#autumn ikepri
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The Future of Memory Lane
Pairing ~ Jin Grandet x Reader
Word Count ~ 2.1k
Author's Note ~ Well, with a request like "Wool coat/blanket over shivering shoulders", plus my favorite man in the world, of course I got carried away! Thank you so much for this request, @kissmetwicekissmedeadly !!! I hope you enjoy me just basically gushing about Jin in fic form for 8 minutes. hehe
Warnings ~ Mentions/insinuations of smexy times, but none actually written
~
And happy official First Day of Fall for everyone in North America! IT'S FINALLY HERE!
The night air was cool, laced with a brisk wind and crunchy leaves that followed its urging. The festival lights were bright and welcoming, a warm invitation to sample the vivacious life that bubbled in the town square, and you and Jin took that invitation with open arms. You sat on a bench in the midst of a bustling evening, filled with laughter and the smoky scents of the dishes made with autumn harvest. Children participated in a pumpkin carving contest not too far away and you watched as mothers and fathers helped their young ones use the sharp knives to bring to life the spooky designs that could only come from a child’s mind. Yours and Jin’s pumpkins sat beside you on the ground, waiting for their turn to be carved once you returned to the palace.
“Hope ya didn’t miss me too much.” your lover’s voice came from your right and you turned to face him, an eager smile already on your lips.
“I always miss you too much.” you giggled as he sat down and handed you a basket with all sorts of food inside. The smell was intoxicating and you nearly neglected the use of your fork just to dig in faster. But upon remembering all you had to carry, you thought better of getting your hands sticky and picked up your utensil. “Thanks for the food, Jin.” you plopped your head against his shoulder and he chuckled, pulling you closer to his side.
“Sure, sweetheart. I couldn’t let the most beautiful woman here go hungry.”
You nuzzled his warm body and let out a laugh, your cheeks reddening in a giddy blush as you chased away the chill in the safest place you’ve ever known: right in this man’s arms. The two of you munched on your food and watched the people smiling around you, oblivious to the prince and his lover in their wake, and that’s just the way you and Jin liked it. Blending in allowed you to enjoy dates like a regular couple, without the peering, judging eyes that befell royalty every day in the palace.
The wind began to pick up as you and Jin discarded your empty baskets and walked around the stalls, all lit up with little twinkling lights and candles. You came across one of your favorite jewelry merchants and started looking through the pieces he had brought this time. The gems were all delicately wrapped with beautiful iron detailing, and each was a representation of something to do with the autumn season. As per tradition, you and Jin each picked out a piece for the other, paid the merchant after thanking him, and made your way further up the cobblestone street.
"Here we go." Jin declared as you reached your favorite coffee shop. Your smile widened and you wrapped your arms even tighter around Jin's bicep, excited about what you knew was coming next.
The little bell clinked as Jin opened the door for you and the wave of coffee bean scent hit you. Your eyes fell closed and you breathed in the cozy, familiar scent of memories from many years of shared joy. Strong arms wrapped around you from behind and you giggled, the musky scent of your lover only adding to the bliss. "Know what you want, sweetheart?" He murmured in your ear and you nodded, letting him propel you to the counter, his warm hands never leaving your sides.
You ordered your favorite: pumpkin flavored coffee and a piece of toffee cake, always made freshly at the beginning of each day once the weather turned cold. Jin ordered his favorite: caramel flavored coffee with pumpkin syrup, and a piece of honey chocolate cake, and you both made your way to the seats outside in the cool night air, your favorite booth left open in anticipation of your visit. You slid in next to the stone wall and gazed out at the lights from the festival, sighing happily when Jin scooted in next to you and provided you with his warmth.
"Ready?" He leaned down and pressed the gentlest of kisses against your lips and you hummed against him, pulling him closer.
"Mhm," you murmured, tugging him back down for another kiss before turning away to grab your bag from the jewelry merchant. Jin did the same, and when you turned back around, he was holding a little terracotta ring box in his hand.
"Sweetheart, I never thought I'd get to have a love like this… but ya proved me wrong. You showed me that love isn't a curse, and it doesn't have to end the way my parents' did," he paused, coughing to hide his emotions, and you wrapped your arms around his waist, tucking your head under his chin. All the love, pain, grief, joy, and comfort that this man had given you the last three years came rushing back to you in an instant a the thought of what you assumed he was about to say, and you fought to hold the tears back before he could finish. You nodded silently and he continued.
"I… I want to make you happy, for the rest of your life. I want to be the man that lives up to all your fairytale dreams. I may not be able to do that, but I wanna try. I wanna be yours forever and I want you to be mine too. Will- will you marry me?"
The moment the words left his lips, you let out a sobbing laugh and smiled up at him, tears beginning to streak your face. The look of momentary panic on his face had you cupping his cheeks and kissing him with all your might. "Jin of course I will. Of course I'll marry you!" You cried, and threw your arms around his neck. His entire body slumped with relief and he returned your embrace, crushing you to him and nearly taking your breath away.
Swept away in a tidal wave of emotion, neither of you noticed the little crowd of townspeople that had gathered to watch the excitement, until they began to clap and celebrate your joy. "Oh!" You gasped in surprise and you both finally broke apart in a daze, and glanced around at everyone clapping for you.
Jin smiled at them, then down at you, the love in his eyes set newly ablaze as he stared down at his fiancée; the only woman who had ever successfully broken through his salacious exterior to see the man within. You were smiling and giggling, thanking the townspeople, but all Jin saw was you. All Jin would ever see again was you, and he was completely fine with that.
The rest of your coffee shop date passed in hushed giggles and loving touches, and before long, the festival crowd was dying down and it was getting late. "Well, ready to go home, future Mrs. Grandet?" Jin beamed down at you as he stood from the booth and held his hand out. For the thousandth time that evening, a joyful laugh bubbled out from between your lips.
"I am, my darling future husband." You responded in kind, taking his hand and letting him pull you up.
"Then we shall take our leave." He continued the silly posh accent as he wrapped your hand around his arm and led you back through the coffee shop and out into the night. You were always safe with Jin, his big, tall frame too intimidating to be pounced upon, so walking the streets with him, even in the evenings, never worried you the way it used to. It was a comfortable walk; a walk you had watched lovers take all your life; a walk you never thought you'd experience for yourself. That is, until 3 years ago. Then you finally understood how every moment was so precious, and every step meant something when you were with the right person.
You were as close to Jin as you could possibly get, but it still didn't feel like enough. Would you ever get close enough? You pondered the thought lazily as the two of you walked back toward your carriage on the other side of town, when…
plop!
plop plop!
"Oh man," Jin said above you. "We're about to get real wet. And not the fun kind. Hold on, sweetheart." And in a single second, you'd been lifted into your prince's arms, and not a moment too soon. The sky opened up and the rain began to pelt you both. It was a cold autumn rain that put a chill in your bones upon contact, and you squealed, clutching Jin's shoulders tightly as he ran. The carriage had still been pretty far, but Jin's long legs carried you there in half the time your own could have, however not before allowing the rain to completely soak the both of you. You clambered into the carriage with Jin right on your heels. He gave some hurried instructions to the driver before pulling the door closed and pulling you close to him.
The carriage arrived at the palace after several wet, shivering moments, and a butler came out to greet you both with a large umbrella in hand. Thankful for the cover, you both hurried along beside him into the palace and once inside, Jin tugged you towards his room.
"Thank you for carrying me. I never would have been able to run that fast." You laughed as you toweled off your wet hair in Jin's bedroom. You tossed the towel to him next and he mimicked your actions before stripping his shirt from his soaked body and toweling it too.
"Course, sweetheart. I'm sorry your prince couldn't keep you from getting wet." He smiled sheepishly.
"Oh, it's fine." You giggled. "Rain is just water. We basically just took a shower outside."
"Have you forgotten what we do in the shower?" He cocked his eyebrow at you, unimpressed, and you blushed, images of exactly what you and Jin normally do in the shower dancing through your mind.
