Damen and Laurent invented love.

Here’s my finished Captive Prince illustration, featuring my darlings Damen of Akielos and Laurent of Vere.

This piece is mixed media (primarily watercolors), and measures approximately 8.5"x11".

Please don’t remove caption.

That’s all. Just thinking about my snakey gay son and his cool jacket.

I got an idea that doesn’t really match the kind of writer I am, so I’m putting it out into the world if anyone wants to take it and run with it:

Prompt:  By the time he turns 25, Damen has tumbled enough women to make it worryingly clear that the Crown Prince of Akielos is infertile.  The various herbs and strategems that Akielons use to prevent pregnancies are good, but not that good, and what was once suspicion becomes fact when his lover of three years is caught with his brother and it comes out that Jokaste has been off her herbal remedies for two of them trying to cement her position with a royal bastard, but that she had not stopped bleeding until she had, in desperation, sought Kastor’s bed.

With Akielon ideas about dominance and status so inextricably tied with their concepts of masculinity and virility, the knowledge that the future King is shooting blanks would be a huge blow to the throne if it ever moved beyond the royal family.  There needs to be no question in the kyroi’s mind about why he produces no children.  Prince Damianos must be married, almost immediately; the new spouse must be someone that it could be believed Damianos would desire fully, someone that people would accept him forsaking all others for; the spouse must be someone who allows no hope of the marriage producing children, who makes it clear to everyone right away that royal inheritance must pass through Kastor’s line, so that everyone will have time to get used to and accept it (in short, another man); and the marriage must solve a problem so vital and complex that its usefulness could seem to excuse the lack of heirs.

Okay, so here’s the little bit that I’ve got written for my Captive Prince D&D au. The responses from my poll about which fic I should focus on were torn between the D&D au and the Boys of Summer au, and I’ve got some of the D&D au written already, so I’m gonna go with that I think.

Just a few notes : this scene is the first one that popped into my head, and it will probably end up falling about 1/3 of the way through the fic, so keep that in mind.

Also, I want to let you know that the entirety of my d&d knowledge comes from listening to The Adventure Zone, so I’m gonna be writing it in that style and with a pretty theoretical understanding of how actual game play goes. Please don’t be pedantic and message me about the mistakes that I’m making. If something is wrong, assume it’s because no one in the fic has played either and so they are figuring it out as they go. Also, house rules, kids.

This was written on my phone with SwiftKey and has not been beta’d, so there are probably mistakes.

I also reserve the right to change any and all of this scene as I hopefully start from the beginning and work my way up to this point and beyond.

Please please please please please let me know what you think, what you like about it. I am a broken slug masquerading as a human and I need SO MUCH VALIDATION. Like WAY MORE VALIDATION than most people need. My brain doesn’t make or retain happy chemicals so really whatever validation you can offer is super appreciated.

………………

The group is finally settling in at Erasmus’s dining room table. Kashel and Vannes are talking under their breath to each other, and whatever they are discussing must be hilarious because Vannes dissolves into laughter, resting her face in her hands. Kashel leans back in her chair, arms folding across her chest, and smiles triumphantly.

“Are you all sure that I can’t get you anything else?” Erasmus stands in the space between the dining room and the kitchen. His hands rub together as he surveys the drinks and snacks already set around the table.

“ Well now that you mention it…” Nicaise smirks, but quickly shuts his mouth at the stern look Auguste shoots his way.

“Sit down, Erasmus. You are an impeccable host, as always. We’re good.” Laurent’s tone holds both compliment and command. Not for the first time, Damen wonders how the younger man always seems so in control. Of everything. All of the time.

Erasmus sits, smiling sheepishly. Laurent offers him a quick smile in return. Even though the grin wasn’t directed at him, Damen feels his heart give a kick in his chest.

Damen hears the telltale ping of a notification to his left, and looks over. Nikandros is typing on his phone under the table, a look of concentration on his face. Damen elbows him in the ribs.

“What?” Nik whines indignantly, reflexively hunching to protect his side.

Damen takes the moment of distraction to snatch the phone out of Nik’s hands and hold it up above his head. Scrambling out of his chair, Nik propels himself towards Damen. Instinctively, Damen lifts his other arm to fend off his friend. Nik reaches for the phone, trying to maneuver past Damen’s defense, but Damen easily keeps the phone out of reach. Nik shifts back and then to the side, attempting to fake Damen out. Anticipating the move, Damen shifts to block him, and together they bump the table. Everyone’s drinks rattle and slosh, but nothing spills.

Out of the corner of his eye, Damen sees Erasmus wringing his hands nervously, watching their scuffle, while Kashel has leaned in to move their drinks away from the edge of the table. Nikardros slaps at him, far more forcefully than Damen would have expected. That fucking stung. Asshole.

“Do the children need to be taken for a walk?” Damen’s attention shifts to the overly saccharine drawl across the table. Blue eyes twinkle with amused condescension. “We wouldn’t want them to get too rowdy before story-time. Then they won’t go down for their naps.”

Heat rises in Damen’s face, and he freezes. Nikandros leans over and grabs his phone back.

“No, I’m sure the boys will settle down. Won’t they?” Kashel shoots them warning look, and Damen lowers his gaze, abashed.

“He started it,” Nik interjects cheekily, tossing a cheeto in the air and catching it his open mouth. He crunches loudly, exaggerating the noise, mouth smacking open and closed in a crass and familiar attempt to needle Damen. The noise of exaggerated chewing never fails to crawl under his skin.

He’d been doing this to Damen since they were 10.

Damen responds with all of the wounded dignity that only over a decade of shared teasing can cause: He sticks his tongue out.

