#Damen gray

[its-rat-time-babey]

Danny isn’t the only ghost in Amity Park with living relatives, and all of them have various feelings about their living family members.

Walker is the grandfather of Maddie Fenton and Danny’s great grandfather. He mostly doesn’t care at all about his granddaughter however because of the seriously biased views the Fentons have towards ghosts. In his mind, as long as the Fentons treat ghosts like chaotic evil monsters and continue with their anti-ghost research, he has no granddaughter. He’s also fully accepted that Maddie will never accept the fact that her grandfather is still walking the earth, and will just shoot him on sight if he approaches her and claims to be John Walker.

He does eventually grow to accept Danny however, and eventually agrees to stop trying to arrest him in exchange for Phantom continuing to capture particularly dangerous ghosts as a form of “community service”.

Kitty is the older sister of Damen Gray and is Valerie Gray’s aunt, even though Valerie was born long after she had died. Kitty is fiercely protective of Damen, just as she was in life, but that protectiveness doesn’t extend to the Red Huntress. Valerie’s hatred of ghosts and relentless hunts have made Kitty resent her niece a bit, and she won’t hesitate to fight her if the need arises. That being said, Valerie was under Kitty’s protection before she became the Huntress and Kitty would be willing to go back to protecting her if Valerie ever overcame her hatred of ghosts.

However, neither Damen or Valerie are aware of Kitty’s relation to them, or the fact that she protects them from other ghosts. Kitty really doesn’t want to tell her brother that she’s still wandering around after death for many different reasons and Valerie probably wouldn’t believe her anyways.

Ember McLain and Youngblood are siblings and still have living parents, but both of them stay far away from them. In Youngblood’s case, it’s because he doesn’t remember them. He doesn’t know that he has living parents at all. He doesn’t even know that Ember is his sister. He just doesn’t remember his life.

In Ember’s case, it’s because she absolutely hates them. Back when she was alive, she ended up running away from home, which was the beginning of a series of events that led to her burning to death in a hotel room. She is also aware that Youngblood is her brother, but she doesn’t think she’s ready to tell him yet. Plus she thinks that it’s probably for the best that neither of them see their parents again.

#danny phantom #headcanons #Walker #Kitty #ember mclain #youngblood #Maddie Fenton #valerie gray #Damen gray #ghosts that want to mess with Damen Gray have a big storm coming #because they gotta deal with the Red Huntress protecting her father and Kitty protecting her brother #plus Phantom protecting Amity Park if he shows up

[aryriddle]

It breaks my heart that, even if Damen and Laurent have the longest, most peaceful and prosperous reign in history, they’re not immune to the passing of time.

I imagine Damen will be the first to go, peacefully in his bed after he’s too weak to carry on, holding Laurent’s hand and smiling because his heart is so full of love and joy.

I imagine Laurent (old and gray and still so beautiful) will be solemn, and arrange a funeral fit for a god. He will then quietly focus on work, tending to the kingdom/empire’s affairs, ensuring all will be well, tidying up unfinished business.

I imagine he will retire to his empty bed one night, and not rise in the morning. He will go peacefully in his sleep, his hand resting on Damen’s empty side of the bed, with a smile on his face because his husband and his brother were waiting for him.

#captive prince #laurent of vere #damen x laurent #damen of akielos #damianos of akielos #laurent captive prince #damen captive prince #cs pacat #lamen #auguste of vere #headcanon

[deripmaver]

Griffith, Sex, and Power

Feat. a brief special guest: Laurent of Vere from Captive Prince (spoilers, and of course canon typical content warnings for both Berserk and Capri)!

Ok time for a complete 180 from all my Berserk meta posts so far hahahah. Probably this is one that’s been made before, but I wanted to take a crack at it possibly from a different angle than before. This’ll be just sort of a ramble, no panels ‘cause those panels make me sad and I don’t want to go looking for them.

In CS Pacat’s Captive Prince, Laurent of Vere was directly inspired by Griffith from Berserk. Part of what allows the audience to forgive him for the sexual violence he causes Damen is when we learn that said abuse is just being replicated from his own experiences. Laurent has learned by being abused as a teenager that sex and power are intrinsically linked (as he says to Damen, his perception of sex is that it occurs “as a man takes a boy”), and so when the man who killed his brother (and lead to his abuse in the first place by leaving him with his uncle) is put in front of him, the ways he dominates and reasserts power over him come from his own sexual trauma.

It’s not hard to see how this characterization draws from Griffith. As a young teenager, he is given the “choice” (which isn’t really a choice at all) to make money to sustain his dream by winning battles, and thereby sending his followers to their deaths, or by prostituting himself to Gennon. As far as we know with what’s given to us in canon, up until he sleeps with Princess Charlotte this is his only sexual experience - purely transactional, a show of power from those who have it forced upon those who do not have it. 

