No one seems to ever talk about my favorite part of the Beauty and the Beast story, so in light of the disney remake coming out and everything, I’d like to take this moment to tell you guys something awesome. Bear with me for a moment.
First of all, as far as I can tell, Beauty and the Beast is the only mainstream Western fairy tale that was written ABOUT a woman, FOR women, BY women.
If you list whatever fairy tales you can think of off the top of your head, about half of them–Rapunzel, Snow White, Little Red Riding Hood–were probably traditional oral folk tales, typically told by women to other women or children while they were all spinning and doing other work.
However, these tales were then collected, rewritten, anthologized, and popularized by men like the Grimm brothers and Charles Perrault.
The other half–The Snow Queen, The Little Mermaid–were made up in the style of these folk tales by modern (male) authors, most notably Hans Christian Anderson.
But not Beauty and the Beast.
Setting aside its roots in the Greek myth of Eros and Psyche and its familial resemblance to East of the Sun and West of the Moon, Beauty and the Beast as we know it (prince cursed to be a beast, a rose, magic castle, a merchant’s daughter) was written by the French novelist Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve as a novella length story published in her book La Jeune Américaine et les Contes Marins in 1740. A considerably shortened version written by another woman, Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont, appeared in a French girls’ magazine sixteen years later, and that’s essentially the version we all know today. In both versions, Beauty is undoubtedly the main character.
But let’s talk about the de Villeneuve version for a moment, because it’s pretty interesting.
(First of all, I really recommend finding a translation and reading it yourself, because it’s a riot: the story you know only takes up about half of the novel; there’s this whole subplot where
every night Beauty has these dreams of a beautiful prince, and they talk a lot, and it’s kind of implied that they might be getting up to some dream-world hanky panky, but it’s the 1700s so no one’s saying it outright. And she’s falling in love with him, and he with her. Except he’s constantly telling her “You know, I know you like me and everything, but have you considered the Beast’s offer of marriage?” And Beauty, understandably, is like, wtf. And then after the prince turns back into a prince, his snooty mother turns up out of nowhere and tries to break them up? Idk, it’s weird. Anyway….)
So in the original version, Beauty is at the castle living with the Beast. And every night he asks her to be his bride, making it explicitly clear that her answer is totally allowed to be “no.” And every night, she says no, and he doesn’t push her further.
The interesting bit is although most translations put the Beast’s question as “will you marry me?,” the original version is closer to “will you sleep with me?” And it’s made clear once the curse is broken that only a willing–and not coerced–“yes” on Beauty’s part would break the curse.
tl;dr: That’s right, ladies and gentlemen and otherwise inclined. Beauty and the Beast is a 1700s-era feminist parable about the magical power of women’s consent.
Logan constantly correcting either Prince or Anx or just talking a lot and the other two clearly just don’t wanna listen and Mo just walking up behind him and whispering something to him and he just
he just stops
and his face goes red and he stops talking and nods and Mo is like “good boy” and walks away to continue doing whatever he was doing
Prince and Anx are just like
‘what? just happened??’
A/N: I don’t know what hits… but it’s shit… what have i created????? i’m sorry anon please forgive me. it started out so well.
Imagine: Cinderella AU.
You can’t help but admire yourself in the dirty, grim mirror that stands in front of you. The reflective glass doesn’t seem to capture the entirety of your beauty. The floor length gown is a shocking purple and seems to brighten the whole room. And the diamond necklace that comes with it sparkles as the lamplight hits it.
“Beautiful, you look.” A voice sounds from behind you, old and wise. Your fairy-godmother appears and smiles at you through the mirror. Well, he says he’s your fairy-god father, you’re not sure if you believe in that stuff quite yet.
Though, to be honest, when he made this fancy dress appear out of nowhere, you couldn’t help but believe him.
He himself was dressed in a rather dashing green suit and equally dashing green shoes. The cane in his left hand was a testament to how old he was, as if the white hair on the top of his head wasn’t enough.
“So…” you trail off, looking at his reflection in the mirror. “How does this whole thing work?” You raise your arms, watching as the sleeves fall nearly as far as the dress.
