gotta get out of here. But how? How? Come on (y/n) wake up. WAKE UP!!!” I screamed.  I kept screaming at myself to wake up, I shook my head rapidly, pinched myself, even slapped my cheeks a few times telling myself to wake up but nothing was working. “No it. It’s can’t end like this. I can’t die. I don’t wanna die. Please. Please wake up. Freddie I—I don’t know what else to do.” There was dead silence. I lowered my head and felt tears come into my eyes.  I sniffled before I suddenly heard a voice.

‘Sister dear.’ Deacy? No it—it couldn’t be. ‘I—I don’t know if you can hear me but, I’m here.’ It was him.  I knew that distinct accent anywhere.  But—why was he here? I hadn’t seen him since the tribute concert two years ago.  He never called, or sent a letter, he wanted his space and I obliged by giving it to him. Now he was here.

I soon felt something take my hand, I felt a squeeze before Deacy’s voice spoke again.

‘I read what happened….About the shooting, of course the media loves to exploit some details so I don’t know what exactly is true or not. But…..why you didn’t tell us what was going on? Sister you—you should’ve come to us. We could’ve protected you. I—I could’ve protected you. Please don’t go. Don’t you leave us too. Please come back to us.’ I could hear the tremor in his voice by the end.

“Oh Deacy.” I cooed. “Please, please (y/n) wake up. They still need me. I can’t leave them now. Not like this. Please somebody, anybody, wake me up.”

It was then I felt this warmth inside my chest.  It got warmer and warmer until yet another light shined right where I got shot the second time and I was now surrounded by bright light.

*3rd Person POV*

Deacy remained there clutching his sister’s hand tightly, his eyes brimming with tears.  Suddenly he felt fingers slightly twitching in his grip.  His face quickly changed from sorrow to surprise.  Slowly for the first time in 3 weeks, (y/n) Kline was finally opening her eyes.

*My POV*

The first thing I saw was white.  White light everywhere.  Oh god please tell me I didn’t go to heaven. I wanted to go home.  But it wasn’t until my hearing came back and I could hear the sounds of machines beeping and counting off something.  I felt a hand grasping mine and when my vision became clear, there sat Deacy.

Boy did he change in the last two years.  His hair was now more grey and longer now.  It came right just the back of his neck, a few inches from growing past his shoulders.  His eyes were red and brimmed as he stared down at my in shock, almost not believing something.

“Did you seriously grow a mullet?” was the first thing I asked him.  He smiled and scoffed out as he shook his head.

“At least I still have hair unlike Roger whose slowly losing his. Of all the things to say that’s the first thing that comes out of you?” I playfully looked up at him.  He didn’t say another word but his actions spoke louder than what he could ever say.

He leaned down towards me and began kissing all over my face. Cupping my cheeks in his hands as he would press his forehead to mine and poking his sharp nose to mine, drawing in our sibling strength.

“Hey Deacy, Roger said you might want some breakfast since you—” we both looked up at the door and there stood my Jack.  Deacy stepped aside from the bed as Jack and I locked eyes with each other.  He dropped what looked like a pudding cup and stood there frozen.

“Hey Jack.” I said.  Jack didn’t say a word but crossed over to me, his bottom lip trembling as he sat down beside me and cupped my face in his hands, just like Deacy had earlier. A sad smile soon broke out across his face as tears poured down his face and he gently embraced me.

“You came back.” I leaned against his shoulder and inhaled his scent.  And yeah even though he smelled like he hadn’t showered in days, I didn’t care at this point.  It was Jack. I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him as hard as I could.  We separated from each other and he leaned down and kissed me.  The kiss got more and more passionate and I said between our kisses.

“I’m here Jack I’m…..I promised. Till death….”

“Don’t even finish that.” We both chuckled as we now stared at each other.

“The kids! Jack where are my babies? He didn’t……”

“No, no baby. Brian and Roger have them. They’re alright. Well physically they are. They were shaken up the first several days.”

“I’ll go get them.” Deacy offered as he left the room.

“What—what happened Jack?”