When Griffith has sex, in Princess Charlotte’s case, or... commits sexual assault, in Casca’s case (twice), it’s not a coincidence it happens at moments where he feels at his lowest and most powerless. It’s ALSO not a surprise that he replicates the dynamics he’s familiar with during these sexual encounters. With Charlotte, he goes to see her to regain a sense of control and authority after Guts leaves, and during that encounter she expresses uncertainty at the beginning, outright saying no before eventually just kind of submitting to it. This encounter I think falls into somewhat of a gray area of fictional consent, because we see ultimately Charlotte happy with it, and thinking only fondly of it in later chapters, but it’s undeniable it’s coercive and considering how the whole thing is framed vs the sex between Guts and Casca is framed, I think the discomfort is intentional. 

Then, of course, with Casca, these encounters are outright sexual assault and rape. Again, it’s not a coincidence that these happen when Griffith is feeling completely shattered, completely without power, at rock fucking bottom. It’s heavily implied that some of Griffith’s torture was sexual in nature, if not outright rape though considering how much rape of women there is in Berserk I’ll forever be pissed as hell that Miura didn’t bother to show any of that happening to an (adult) male character if that is what he intended. 

So now, as far as what’s been shown in canon, Griffith’s sexual experience is underage prostitution, coercive sex with Charlotte, and now possibly rape combined with torture. After this, he assaults Casca in the wagon (only stopping because he physically can’t go through with it due to his injuries) and when he’s able to move again as Femto, rapes her. Rape is fully about power, and to Griffith sex is about power in general, and the eclipse to me is a very clear show from Griffith that he’s the one with power, he’s the one whose will the world bends to, and he needs to reassert that power over everyone. 

As an aside, it’s very interesting to me that in those moments of powerlessness, the people he uses to reassert his own power aren’t the men who have taken from him, but women. I mean, during the eclipse he’s hurting Casca to get at Guts, but like... He doesn’t rape Guts LOL when he easily could. I’m sure most of that is just Miura not wanting to draw sex (even if it’s rape) between adult men, but taking a more meta view, it replicates power dynamics and hierarchies of misogyny and oppression in the real world in an interesting way.

Griffith, as a character, knows what it is to be powerless, and is desperately climbing for more and more power throughout the story of Berserk to never experience that again. However, in doing so, he becomes the same as the oppressive nobles who hurt him, and once you accept that hierarchy it chips away at any intrinsic sense of justice you may have. This hasn’t come up again since his rebirth, but it will be interesting to see what his reaction will be if something happens that does shake his absolute authority over humanity, and what he’ll do about it. I think that moment might be coming up sooner than we expect.

#berserk meta #berserk #captive prince #griffith #Laurent of Vere #we interrupt ur regularly scheduled casca meta etc etd #etc etc

[not-a-coral-snake]

for the @lamenweek Day 3 prompt: Fluff

Today, the afternoon sun is still dappling the carpet with patches of gold when Damen returns to their rooms. He smiles when he sees that Laurent has apparently managed to complete or escape his obligations for the day even earlier than Damen has—he is reading, curled up on one of their window seats where the light is good.

No, not reading, Damen sees as he moves further into the room. “Hello, sunshine,” he says. “What are you working on?”

“Damen!” Laurent says, and Damen sees the way Laurent’s face lights up upon seeing him. “I didn’t expect you back so early.”

“Heston and Philomenon were surprisingly open-minded about tariff policy.” It’s some kind of needlework in Laurent’s hands, and a basket of colored silk thread behind him on the seat. “I didn’t expect to see you back so early either. Is that embroidery?”

“Vannes has been a more valuable addition to the council than I fully anticipated. She has a way of cutting through the others’ long-windiness.”

“Valuable indeed,” Damen says, and settles himself on a sofa near Laurent with a book of Veretian epic poetry.

It is some time later when Laurent says, “My mother taught me.”

“What?”

“To do embroidery. She had no daughters, so she taught me, and Auguste, though he wasn’t much good at it. He didn’t have the temperament—sitting still, making progress bit by bit.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s not for everyone,” Damen says.

“No. I got pretty good at it, though. I’m trying to get back into practice, see?” And here he shows Damen his working. The hoop is an explosion of colors and shapes with no clear pattern, just stitches in a variety of styles, each starting out large and clumsy and growing smaller and more regular.

“It seems like it would be a good way to relax,” Damen says.

“Precisely. Unlike with a book, I can work on this while I think over the days’ events,” Laurent says. “Or think of nothing at all.”

Damen smiles, and picks up his book again, and they sit in silence until the warm fall afternoon light has faded and the time for dinner has arrived.