"Oh absolutely not." You laughed, wiggling your eyebrows at him.
"Good, I wouldn't want to find out that my beautiful fiancée could forget our time together." He grinned, the mirth once again in his eyes.
Fiancée.
The word hit you then like a freight train and you paused all movement, staring at Jin as if taking him in for the very first time again. You were pledged to be married to this insanely handsome man before you. It was almost too wild to believe. But as his eyes met yours again, it seemed so obvious. Of course it was him, no one else could ever compare.
Jin hadn't noticed your revelation, and instead was busying himself with pulling several thick blankets from his closet. You only noticed that he had lit up the fireplace when he came to drape one of the blankets around your still shivering shoulders and lead you to his sofa. He sat down first, then pulled you into his lap, cradling you against his bare torso. Your fingers automatically began to trace the lines and dips in his skin, a habit you had formed early in your relationship and never intended to drop.
"Oh hey!" You exclaimed suddenly. "I got so excited about your proposal that I forgot to give you what I got you from the jewelry stall!" You hopped up and rummaged through the pocket of your discarded jacket and pulled out the little bag and brought it back to Jin. You sat back down in his lap and pulled a pendant out of the bag. It was two deep blue sapphires encased in iron hearts and woven together in a beautiful design. "For your jacket lapel." You added as he brought his hand up to cup the tiny piece of art.
"It's incredible." He murmured, staring at it with a certain reverence you only get to see from him when you're alone. "Thank you baby." He muttered, pulling you close and pressing his lips to yours several times before letting you settle back into his arms under the blanket.
"You know this blanket is going to be so soaked, right?" You said after several moments of silence, leaning your head against Jin's shoulder.
"Yeah, that's why I got two out. We're gonna warm up right here first, and then we're gonna take a nice, hot shower, dry off, and we're coming right back to this spot. This is a special night, ya know. I wanna make it last as long as possible."
You giggled and cupped his cheek with your palm before allowing your fingers to explore the nape of his neck and his damp hair. You pulled him down to kiss you and his grip on you tightened. You pulled back just enough to whisper against his lips, "I love you, Jin Grandet."
"I love you too, sweetheart; my amazing future wife. Happy anniversary."
🎃
Tags for the Lovelies: @rhodolitesroseforclavis @aquagirl1978 @ikehoe @queengiuliettafirstlady @maries-gallery @nightghoul381 @itsjudesfault @xbalayage
#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikemen series#jin grandet#ikepri jin#jin grandet fluff#ikepri jin fluff#otome#otome games#autumn fluff#autumn ikepri#ikepri fluff#ikemen prince fluff
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A/N: Since I was not able to complete all the fic requests for the Fall Fluff Autumn Angst Content Creation Challenge, I thought I could still do the ones I had left as headcanons 🌟
Leon, Luke, Chevalier and Gilbert x reader
Word Count: 1756
Ikemen Prince Fall Fluff Headcanons 🍂
Leon - Warming Hands 🧤
You step through the terrace doors, buffeted by a playful autumn breeze. Your walk through the forest on the palace grounds with Clavis had been invigorating. Together you planned most of the activities for the Fall Festival. Between your creative ideas and his connections with different merchants and important townspeople, you had managed to figure out the nuts and bolts of how to get this celebration off the ground and you are feeling tremendously proud.
And tremendously cold. The woods had been much cooler than you had anticipated and your gloves, forgotten somewhere in the tumult of your bureau, would have been good to have along. The shallow pockets of your long, gray coat had done a passable job but you can still feel the chill wrapped around your fingers, tiny claws biting at your skin.
“There you are!” Leon smiles, tossing the folder of paperwork he had been carrying indifferently onto a table in passing, his focus only on you as he crosses the room on those long legs. One look at the ruddiness of your cheeks and the way your hands are clenched together tells him all he needs to know.
“You forgot your gloves again, didn’t you love?” Sheepishly you nod and he shakes his head affectionately, reaching out to take your hands in his. They engulf yours in warmth and you can’t help the small sigh that escapes you as he gently rubs your chilled skin.
“You know, those cheeks are also looking very rosy.” He leans down, peppering them both with kisses. You squirm in delight and he laughs, your hands still encased in his, his breath warm against you. “And your neck must be freezing! How reckless of you!”
“Leon! I’m wearing a scarf!” But your prince is undeterred as he pulls the scarf aside, burying his face in the side of your neck, his onslaught of kisses broken only by the sound of his warm laughter.
Luke - Cozy Sweater 🧶
His visits to town can take a long time, especially when he is meeting friends. You turn your attention back to your book, trying not to wonder when he will be back. You get through two paragraphs of which you actually only read a sentence or two before you get up, tossing the book haphazardly on the bed, and walk to the tall window, looking out at the cloudy, autumn night. No stars, only a sliver of moon. It’s cold and dark and you want Luke back so you can curl up in his arms where you feel warm and safe and cozy.
Your gaze travels around the bedroom and then stops on an oversized green chair in the corner. Hmm. He may not be here but…..
Crossing the room, you run your fingers over the pile of clothes he has decided must live on this chair and nowhere else. You rifle through them, only stopping when you come to the soft, olive green sweater toward the bottom. Luke loves this sweater and wears it often. He wouldn’t mind if you just-
The sweater is saved from the bottom of the clothes pile and then pulled over your head, not so much you wearing it as it wears you. The sleeves hang far past your hands and the hem falls somewhere mid-calf. It looks a bit silly, like a child playing dress up, but you close your eyes, wrapping your arms around yourself. Ah, it smells like him. The faint scent of woods and a sweet grace note of honey. It may not be his arms, but it feels pretty darn close.
A few hours later, when Luke walks through the bedroom door, he finds you curled up on his side of the bed, in his favorite sweater, fast asleep. The book you were reading has slipped to the floor from hands lax with sleep. His heart glows with tenderness at the sight and he takes a moment, a tall figure at the foot of the bed, to simply drink it in. Then he quietly sheds his clothing down to his lavender tunic and climbs onto the bed next to your sleeping form. He wraps his big body around yours, sheltering you in his arms, and joins you in sleep.
Chevalier - Pumpkins 🔪
The face isn’t quite right. You lean back, head tilted to one side as you examine your pumpkin. The mouth is lopsided, one eye is decidedly bigger than the other and you don’t know how but you have given him several noses.
“You said it would be frightening.” That voice. When did he show up? You turn around to face your husband who is standing behind you, one brow raised ever so slightly as he surveys the massacre of pumpkin parts you have spread out on the terrace table.
“It….kind of is?” You gesture toward the other pumpkins you carved, pointing the tip of the carving knife in their direction. “It’s better than those….er….practice pumpkins.” He snorts at the white lie that your previous attempts were practice and not you being horribly inept at carving.
You scowl at him and his stupid (ok attractive) little smirk. “It’s not that easy!”
Something flashes in the blue depths of his eyes. Amusement? A challenge? A scintillating combination of both? “Isn’t it though?” And then he is sitting next to you, the carving knife out of your hand and in his. Though an inanimate object, you swear it seems to be relieved to be held by someone else.
He reaches for one of the pumpkins that has been hollowed out but not yet cut and then shifts, turning his back so that you can’t see what he is doing. You cross your arms, the head shaking merely icing on the cake of your annoyance.
"You, your highness, have never carved a pumpkin in your life. I grew up doing this! It really isn’t as easy as it looks.” No answer. You sigh, turning to look up at the bright leaves overhead, the splashes of red and yellow against the clear blue of the autumn sky.
The bench creaks as Chevalier stands up in what feels like far too short a time for carving a pumpkin. “There.” You turn your body to look at what he has done and what you see……is not a surprise. In front of you is a pumpkin with an expertly carved evil face. The eyes are narrowed angrily, the menacing mouth open to reveal sharp, wickedly pointed teeth. He even managed to create a sloped brow and crooked nose.
