I just… I’m looking for somebody called kittendiamore in AO3? Like… i noticed They disappeared like a year ago and I got worried.
Hoping you’re alright.
This is so sweet!!! I’m doing great, baby, just not writing tonnes at the moment ❤️❤️❤️❤️
I just want you to know that I think about From Eden at least once a week and I've lost count of how many times I've reread it. If you ever wanna share what comes next amd what other ideas you had for that universe i'm here to listen op 👀
Thank you, I love you! When I first wrote that fic, I had two other parts (at least) that I wanted to go with it, and since they’re partially written I’m happy to share those bits with you:
From Eden Part 2
“It’s just unfair, you know,” the girl said. Her words were slightly slurred. To be fair, they were in a nightclub after midnight. Everyone was slurring. “I was there for him, and I paid his bills while he went through college and now! He has a real job and he dumped me for his secretary.” She started sobbing.
Damen, who was six foot three, strongly built, and also carrying a loaded weapon, took her hands and made a sympathetic noise. “Lykaios,” he said, because he –unlike Laurent– had actually listened when she’d introduced herself. “I think the best thing for you now is to forget about him. He didn’t deserve you.”
Lykaios sniffled. “You think so?”
“Of course I do,” Damen said. “I’ve only known you for a few minutes and I already can see that you’re incredible. Right, babe?”
“Right,” Laurent deadpanned. He glanced at his watch. “It’s quarter to.”
Damen nodded. Still holding Lykaios’ hands, he turned to Laurent. “Security?”
“Just the two.”
“Great.” He looked back to Lykaois. “Listen, doll, we’ve got to get down to business, but I want you to remember what I said, okay? You’re worth a lot more than that guy gave you. And your mascara is running a little. Maybe you should go fix it up in the bathroom and wipe your tears?”
“Okay,” Lykaois sniffed. “Thank you.” She left.
Damen gave Laurent a grin, the crooked, teeth-baring one that appeared whenever they were about to do a job. “Ready?”
“You never call me doll.”
“Do you want me to?”
“Try it sometime and see.”
Damen yanked him in by the jacket and kissed him, slowly and bordering on indecent. “Alright,” he said, after he pulled back. “Show time.”
As Damen disappeared into the crowd, Laurent grasped his –still full– drink, turned, and threw its contents at the roughest looking guy in the place.
“Hey, what the hell?” The guy squared his shoulders; he was intimidating even covered in lemonade.
“Fuck you,” Laurent replied.
At this point, three months of travelling and stealing and, most importantly, Damen, Laurent had become pretty efficient at inciting fights. He didn’t need to see the punch coming to know that it was, he just sidestepped and let the man stumble into the back of another patron. It took less than thirty seconds before half the clientele were involved in an all out brawl.
The two security guards rushed in, and were immediately overwhelmed enough that the only bartender – a youngish lad with a crooked nose – had to join in to get everything under control. Laurent punched him.
Eventually, the fight got calmed down enough for fingers to point to Laurent and the lemonade clad man as the inciters, and guards hauled them both out into the parking lot.
“Let me go!” Lemonade guy yelled. “I’ll fucking kill him.”
“You can try,” Laurent said, a lot more willing to be subdued by the guard that had him by the arms.
“Don’t make us call the police, man,” his guard complained. “The both of you can go your separate ways, come on.”
The door behind them opened.
“Sweetheart,” Damen said, chidingly. “I step away for two minutes and you get yourself into trouble.”
They go back to a motel after this and Damen reveals the money he stole from the tills while Laurent was being a distraction. Sexy times ensue. Damen eventually falls asleep and Laurent stays awake with the tv on. The news comes on and an interview is shown with Lykaios being interviewed about the robbery at the bar – she gives a completely inaccurate description of what Damen looked like, and Laurent reflects on how easy it is for Damen to charm people to taking his side.
From Eden Part 3
Their most recent car was a much older model. The aircon was busted and they had to wind down the windows themselves, but at least the radio worked. It was hot, despite it being a couple of hours past sunset.
Damen was singing with the radio. He wasn’t going to win any awards, but his voice was deep and he had a nice enough sense of the music. He grinned at Laurent. He was always happy. It was part of what made him so magnetic.
Laurent smiled back. After two years with Damen, the expression felt natural.
Except for them, the road was empty. Damen reached over and took Laurent’s hand in his.
“Watch the road,” Laurent said.