“Go to the ball, you must. Dance, you will,” he says, looking at you with mischief in his eyes.
was consistently at that one spot in the courtyard when the bells clanged and
it was time to stop and respect the deity of the Fire Nation. His father was
probably going to break all hell for him actually harboring even feelings of
infatuation for a local like her; nonetheless, he grabbed that opportune moment
of stillness to talk to her.
Warnings: This went a
little longer than I expected.
NOTE: This story is slightly based on the Philippine
colonial era (I’m sorry if there isn’t any justice to it D::: ); everyone lives
in Ba Sing Se, even some Water Tribe people as it is like a flourishing capital
of sorts and the Fire Nation took over; this fic has become a monster
steadily growing in my head; I totally got “Vigil” wrong, but it’s a prompt and
it was meant to stimulate my imagination. ENJOY!
tintinnabulation resounded throughout Ba Sing Se; on the courtyard, within the
buildings, along deserted corridors, through the entrance hall. It was a sign
that stopped everyone from walking to pray, and everyone obliged. At twelve
noon, three in the afternoon and six in the evening, the world stops to pray.
Or at least, that’s what
was prescribed. Zuko, on the other hand, stared. Since his final year in the university,
he would catch a certain brown-haired local at the courtyard standing and
waiting by a bench near a Fire Tree. The number of times he hadn’t seen her
when the bells chimed was measurable by the number of his fingers. She was
With a Hit LP and Movie, Rock’s Most Secretive and Sexy Cult Hero Grows into a Cultural Phenomenon
He glittered in a white sequined cape, ornately futuristic atop a bank of speakers in the darkened hall. Eerie synthesizer chords echoed through the arena, laser lights dappled the crowd and a garbled heavenly voice rumbled, “I’m confused.” And as confetti rained down, 19,000 fans at Detroit’s Joe Louis Arena saw the song and spectacle of Prince Rogers Nelson. “Detroit,” he thundered, “I’ve come to play with you!”
For Prince, a playground is a place where the id runs free. Prince’s former manager once said that “his worst fear is being normal,” and even the singer’s friends admit that he’s weird. On one other point fans and critics alike can agree: At 26, the musical polymath, film star and stage stud is currently the hottest act in show business. One newspaper has even coined a word for the hysteria he generates: Princedemonia.
Prince’s ascendance began two years ago with his rhapsodic dance LP, 1999, which still rides the charts after 105 weeks. He followed that with a feature film, Purple Rain, that became a surprise summer hit. The film spawned a sound track, which he produced, arranged, composed—and made into the No. 1 album. Spinning off clones faster than a Cambridge lab, he transformed a jazz percussionist named Sheila Escovedo into the singing sex-pot Sheila E.
and turned a former consort, Denise Matthews, a Pearl Drops tooth polish model, into Vanity, the leader of a camisole-clad girl group whose songs—written by Prince, of course—became dance-floor hits.
Last week Prince and his band, the Revolution, hit the concert trail for the first time in two years. In Washington, D.C Prince-lovers gobbled up 130,000 tickets in less than 10 hours, prompting one reporter to crack, “Maybe those Jackson fellows could open for him when they finish their Victory tour."
The comparisons with Michael are inevitable, since each is young, gifted, black—and a notorious recluse. Each has ignited, and united, black and white audiences with music that breaks down barriers among soul, funk and rock. But Prince’s risqué lyrics extolling the joy of sex go where no mainstream rocker has dared to go before. And while Michael is a man of mystery, Prince is a person of paradox. Consider the evidence.
Onstage, at his most outrageous, he has writhed atop a stack of speakers in nothing more than bikini briefs, leg warmers and a layer of sweat. Yet he covered up with a ‘30s-style tank suit when he went swimming at his hometown Y. He controls every facet of his career and his music, yet he’s too shy to face the press. He claims to speak "the truth” in his songs but early in his career lied to reporters about his name (he denied it was Nelson), his birth date (1958, which he pushed up to 1960) and even his racial heritage (he says he is “mixed” but his father says both parents are black).