You feel his hands squeeze you lightly when he places them on your shoulders, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. Turning his head, he whispers in your ear, his voice low and soft. “You can use it as a model example as you continue practicing.” You may not be able to see him, but you can feel the amusement in his words, the warm undercurrent of affection that is always for your ears alone.
As he turns away, his mouth curved in a self-satisfied smile, you flick a pumpkin seed at him and watch as it clings to the back of his white cloak, a tiny stowaway coated in orange pumpkin juice. And you find yourself grinning.
Gilbert - Cinnamon Kiss 💋
You know he is working, but you can’t help the way you excitedly throw open the heavy, carved doors of his study with one arm. “It’s here!”
At the sound of your voice, he sets aside the missive he was reading, a light smile gracing his lips. He has been working so hard lately and the sight of the pile of papers on his desk, the circles under his eyes, the tired slope of his shoulders, pulls at your heart, slowing your steps as you approach. You repeat yourself, this time less loudly. “It’s here.”
He reaches his arms out for you, pulling you onto his lap and sighs as he buries his face in your shoulder. His voice is muffled, almost small, when he speaks. “You’re here. What could be better?” You smile softly as you reach for his chin, your fingers gently tipping his head away from you. “This.”
You set the small, circular tin on his desk. It’s a beautiful deep red, decorated with golden stars and swirls. Gilbert looks curiously at it, shifting you slightly on his lap as he pushes a few papers out of the way. “Is this the package you’ve been waiting for? From Rhodolite?”
You nod, your eyes bright with anticipation. Leaving forward over the stronghold of his forearm, you carefully lift the lid of the tin. Immediately the scent of cinnamon fills the air and you can see by the way he smiles that he now knows what this is. “They arrived.”
Your favorite cookies from your favorite bakery. Not once have you ever regretted leaving Rhodolite for love of this man, but because of the tension between the two countries, traveling back and forth has become dangerous. Which makes this gift, a favor from Clavis, all the more special. Carefully, you reach inside and select a star-shaped cinnamon cookie from the tin. “Enjoy, Liebes,” he says warmly but you shake your head. “Not me. You. You get the first bite.” He cocks his head, gaze soft like morning mist as it caresses your face. “But–”
No buts allowed, you think as you simply press the cookie against his lips. He laughs quietly, catching the cookie before it can fall and then takes it into his mouth. You watch eagerly as he chews, tense with anticipation as you wait to hear his judgment.
“And? Isn’t it the best thing you have ever tasted?”
He licks his lips, tightening his arms around you, pulling you even closer against him. “It is certainly the best cookie I have ever eaten, ja.” Your smile burns away the exhaustion that has been haunting him all evening. “However…..”
“However?”
“HOWEVER”, he repeats with a slow grin, “it is not the best thing I have ever tasted.” And then he is so very close, his lips mere centimeters from yours, one hand wrapping itself around the nape of your neck. “That, Häschen, would be this.” And then his mouth is on yours, cool lips parting. He tastes like cinnamon and nutmeg and nighttime and magic. As you wrap your arms around his shoulders, as his hands grip you tightly, you decide he is right. This really is the most delicious taste in the world.
Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @atelieredux @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesroseforclavis @somekidnamedkai @ikemen-prince-writers-posts @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @ikehoe @redheadkittys @themysticalbeing @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @leotoru @ariamichel @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @moonstruck-writing @scorchieart
#ikemen series#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikemen leon#ikepri leon#leon dompteur#ikemen luke#ikepri luke#luke randolph#ikemen chevalier#ikepri chevalier#chevalier michel#ikemen gilbert#ikepri gilbert#gilbert von obsidian#fall fluff autumn angst ccc#fall fluff#ikemen fanfiction#ikemen fanfic#violettwrites
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Chevalier + treats + fluff 💋
Thank you @violettduchess for this request - I know we discussed a few different ways this prompt could be handled, but I kinda went in a completely different direction. Hope you enjoy!
A Rare Treat - Chevalier Michel x Reader (Ikemen Prince)
A/N: Part of the Fall Fluff/Autumn Angst CCC hosted by myself and @violettduchess
Pairing: Chevalier Michel x Reader
Prompt: treats
Tags: domestic fluff; Chevalier as a dad
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Your voice was a soft purr in your love’s ear. It was a rare treat indeed for him to be up at such an early hour without reason.
Chevalier smiled at you; cupping the back of your head in his hand, he gently brought your lips to meet his in a sweet, morning kiss. You could get used to this, waking up together - not that you didn’t enjoy admiring him while he slept.
He broke the kiss sooner than you would have liked. Stretching in his spot, yawning loudly, Chevalier resembled the tiger of his crest, albeit a sleepy tiger. Rolling over to face you, he propped himself up on his elbow.
“What do you normally do while I’m asleep?”
“Sometimes I read,” you offered, tilting your head towards your nightstand, where the latest novel that caught your interest rested.
He inched closer to you. “And what else?”
Cheeks flushed, the color of the pale pink roses in the vase on his desk, you averted your gaze.
“You watch me.”
Your gaze returned to his; he knew, of course he knew. It was like he could read your mind.
“Yes,” you admitted, allowing your fingertips to ghost his face. He closed his eye at your touch, like a touch-starved kitten.
“And you,” Chevalier asked the small figure curled up against your chest, offering his pinky finger to the child to grab and hold onto. “What do you do when mama is watching me?”
Too young to truly understand his father's words, the young boy climbed onto his father’s chest and stared into his eyes, the same shade of brilliant blue reflected back at him.
"Eat!" the child said happily.
Chevalier made a sound resembling a sleepy purr as he climbed out of bed. He sat at the table, his young son perched on his lap, ruffling the boy’s pale locks as you looked on from across the table.
"Would you like a biscuit?" you asked, passing the tray to of treats to Chevalier, who gracefully placed one on his plate.
"I made them yesterday," you added, knowing his preference for your homemade sweets. Silently, he added a second to his plate, a small, pleased smile lighting up his face.
You spent the remainder of breakfast going over your day - that afternoon you had a tea party planned with the wives of some visiting nobles, while Chevalier met with their husbands to discuss trade opportunities.
"Rio offered to babysit later in the day." Chevalier nodded in agreement; you were certain he was thrilled it was Rio and not Clavis acting as babysitter. Looking down at his plate, Chevalier frowned when he found it empty; where there was once two biscuits, now remained only a few crumbs.
The young prince stared up at his father, happily holding a treat in each hand.
"We know where he gets his sweet tooth from," you said as you placed more biscuits on Chevalier's plate, adding a few extra for your hungry child.
The king couldn't help but smile as he bit into one of your biscuits. He wasn't sure what was sweeter, the treat or sharing them with his family.
Tagging: @redheadkittys @alixennial @rhodolitesrose @atelieredux @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @devildomwritersposts @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @altairring @lucyw260 @lordsisterxotome @violettduchess @scorchieart @jet-ivory @cilokgoang @bellerose-arcana
#fall fluff autumn angst ccc#ikemen series#ikemen prince#ikepri#chevalier michel#ikepri chevalier#ikemen chevalier#ikemen fanfic#ikepri fanfic#otome#otome games
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Home Sweet Homesick | AO3
Characters: Clavis Lelouch, Chevalier Michel
Genre: Angst, Comfort.
Summary: Two brothers. One month. The final autumn before Bloodstained Rose Day.
Word Count: 5.8k (grab a mug of your preferred warm beverage, friends)
A/N: It has come to my attention that I have never written a fic with these two interacting. Yes, I am shocked, too. This is a franken-fall-fic for the following challenges, many warm hugs to the awesome writers who set them up!
Prompts:
Getting warm in their sweater - Cozytober hosted by @randonauticrap
"Your hands are cold." - Pumpkins & Fireplaces 2022 hosted by @chaosangel767
Treats - Fall Fluff & Autumn Angst CCC hosted by @aquagirl1978 & @violettduchess
Warnings: Mentions of death, grief, mild descriptions of injuries and pain (no blood), mild Clavis route spoilers.