* * *

A few weeks go by. The days grow darker, until Damen seldom has the chance to finish his duties before dusk. Damen sees Laurent with his stitch-practice a few more times in the first days after the first time, then not at all after that. He doesn’t think much of it—neither of them has much time to themselves, these days.

The days grow shorter still, the weather chills. A tailor arrives with the Veretian-style clothes Laurent had bullied Damen into commissioning months before, in anticipation of the winter weather. The style of the jackets mimics Akielon simplicity and will, Damen supposes, also evoke Laurent’s typical austerity of dress. He thumbs through the pile absently, Jackets and pants mostly in shades of red, some purples and grays and browns. . .

And stops.

There had been for the past couple years a trend at the Veretian court, vastly amplified in popularity by the new Akielon influence in fashion, for a heavier, more decorated shirt for men that could be worn either with a jacket or without. Damen, seeing no need to adhere to Laurent’s tightly-laced sartorial habits, had requested his shirts be made in this way, figuring some unnecessary embellishment was a small price to pay for relative comfort and freedom of movement.

At the bottom of the stack is a white shirt with an abundance of red lions embroidered over cuffs and collars and hems: lions rampant and couchant and passant, fearsome and elegant and worked in the same even hand. But what catches Damen’s eye is a lion a little off-center along the bottom hem, lying in repose and placidly batting a paw at a butterfly, its stitches just a little larger and clumsier than all the rest.

#captive prince #lamen week 2023 #this is also late lol

[therisingkings]

All is Well

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Check it out on Ao3

The dungeons beneath the castle were unpleasant, to say the least. Since the castle was still less than three years old, there were hardly any prisoners. Just a handful of Akielons that had stirred up trouble in Delfeur and were awaiting trial, and the man who Damen faced now.

Upon closer inspection, he was native Veretain. His hair was fiery red, his eyes a dull gray. He wasn’t the one that had stabbed Laurent, but Damen was still instantly filled with rage at the sight of him.

“You will not speak to any of my men,” Damen said as he approached the bars. “But you will speak to me.”

The man looked up, rolling his head back against the cell wall. The right side of his face was swollen where Damen had punched him. He said in Veretain, “We stuck your bed boy good, didn’t we?”

The rage flared up again inside of Damen, and carefully, he managed it. “If you provide me with the details of your plan and the men you work with, I will spare your life.”

That got the man’s attention. “I expected an execution.”

“Then you stabbed the wrong King. Had it been me you stabbed, you would not have been given a shred of mercy.”

“But?”

It was difficult to say. “But I understand that you must have been put in a situation that compelled you to think that killing your King would make your life better. I intend to give you the means to get out of that situation and give you a chance to start your life new, if you provide me with the information I want.” Damen spread his hands, a Veretain gesture he’d learned from Laurent. “Think of it as an exchange.”

The man cocked his head. “And I have your word?”

“You have the word of a King.”

His boots scraped against the stone floor as he adjusted his position. “The Regent saved my family.”

Damen’s gaze flickered to where Nikandros picked his way towards him. He focused back on the assassin.

“It was a year or two after the King and Prince Auguste died. Our village’s trade routes to Patras were cut off when the Akielons took over Delfeur. My father went to plead for help and so the Regent did. He provided us with the funds and connections we needed to begin trading with Vask.

“The others all had similar stories. The Regent was a savior. He was a true King. That child on the throne never deserved his position. He didn’t lift a finger at the border until he was forced to. He is a petulant—”

The man stopped as Nikandros came to stand beside Damen, his arms crossed. 

Damen let the silence push the man. It worked.

“I hope he’s dead. I hope he dies. I don’t care that you are his husband. You will be a better ruler for Vere than him.”

“I appreciate your honesty,” Damen said through his teeth. “But I don’t care about your opinion. Are there more of your group?”

“No. We all had military experience. We thought— we knew it was a suicide mission.”

“How did you get onto the grounds?”

The man laughed. “That was the easy part. Don’t you Akielons say that all Veretains look the same? We left three of your scouts a mile out.”

“Are they alive?”

“Not anymore. We left them tied up to a couple boulders on the beach. The tide would have taken them by now.”

Beside Damen, Nikandros’ jaw flickered with tension. That was a cruel way to kill a man. To leave him lashed to a rock, unable to escape as the waves beat on him until he eventually drowned. 

“Why did you kill them?”

The man shrugged. “Does it matter?”

It didn’t, really. They’d be dead whether the cause was justified or not.

Damen nodded to Nikandros as he stepped back. “I have all the information I need. Kill him.”

“What?” The man lunged for the bars. “You promised you’d let me go!”

Damen didn’t bother to look back as he said, “I lied.”