He is a religious paradox as well. He gives thanks to God on his albums, yet his songs celebrate the pleasures of flesh, and the gospel he preaches is salvation by sex. In a song called Sister he even exploited the Big Daddy of all taboos: incest.
Who is this guy?
“The filthiest rock 'n’ roller ever to prance across the stage,” fumes Dan Peters, 33, a minister at the interdenominational Zion Christian Center in North St. Paul, Minn. For five years Dan and a brother have been kindling an antirock crusade by crisscrossing the country urging youngsters to destroy offending albums. At the moment the brothers are particularly incensed about a new song called Darling Nikki, in which Prince sings, “I am fine, fine because the Lord is coming soon.” “Kids come up to us and say, 'See, that shows he is a Christian,’ ” sputters Dan. “And I say, 'As far as we can tell from listening to the lyrics, his Lord is a penis.’ ”
Yet Prince’s songs, which include themes of lost love, politics and gun control, seem to mirror the concerns and anxieties of a sexually precocious, socially aware generation. “I guess if there’s a concept, it’s freedom—personal freedom—and the fact that we all have to do what we want to do,” Prince said of his music in my interview with him in 1981. A swaggering conqueror onstage, he seemed vulnerable in person, speaking in short, grudging bursts of words that nevertheless revealed more than he wanted me to know. Denying that he wanted to shock or outrage, he insisted, “I think I say exactly the way it is. I don’t particularly think what I sing about is so controversial. My albums deal with being loved and accepted. They deal with war. They deal with sex. When a girl can get birth control pills at age 12, she knows just about as much as I do. My mom had stuff in her room that I could sneak in and get…books, vibrators. I did it. I’m sure everybody does…It could be that I have a need to be different."
The difference began in Minneapolis, where Prince was born to Mattie and John Nelson, who already had seven other children from previous marriages. He was christened Prince after his father, a jazz pianist whose stage name was Prince Rogers. He was a man whose musicianship—and possibly arrogance—Prince admired. His songs were different, "unique,” Prince said. “He doesn’t listen to any other music. I respect anybody who doesn’t try to copy other people."
Prince had a large family but not much of a home. He and his father were never really close—"He found it hard to show emotion. I find that true of most men.” Prince considered himself and his sister “mistakes,” and after his parents’ divorce and his mother’s remarriage, he was passed from relative to relative. His last stop was the house of Bernadette Anderson, whose son André was a buddy and bandmate. Like his father, Prince “kept to himself,” Anderson recalls, working with André in a CETA youth program and acting the dutiful son. (He still remembers her on Mother’s Day, most recently with Lalique crystal.)
To André’s mother, he may have appeared quiet and shy. Inside, says a Minneapolitan who has known him since he was 16, he was “an emotional hand grenade capable of enormous visceral emotional swings…a volcano of emotion boiling under the surface.” His second cousin Charles Smith tells of the time he and the young Prince were riding on the freeway and a truck full of hooligans pelted their windshield with bottles. Smith, who was driving, wanted to flee but Prince refused to ignore that attack. “They made him so mad and scared,” Smith recalls, “he stepped down on my foot to speed up and hit them."
During adolescence, Prince began finding his muse. In his basement bedroom he lingered over the vivid images he found in porn novels, using some of those images in songs. Embossed in 14-karat legend are tales he told early in his career about orgies at 13 with neighborhood girls. (In an interview that made everyone cringe, André boasted of wrapping girls up with duck tape.) But Charles Smith thinks such stories are sheer fantasy. "Everybody was basically scared of girls,” he concedes. “We talked a lot of mess."
A musical omnivore, Prince learned to play a dozen instruments by ear. Chris Moon, an aspiring songwriter who discovered the prodigy, recalls that Prince spent long nights holed up in Moon’s small recording studio, patiently teaching himself to make his own demo tapes. He and Moon agreed to collaborate on a tune, and when the time came to record, Prince laid down guitar vocals, then offered to play keyboards. "This little kid with a huge Afro, he was pretty good,” Moon recalls. He was ready to call in a rhythm section when Prince asked, “Can I give it a shot?” Whereupon, says Moon, “He put down the bass guitar and I said, 'Go for it, Prince.’ So he ran over to the drums.” And Moon thought, “I’ve found the next Stevie Wonder.”