“Recent activity west constitutes a growing concern, however full-blown mobilization of troops would be premature at this juncture—”
“Yaaaawn!”
“—No significant changes to report. Although such an extended pause may suggest possibility of attack—”
“Sn-ore!”
“—Our swiftest horse and rider are prepared to head out on-call with detailed instructions, should any perturbing developments arise—”
“Some perturbing development better arise in the next five seconds before I die of boredom!”
Tent flaps crack as a sharp gust bursts in unannounced, causing the stacks of paper and envelopes piled on top of our makeshift oakwood desk to flutter longingly underneath the stones I arrested them with. Three of the four candles illuminating my side blow out instantly, but the last one manages to hold on to its wicker as the mini tempest fades out as quickly as it started. It flickers feebly before bouncing back to its previous height, as though the wind was but a slight inconvenience.
I want nothing more than to grab that candlestick and plunge it straight into the desk.
But I don’t do that. I straighten my back, brush the windswept hair out of my face, and assess the damage. Luckily I had the foresight to restopper the ink bottle, because it was rolling halfway across the table by the time I spotted it. I manage to snatch it and my quill before they tumble over the edge and lay them atop the slightly wrinkled letter I was penning. Oh well, wrinkled doesn’t mean illegible, and I would know that better than anyone. Besides, the thing will get folded and stuffed into an envelope anyway. What’s one more crease in its cap?
I lightly tap the last word I wrote and lift my finger. No stains. Amazing how some good came from that nimble nimbus, considering all the damage its friends did to our tent. A large dollop of water trickles through a rip in the top and drops onto my hair, a casual reminder of the rainstorm that bucketed our camp this afternoon. I shake my head and peek through the still-swaying tent flaps to the citadel stationed at the bottom of the hill.
Golden fireplaces and candelabras illuminate the dozens of windows scattered across the fortress walls. Up here they look like tiny fireflies waiting to be captured.
I would like to go down there and catch them.
But I am technically still on duty. Yes, being a scribe is a duty of mine, and one I take rather seriously, despite what some nosy naysaying ministers may claim. Despite the fact that I prefer to be buried beneath a stack of dry blankets than wet letters, next to one of those shimmering fireflies. Despite the fact that our shabby little tent is one gust away from flying off to oblivion.
I mean Obsidian.
Either? Both? Beyond?
I do not like our shabby little tent.
But it doesn’t matter what I like because Chevalier likes it. Or rather, he likes its location. High above the tallest hill, the perfect vantage point overlooking both Rhodolite and Obsidian’s movements. Close enough to the citadel to relay any new perturbing developments as soon as they occur. Far enough from the border to dispel any accusations of militaristic intent.
Were this hilltop not the size of my closet, I bet Chevalier would move here permanently.
I wish Chevalier would move here permanently.
“Though it would be ardent to begin preparations at present, for the tides may turn mere moments after this letter leaves our base—”
“Now hold on, I haven’t caught up yet!” I say, quickly picking up my quill again. Did he say “preparations for presents”? I didn’t realize we were throwing a party. Yves’s birthday was a few weeks ago, but he’s back at the castle.
This makes no sense. And “tummies may turn”? Jin would sooner swear off women than Chevalier utter the word tummy in any context. Though mine has been spinning in circles since we started nearly two hours ago. It is long past midnight now, and I’d really like to lie down. But if Chevalier isn’t tired, neither am I.
I’ll just write down my best guess.
Like the candle, Chevalier only paused for a moment then instantly resumed his blathering as soon as the wind ceased. It doesn’t surprise me, honestly. I’ve seen my brother cut his dinner with a steak knife, stab an assassin with said knife, and chew his brisket all in the same breath.
And people say I’m the batty one.
Keeping my head hanging low over the paper, I steal a peek at Chevalier at the other end of the tent. He twirls a red stone figurine of a soldier in his left hand as he studies the large map laid out on the table, his back towards me. Not even his hair looks disturbed by the wind, and for some reason that angers me more than his refusal to slow down enough for me to catch up.
“Stop that,” he snaps, plunking the red soldier on the map with a sharp thwack.
“Stop what? Writing for your lazy behind?” I say.
“That nettlesome tapping. It is disrupting my thoughts.”
I unconsciously halt tapping the quill. Now do you understand what a blessing it is that I am still sane, dear reader?
“Well, you’re disrupting my process with your ugly mug,” I say, resuming the tapping, louder this time. I wish I could see his face right now. His eye is probably twitching like it does when I interrupt his reading, and that always makes it worth the mental trudge it takes to see him.
I will not be rewarded for my efforts tonight, it seems.
“You’re welcome to pick up where I left off if my way bothers you so much,” I say.
Chevalier hums and reaches for another figurine from a box. This time he pulls out a black one.
“And what would you do then to occupy yourself?” he asks, flicking the tip of the soldier’s miniature sword with his finger. “Tap your quill? Twiddle your thumbs? Sleep? When you’ve hardly managed to catch a wink this past month?”
And whose fault is that? I want to say, but I force my lips into a tight grin instead. A gentleman does not complain when faced with adversity. He powers through with grace and dignity and an unyielding smile.
But my cheeks are seriously starting to bear the toll of weeks upon weeks of these fake smiles. And my eyes have long since run out of tears following all those late-night jumpscares whenever I do manage to fall asleep. And my limbs are screaming from the grueling daily training rounds from dawn to dusk. Even if the days are getting shorter, they’re getting colder as well.
And I haven’t told Chevalier this, but earlier today I sprained my wrist while sword training. It really isn’t that big of a deal, to be honest. I was only squeezing in some extra swings before training officially began because a nasty nightmare woke me up too soon again. I figured I’d practice on the ancient oak tree we secured our tent to, and maybe set up a scenario where I’d “accidentally” sever the ropes and let the thing collapse on top of snoozing Chevalier, but I ended up tripping over one of the massive roots in the dark and tumbling down the hill.
He just had to choose the tallest hill.
“You are thinking of something asinine again,” says Chevalier.
“Definitely not,” I say, turning back to the letter. He is very lucky I injured my illegible hand.
I stuff said hand into my pocket and slowly stretch my fingers one by one, starting from the thumb, but my index finger only makes it halfway up before I have to muffle a grunt from the pain. I masterfully mask it by coughing into the crook of my good arm.
Another thwack of a figure placement, and Chevalier is back to reciting his correspondence. If he is upset that I just coughed on his sweater, he doesn’t make an effort to show it.
Yes, this is Chevalier’s sweater I am wearing. My shirt is all in tatters now after a certain fall down a hill (that I cannot believe I am bringing up twice in the same sitting). And my backup shirt is currently hanging outside, still dripping with this afternoon’s downpour. Chevalier took one look at me after I returned from practice and tossed me the sweater before I could get even one foot in the tent.
How very considerate of him, forcing his exhausted and sopping younger brother to change outdoors after sunset in October so his precious maps and documents wouldn’t get drenched.
I think I’ll leave a great big sneeze in the collar next, just to show how much I appreciate his prospective.
But I’d end up inhaling more wool than medically recommended before Chevalier would ever bother to tell me to stop.
I’m actually still in shock to even be wearing it, to tell the truth. I figured it was buried at the bottom of his closet half-eaten by moths. It had been years since I’d last seen the thing, when his grandfather gave it to him at his mother’s funeral. One of those events I figured Chevalier deemed not worth remembering.
But I remember.
I remember the way Chevalier stood in front of her grave after they buried her, pale and stiff and dry-eyed, like a flawless stone figurine. I remember how the Lord Michel walked up beside him and almost put his hand on his shoulder, but pulled away at the last second when Chevalier turned to look at him. And I remember how he looked back. How he shakily drew the folded sweater from his other arm and trembled as he presented it to his grandson, a boy not half his size.
“She’d want you to keep warm,” he’d said. I remember how cold his words sounded that day.
I remember how cold my mother’s hand was, too.
“Ow!”