*****

The next few days were hard. Laurent’s fever climbed until he no longer recognized Damen.

That was the worst of it. Damen came into the room to find Laurent white in the face. 

He said, “Please, tell uncle that I don’t want to do it anymore. Can I go back to my room?”

For this room was befitting of a king, draped in blue and red. It was where the Regent would have stayed, had he still been alive.

Damen knelt beside the bed. Pascal had warned him about this. The fever combined with the sleeping drought Laurent had been taking could lead to confusion and temporary amnesia. 

Damen lifted a hand and Laurent flinched away. He said, “Your uncle is dead, my love. You are King. This is your bedroom.”

Laurent just stared at him. 

Sighing, Damen pushed to his feet. He mixed together some of the crushed willow bark and water Pascal had given to him. “Drink this. It will help you feel better.”

Laurent frowned at the glass. He was shaking slightly and the water sloshed. 

Damen took his wrist, guiding the glass to his lips. To his surprise, Laurent took it, downing the glass slowly. 

“Good,” Damen purred. “That’s it.” 

Once he was done, Damen helped him lay back down. Lifting Laurent’s shirt, he found that the bandages were still clean, which was a good sign. He’d been worried Laurent might have opened his stitches when he sat up on his own. 

Laurent caught his hand when he made to pull away, studying the lines of his palm. “You are… Akielon?”

Damen braced himself. “I am.”

“And you’re married?” Laurent traced his wedding band. “But rings are a Veretain tradition.”

Damen’s heart began to pound. His golden slave cuff was concealed by his sleeve just inches away from Laurent’s fingertips. Laurent’s own cuff was in plain sight, as well as his ring.  Damen wasn’t sure what he remembered, and he didn’t want to freak him out. Laurent was already behaving surprisingly acquiescent, which either meant he didn’t recognize Damen, or didn’t remember that he killed his brother.

Damen said carefully, “I am married to a Veretain.”

Laurent’s eyes were wide and open. “There is peace, then?”

“Yes. Because of you.”

“Me?” Laurent glanced back down at their hands. A long finger traced the lines of Damen’s palm. “I think I… I think I remember now.”

“What do you remember?”

Laurent was silent for a moment, contemplative, and then he pulled back, pushing himself back up. Damen reached to help him, but Laurent practically exploded away from him. He scrambled across the bed, lunging for the knife on the opposite nightstand. 

Damen cursed, but let him slip away. “Laurent,” he said steadily.

Laurent stood on the opposite side of the bed, brandishing the knife. “I don’t know how you got in here—”

“Laurent.”

“But do not expect to leave with your life.”

Damen rounded the bed slowly, hands up as if approaching a wild animal.

“Guards! Guards!” Laurent backed away as Jord burst into the room.

Damen flung out a hand. “He’s fine, Jord.”

Laurent tried to strike Damen with the knife as he neared, cursing at him.

Damen knocked the knife aside. “Do that, and we’ll have two incapacitated rulers.”

Laurent tried to hit him with his fist this time, but his strength failed him. Damen caught him before he could fall and Laurent beat weakly against his chest.

“Are you here to kill me too? One prince wasn’t enough?”

Damen closed his eyes, trapping Laurent in his arms. He said to Jord, “Please, go get Pascal.”

The door clicked shut and they were alone again.

Laurent thrashed. “Let me go. Let me go, you—”

“Laurent, sweetheart, you are going to hurt yourself.” Damen manhandled him as gently as he could back onto the bed, which was hardly gentle at all. He rested his head atop Laurent’s, sighing. “I am your husband.”

That didn’t help. Laurent spat curse words Damen had never even heard of and tried to bite Damen’s hand. After a few more moments of struggle, he stilled, panting. “What do you want from me?” he hissed.

“I want you to get better. You are not yourself.”

Laurent let out a noise that Damen suspected was supposed to be a laugh, but stopped halfway up his throat. 

They sat in silence until Pascal came.

Pascal was angry. “You better not have torn your stitches, you foolish boy.”

Very few people in the two kingdoms could get away with calling King Laurent of Vere a foolish boy, but Pascal had reserved that right from caring for him for most of his life.

Laurent squinted at him. “You are just going to let this Akielon—”

“Silence. Lift his shirt.”

It was easier said than done. Laurent squirmed until Damen had had enough and called Jord back in to help. 

Pascal scrutinized the wound. “You have torn your stitches, so we will have to redo them.” 

“How the fuck do you expect that to happen?” Damen had narrowly avoided being headbutted more than once. 

Pascal put his hands on his hips. “You will have to hold him. You did it before.”

“He didn’t want to kill me before!” 

“Figure it out,” Paschal snapped. “I need to get my tools ready.” 

Laurent looked at Damen like he was about to spit fire in his eyes.