But the question was how to break a 5'3", black, 18-year-old musical dynamo. Prince’s first manager, Owen Husney, with his adman instincts, stoked the star-maker machinery by fudging Prince’s age and then dropping his last name to add to the mystery. Moon fueled the fires by writing lyrics full of sexy innuendo. “I thought, 'What’s the audience? Young girls.’ ” So the two wrote Soft and Wet. “The lines were pretty vague. But I thought the title would catch people’s ears."
Prince’s first two LPs, with their sexy soul, established him with black audiences as a poetic prince of the libido. His third, Dirty Mind, at first seemed doomed to failure, with its X-rated lyrics and a cover of Prince stripped down to his bikini, and even Owen Husney complained that Prince had "taken a good marketing gimmick too far.”
But Prince’s bold sexuality touched a nerve in the hip pop culture, and white critics praised him for music that fused Jimi Hendrix-style guitar, disco thump and roboty synthesizers. Rolling Stone proclaimed him artist of the year in 1982, and on the strength of 1999’s three Top 10 hits, he was launched toward stardom.
In Purple Rain, Prince played the Kid—a name he is often called by his Minneapolis circle—a selfish, tormented, unreachable soul who fights to survive an unhappy home life and turns inward, refusing to share his emotional or creative life. Prince has described the film as an “emotional autobiography.” Says his keyboardist Matt Fink: “For the first two years that I worked with him, Prince never talked to any of us. Once he started talking about his life with his parents. He mentioned something about having a tough time. Then he suddenly realized what he was doing and clammed up. That was two and a half years ago. We never heard about his personal life again.”
Revolution guitarist Lisa Coleman calls Prince a “genius,” but others haven’t been so generous. Some people who have worked with Prince call him Ayatollah or Napoleon. Others says he is simply a perfectionist who demands only what he asks of himself. He drives his musicians hard, even fining them for showing up late to rehearsals. He dictates what they wear during his show and refuses to let them give interviews without his permission.
As an outlet for his other musical interests, he has created pop protégé bands like the Time and Vanity 6 (re-christened Apollonia 6). Like the title character in The Idolmaker, one of his favorite films, he taught his charges how to dress and move onstage and also provided them with royal treatment in the studio. He produces albums other than his own under the pseudonym the Starr Company.
But there are signs that his empire may be crumbling. Morris Day, the Time’s dapper front man, whose braggadocio performance in Purple Rain won kudos from critics, left to pursue a solo career. So did Prince’s former girlfriend, Vanity, a loss that friends say “left him brokenhearted.” Bernadette Anderson, whose son André is another defector from Prince’s band, says, “You either go along with Prince or not at all.”
“Friendship, real friendship, that’s all that counts,” Prince once said wistfully, admitting, “I would like to be a more loving person.” Keyboard player Wendy Melvoin of the Revolution believes that Prince is changing: “There’s a willingness to accept new things.” The title of his film, Purple Rain, may have symbolized what she calls “a new beginning. Purple, the sky at dawn; rain, the cleansing factor.” The song itself grew in a late-night jam session, with each band member contributing a lick, the first time Prince had let them share in creating his music. “I think the most important lesson he has learned is that people care about him,” says Lisa Coleman. “He did start out alone.”
Perhaps the quest was not just for stardom but also to belong. That would explain why the Kid continues to live in Minneapolis, where he has devised a social world with other like-minded rebels. Explains Lisa: “I grew up in my own room, making music and having philosophies I thought no one would ever share. That’s exactly the way Prince grew up, so we find solace in each other.”
With no special woman in his life (“He’s married to his music,” says Vanity), Prince roams his hometown haunts with friends like Sheila E. A typical evening consists of supper at Rudolf’s, a barbecue house where you find the kind of fan who still remembers the autograph Prince signed for her six years ago. “Love, God, Prince,” it said. He still turns to religion for guidance, and current protégée Apollonia remembers finding a Bible in her motel room “opened to a scripture that he wanted me to read.” (How he got into her room remains a mystery. “Maybe he picked the lock,” she jokes.)