The quill clatters on the desk as I furiously rub at my temple. When I open my eyes, a black knight lays atop my letter, shimmering dully in the single candlelight.
“What was that for?” I growl.
“You misspelled ‘accommodate’.”
“What?” I push the knight aside and count the letters of the last word I wrote. Two c’s and one m stare back at me in glossy ebony ink. I glance back at Chevalier. His hand is rummaging through the box again, but his eyes never lift from the map.
I pick up the quill and start to squeeze a mini m by the first when a second figure bounces off my head.
“Stop that!” I yell.
“Start over.”
“No way, it’s just a tiny fix. And I was almost done!” I hold the nearly-filled page up to him, but he still refuses to look.
“Then you should have been more attentive.”
“Who cares? It’s just going to Leon.”
“With my signature.” He slams another figure on the map with finality.
But I’m not finished.
“You rewrite it then.”
No response.
My seat flies back as I stand, but my cheek is pressed against the dirt before it reaches the ground.
My wrists are trapped and suspended in the air, but this time I can’t hide my roars of pain. They’d be louder I’m sure, but the knee jabbing into my back limits the airflow into my lungs.
My vision spins. I bite the inside of my cheek and force myself to breathe deeply through my nose. Wet, molding tent mixed with the unwashed stench of two teenage boys who haven’t bathed in weeks burns my nostrils, but years of experience taught me this is the fastest way to calm my nerves in these situations. Years and years and years of experience. My head is still going fuzzy though, and I can’t tell if it’s from the pain or the exhaustion.
I pry my stinging eyes open and focus on the closest thing to me. The candlestick rolls a few inches away, the shape of my clenched fingers imprinted in the wax column, its flame still burning.
I must look positively feral, but no more feral than the beast pinning me down.
“I expected more,” says Chevalier.
His fingers dig under the sleeves and into my wrists as he yanks, pulling my face a few inches off the ground. I gasp like I’ve just resurfaced from a lake, and crane my neck as far back as I can to meet his piercing stare. He’s waiting for an explanation.
His palms are like ice, and my teeth chatter as I bite back the urge to scream.
“Your hands are c-cold.”
That’s it? One month of endless belittling, cold-shoulders, and sleeping outdoors. My fingers are brittle from writing dozens of letters. My elbows and knees bruised from constant repairs to this tent. My hand drips with searing wax from my latest failed payback attempt. And the best I can come up with is your hands are cold?
I expected more, too.
He stares a bit more, longer than he has all day, before finally releasing me. I fall back to the ground and bury my face in my collar —Chevalier’s sweater collar— heaving breaths in and out my nose until my head stops spinning. It takes me a few minutes, but I eventually push myself onto my knees and inspect the damage. I had grabbed the candlestick with my good hand without thinking, and my palm is now almost entirely covered in the waxy sticky stuff. At least it’s quickly solidifying in this cold, but I don’t dare peel it off yet. I might end up pulling off skin, too.
My injured wrist, on the other hand, looks even darker than it did this morning, with splotches of blue and purple climbing up my forearm. I hold my breath and nudge it with a finger, but to my surprise, I don’t feel any pain. In fact, I don’t feel anything, except for the sensation of frigid digits tapping my skin.
“Get that checked and be back by noon,” Chevalier calls. Another surprise, he’s not at his map but at my desk corner, chair back upright, scratching away with my quill at blinding speed.
“Noon?” I repeat. “You mean tomorrow?”
“I mean six hours from now. The numbness will wear off soon, and you’ll hassle the medics with your obnoxious blubbering if you do not hurry.” As if on cue, the first specs of dawn trickle in through the tent flaps.
“I’m not missing training,” I say. “If you’re going, so am I.”
“There is nothing more foolish than a dying man demanding poison over cure.”
“I’m not dying!” I march over and pull my good arm sleeve up to my elbow. “See? You’re just being dramatic.”
Again he refuses to look my way, instead focusing on folding the paper he was writing on into thirds. He retrieves the fallen candlestick, elegantly prepares a stamp, and, as soon as the seal cools, stacks it and the other letters I prepared onto my outstretched hand.
“You will deliver the post and return in time to memorize this new battle formation before afternoon practice commences. With the correct hand bandaged,” he warns, pushing past me to his maps. “Do not fall short of my expectations again.” He picks a red soldier from the box and resumes his planning.
I push through the flaps before the thwack reaches my ears.
Even though the tent is meager at best, it still mostly protects us from the harsh winds that pound every night. The approach of dawn hampers the air, but a brisk rush still uncomfortably tickles down my spine as I approach the edge of the hill. The numbness in my hand starts to fade as I stare down at those jagged rocks, almost goading me to trip again, and I back up until my boot bumps the oak tree.
Chevalier did say I have six hours.
I stuff the letters in my armpit and start climbing the tree, slowly as it is still quite dark out and my hands aren’t exactly in best form. I also try to keep quiet, in case Chevalier won’t approve of my little recess.
Once I reach the highest branch that can support my weight, I throw my legs over the edge and lean my cheek against the trunk. It is cool and covered in morning frost; a welcoming sensation to my welting face. Not so much to my tense thighs, but if I learned one thing on this trip it is to hold on to any good happenstances because they are rare to come by. Or last long.
I pull the letters out again and straighten them. Leon’s is first, a tiny detailed rose drawn directly underneath his perfectly-penned name. That’s the code we came up with for documents that need to be read with high urgency. Chevalier likes his papers to be ordered by importance, both outgoing and incoming, and as I leaf through the rest I see he’s arranged the next one to Sariel, followed by Jin, and then to various nobles and ministers back at the capitol.
I sometimes wonder, if I wasn’t Chevalier’s shadow, could my letters top his piles?
My skin prickles with envy. He isn’t even the king, so why must everything be under his thumb? The land, the people, and now the words. Why not let these papers be picked up by autumn winds, like the golden leaves of the oak, with no drive or direction other than away from here? Embarking on a journey unknown, a glorious adventure beyond the confines of their pages, full of twists and turns and loop de loops never before scrivened by man. In the infinite realms of possibility, there exists a universe where they all land exactly where intended. But equally likely, they also may end up at the most inopportune destination.
I spread the envelopes like a hand of cards toward the Obsidianite border, a gentle wind growing from behind.
It’s really not so different from Rhodolite. We each have rocks and grass and bushes. Storms hound us both, the rising sun does not discriminate, and we both settle at night under the same starry blanket sky. This little sample of land shows even more, with our matching fortresses and battle posts, and there’s a high hilltop mirroring our own. It even has its own matching oak tree, though while mine still brims with flittering leaves of reds and browns, theirs stands thin and bare. So bare, it is impossible to miss the dark figure seated on the top branch.
Frostbite stabbing my thighs jumpstarts my senses, and I manage to hook my leg onto a knot in the trunk before the shock sends me tumbling down. I hug the letters and straighten my shoulders, looking back at my tree twin. How long has he been there? Has he been watching me? There’s quite a bit of foliage surrounding me. Does he even know I'm here?
I tentatively stretch my free leg, both to see if he’d respond and to encourage blood flow in case I need to make a hasty exit. A minute passes with nothing, but as soon as I start to lower my leg, a shadowy appendage protrudes from the figure.
So he can see me.
I raise my arm. This time the figure waves back almost instantly. Could I interpret that as neighborly? I don’t want to raise my voice in case Chevalier investigates. Instead I shrug my shoulders and wag my head from side to side. My neck is still sore from Chevalier’s little “rebuttal” earlier, but I hope the message is still understandable.
What do you want?
Another unresponsive minute goes by before the figure raises both arms. The first points a finger at me. The second beckons in his direction.
I look over my shoulder as though I expect someone else to be there. This can’t be serious, is he asking me to cross the border? The Obsidianite border? When we are at the cusp of war? Does this guy even know who I am?
I don’t have the time to conjure a reply before I hear my name called from below.
“Well met, Prince Clavis!”
So much for that last question. And for keeping Chevalier in the dark.