“Don’t make this difficult,” Damen warned as he switched his grip.

Laurent took the opportunity to sink his teeth into Damen’s arm. 

“Motherfucker!” Damen shouted, yanking his arm away. “Jord, help me!”

Together, they got Laurent under control and as still as possible. Damen had to put his knee on Laurent’s chest, using his weight to hold him down, and pinned his arms above his head while Jord held his legs. 

Paschal muttered to himself as he pulled out the old stitches, making Laurent scream. Damen pressed down harder. 

Thankfully, Paschal worked quickly. By the end of it, Laurent was crying, “Let me go. Let me go.”

Paschal and Jord pulled away, the latter with a pale face. Damen eased his weight off slowly and Laurent turned onto his good side, sobbing into his pillow. 

“Maybe it’s best if you leave, Your Majesty.” Paschal packed his things into his bag. “His mind is in a very fragile state and your face likely isn’t helping.” 

“I’m not leaving him,” Damen growled. 

“Damen, look at him.” Jord put a hand on his shoulder.

Damen didn’t want to look. Once more, Laurent’s side was covered in blood and his body shook with his cries. Damen closed his eyes. “Fine, but I want someone to fetch me the moment he’s lucid.” 

“Of course.”

Paschal said to Jord, “I’ll get him something to eat. Stay here.”

Damen went to the other side of the bed as Paschal left. He touched Laurent’s cheek, tucking a stray hair behind his ear. “Will you let me kiss you goodbye?”

Laurent’s blue eyes were bright with fever and shining with tears. He hissed with a vicious coldness that Damen had not heard in a long time, “Do not touch me.”

Damen backed away, nodding to Jord. “I’m serious. You send for me the moment it’s safe.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Jord bowed his head.  

Damen sighed and retreated from the room.

#captive prince fanfic #captive prince #prince's gambit #kings rising #laurent x damen #damen of akielos #damen x laurent #damianos of akielos #laurent #laurent of vere #c s pacat #my fanfiction #captive prince fanfiction

[am-i-late-to-this08]

BROKEN GLASS

DA X DARKIPLIER

My first da x darkiplier fanfiction so be nice 👍

Pt. 1?

Warning: swearing, panic attack, blood

"COME BACK YOU BITCH!" You punch the mirror out of anger, to no avail. "GET ME OUT OF HERE YOU FUCK! GET ME OUT OF HERE! NOW!" Your voice ricochets off the Walls of the mirror. "GET, Get me out." The blood in your ears defining you. "Please, please," You said as your voice faded into a whisper, your legs gave out underneath you and fell to the ground. "Fuck all of you." Tears cascaded down your face onto the tiles beneath. The entry was silent, only the echoes of your voice and damen-celine-mark things footsteps. That godforsaken bitch put you in here, whatever it is now, out there in your body you think? You don't know what happened, or where you are. You don't even know what you are anymore, only that you're stuck in a mirror. Stuck in this entry until someone has use of you.

No sense of time makes everything better. You think. The only thing keeping you sane is the ever increasing sense that one day you'll be useful to someone and get out. Your only purpose now is to watch as the years or centuries pass and wait. You've had a long time to think about what happened, and consider your life choices. All of this makes zero sense, but you know every letter of the books that were kept in the entrance room. The small bookshelf is slim pickings, a Bible, encyclopedia, a thesaurus, Shakespeare's greatest plays, molby Dick, smoke and mirror's (the irony),grimms fairytale and a book in Latin. You pick up molby dick off the coffee table and flip to the bookmarked page, somewhere in the middle. A sound of glass shattering catches your attention, maybe a raccoon or something like that. Instead you see yet another shard fall from the ever disappearing mirror. You fear once the remaining shards fall yet another confusion series of events may occur. "How do I know what I look like?" You ask yourself. After however long you have been in here, you lost any capacity to keep thoughts inside. Not like anyone will hear you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yet another scuffle draws your attention to the outside. "Look how far you've fallen." A smooth voice coos. "I can't believe you're still here. Good God." Damien's tone calls. "You..." I glare at the man before me. His gray skin contrasts with his white tuxedo, lines of blue and red etch him. "... You bitch." He looks you up and down disinterestedly. Dark circles line his eyes, or is it eyeliner? "That's gay." You whisper. His brow furrows. "Pardon?" You laugh. "You're wearing eyeliner. That's gay as hell. Or did Celine do that?" You ask. He simply shakes his head. Red copy's glitch around him as his eyes flash black. "Celine says hello." Your face goes blank. "So, what do you need from me? Wanna steal whatever is left of my soul? I can't think of anything else you can get from me." You grumble. "You always saw through me. I mean us." The last word emphasized by a distortion in his voice. "I need your help." He paused as his face softened. "You're the only person I can trust." Rage contorted your's. "Seriously?" You snort. "After how long? You ask me for help? Why don't you use my body for something useful, like digging a hole and dying in it?" You snap. Before he can respond you turn away as glass cracks underneath your feet. He sighs. "It been ninety four years. I thought you might wanna know." Ninety four years? Shit that's a long time,you think. "How's the colonial? Is he dead?" You ask. " No, he's alright. As alright as he can be, watching you die changed him. Now-now he's fucking insane. Worse than you, and your bad." He adds, avoiding your glare." Thanks." You mutter. "Nothing is going to get better if you stop being so goddamn stubborn all the time." The blue etchings glitch around him, Damien? "Go. Fuck. Yourself." You hiss, he recoils like he's been struck. "Alright." His tone shift's to calm. "Stay in here for the rest of eternity and rot more than you already have. I won't come back, not for a long time." His gaze finally meets yours, no emotion in his eyes. "If you want I can bring you something to pass the time. Or, I can get you out and you can help me. This is your choice." He adjust's his jacket, fidgeting around. " Go. Fuck. Yourself." You hiss again. He shakes his head and breaks contact." I'll come back tomorrow in case you change your mind." He looks you over one last time before walking away.