“You really don’t remember?”

“All I remember was pain, a loud popping sound and Steve. Other than that nothing.”

“(Y/n). Steve he—he shot you during Somebody to love. He shot you twice in the side and stomach. I ran you all the way to the hospital.”

“You did?” he nodded. “How—how long have I been out?”

“You were in the ICU for over 12 hours before being moved here. But you’ve been in a coma for the past 3 weeks.”

“Three—three weeks?!” I shouted which made me flinch which caused some pain in my side.

“Baby are you alright?!” he asked urgently.

“Just a pain in my side. Must’ve stressed out a stitch or something.”

“I’ll call the doctor and let him know you’re awake.” As he reached over and pressed the call button on the wall, I heard the racing of footsteps coming towards the room.  Paranoid I thought it was Steve coming to finish the job, but soon three small voices eased my nerves tremendously.

“Mummy!” soon racing in were Kelly, Georgie and Jackson. All three of my kids raced over and tried to climb up on my bed.

“Wait, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on kids. Easy. Mommy is hurting very badly. Be gentle around her.” Jack warned the kids as my boys got up by my feet while Kelly stood on the other side of me.

“Are you okay mummy?” asked Georgie as he lay on my right side.

“I will be baby.”

“Bad man hurt mummy.” Jackson said.

“Yes he did Jackson. But mummy’s gonna be okay now.”

“Are you sure you’re not gonna die mum?” I looked to my left to see my baby girl’s look of uncertainty.  I lifted my hand and wiped away her hidden tear.

“I’m sure baby. A…..very special angel told me I was gonna be okay when I woke up. I promise you, I’m gonna be just fine. A few days of rest and I’ll be right as rain again. Just you wait and see.” I poked her nose which made her smile before she got closer to me and leaned her head against my shoulder.  I smiled as I leaned my head against her and kissed the top of her head.

“You damn better well be. Cause hearing about all this on the news is not what I ever want to see from you again.” I looked up at the door and there along with Deacy were Brian and Roger.

Oh fuck.

“Dad, Brian. I—”

“We’ll discuss this later. For now we’ll let you be with your kids and husband.” Brian lectured me, that stern look in his eyes when he meant something.

“I’m afraid that won’t happen till later.  I’m gonna have to ask all of you to leave while I check Mrs. Kline’s vitals.” A male doctor around his mid-30’s possibly early 40’s with short brown hair and tan skin said as he came in.

“Why can’t we stay with her?!” Kelly demanded.

“The doctor’s gotta make sure mommy’s okay sweetie. But she needs to be alone so that she can do his tests.” Jack tried to calm her down.

“No I wanna stay with mummy! I want to stay with mummy! I want to stay with mummy!” she began to throw a tantrum.

“Kelly. Kelly. Kelly Michelle Kline!” I spoke her name in a low toned voice.  She stopped her fitting and I said as I cupped her chin.  “None of that now. You are to do as your father and the doctor tell you.”

“But what if you die?!” she whimpered.  Oh my poor baby girl.  God if I ever come face to face with Steve again, I’ll be sure to give him hell for traumatizing my little girl like he did.

“Baby these tests aren’t dangerous to me. It’s just to see if I’m gonna be okay to leave. Now I want you to go with your father and stay with him until the doctor gives the all clear to come back in. And no more tantrums, is that understood?”

“Yes mama.” She huffed solemnly.

“Good girl.” As Brian and Deacy each took the boys, Jack took our daughter’s hand and as they passed the door, Roger took her other hand and soon everyone but the doctor was out.  “I’m so sorry about that she’s never—”

“No worries Mrs. Kline. I get children who act like that all the time when their parents go into surgery or they need to get a shot. First introductions I’m Dr. Hamilton, I met your husband at the door when he brought you in.”

“Did he seriously run the full 20 blocks to get here?” I asked him.

“Oh yeah. And it was lucky for you he did. I told him based on the amount of blood loss you had, had he waited for an ambulance at the stage, you might’ve been lost to us.” Oh my god.  Jack you—you crazy, indescribable man.  “Okay now first I want to check your eyes, look right at me.”