I scan my surroundings and locate a horseman at the base of the hill, waving a scarlet flag with a rose up at me. The postman has arrived.
For the first time on this trip, apart from the daily workouts, my palms pool with sweat. But this is a different kind of perspiration. Chevalier could pop out any minute, and my head whirs with what to say back to the stranger across the border before he does. Er—sign. Sorry, now’s not a good time? I’ll think about it? Can we talk later?
Do I even want to continue this conversation? I jerk my head back toward Obsidian, but the branch is just as bare as the rest of the tree.
“Is everything alright, my prince?” the postman calls, turning the direction I’m facing. “Is something happening across the border?”
“No, no. Everything’s fit as a fiddle! Just watching the sunrise,” I say, fumbling out of the tree. No light emerges from the tent, and I quickly poke my head in to confirm Chevalier’s sleeping form settled in a chair by his desk of maps. He lets out a long snore, and I let out a long sigh of relief.
After a slow descent of the hillside (I will not fall for the same fault twice in a row), the postman and I greet each other and exchange our stacks.
“I am very glad I ran into you, Prince Clavis!” His voice is cheery, despite the fact that he no doubt traveled the entire night. He isn’t originally from the capitol, I have everyone’s names and faces memorized there, but the flag he bears is reserved only for envoys from the royal palace. He looks about my age, with modest build and eyes not yet marred by the horrors of the battlefield. If I was to hazard a guess, I would say this is his first mission this close to the border.
“You are glad?” I ask.
“Indeed! I was instructed to hand-deliver those letters to Prince Chevalier. I feared it would be a great impertinence on my part to address His Highness personally, so I attempted to leave the letters with the general. However I was shocked to hear that you two were not staying at the fort! I was told your location was classified, but I really wanted to make sure I completed my first delivery. I never would have imagined royalty sleeping in a tent mid-autumn, of all places!”
Called it, but all I say is, “You and I both, lad.”
“But this could not be more perfect! I can trust you to pass these off to Prince Chevalier, then? Master Sariel said it is extremely important that he reads his letter as soon as humanly possible.”
I see now. This could not be more perfect because he ran into Chevalier’s middle man instead of the man himself. I stretch my cheeks into that wide grin and give him a polite nod. The boy looks pleased with himself as he bows and marches to his horse, and I take advantage of his turned back to drop my smile and peek at who’s top-pile today.
The deep purple seal pops in the faint light of dawn, rays sliding up and down the swerving curves of the embossed serpent like ethereal liquid, but it is the text on the other side of the envelope that locks my attention. Chevalier’s full name is elegantly printed in bold black. Below it, scripted in an equally flawless hand, are two roses.
My breath catches in my throat as I grip the paper tighter. The ink on the petals is slightly smudged, as though it was handed off seconds after drawn. Never before have I seen two roses, neither sent nor received, and the thought of what news they bear freezes the blood in my veins even quicker than the weather. Are we officially at war with Obsidian? Was a meeting held while we were away? Has Jade or Benitoite made a move, too? Or is it something domestic? Have the people finally started to revolt against this endless back and forth? Has something happened to the king? Has something happened to my brothers?
That last thought drives a final icicle through my chest. My eyesight blurs and my legs start to give way, but both are locked back in place as something large is shoved into my arms. It is still too dark to make out what it is, but I immediately register the residual heat it dissipates.
“And here’s the final package!” the boy says. I blink several times before I can make out the shape of the wooden crate. It is about the size of my torso, light as a practice sword, and feels like a tiny oven pressed against my chest. “It’s the other extremely important cargo piece.” He ends with a wink, mounts his horse, and departs before I have the chance to ask anything else.
My first instinct is there’s something alive in there, and I slowly lower the crate to the ground to not startle (or infuriate) it. It may be asleep, but there are no abrupt movements as I observe the box from all angles. If whatever it is was alive, it is highly suspect that it could survive the trip from the palace with only three tiny breathing holes. And the soury-sweet smell wafting out from them could not belong to a carcass.
There is no identification on the box, and I pull out the stack of letters again to solve this mystery. Sariel’s letter deadpans me with a scowl, almost like its author would, and I shuffle it to the bottom. It won’t make a difference if Chevalier reads it right this second or after I’ve figured out what’s in this crate. Each successive letter is from some general or marquess or duke, no doubt begging Chevalier for some fatuous favor because none are marked with roses, and I nearly resolve to just prying the crate open myself when a glint of pale pink catches my eye.
I grasp the final envelope in both hands and hold it up to the steadily rising sun, but my eyes are not playing tricks as the delicate figure of a cat shines back.
Why would Yves write to Chevalier?
Again, no roses adorn this letter, but I pull out my pocket knife and carefully lift the seal from the paper. I can practically hear Sariel squalling at me through the mouth of the discarded purple serpent, but I ignore it. This is a matter between brothers. Sariel could never understand.
My heart pounds in my ears as I unfold the letter to reveal Yves’s gossamer script, and I press one palm against the side of my head to steady it as I read.
Gladdest tidings, Prince Chevalier.
Thank you ever so much for taking the time out of your busy schedule to write to me. It brought me the greatest joy to receive your letter on my birthday, I could not stop myself from shaking with excitement upon reading it.
Shaking with fear sounds more like it. That answers why Yves sent this, but drops a new more important question: Why did Chevalier send Yves a letter? Surely not just to wish him a happy birthday.
While your sentiments are more than enough, I truly wished you and Prince Clavis could have been present for the celebration. It was a small affair, as usual, but it was a welcome respite from the turbulence of the court since your departure. I am sorry to say our people are not pleased that your two-day inspection of the citadel has turned into a month-long station at the border, and many nobles are demanding your return to the palace posthaste. They fear your decision to remain may anger Obsidian and incite retaliation, but they only speak their minds so freely knowing you are so far away. I have no doubt you will have received letters from them asking for your return, but I beseech your understanding of their apprehension in your responses.
I scoff, the cooled breath materializing before me. Leave it to Yves to think the best of the people’s intentions, but he hasn’t read the novels of resentment Chevalier receives each week. And he hasn’t penned the curt, cold-blooded replies.
Then it hits me, Chevalier sent a letter to Yves that I didn’t write. The paper wrinkles as my grip tightens, and I have to squint to make out the next lines.
Ah, but I am getting off topic. I am sure you tire from talk of military and government, Sariel is currently drafting a lengthy report to you on both as I write this, so I shall make this as brief as I can.
It will please you to hear that despite the political climate, the seasonal climate has been rather generous. The harvest has been bountiful this year, and while the people’s spirits are not at their highest, their bellies are full and they are thankful. It took some help from the other princes, but we even managed to prepare the extra set of treats you requested. I must admit, I worried I would not be able to bake and pack the lot in time for the post. I had wanted the delivery to arrive as fresh as possible, and it was only with their assistance that we prevailed. Even with their pilfering hands snatching ingredients left and right, I ask that you thank them as well when you sit down to enjoy the sweets.
The tart aroma hits my nostrils again, and I have to hold back from clawing the sides of the crate apart. I limit myself to prying off two boards from the top, and am rewarded with a waft of warmth and a cornucopia of baked goodies. My mouth waters as I stick my face through the opening, letting the heat and the smell envelope my senses.
Home. It really is a piece of home right in front of me. So close I can touch it, smell it, taste it… but I hold off on the last one for now. What if Chevalier sent a specific numbered order? I pull my head out and rest my chin on the top as I read the last part.
And speaking of the others, it will also please you to hear that they are all well. Prince Leon and Prince Jin have placated the citizens for now, and while it is fortunate they are a team of two, I fear their efforts will not last much longer. I have spotted Prince Nokto speaking to nobles as well, and despite his age he harbors a magnetic quality that calms even the tensest of brows. Prince Licht and I have been handling paperwork in the background, and we have learned much about our kingdom and its operations in the process.
Furthermore, I know you did not ask, but father is in good health as well. Though he seldom leaves his room these days and only speaks with Sariel. I fear his spirits are lowest of all.