"Fine, I'll do it. Only if I don't ever come back here." You cracked,the thought of eternity in this place was worse than whatever he had planned you decided. "And this time, I won't be your pawn. I won't be killed ether. Last time it didn't end well." He nods. First thing in the morning he came back, all your rage yesterday disappeared and turned to grief." Do we have a deal? "He purrs, something shift's in his eyes. "Yes. But-how exactly does this work? Will I be possessing anyone?" You asked. Dark shook his head and laughed." No, it's hard to explain but you'll get your old body back. So, don't worry." He explained calmly." Okay, get on with it." You chime. He reached out his hand, his fingers dipping into the inky black in-between of the mirror. You follow his motion. His cold hands contrast with your hot and clamy ones, with a firm tug your hand is pulled through the black. All of a sudden every heartbeat sends waves of needle-like pricks and and pain through your body. You clench your jaw and hiss through the pain, his grip tightens. You feet come off the floor and kneecaps scrape against the remaining shards of glass. Just like it started the pain fades replaced pounding in your head and the stinging in your legs. You opened my eyes which you unknowingly closed. With your eyes glued to the floor you notice the diamond tiles are backward and the way your blood drips on the dusty tile. Once your breathing began to steady you lift your head, dark stood a few inches away with his hand reached out comfortingly. "Thank-thanks." You croaked, his smile brightened. The blood seeped out of the wound on your knees, bits of glass still stuck in your flesh. You looked down at your blood stained white dress pants, the outfit you 'died' in. "You're bleeding." Dark said, hand still in yours. He follows your eyes and pulls back his hand leaving yours cold. "Shit." He swears." What?" You ask, blood still dripping." Let's get you cleaned up, we need to go." He says huridley. " Okay, I doubt there's any clothes or a first aid kit here." You grumble." Right." A tingle goes across your kneecaps and the monotonous dripping stops. You look to see the open wounds close and the bits of glass fall into the puddle of blood. "Since when can you do that?" You blurt. He lifts his head and meets your eyes. "Practice." You scoff at his response.

#idk what im doing #darkiplier #markiplier egos #markiplier #mirror #tw blood #wkm #darkiplier x y/n #darkiplier x reader #who killed markiplier #actor mark #wilford warfstache

[the-limp-linguine]

Thinking abt Damen getting gray hair prematurely- like 5 years after KR and he’s so distraught

Damens head was is Laurent’s lap- his hands running through Damens hair as he read, he looked down a glint of light hair catching his peripheral vision- his hand stoped as he took the few strands in this fingers inspecting them- his body began to shake with laughter, “what?” Damen grunted from his near sleep Laurent Leaned over Damen kissing his forehead, “you my dear brute are going gray” he laughed “what?” Damen sat up- that couldn’t be right- he wasn’t even out of his thirties his father didn’t start graying till the end of his life- “ow” damen was pulled from his thoughts by the pinch of a strand of hair being plucked out , “see? Gray,” Laurent was still giggling- the strand was in-fact was light it looked like it belonged from Laurent’s head rather then his, “love you are becoming old” he continued to tease- damen huffed, “I’ll show you old” Damen pinned Laurent to the bed

-End-

#Captive prince #Damen #Laurent #Let them be happy

[mia-nina-lilly]

First of all, I'm a bookstan 📚 and I'm brazilian 🇧🇷

Fantasy ones are my favorites 🧚🧝🥀

A fan of ACoTaR, but apparently on the opposite side – supporter of Nesta, Eris, Tamlin and Lucien, and not a big fan of IC 🌹🔥

Hufflepuff is my house, but I have one foot in Ravenclaw and the other in Slytherin.