At heart, he’s a homebody, and he returns from evenings at the now famous First Avenue Club—usually alone—to his purple house with its pots of flowers and Marilyn Monroe posters. Late into the night he writes music and short stories with a purple pen on a purple pad that he carries about “like Walt Whitman,” says Wendy. Sometimes the Kid needs more. At least once he has slipped out of bed, jumped onto his bicycle and pedaled off—naked—into the Minneapolis dawn.
That prankish spirit reigns onstage, where His Royal Badness is at his hot, erotic best. “Do you want to take a bath with me?” he taunted the crowd last week during his concert’s show-stopper, stripping to his waist and climbing into an oversized elevated purple bathtub. Prince has tamed his sexual shtik; there’s no more necking with his female musicians. Gone too are the bikini briefs and his trademark, the pervert’s trench coat. What remains is enough to satisfy the most demanding fan: stiletto-heeled splits and leaps, wicked sonic screams and suggestive pelvic thrusts. After nearly two hours he gave his thanks with a melting grin that seemed to say that if the Kid had his way, he’d keep dancing until 1999. We’d ask him, but we know he wouldn’t talk.
I wanted to wait until I had art of this but the cat is out of the bag now I guess so LET’S ROLL WITH IT
This is MY version of a role swapping au, I know other people have thought about this but I’d like to share my view of it! You’re free to make your own AUs I don’t mind
First of all, this is how it works: couples of characters switch roles AND personalities, acting out the same story.
For now the characters who are swapping roles are:
- Poppy and Branch.
Branch is now the happy prince of the trolls who loves singing, dancing and scrapbooking. Poppy is the grumpy troll girl who doesnt sing, doesnt relax and is gray all the time. She lives in her fortified bunker and is constantly warning the other trolls about the bergens- especially Branch, who as a prince should show a little more responsability. Branch constantly tries to invite Poppy to their parties but she always refuses.
- King Peppy and Grandma Rosiepuff.
20 years ago Queen Rosiepuff led the trolls out of bergen town, away from the troll tree, to the village they live in now. Peppy, now a common troll, lost his life to save his daughter Poppy, who was too focused on singing to realize she was about to be taken by the bergens. Poppy never forgave herself for that.
- Bridget and Gristle.
Bridget is the Queen of the bergens, who never got to eat a troll. When the trolls escaped, her only hope to be happy vanished, and she lives a sad life. Gristle, a servant in her castle since his childhood, has always been secretly in love with her but he never though he’d have a chance. With the help of Branch, he finally realizes that happines is possible to find, even without eating a troll. (also pls imagine him as Sir Glittersparkle)
I tried to think of more characters to swap, but for now I can’t find any other couple that would fit well in each other’s shoes, so basically imagine the same movie, same story, same scenes, just with these characters swapped. Like this AU is honestly just an excuse for me to replay the movie in my head and laugh, it’s not supposed to have a different or more interesting plot, it’s just… fun to imagine. And draw.
Also I thought it’d be fun to keep certain characteristics that make the characters unique, liiike Branch would still be the one reciting romantic poetry in… Gristle’s ear this time, to win Bridget’s heart. Like imagine Poppy, this grumpy gray girl, suddenly smiling because wow, the prince sure knows how to talk.
But yeah I still got a lot to figure out, the villains would still be the same probably and yeah, Creek would totally be flirting with Branch and Poppy would totally hate him and that’s also something nice to imagine I guess haha
That’s all for now, if you have questions or suggestions feel free to send them my way!!
The main characters and their possibility of death in EoS
Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, Queen of Terrasen: 100% not possible
Obviously, Aelin is the lead protagonist. The narrative follows her for pretty much all of the books. The story wouldn’t carry without her. It’s her life. The fate of the other main characters hinges on her. We’re not even close to the final battle yet, where she needs to be.
She’s badass and amazing. She can’t die.
It would be so cruel to kill her off after her whole struggle to get to Terrasen.
Her story isn’t finished by any means.