I have a little space left on this page, so please allow me to use it to ask of my brother. You mentioned he has not taken well to the extended stay, I hope he is at least keeping himself entertained. Even with the disquiet of complaints, the halls never felt so still in his absence. But I believe he can keep up with you, we all do.
Lastly, I do hope you are both keeping warm. The previous postman reported the weather is much colder near the mountains where you are. It was a bout of good fortune Prince Jin managed to hand you your sweater before you left, was it not? But as you said, a decorated mantle does nothing to light the hearth, so please enjoy the treats while they are still hot.
Take care of one another, and I pray for your safe return before the first winter snow.
Yves Kloss
The hand reaching for the crate is automatic. It takes a couple chews before I realize I have bitten into an apple strudel. It takes a few more before I realize I am crying.
Hot tears stream down my cheeks and smudge Yves’s words as I hug them and the pastry to my chest. Weeks… months… years of what I could never put into words rock my body as I scream into the crate.
I don’t want to go to war. I don’t want to hurt anyone ever again. I don’t want to keep hurting myself climbing to catch Chevalier, because I know I will never make it. I just want to go home. Home where these treats were made. Home where these treats were shared. Home where these treats never fathomed a life outside their oven.
The sun is mostly up when the final cries exit my system. My body weighs like it ran to the palace and back, and I cannot even raise an arm to shield myself from the blinding rays or the chilling winds of early morning. The only thing I can do is bury my face in the collar of my sweater. Chevalier’s sweater.
Chevalier’s sweater is warm.
I wrap my fingers around the half-eaten strudel. It is warm, too.
Warm, like Yves’s hands when he pulls them out of the oven. Warm, like Licht’s cheeks as he stands tip-toed at the edge of the table and watches his brother set them down. Warm, like Nokto’s hugs when he ambushes his brother from behind, both in thanks and in distraction. Warm, like Jin’s ears as he swipes the top pastry and it disappears into his mouth. Warm, like Leon’s laughter as he prepares to pacify the situation.
Warm, like Sariel’s gaze as he watches the scene unfold. Warm, like my mother’s kisses that linger to this day. Warm, like Chevalier’s…
A sharp crack turns my attention back up the hill. The top of the tent rips and flutters in the breeze, waiting for me to patch it up again. Chevalier must be cold.
Pain throbs in my wrist. I peel the wax off my hand. I look back and forth between the citadel and the hill. Then between the border and the sun. I have many paths before me, and a good four hours left.
I stuff the rest of the pastry in my cheeks and collect the letters, careful to reseal Yves’s the way it was and return Sariel’s to the top. I grab the crate under one arm and start back up the hill. It is a long climb, yes, but one I know I can make.
*Nudges Yves* Get in there, Evie! You're the hero of this story! And uh, you can just stay where you are, Gilbert.
Tagging:@atelieredux @queengiuliettafirstlady @violettduchess @venulus
If you would like to be added or removed from my tag list, please send me an ask or a message
#ikemen series#ikemen prince#ikepri#clavis lelouch#chevalier michel#ikepri clavis#ikepri chevalier#cozytober#pumpkins & fireplaces#fall fluff autumn angst ccc#scorchie writes#tw: mentions of death#tw: grief#tw: injury#tw: pain
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ikepri moodboard
late night drinks with keith
even among book-lovers, prince keith possessed an insatiability for discourse, as if stories lived not within their bindings but in the reader's thinking gaze. he enjoyed collecting those thoughts as much he did reading. drink in hand, his smile was never gentler.
♢ ― created for the Fall Fluff Autumn Angst CCC
hosted by @aquagirl1978 and @violettduchess
day 2 . hot apple cider (with rum)
#fall fluff autumn angst ccc#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikepri keith#keith howell#ikemen prince keith#ikepri moodboard#moodboard#autumn
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Portrait of a Gentleman in disguise
Portrait of a Gentleman in disguise
Fandom: Ikemen Prince
Pairing: Clavis x MC
Prompt: 14 - Masks
Part of Fall Fluff / Autumn Angst Content Creator Challenge hosted by @aquagirl1978 and @violettduchess
Tag: Hurt Comfort Disguise Fluff
Word Count: 4.076
Author’s Note: A smile can hide more than what anyone could think, a disguise for a man who used to wear a mask to conceal his true self unbeknowst to anyone, an impenetrable armour he buit around his heart to keep his weakness away from prying eyes of anyone else but her, only capable to see through his layers straight into his core discovering a man whose genius went unknwon to many, ready to stick up to her belief never giving up to know him for real, finidng in the meanwhile a love worthy all the trials they faced together, becasue when the Leopard realize she is the one his heart desire he would stop to nothing to keep her safe and ensure her happiness with him against all odds, defeating everyone that dared to question his decision with the temper a true King is made of. 😉
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@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @lordsisterxotome @aquagirl1978 @violettduchess @atelieredux @klutzyroses @randonauticrap @thewitchofbooks @princess-pray-a @itsjudesfault
You can find me on AO3 as QueenJuliet 😊
Thank you for everyone who will like, reblog, or comment please be gentle with me english is not my first language so please do not leave rude comments I apologise for eventual errors I hope you will like it 😊
Kingdom of abundance, the sun ever present in the sky as all the people smiled happily doing their chores, the atmosphere bright and light as in few other nations, talking amiably about the royals making the reign this way, few exception to that rule but not strong enough to overthrow the government, much to the delight of the royals living in the palace.
She still remembered his words, spoke in such tender tone coupled with the alluring gaze in his bright amber eyes making her heart beat faster as she locked her gaze with him unable and unwilling to look away all through the ride, smiling softly at the memory of his kindness, his silly antics and soft words enough to reassure her all through the way to that weird ball she was invited in, his presence strangely comforting making her feel safe despite what everyone said of him.
A smile to wear as an armour to conceive doubts fears and emotions behind a quiet still facade for anyone to look at, what a better advice from someone who used to learn how to hide his true self from everyone else all the while showing them a mask and nothing more, a spectacles all their to see letting them talk about him, his mischief catching more notice than his accomplishment ever did and so he continued for no one really knew what he would have done to be noticed be it for once, be it for a despicable reason even if this meant putting a lid on his true self never really sharing anything with his brothers, who by the way considered him no more than a prankster, not really paying attention to the small child screaming for attention with his whimsical tricks.
His mask stayed on with him, with everyone not faltering once, not even in front of Gilbert face, yet something swept in to change that when she among all people was appointed to chose the King and brought to the palace, playful by nature and with the amazing capability of understanding people she saw right through him from the start challenging him as much as she challenged her both of them determined to be the winner of that peculiar game they loved to play in order to discover more about one another.
“How do you see yourself as King ?”
His smile stay unmoved on his lips, a playful answer on the tip of his tongue but spoke with so much certainty she would have not hesitate to take it as honest if she did not knew better than to read between the lines of his overflowing confidence, a cover for insecurities too deep rooted in his core to be ignored shameful weakness he had to protect at very cost to avoid painful comparisons too harsh for his already wounded heart.
“The best King Rhodolite could ever have. I will make it a bright nation allied with everyone and enemy to none, improving each facet of culture. No one could do anything but love and acclaim me as the most wonderful King this country has ever seen in his whole history.”
A polite smile on her lips she thanked him for the answer, dwelling on his every words as she get through the day, thinking about every surface of that crafted lie told her, even though she was believed in every single words he spoke she saw as clear as the day he did, probably considering the scenery of him becoming King no more than wishful thinking, much to her dismay, sure his place would have been taken by a much more capable man than him, a genius prepared to take this place longer than he had, even though in her opinion there was no better man than him to begin with, compassionate and empathetic enough to love and be loved by all his people for his crafting nature and clever mind who soon will have gained the envy and admiration of the the nearby nations.