Holly Black is the true queen of teen fantasy, and George R. R. Martin is certainly the king of this genre, with Tolkien practically being a God.

In A Dance with Dragons, maybe Team Green? I still don't know. I certainly love Alicent, but I recognize why Rhaenyra felt betrayed.

Cardan and Jude are the best, and Laurent and Damen are not far behind. In short, I vibe with anything about these four 🐍🗡️👑

I've loved Peeta since the first scene, but Lucy Gray has my heart too.

Never tried to argue with me about SW. One of two: either you leave crying or you will listen to me forever. About Star Trek, I still don't know much about it, but I love Discovery.

Anne Rice introduced me to gothic literature and Lestat is a fucking king. Sorry, Dracula. I love your story, but Lestat is Lestat.

Frankstein, The Phantom of the Opera and The Picture of Dorian Gray and Carmilla have a treasured place on my bookcase.

I've never read Dune or Jules Verne, but they're on my list.

These are the things I'm going to talk about here, so that's it.

I'm in love with the Dark King Sarcean – my baby Will Kempen – and his top lieutenant, Anharion – my other baby James St. Clair – from Dark Rise 🖤

[noirshadow]

Counterintelligence

A little spy AU where Damen and Laurent have to work on a mission together.

1 | 2 | 3

“I think you may have met, but I’d like to introduce you to your new counterpart from the Veretian agency, ACQ.”

Unlike the slicked back look from the party, Laurent’s hair was more tousled and casual, the longer top falling gently behind his ear. He had replaced the evening suit with a casual dove gray number that accentuated all the right curves.

“You didn’t think that was the last of me, did you?” He said as a form of greeting, giving Damen a playful wink.

Continue reading on AO3

#captive prince #fic: counterintelligence #lamen #noirshadow writes

[read-in-the-night]

Capri Kinktober Day 30: Ritual Sex

Title: My Soul is Your Soul, My Life is Your Life Prompts: Shaving | Medical Kink | Ritual Sex Ship: Nikandros x Auguste Summary: Nikandros and Auguste were standing in the cellar of the deVere mansion. It was a dark and slightly cold and humid place. Gray stones lined the walls and floors. This was the oldest part of the mansion. Ruins of the temple the mansion was built on, once upon a time. Candles were lined against the wall, creating enough light to see each other, Laurent and Damen on the side, and a man tied up on his knees in between them. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51238504

Thank you @captiveprincekinktober for organizing this!

#captive prince #fanfiction #capri #capri kinktober 2023 #captive prince kinktober 2023 #fic #kinktober 2023 #nikandros x auguste #nikandros/auguste #nikgus

[the-laurent-of-vere-anon]

oh? -grabs him by the waist, pulls him closer- well, that depends. would you say you've been good?

-damen

mmm, besides turning a few of Augustes hairs gray.. I’d say I have

#captive prince #laurent de vere #lulu answers #captive prince rp #damen x laurent #damen #laurent of vere

[flammentanz]

“Mitternachtsparty” "(Le Jeu de la vérité") von Robert Hossein (1961)

Der renommierte Schriftsteller Jean-Francois Vérate (Jean Servais) und seine Gattin Solange (Nadia Gray) haben in ihrem mondänen Pariser Domizil diverse Gäste zu einer Abendgesellschaft eingeladen: der Direktor Etienne Bribant Marc Cassot) und seine Frau Françoise (Jeanne Valérie), der Wissenschaftler Bertrand Falaise (Georges Rivière) und seine Verlobte, die Tänzerin Gisèle Palerse (Daliah Lavi), der Unternehmer Guillaume Geder (Jacques Dacqmine) und seine Frau Florence (Perrette Pradier), Guylaine de Fleury (Françoise Prévost) und ihr Bruder Guy (Jean-Louis Trintignant). Was zunächst wie eine gewöhnliche Party mit nichtssagender Konversation beginnt, wandelt sich mit dem Eintreffen des berüchtigten Bonvivants Portant (Paul Meurisse) in Wortgefechte voll abgründigen Zynismus. Die Damen und Herren beginnen zum Zeitvertreib das “Spiel der Wahrheit” - “analog dazu der französische Originaltitel “Le Jeu de la Verite” - , bei dem einem der Gäste eine Frage gestellt wird, die dieser wahrheitsgemäß zu beantworten hat und anschließend an einen anderen aus der Runde, jedoch nicht an den ursprünglichen Fragesteller, eine neue richten darf. Als läge dieses “Spiel” nicht bereits genügend Abgründe hinter der glänzenden Fassade aller Beteiligten bloß, eröffnet Portant der Gesellschaft, dass er im Besitz eines Kuverts ist, in dem sich der Beweis für eine schockierende Tatsache über einen der Gäste befindet. Um Mitternacht beabsichtigt Portant, den Umschlag zu öffnen, um sich an dem Entsetzen des Betreffenden sowie der anderen zu ergötzen. Doch noch ehe er sein Vorhaben in die Tat umsetzen kann, wird er ermordet. Der eintreffende Kommissar (Robert Hossein) scheint mehr Rätsel aufzugeben als zu lösen und verhält sich überaus mysteriös …