Dorian Havilliard, King of Adarlan: highly unlikely
Dorian carries his own and a number of other plots in the series. He’s the plot device for both Adarlan’s and the male half of the Gavin/Elena story. He’s also involved in the future Erawan conflicts so needs to live until those battles atleast.
He’s already skirted death in QoS and survived. It cheapens the writer to constantly put a character on death row.
I still think there’s relationships to be explored further, e.g Aelin, Manon, Hollin, Georgina, etc.
He’s exceptionally powerful. Like what could take him out at this stage besides Erawan himself?
Chaol Westfall, Hand of the King: possible but unlikely
Chaol doesn’t really involve in too many of the main plots after the ending of QoS which wouldn’t make his death that significant in terms of furthering the plot.
Personally, I don’t think that Chaol’s death would be too devastating to anyone besides Dorian and Nesryn. In terms of Aelin, I think she cares for him and would be upset that he died but not on the scale that @sjmaas has been implying the death will.
Similarly to Dorian, Chaol has already come close to death in QoS.
He’s already injured, can’t walk. Talk about kick him while he’s down?
Rowan Whitethorn, Prince of Doranelle: likely
Sarah has talked lots about how the fans will hate her after EoS and many of the fans feel passionately about Rowan. I think his death would have the largest effect on the majority of readers.
Another point of the death was that it would have a huge impact on Aelin so Rowan ticks this box too, as her carranam and her current lover.
I think if Rowaelin were to be endgame, it wouldn’t have happened so early in the series.
I personally don’t think that Rowan is majorly involved in any of the apparent plots besides the Rowaelin love story. The Erawan storyline will go on without him, Aelin will still be queen and he has nothing to do with the Gavin/Elena retelling.
Manon Blackbeak, Leader of the Thirteen: unlikely
Manon, as a character, is responsible for telling the stories of the witch clans. It couldn’t be done without her.
There’s still relationship dynamics to be explored with Aelin, Dorian, Elide and Asterin.
The Thirteen will undoubtedly have a role to play in the upcoming Erawan conflict and they’ll need their leader for sure.
Manon is bamf. Abraxos would never let her die on him.
She and Aelin have only met once and it was in conflict. Manon dying would be crushing for readers (obviously, we love her.) but it wouldn’t have any emotional impact on Aelin.
Aedion Ashryver, Wolf of the North: highly likely
Aedion’s independent plot of finding Aelin has exhausted itself. Also, it’s been demonstrated that Aedion will give anything for her and he’s constantly in position to do so.
Everyone, no matter what you ship, enjoys Aedion so his death will be upsetting for all readers. It would devastate Aelin as he’s her only branch of family left.
Besides finding out his origins with Gavriel, Aedion doesn’t really have any other threads of plot that directly involve him.
Him dying, although it would be sad, would be a perfect opportunity for him to take the blood oath and prove his ultimate loyalty to Aelin.
Lysandra, Lady of Terrasen’s Court: unlikely
Lysandra’s story hasn’t been explored by Sarah hardly at all. To kill her in EoS would be to waste all that potential material and I’m a huge fan of the theory that Lysandra is Asterin’s child.
Despite her shapeshifting powers, I don’t think that Lysandra will end up anywhere in immediate danger in EoS. I think we’re going to see her finding her place in Terrasen with Aelin.
Although readers enjoy her as a character in the series, I don’t think many fans would be particularly hard hit if she died so the impact would be minimal, same as with Aelin.
Conclusion: I personally think that Rowan or Aedion will be the one to die in Empire of Storms. Both fit the criteria that Sarah has given us about the closeness to Aelin and the popularity with the readers and neither are the core of any main plots.
Feel free to share your thoughts with me. I can’t wait for Empire of Storms!
While CP doesn’t “romanticize” abuse or slavery in the first book… it does fetishize it. That is important in book 1. The power-dynamic is a subject of fascination and the push-pull creates tension that you don’t see in regular romance settings. Their world is not presented as purely horrible, but also erotic and exotic. I personally read it out of curiosity, but a lot of people believe fetishizing abuse (even in fiction) is wrong. So CP isn’t for everyone.
I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you mean. How
is abuse fetishized in the first book and how is this fetishism important?