I looked at him as he shined a light in my eyes.  He held his finger up and told me to follow it. I followed his instructions and he said,

“Okay now straight at me again.” He nodded. “Okay pupils are normal, and your ocular motility is perfect. So there’s no brain damage. Tell me do you have any discomfort? Feeling any pain around the stomach?”

“Just a sharp pain in my side when I moved around after finding out how long I had been in a coma for.”

“Alright let me take a look.” He uncovered me and lifted my shirt up so that he could see just what had been done.  My right side and the center of my stomach had been stitched up and was still stained with some dried up blood.  “Well good news is there’s no unhooked stitches. We’ll get you some morphine to dull the pain. And then I can prescribe to you the pain killers you’ll need while you recover here.”

“Thank you Dr. Hamilton.”

“You’re welcome Mrs. Kline. Are there any other concerns you wish to speak to me about?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact. How long will I need to be here for?”

“Well that depends. Cause here’s what I’d like to show you that we had found out from the first gunshot wound you had gotten.” He turned on a screen light and held up my scans of my skeleton.  “When the first bullet entered your side, it actually ended up almost right in the L3 vertebrate.”

“And what is that?”

“It’s the vertebrate that helps with the leg muscles. There—might be a chance you may not be able to walk again.” What? No it—it can’t be. “But it’s not 100%. My best guess is that there’s a 50-50 shot. It didn’t penetrate it enough to cause the L3 to break, but there was some damage to it when the bullet tried to exit out that way through your Lumbar vertebrate. If you can show us you can at least attempt to walk, we can have you transferred to our physical therapy facility in Upstate New York.”

“And if you’re wrong?” he sighed heavily and said.

“Then we can do one of two options. We can operate to try and repair any nerve damage done, but that in itself could have serious risk. Or…..you can tell us to let you go and you’ll never be able to walk again.”

Steve you selfish, cowardice, son of a bitch! You’re ruined me!

“I’m sorry miss. But don’t lose all hope just yet. We’ll give you a week of bedrest and do some minor leg tests to see how you’re doing.”

“Thank you Dr. Hamilton.” He nodded and said he call my family back in before he left my room.

I couldn’t believe this.  There is literally a 50% chance that I may never walk again.  How the hell was I gonna perform? No one would want to see a wheelchair rockstar.  Steve’s basically ruined my life now? How the hell am I ever gonna recover from this.

At that point the kids came back inside with Jack, Brian, Deacy and Roger.  The kids all cuddled up to me and we shared a brief moment until a police officer came in.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Kline. I’m Lieutenant Banks NYPD. I wanted to ask if you’d give us a statement in regard to Steve Harrison’s attack on you.”

“She’ll give you her statement when she’s well enough.” Roger snapped out.

“Dad.” I warned him.  “I’ll tell you everything.” He took out his notepad and I confessed everything, all while the guys and the kids were there.

“Okay now did anything happen after the shooting?” asked Lt. Banks.

“He uhh….he looked right at me and actually stole her wedding ring right off her finger.” Jack explained.

“He did what!?” I finally looked down at my left ring finger and was horrified to see that my ring was truly gone. “No. That—that son of a……”

“Actually Mrs. Kline. We’ve recovered the ring. In fact, I’ve got it right here.” He soon dug through his pocket and pulled out an evidence bag.  He opened it up and soon he pulled out my wedding ring.  

“How did you get it back?” asked Brian as Jack took the ring and placed it back on my finger.

“When was the last time any of you checked the news?” the Lt. asked us.  

We all stayed silent before he walked up and turned on the TV.  A female news anchor sat there at the desk and she said.

“It has been three weeks since the horrific attack at Madison Square Garden. Rockstar sensation (Y/n) Kline aka the Rock Angel was shot in cold blood in the middle of her concert. Her assailant, her former PA Steve Harrison after going on the run. Was finally apprehended. Not by police, but some loyal fans of the rockstar herself. Let’s get in touch with Bobby whose live at the scene where the assault took place. Bobby.”