#mitternachtsparty #le jeu de la veritè #robert hossein #paul meurisse #jean louis trintignant #französisches kino #kriminalfilm

[customsweaterproducer]

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[ao3feed-damenlaurent]

My Soul is Your Soul My Life is Your Life

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/RlfaZ5g by ReadInTheNight Nikandros and Auguste were standing in the cellar of the deVere mansion. It was a dark and slightly cold and humid place. Gray stones lined the walls and floors. This was the oldest part of the mansion. Ruins of the temple the mansion was built on, once upon a time. Candles were lined against the wall, creating enough light to see each other, Laurent and Damen on the side, and a man tied up on his knees in between them.   Prompts Day 30: Shaving | Medical Kink | Ritual Sex Words: 1564, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 30 of Capri Kinktober 2023, Part 6 of Suck My Blood And Drink My Dick Fandoms: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Auguste (Captive Prince), Nikandros (Captive Prince), Damen (Captive Prince), Laurent (Captive Prince) Relationships: Auguste/Nikandros (Captive Prince), Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince), Auguste & Laurent (Captive Prince) Additional Tags: Vampires, Queer Vampires - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Rituals, Vampiric Rituals, Blood Rituals, Blood, Killing, Mention of Pedophilia (He Dies), Idiots in Love, Friends to Lovers, Smut, Family Fluff, Laurent is a Little Shit, Soul Bond, Soul Sex, Sex, Gay Sex, POV Multiple, no beta we die like auguste, Capri Kinktober 2023, Kinktober 2023, Kinktober read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/RlfaZ5g

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #damen x laurent #lamen #damianos of akielos #damen #laurent of vere #laurent

[mimisosita]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: RABE DAMEN STRICKJACKEN SIZE 12 SHORT SLEEVE.

[manuelachristiana]

Meine Rezension:

KL928 Umhängetasche

Praktische, modische, kleine Crossbody-Bag für everyday!

Diese kleine, praktische und modische Umhänge-Tasche kommt wirklich hochwertig daher. Sie hat sogar eine passende Dust-Bag, die wie eine kleine Tasche aussieht. Sehr umweltbewusst und praktisch. Denn darin kann man das Täschchen aufbewahren, wenn man es grad nicht braucht.

Aber diese kleine Tasche ist wirklich eine Allday-Bag. Man kann sie zu  jedem Outfit tragen. Egal, ob zur Business-Kleidung oder zur Jeans, die Kleine macht immer einen guten Eindruck. Sie passt genauso zum Kleid oder zum legeren Freizeit-Outfit. Eine praktische, kleine Tasche für everyday. 

Nicht umsonst haben die Crossbody-Bags ihr Comeback angetreten. Sie sind einfach super praktisch. Und neu bzw. grad angesagt, ist ja der breite, möglichst gemusterte, farbige, lange Trageriemen. So auch hier! Der Trageriemen ist praktisch in der Länge verstellbar. So kann man die Tasche auch dann als Schultertasche tragen, wenn man das möchte. Der lange Henkel ist aber ideal, um sie Crossbody zu tragen. So hat man die Hände frei, die Tasche direkt "am Mann" und kann sich ungezwungen bewegen. Der Henkel wird seitlich rechts und links via Karabiner eingehängt. Er ist in einem abstrakten Leo-Print in hell/schwarz/braun. Das sieht fancy aus. Aber das Gute ist, dass man hier jeden anderen x-beliebigen Riemen befestigen kann.

Das Täschchen hat ideale Maße für Handy, Schlüssel, Schminke, Kosmetik, Riegel, Geldbörse, Kamera, Notizbüchlein + Stift und was Frau sonst noch so täglich braucht. Das Täschchen hat vorne und hinten jeweils außen aufgesetzt eine Reißverschluss-Tasche. Auch sehr praktisch. Innen gibt's auf der einen Seite 3 Kartenfächer, gegenüber auch noch mal ein Reißverschlussfach. Die Tasche ist innen mit farblich passendem Stoff ausgekleidet. Im Ganzen auch hochwertig verarbeitet. Super. Danke!

c) M. 11.8.2023