Vannes laughs, delighted. Nicaise huffs scornfully into his mountaindew. Auguste rolls his eyes, exasperated.

And Laurent… Laurent is just watching, mouth quirked up at the corner. Look at the peasants squabble, his gaze all but shouts. Damen feels the heat rising in his face again. He looks away.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Damen angles his body over to face Kash.

“At least make him put his phone away.”

Kashel looks at Nik, raising one perfectly shaped brow. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Nik thumb the volume down to silent, and stick the phone in his pocket.

“Alright kids, let’s get started.” Auguste shuffles through the papers in front of him, settling one on top. Looking up, he scans the faces of the players seated around the table.

Auguste is looking entirely too pleased with himself, in Damen’s opinion. Seeing that shit-eatting grin on their DM’s face hasn’t ended particularly well for anyone in the party so far.

“Now, let’s just do a quick review of where we are,” glancing down, Auguste continues, “You’ve made camp outside of Nesson-Eloy. After that last battle, you all leveled up. Everyone has their updated character sheets, right?” Looking up for confirmation, he adds, “I can’t keep track of that stuff, that’s on you guys.”

“If someone doesn’t have their most up-to-date information, they’ll just have to play with their old stats.” Vannes interjects. Laurent nods in agreement.

“I’ve got mine,” Damen says, holding his sheet up as proof.

“Ah, well done. You’ve met the basic expectations of gameplay.” Laurent’s dry tone cuts across the table.

Damen grits his teeth as he meets Laurent’s gaze. A smile that sarcastic shouldn’t make someone even more attractive, he thinks, It just isn’t fair.

Damen wants to wipe the smirk off of the smug, beautiful face across the table. Preferably with his own face. Well, with a part of his face.

Damen imagines moving swiftly into Laurent’s space, imagines burying his fingers in that shining blonde hair. Soft. It has to be soft, he imagines. Cool silk between his fingers. He’d grip it tightly and tilt Laurent’s head back. Those blue eyes would be open wide, meeting his own in challenge. That icy gaze would flick down, settling on Damen’s mouth. And that tongue, that wicked tongue that so frequently cuts at Damen with calm disdain, would dart out, wetting those lips. Damen would see Laurent’s pupils dilate, and that would be enough. Damen would lean in and take, slanting his mouth over those perfect lips, swiping his tongue to part them and delve into the wet heat inside…

“…don’t you think so, Damen?” Kashel’s voice snaps Damen back to the present.

“What?” Damen blinks rapidly, a jittery reflex as he turns to look over to Kashel. She smiles innocently, hands folded in front of her.

“What?” she mimics back sweetly.

“So, you’re camped outside of Nesson-Eloy,” Auguste interjects, loudly pushing on as if he hadn’t been interrupted.

Still feeling dazed, Damen risks a quick glance up across the table.

Laurent’s gaze is fixed firmly on the papers in front of him. Twin spots of color stain his cheeks a flushed pink, but otherwise his face is impassive.

Damen reaches for his beer and takes a big gulp. When did it get so hot in here?

Tuning back in, Damen focuses on Auguste’s narration, “…and Charls arranged to meet his informant from Delpha in the city.”

“I did that while you all were doing that training mission, remember? None of you actually know that.” Laurent says, looking at Auguste.

“Yeah, and why is Charls hiding that, again?” Nik asks sarcastically.

“My dark and mysterious backstory, which will be revealed later in the campaign.” Laurent smiles, thin-lipped. “If you’re lucky.”

“Dark and mysterious, my ass…” Nikandros mutters under his breath, and Damen let’s out a single loud laugh. Laurent glares at him. Damen smiles cheekily in return. For just a moment, he swears he sees the corner of Laurent’s mouth twitch in response.

“Yes, as far as all of you know, none of you have any contacts in Delpha.” Auguste looks over at Damen, grinning, “Well, except for you, Lamen, but you know if you go back there and saunter in like, ‘Hey, what up, I’m your long lost king!’, things will break bad pretty quickly.”

The Fans:

Laurent manages to climb out with a little difficulty, noticing how the walls seem to be fully intact and the sun is shining down (he could have sworn us was cloudy did he hit his head?)

Pops out and scares the s h i t out of some temple priestesses that Laurent notes are wearing spot on period appropriate outfits. In fact, everyone is. He revisits the hitting of the head concern and really hopes he wasn’t down there long enough to miss his bus back to the hostel.

But then like…the temple is in primo condition and looking out he sees no sign of modern structure what so ever. Is his still unconscious? Oh look there are some men dressed like guards walking towards him, looking in the part and angry he can ask them—

I’m gonna jump off this and say that we as a fandom need to discuss more how pretty Damen canonically is. We have a whole short story about Charls lowkey thirsting after Damen while travelling alongside famed beauty Laurent - does Charls ever think about Laurent’s looks? Not really, because he’s too busy staring at Damen with actual heart eyes and waxing poetically about how he’s a dimpled!!! virile young man!!! glowing with good health!!! with an easy smile!!!! and tousled curls!!!

—

The Boy Who Lived Forever | Time Magazine

Scott was a man then who looked like a boy with a face between handsome and pretty. He had very fair wavy hair, a high forehead, excited and friendly eyes and a delicate long-lipped Irish mouth that, on a girl, would have been the mouth of a beauty. His chin was well built and he had good ears and a handsome, almost beautiful, unmarked nose. This should not have added up to a pretty face, but that came from the coloring, the very fair hair and the mouth. The mouth worried you until you knew him and then it worried you more.

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS BRIGHT AND BEAUTIFUL IN THE UNIVERSE, IF YOU LIVE IN THE US AND YOU’RE OVER 18, GO VOTE!