The screen split to an elderly man and the name Robert “Bobby” Johnson came on the screen.

“Thank you Natalie. It was right here at the corner of 34th and 33rd street when a group of men recognized Steve Harrison from the news. Reports say that the group of 7 boys jumped Steve and proceeded to beat him till almost consciousness. It took about 5 minutes for police to finally arrive. When asked about why these men attacked him, this is what they had to say.”

The screen altered to a young black man with dreads, he had the makings of a beard starting to come around his chin, up to his face.  He looked to be about Jack’s age and he spoke in a low tone as his name read William Henderson.

“The Rock Angel is life man. She practically saved me through some tough sh*t in my life. And to hear this coward did what he did, he didn’t deserve to be walking the streets the way he did.” Another boy appeared on screen.  This time he was white with blue eyes and blonde hair and the name Harvey Davidson came up on the screen.  His accent was a heavy Bronx tonality as he said.

“Even though she’s from England, (Y/n) Kline was born and made here in New York. I remember when I saw her very first concert when she came up with Queen.”

“No a**hole messes with the Rock Angel! You mess with the Angel you mess with New York!” another black boy named Erik Woodson proclaimed.

“You mess with her, you mess with all of us!” Harvey came back on screen.

“Steve Harrison has been taken to a separate hospital from where the Rock Angel is said to recover but will be facing criminal charges. As for the gang that assaulted him, they too were arrested for assault and battery in a public place. But are they guilty? Or are they heroes? More of this to come at News4 tonight at 6pm. Back to you Natalie.”

“Thank you Bobby, coming up next—” at that point Lt. Banks turned the tv off.

“Surprisingly, one of those young gentlemen found it hanging around Steve’s neck. He recognized the ring from her last concert she did in Queens. Told us to make sure she got it back.”

“Seems we know who the real fans are.”

“Roger not now.” Brian scolded softly.

“What’s gonna happen to him now?”

“Well—those boys did a pretty bad number on him. When and if he wakes up, he’ll go to jail and be put on bail. Then of course the trial. We’ll keep in touch with you once all of this goes down.” He handed me his card and bid us a good day.  All was quiet once more before Brian looked at me and he softly said my name.  I shook my head before suddenly finding myself laughing.

“What is wrong with the world? Why did this have to happen to me? Why me? I told him I told that rich, pompous, arrogant, sexist asshole what Steve was doing but did he listen to me? No! He didn’t! Hollywood records doesn’t give a shit! They never did! They hired a fucking sociopath to be my personal assistant and to make matters worse IT WAS HIS FUCKING NEPHEW!!!!”

Tears of anger pooled in my eyes as I angrily tapped my finger against the railing.

“James did this. He didn’t care. He knew he must’ve known his nephew was like that. Why else would he easily give him the job as my personal assistant. I should never have signed up with Hollywood records. I never should’ve left EMI. I should never have come to America. I should never have become the Rock Angel!”

“Don’t say that (y/n).” Jack tried to calm me down.

“No, no, no! NOOO!! Had I never been famous this-this-this-this shhhhh SHIT! Would’ve never happened!” I stammered angrily.  He stroked down my arm comfortingly.

“Baby calm down.”

“No you don’t tell me to calm down! I may never walk again Jack! Did you know that?! Yeah Dr. Hamilton said there’s a 50-50 chance of me being paralyzed. Who in the hell would want to see a handicapped Rockstar!? HMM! Tell me that Jack Kline! In fact who would want to be married to a handicapped Rockstar!? You’ll leave me, you’ll all leave me just like everybody else in my FUCKING LIFE!!”

At this point I was going crazy.  I may not have known it then, but my kids were starting to get so scared of how I was acting, Deacy had to take my kids out of the room while Brian ran to find a nurse or doctor.  Both Jack and Roger tried to calm me down but I was literally going—well exorcism crazy.

It wasn’t until a nurse came in with a needle and poked it into my veins before I suddenly stopped my rage fit and passed out.

*3rd Person POV*

After she collapsed onto her bed, Jack took his wife’s hand and clutched it between both of his.