Damen laughed. “But you’re my favourite view.”
“I won’t be happy if you kill us in a car wreck.”
Obediently, Damen looked back to the road. And then, because it was Damen, the car sped up.
Laurent’s hair flew about chaotically, longer than it had ever been when his uncle had been keeping a hand of Laurent’s appearance. It needed a trim, but as much as Laurent trusted Damen, he didn’t trust him to do that. Damen had offered to take him to a salon, somewhere quiet where there was no chance he’d be recognised, but Laurent wasn’t fond of the idea of being trapped in a chair like that. He was too used to freedom by now.
“Left here,” Laurent instructed.
They’d had to slow down once the got near the town. It was best to avoid anyone’s attention for as long as possible. (An admittedly difficult feat when traveling with someone like Damen).
They drove a little way past the house, until they found an obscure little dirt road to park down. It wouldn’t do for someone to see the car. They grabbed their things, and looped back to the house on foot.
Quietly, Damen was still singing.
“Stop it,” Laurent said.
“You love it,” he replied. “This is your birthday present, baby, at least look like you’re having fun.”
“This is literally the worst place we could get caught.”
“No it isn’t,” Damen replied. “I checked out the police station last time I was here. Breaking out of the cells would be too easy.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“There were no lights on when we drove by. No one is home.”
That was true. And they’d timed it perfectly, assuming schedules hadn’t changed in the last two years. The house was silent when they got to it, not a light in sight as promised.
Laurent took a deep breath.
“Chin up,” Damen said. “Let’s go rob your uncle.”
The spare key wasn’t where uncle used to keep it, so they went around the back and Damen fucked with the lock until it opened. It was almost hard to walk into the house, full of so many bad memories, except it had never truly been Laurent’s home and he could just tell himself this was another job.
“The study,” Laurent said, leading the way.
They crept up the stairs together, torches on their lowest settings.
The study was a formidable room with the big, mahogany desk, and the shelves of books that existed solely to make visitors feel stupid. “Look at this,” Laurent said, pulling out one of the books. “War and Peace in Russian. He doesn’t even know Russian.”
Damen reached past him, and nonchalantly, tipped a stack of books off the shelf. They clattered noisily onto the floor. “Oops,” Damen said. He turned away. “Where’s the safe?”
“Under the desk,” Laurent replied. He was busy searching through the books, finding any early editions to pilfer. They’d probably be able to sell them to an antique store for a bit of quick cash.
Damen worked away at the safe for a bit, guessing potential codes Laurent had told him about. “None of these are working, sweetheart.” The safe made a beeping noise. “Oh, wait. Got it. Wow, he really deserves to be robbed.”
“I’m sure he thought I’d never come back here.”
Damen made a vaguely angry noise. He didn’t like reminders of what had happened to Laurent in this house. He’d even tried to convince Laurent that they could just murder his uncle while they were here. Laurent wasn’t sure he wanted to add cold-blooded murder to their repertoire just yet though. However tempting.
Damen stood up, suddenly. Hands full of Laurent’s uncle’s emergency cash. He grinned.
“Happy birthday - to - you,” he crooned.
Laurent couldn’t help it. He laughed. “I love you, you beautiful fucking bastard.”
Abandoning the books, Laurent moved in and kissed him. Carefully, Damen put the money down on the desk so that he could cup Laurent’s face in his hands. It was always intoxicating to kiss Damen. There was something about him that made Laurent forget himself until there was only the press of their lips.
“I love you too,” Damen whispered, pulling back a little. He’d stopped smiling; it was a moment of complete genuine emotion. He did that sometimes, always out of the blue, and it always made Laurent want to clutch him tighter and maybe cry.
“Let’s finish up here,” Laurent said, “and then we can go find somewhere nice and fuck under the stars.”
“You always know just what to say to seduce me,” Damen said.
They bagged the money, and the books Laurent had picked, and then they made their way down the stairs again.
“Wait,” Damen said.
“I’m hungry.” He turned into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Oh hey, chocolate.”
Actually, that was an idea. Laurent followed him into the kitchen and went straight for the pretentious temperature controlled wine fridge. “Pinot noir or Shiraz?”
“Whatever is more expensive,” Damen replied. He was adding strawberries and oranges to the bag as well. Cream?”
“It’ll go warm too fast.”
“I feel like we should unplug the fridge before we go, at least,” Damen added. “If you’re still against me putting bleach in the milk.”