Could you explain? Because I’m having trouble grasping what is fetishizing
abuse to you. I’m genuinely curious and trying to understand your point of
view, not trying to antagonize you, I promise.
It just doesn’t make sense to me. Because, for me, the
Captive Prince world IS presented as horrible. It makes very clear that just
because a behavior is normative it doesn’t mean it’s right or
good. It shows how people in a position of privilege in most cases
can’t see the wrongfulness of their actions just because those actions are
common or stablished.
Therefore, the sexual abuse that is perpetrated by
most of the veritians and seen as normal to them, not once is shown as something good or acceptable.
The court of Vere is presented through Damen’s eyes
as decadent and depraved because of its heinous sexual practices. Foreigners
as Damen and Torveld are usually appalled by it. And even Laurent, a veritian
himself, being someone who has suffered abuse, doesn’t take part in his
At the same time, Damen was a prince, he was a
slave owner and partook in abuse himself misguided by the idea that his slaves’
submission was consent and that because he was a good master he wasn’t doing
anything wrong, only realizing how abominable slavery is after he was subjected
to slavery himself. Also Laurent, coming from a non-slavery society can
see how wrong it is.
So, like I said, the Captive Prince world is awful and
it’s shown as such. This is set by the juxtaposition of a foreign element in
contrast with a stablished status quo, which allows the comparison of different
beliefs and behaviors to evidence that what is seen as normal, is not
necessarily right (does this make sense? I’m not sure if my English is being
able to convey what I mean).
If from that you think the way both Vere and Akielos
are presented is exotic and erotic then I don’t know what to tell you, that’s
not how I saw it at all.
As for Damen and Laurent’s relationship, the push-pull
between them is not created by a power imbalance, quite the opposite, it occurs
because Damen is not actually a slave, he is royalty, he is a prince just like
Laurent and he feels equal, if not better than Laurent, which is why he doesn’t
obey, he fights back, he doesn’t allow to be subdued.
I believe you’re right about the tension being a point
of fascination. But as I said before, it doesn’t happen because of their
slave-master relationship, since if Damen was actually a slave there would be
no tension, there would be no pull-push, he’d be submissive and obedient as
Erasmus. I see Erasmus as the counterpart of Damen, as I said above, in order to
show what a slave think and feel in contrast to Damen who is a prince.
The tension is actually created because of the initial
hatred Damen and Laurent feel for each other. It’s the whole enemies to lovers appeal;
they didn’t start off friendly they really really loathed each other, and with
time having to learn how to work together, how to live together, how to communicate,
how to work around their differences, the tension really peaks and is aggravated
by Damen’s identity still being unrevealed. They go a long way, and to watch
that change when they start to realize that maybe the other is not the horrible
monster they initially thought, maybe there’s more to them, maybe that villainized
image was not accurate, is very fascinating indeed.
And yes, I agree, as I’ve said so many times before,
Captive Prince is not for everyone, and that’s not because I think it
fetishizes/romanticizes/idealizes abuse, but because it is very explicit/descriptive.
There are detailed scenes of abuse, torture, sex, etc, and for some people the
very mention of those things can be a problem, so I always try to alert any new
readers to the content they’ll find.
P.S.: I think I should make clear that
all this is my point of view, I don’t speak for anyone else but myself, so if
you or someone else disagree with what I’m saying it’s all on me, please don’t generalize
my opinions as being those of the whole fandom.
In order to begin unlacing the garment, he had to lift his fingers and brush to one side the ends of the gilt hair, soft as fox fur. When he did so, Laurent tipped his head very slightly, offering better access.
His damp hair, pushed back as it was, exposed the elegantly balanced planes of his face.
The moonlight that crept in the cracks of the balcony shutters revealed the spill of Laurent’s pale hair against the pillow.
The blindfold covered Laurent’s eyes and emphasised his other features, the clean line of his jaw, the fall of his pale hair.
Then Damen’s eyes travelled up along the balanced nape, to wick of golden hair tucked behind an ear.
+ countless mentions of Laurent’s hair falling about his face/covering it
I mean… his hair obviously has to be long for all that to be possible