“The sedative should keep her asleep for the rest of the day.” She said to them as she took the needle out of her arm.

“Thank you.” Brian thanked her.  She nodded before leaving the room.

“I’m just thankful the bastard’s finally been caught.” Roger said. “I’ll agree with one of those boys.  He did not deserve to walk down the streets of New York after shooting my daughter and wearing her wedding ring around his neck like some prize he won at a fucking carnival!”

“That’s only half of good news to this whole shit show. Already the British media are just as fueled up by this just as they were when Freddie died. The same arsehole who trashed Freddie’s name as well as many others who died of AIDS calling it their form of suicide. He’s called (y/n) out as a woman looking for trouble. Like she asked for this to happen.” Brian snapped.

Jack shook his head angrily as he stared out the window before suddenly trudging out of the room.

“Jack?”

“Jack where are you going? Jack!” Roger called out.  But the young man didn’t answer.  All that was going through Jack was anger and rage.

Roger and Brian looked at each other confused but they chose to stay with (Y/n) thinking that Jack needed some air, after hearing what the British tabloids were saying about his wife.

*My POV*

I woke up the next day (at least I hoped it was the next day) and saw Roger and Brian sleeping in the hospital chairs.  I softly smiled at them and said softly.

“Morning guys.”

“Hey love, you’re awake. You okay now?” Brian asked me as he and Rog both woke up.

“Little funny. Now was I dreaming? Or did that bitch stab me in the fucking arm?” I croaked out.  The two of them laughed softly.

“No (y/n). She gave you a sedative. You—went a little bonkers last night.” Brian said as he stroked the side of my cheek.  I turned to my dad and said.

“How bad was I?”

“On a scale, I’d say you were all of Motley Crüe mixed in with 20 beers and maybe a little bit of heroine.”

“That bad huh? Were—were the kids…..” they didn’t answer me. Then again they didn’t have to, the sympathetic looks on their faces told me all. “Oh god. I—I’m sorry guys. I—I need my babies here, I need to apologize to them on my behavior. I didn’t mean to scare them.”

“We know lovie, we know.” Dad cooed as he brushed his fingers through my hair.

“Where’s Jack?” I asked.

“We don’t know. He just…..walked out and we haven’t heard from him.”

“He’s not at the hotel? With the kids?” I asked frantically.

“Calm down love I’m sure he just—needed to go on a long walk. Think this whole thing through. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” Brian soothed me as he rubbed my shoulder.

“Mrs. Kline, we’re here with your breakfast and some medicine. Mr. May, Mr. Taylor I’m afraid I’m gonna have to ask you both to please leave the room since we had allowed you both to stay overnight.”

“We understand. Thank you for letting us stay though Nurse Williams. We greatly appreciate it.” Brian said.  She smiled and nodded.  Brian looked down at me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “He’ll come back love, just give him some time.” After he left, dad came up and cupped the side of my face.

“I’ll be back tonight to check in on you.” I thanked him and he kissed my forehead before giving me an Eskimo kiss before he followed behind Brian.

The entire day went by and the weather soon changed from cloudy to pouring down rain.  It was around 7pm and Nurse Williams had just brought in my dinner for the night and there was still no word from Jack.  I was starting to get frantic with worry, that was until the door opened and coming in dripping wet was Jack.

His face completely soulless and hard as he stood there dripping wet from his head to his soaked shoes.

“Jack? What the f—where the hell have you been?!” he looked up at me.  His trance-like state broken as he said.

“I—went for a walk. A long, long, long walk.”

“And what you just stayed out in the rain for the past seven hours?! You could get sick!”

“I’ll change and take a warm shower when I get back to the hotel. This whole thing it’s just been……” he sighed heavily as he lowered his head.  My anger at him soon faded away as I relaxed and let out a soft sigh.

“Come here my love.” He looked up at me, his broken eyes staring right into mine as I reached out to him.  He walked up to me and took my hand.  I clenched his and brought it close to my face and kissed the back of his hand, as well as his knuckles.