“Wouldn’t that make it curdle?”
Damen shrugged. “I don’t know. I had a cement mixer in a bar once but that was lime juice.”
“You can unplug the fridge. If he dies from food poisoning, that’s on him.”
Damen started to look for the cord to the fridge.
“Wait,” Laurent whispered. “Did you hear that?”
They froze, listening.
There it was. The soft sound of the stairs creaking. Fuck. Silently, Laurent gestured towards the back door. Damen nodded. He was carefully reaching over to the knife stand.
“Renaud?” came a small voice.
A young boy, no more than thirteen, stepped into the kitchen. He was wiping at one eye sleepily in a childlike gesture. Less childlike were the bruises on his arms. Laurent knew he and Damen had matching expressions of horror.
The boy’s eyes widened as he took them in. “Who are you?” he said.
Damen’s expression was one of barely concealed fury. He looked at Laurent. “I’m not leaving until that man is in a shallow grave.”
“Don’t scare the boy,” Laurent admonished. He turned to the child and tried to look as non-intimidating as a late-night home invader could possibly look. “What’s your name?”
“Are you Renaud’s friends?” The boy asked.
“No,” Laurent said. “Definitely not. I’m Laurent.”
The boy was frowning. “You used to live here.”
“Well,” he straightened up, suddenly hostile. “You’re not allowed to come back. He doesn’t want you anymore; I’m better.”
“Where are your parents?” Damen asked.
“We’re not giving him back to parents who-”
“They’re dead,” the boy said. He didn’t sound upset.
The boy is obviously Nicaise. They hear a car in the driveway and Laurent locks Nicaise in the pantry. Laurent’s protective instinct rears up and he insists they kill the uncle now. Damen is fully down for it. Murder ensues. They let Nicaise out and keep him away from finding out that the uncle is dead in the next room. They tell Nicaise to pack a back and discuss what to do with him. Damen suggests dropping him off at a hospital or somewhere like that where someone can get help for him (since they can’t exactly go to the cops).
Nicaise overhears and says that he doesn’t want to have a new foster parent; at least his current one has a big house. Laurent hearing that feels too wary to risk Nicaise getting another bad household. Damen is like, well I guess we can keep him if you want??? Laurent agrees. They go get in the car and drive away.
Anyway this AU was directly inspired by the film clip for Hozier’s ‘From Eden’, you should watch it bc that’s the story I intended to write
Hi, so I love your writing and your obviously not currently writing for captive prince anymore or even just for now (would love you to come back but that’s me) and as your writing got me into CP I was wondering if you were writing for anything else/ another fandom as I would love to read some of it if you were. Thank you. X
This message is so nice and I love you! At the moment, I’m not writing anything; but if I do, I’ll definitely post it on my ao3!!
Hey! Really hope that your okay, your tumblr hasn’t had a new post in a while. I used to come here daily and really miss being able to interact with you and your thoughts & writings. But that’s not why I’m here today. I suppose I’m just worried about you, I hope your doing okay and that life isn’t treating you terribly. Noticed you changed your picture to an non-personal one & really hope that doesn’t mean your gone for good. Even if you don’t come back to the Capri fandom I’d still follow you❤️
Thank you, that;s so nice. Sorry for taking so long to reply to this! I am doing fine <3 <3 This blog is a side-blog and I’m still using my main, so you can always feel free to message me here and I’ll still see the messages even if I’m not actively posting here all the time.
The pygmalion fic is literally the best thing and I love it and I love you.
I love you too and I’m glad you enjoyed it <3
Hi! I hope you’re well and safe in these crazy times. I saw your update that your not feeling Capri which of course is totally fine. As someone who totally love your writing I will actually follow you anywhere so my humble ask is if you’d mind letting us know if you start writing something else?
Thank you, that’s so sweet. I hope you’re doing well too <3. If I write something else eventually, then I’ll be sure to put it up on my ao3 for anyone who is interested. This is such a lovely message, thank you so much.
I’m still on tumblr. I’ve written over 220,000 words of capri fic in the last 3 ½ years; it’s not really doing anything for me anymore so for the time being at least I am taking a break.
I miss you!!! I miss your Capri contributions!!! I miss your stories!!! I miss you headcanons!!! I miss your tumblr!!! Why are you and a bunch of other amazing Capri blogs going so quiet 😭 has the love for lamen and more just gone? And from you and everyone else all at the same time? My heart breaks to think I won’t read anymore of your work for laurent/ damen and Laurent/ nikandros. I hope you’ll come back one day and bring everyone else with you.