I then looked up at him and he slowly leaned down and captured my lips with a kiss.  The kiss slowly got deeper and more passionate as Jack cupped both sides of my face.  His tongue peeking out and asking for entrance, which I granted to him.

My heart monitor was starting to escalate as I moved my hands down from his neck, down his chest and even lower to his stomach.  Once I reached his hips I felt something.

“Jack…..are you—really this turned on now?” I asked between our kisses.  It was at that moment he stopped and turned his head away from me.  His face back to being grim and his eyes cold and harsh.

“No. That’s not it.” His voice was low, almost threatening. At this point, I was getting nervous.

“Then what is that?” I asked him.  He moved his shirt aside and I saw the familiar lining of a curved, steel handle.

“It’s a gun.”

What? He got a gun? And he brought it in here?!

“Jack are you out of your fucking mind? What are you doing bringing something like that in here!?” I snapped at him.  He separated from me and his only response was.

“For protection.” I lay my head back against the pillow as I rolled my eyes.

“Jack. What do you think it’s gonna be that easy to just go and shoot somebody?!”

“Ask Steve that question.” He told me.  He turned and slowly walked away but not before completely punching my dinner tray and knocking the stand down to the floor. The food scattered everywhere, the plates fell and the tray flew across the room as Jack pinched the edge of his nose as he now stood a few feet away from the foot of my bed.  I stared blankly at what had just happened.

“You know they only give you 2 course meals here right?”

“God everything is a damn joke to you isn’t it!?” Jack snapped at me as he breathed heavily. “Steve almost killed you! He makes you flip out and then the next minute you’re treating it like a fucking joke!?!?” he roared at me.  I adjusted myself in the bed and told Jack in a low, firm tone.

“You don’t think I’m pissed Jack, hmm? Having that 50-50 chance that I may become paralyzed. Or having to live with the fact that if you hadn’t thought fast the way you did I would be with Freddie? My parents? Letting our kids grow up with the same trauma I had to go through growing up. You don’t think that I wanna walk out of this bed and get Steve for—”

“WELL HE’S NEVER GONNA TOUCH YOU AGAIN! CAUSE IT WON’T EVER HAPPEN AGAIN! NOT TO MY FAMILY!” Jack yelled.

“Love. My darling I know you’re scared. But these are scary times. The world’s changing and becoming a lot scarier than it was when we were kids. But it’s our job as parents to ensure that our kids don’t follow down that road.”

“Well they already got involved. Steve didn’t even care that our kids were at that concert. And with this, I’m gonna ensure that people like him never go that far again with you.” he said as he showed me the gun again.

“Okay. Then you are no better than Steve or anyone else out there in the world that solves problems with only bullets.” I lectured him. Jack looked away from my gaze, he was silent for a moment before he said.

“Look I didn’t come for a lecture. I came to check on my wife and see how she was doing.” He and I had a stare off before he grumbled. “I’m outta here.”

“Jack.” I called out to him as he stood before the door. He stopped before he could even open it up but his hand was right on the handle. “If you walk out of here with that thing, consider yourself erased from this family. The kids almost lost one parent because of that thing Jack Kline. Our babies almost lost their mother I WON’T LET THEM LOSE THEIR FATHER TOO!!!” I yelled at him.

The room was dead silent between us.  Jack slowly turned towards me.

“Now give me the gun Jack.” I said as I extended my hand out. “THEY NEARLY LOST THEIR MOTHER I WON’T LET THEM LOSE THEIR FATHER TOO!!” I repeated back to him.  Slowly Jack released his hand from the door and walked up to me silently.  He stood there, his eyes harsh and cold but I looked back at him with just as much ferocity.

He lifted his shirt and took out the gun which ended up being a double action revolver.  He wordlessly placed the gun in my hand before he looked at me with a look of defeat and walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

As I sat there holding the revolver in my hand I brought it close shaking my head as I opened it up.  My heart broke into a million pieces as I turned it over and all six rounds of bullets came falling onto the bedsheet.  

I closed it back up and dropped the gun by my side and held my hands to my face as I softly cried.

[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]