Thanks for the nice words! I’m just not feeling it at the moment, my dude.
hi there! I'm remembering a captive prince fic that I loved but I'm not sure exactly what it was or who wrote it. there's a scene where nicaise survives and comes to find laurent and then cries in his arms. did you write that one? thanks!
I’m afraid I’ve never written a proper nicaise lives fic and haven’t read any recently enough to remember a scene like that, babe. Maybe someone else here can help you?
Hey! Have you read goldencuffs nikandros/laurent sugar daddy au yet? Its crazy good, I feel like it would be right up your ally ;D
Honestly, you’re mvp for coming here to let me know! I read it but very quickly because I saw it right before I started work; it’s very good though!!
Hey resident heartbreaker
I am genuinely delighted to be called that hahahaha.
I’ve seen other people talk about it, but I wanted to do it too. :-\
I wanted to do every name, but there were too many. Please inform me if any information is inaccurate.
Damianos (Damen) - Both names are derived from the Greek damazo, meaning “to tame”. The alternate spelling of Daimen also has the meaning of “gentle”.
Nikandros - Means “victory of a man”. Derived from the Greek nike and andros, meaning “victory” and “of a man” respectively. Nike was also the Greek goddess of victory.
Makedon - Makedon, also spelled Macedon or Makednos, was the ancestor of the ancient Macedonians and said to be a son of Zeus. Derived from the Greek makednos meaning “tall, slim”.
Pallas - Means both “to brandish” and “maiden”. Pallas is one of the epithets of the goddess Athena, supposedly given to her after she slayed a giant of the same name.
Kastor - Means “to excel” or “to shine”. The mythological Castor was a son of a Spartan king and the twin half-brother of Pollux, the son of Zeus.
Jokaste - Derived from the Greek Iokaste, which is of unknown meaning. In Greek mythology, Jocasta was the wife and mother of King Oedipus.
Erasmus - Derived from the Greek erasmios, meaning “beloved”.
Isander - Derived from the Greek isos, meaning “equal”, and andros, meaning “of a man”.
Theomedes - Possibly created by Pacat. Derived from the Greek theos, meaning “god”, and medomai, meaning “to think, to plan”.
Egeria - Derived from either the Greek aigeiros, meaning “black poplar”, a type of tree, or the Latin egerere, meaning “to bring out”. In Roman mythology, Egeria was a famous nymph who pregnant women offered sacrifices to in order to “bring out the baby”.
Hypermenestra - Comes from the mythological figure of Hypermnestra, one of the fifty danaides, the daughters of King Danaus. She was the only danaid not to kill her husband, as he had wished her to remain a virgin.
Adrastus - Traditionally translated as “inescapable”. Also spelled as “Adrestus”.
Lykaios - Comes from the Greek Lykaia, a festival held on the slopes of Mt. Lykaion (“Wolf Mountain”) in Greece. Zeus uses the epithet Lykaios, meaning “wolf-Zeus”.
Euandros - Derived from the Greek eu, meaning “good”, and andros, meaning “of a man”.
Eradne - Possibly created by Pacat. A similar name, Ariadne, belonged to a Cretan princess in Greek mythology who was abandoned by the hero Theseus and wived by the god Dionysus. Derived from the Greek ari, meaning “most”, and adnos, meaning “holy”.
Agar - Greek version of the Hebrew name “Hagar”. Possibly means “flight”.
Kydippe - Variation of “Cydippe”. Earliest source and meaning of the name are unknown.
Treus - Derived from the Greek treo, meaning “to fear, to dread, to flee from fear”.
Thestos - Possibly created by Pacat. Similar to “Thestius”, which is derived from the Greek theos, meaning “god” and esthein, meaning “to eat”.
Timon - Derived from the Greek timao, meaning “to honor, to esteem”.
Nekton - Derived from the Greek nekhein, meaning “to swim”.
Arsaces - Hellenized form of the Old Persian “Arshaka”. Possibly a diminutive of arsha, meaning “bear”, or arshen, meaning “male”.
Nisos - Variant of Nisus. Meaning unknown.
Inachtos - Comes from Inachos, the first king of Argos. Cannot locate definition.
!!!!!!!! idek if this is ask is meant for me but as someone who genuinely loves the movie (not so much the book lol) i can get on board with this!!
also……on a completely different note….i actually have a wip that is heavily inspired by call me by your name. it takes place in summer, features postgrad damen who is helping out professor aleron, and laurent who is very smitten with damen and his muscles. here is a snippet from it (aka the only part that is semi edited):
Thank you! It’s nice to know I’m worth a reread hahahaha! I’m glad you enjoyed <3
The Canon-era Love at First Sight AU - Damen/Laurent (pt1)
There were tales, recorded in old story books and turned into poetry for slaves to sing, about love. Not the usual kind of love, the kind that husbands found for wives or mothers for their children, but a burning sort of love. True love. Love at first sight. The idea of eyes meeting for the first time and setting hearts aflame with longing and the sole, undeniable truth that they were meant for each other eternally.
Damen thought these tales were boring.
“Are you serious?” Kastor asked, when Damen requested a slave play one of his favourite ballads – about death and victory and war, a King triumphant. “This is the third time this week.”
“It’s a good song,” Damen replied.
Kastor sipped his wine, eyebrows raised.
Damen’s lack of interest in romance didn’t mean that he was without lovers. There were women – and occasionally, men – who joined him in bed and they never had any complaints that some ridiculous emotion wasn’t there.
It wasn’t like Damen didn’t think love was a thing; he had stood next to his closest friend, Nikandros, when he had made his vows to the Vaskian warrior woman that had bested him in a fight and subsequently won his heart, and he would have never denied that they adored each other. It was just that beyond mild infatuations that never lasted longer than a few months, Damen had never felt it.
Besides, Damen thought, as he and Kastor stood in the courtyard, waiting to welcome Prince Laurent of Vere to their Kingdom. It wasn’t as if love was at all likely for royalty. Prince Laurent himself, who was rumoured to be very pretty, had been engaged since childhood to Prince Torveld of Patras. Laurent would be married next year, when he reached his age of majority, to a man he had barely met, and that would surely work out fine for them.
“Perhaps I should have a marriage arranged,” Damen contemplated.
Kastor snorted. “Are you having trouble meeting women, brother?”
“It would just be easier, wouldn’t it? We could have some heirs and I could still–”
“Fuck whoever you want?”
There was a pause. “Well,” Damen said.
Kastor laughed. His wife had given birth a couple of months ago, so of course this was no longer an issue he considered. Their son was really small and also kind of adorable, and Damen had held him and thought, I love you, but also, Thank goodness you aren’t mine. He wasn’t ready for that sort of thing yet.
Finally, the gates opened and in came the Veretian retinue. For his twentieth name day, Prince Laurent had apparently requested to be allowed to travel to Ios for a few months, to see their renowned library, as his gift. If Damen didn’t already have his opinions on Veretians, this would have made him lose any potential excitement at meeting a fellow prince. Laurent was doubtless to be a boring, bookish little creature.
Damen looked across the courtyard. The man in front was dismounting elegantly from his horse. He was fairly tall – for a Veretian – and his hair was paler than any Akielon could hope to achieve even with the help of buckets of lemon juice. His laced riding boots were heeled slightly, and hugged up along his shapely calves, ending just below his knee. He was slim but his shoulders were broad.
Prince Laurent, for surely someone this finely made could only be royalty, raised his head and looked straight at Damen. Their eyes met.
Damen took a step forward, without thinking.
“What are you doing?” Kastor asked, eyebrow raised.
“I just,” Damen cleared his throat. “I think I’m dizzy?”
Laurent was approaching them, even the way he walked was lovely to behold. He bowed to them. “Hello,” he said, voice firm. “I am Prince Laurent of Vere. You have my gratitude for allowing me to visit your fine kingdom.”
There was a moment of too long silence while Damen, bereft of words, said nothing.
“You are most welcome, brother of Vere,” Kastor finally said for him. “I am Prince Kastor, and this is Crown Prince Damianos.”
Damen: Nik, I’ve got everything under control, I’ve made an alliance with the Prince of Vere, which was very clever entirely impersonal political decision-making on my part
Laurent: *walks into the room being blonde, sexy and arrogant*
Nikandros, who knows Damen very well:
hahahaha as great an idea as it is, i cant currently think of a single plot line for it or else i would be totally down RIP
My new Captive Prince fic ‘Cherry Wine’ is now available to read on AO3 here!
This fic is rated Explicit and has 1 chapter out for 12(?). Enjoy!