The idea of giving up on him far from her mind as she kept eating the food he so carefully prepared only for her, the mere idea of all the effort he went through to prepare it melted her heart keeping her warm during that frizzy autumn morning spent in the garden, leisurely spent chit chatting with the princes, ignoring their astounded gaze as she happily gnawed on strange looking biscuit widening her knowledge with seemingly random question she used to know their personality before switching to more deep question, absorbing every words spoken studying every body gestures coming from them all to know which one would have be the right one to sit on the throne.
Aware of his forlorn expression in his eyes when she ignored him for too long, feeling him shift unperceivable closer to her hearing him interrupt her question with casual question she almost could mistake for silly attempt to be under the spotlight, but she knew better than to be this fool to not see the bright glimpse of mirth flickering in his eyes as she gave him the attention he desired, not bothered in the slightest she gifted him that pure and candid smile he adored as she carefully took one of his bonbons, savouring it to the fullest shooting him a grateful breezy gaze before shifting her attention back to the princes, bidding them goodbye as the leave for the day she continued mindlessly to eat idly chit chatting with him, taking him aback with intense questions he strangely did not expected.
“Why do you hate Chevalier ?”
His smile faltered for a mere second, a glimpse of displeasure flickered in his amber eyes before he could conceal it, to collect his thoughts and put a lid on the his true self she had not so casually attempted to discover he closed his eyes briefly, adjusting the mask over his scars before he reopened them again, his gaze locked on hers with his usual smile back in place impenetrable and still as ever, but she dared to say that day was to be considered a success, for she managed, be it for a fleeting moment, to have caught something deeper hiding below the surface of the breezy fun loving trickster he presented himself to be, something he did not wanted anyone to see, desiring to conceal what he saw as weakness behind a smile all that to feel an equal to him, this thought alone make her heart clench painfully for him, her smile softened on her lips as she gazed at him, admiring how gorgeous he was bathing in the first light of the morning sun, wondering how someone so clever as him could not even see his own value, like she did from their first meeting as clear as day.
“He is the only thing standing between me and the throne. If I get rid of him it will be easy for me to be crowned in his place. I doubt someone desires for him to be the monarch but there is nothing it can be done if you chose him, so it would not really matter if he ends up being the King or not.”
“But for you it will.”
in his golden eyes a glimmer of dazzle, he looked intensely at her wondering what kind of spell did she casted on him to be able to see through his mask he so carefully crafted for this to be avoided, counting her in as one of the few person capable of seeing past it straight to his core, every word and gesture of hers speaking of affection and concern piercing in his heart a bit more each day, leaving him in awe not daring but begging for more needing craving it with every fibre of his being, things she never failed to give, before he knew it he was already so madly in love with her to not know what to do with himself, yearning more than he ever did in his life for him to be enough to let her stay.
How she managed to see through him so clearly was still a mystery for him, though he had secrets to keep and a facade to maintain, despite what she would have discovered he had to make the show go on, to play the part of the funny gentleman, hoping … he did not even know what he hoped for anymore, a part of him desired her to see his true self to see his flaws his weakness and love him all the same deciding to stay against all odds while another part desired for her to go away, to settle in with someone better than a mediocre loser like him, someone who could have made her happy genuinely happy without all that issue he had, desiring for her happiness at the cost of his own was the first and definitive sign he really was madly in love in with her and there was no going back, feeling his heart beat faster at each gentle smile offered to him and him alone, fluttering with affection at each word of affirmation fleeing from her lips in her soft sweet voice that never failed to mesmerize him lost in his own reveries fruit of her magic love spell she casted on him.
He shook his head, enough to collect his thoughts speaking again, hiding behind a smile how her words hit the target of his own insecurities forcing a miniscule crack on his flawless mask letting her see a glimpse of what laid behind for a second enough to make him worry about her true intention, not able to craft any lie enough strong to cover his distaste for him he changed the subject making the unaware people of the kingdom star of his show, object of his words she surely would have seen through but he had nothing better to offer in the place of a lie that would have sounded far too shallow and fake for such an observative clever girl like her.
“However I do not think he will manage to make people happy, that is, he is too heartless to satisfy their desires, moreover his obsession to save the kingdom at all cost already alienated him the sympathy of several persons for this I can not imagine how he will end up if he becomes King for real.”
She nodded politely, thanking him for the wonderful food he cooked going on with her day as usual, busing herself all afternoon writing down her recent discoveries, finding much to her surprise the great part of her notebook filled with information and thoughts about a certain hellcat everyone wanted her to avoid, she should have steer clear away from him but ever the contrarian she did the opposite guided by her everlasting curiosity, proving everyone she genuinely enjoyed to spent time in his company, taking any chance she could to discover more about that strange but gentle man who intrigued her to no end far more than all the others combined, worthy to have catched her attention all to himself for once.
Strange emotions wavering in her heart each time he flirted with her, Oh so cruel playfulness of his making her heart flutter and waver with every smile he so casually gifted her, revelling in that little, intimate touch of his fingers as he combed through her hair adjusting a rebel lock behind her ear looking at her with such a soft expression she was unable to do anything but lock her gaze to his admiring the way his amber eyes shone and flickered in the warm light of the setting sun, feeling bold strokes of red brush colouring her cheeks as he gallantly took her hand in his leaving a single feather like kiss on her knuckles, leaving her desiring for more, craving his touch his calloused hands on her skin, caressing her with reverence each kiss speaking of inherent devotion and heartwarming affection waiting for her as reward for her effort to see through him, to spend time actually understanding who he really was instead of dismissing him as a mere hellcat as everyone did, even his brothers, wishing to see his smile genuine and pure gifted to her and her alone, yearning to hear his laugh resonated still and clear the air letting the breeze carry that mirthful breezy sound all over the garden sliding unnoticed among the palace walls, filling her heart with love.
“Do you love me for real ?”
His smile faltered for the first time in a whole month, enough to let her see clearly through the crack on his mask before he could manage to dissimulate it feebly by taking her hands in his, brushing his lips over her knuckles lingering a bit longer on her ring finger, a promise and a wish she yearned for it to become true as her heart beat loudly in her chest in his alluring gaze, his eyes shining like molten golden in the warm light of the sunset while a bit more crooked yet honest smile appeared on his lips while his thumbs brushed over her hands still cradled in his warmer ones, affection seeping through that little gestures surpassing the soft yet stiff fabric of his gloves only obstacle depriving them from the intimacy of that act, faking a distance they both chose to close day by day getting to know one another despite interdictions and advices they ignored blatantly, their hearts tied with the red string of love growing tighter at each moments shared together.
His voice a low seductive murmur as he spoke gazing straight into her gleaming eyes to convey all the feeling he keep bottle up into his heart only for her, no words nor gestures enough to show the depth of the love and devotion he held for her but still he would have never give up crafting each and every day new ways to show his true feelings to the only woman that ever loved him not giving up to any of the whimsical test he invented to make sure his trust was well placed enrapturing him with how strongly she clinged to her belief remaining true to her heart against all odds.
“Of course I do my little rabbit. How could I do anything but ?” gently he lift his fingers to brush over her cheek his touch strangely sensual as he slide his thumb across her cheeks, his eyes welled up with affection with an edge of playfulness as his feather like touch brushed over her lips
“How can you doubt it ?” a glimpse of sadness flickered in his amber eyes as a forlorn smile curled his lips at the thought he was so useless and inept to have been incapable even to show her properly his love, he not so secretly harbored for her since the first day he meet her in town, growing fondly each day since that first breakfast party where she beamed excitedly at his homemade meals gnawing happily on a pink cupcake that in his eyes should have looked like a rabbit yet in the eyes of everyone else was anything but, expect in hers she was special like him in that moment he had the first of many proof she was the one he was looking for the only one who could understood and love him for who he really was.
"You are gorgeous and kind, clever and gentle, you have so many talents please trust me." it was the truth he really did think all he said along so many more thing he was way too shy to speak of for fear of looking weak and vulnerable in front of her eyes, freezed by the terror to see her run away after facing his true self, far away from being strong and mighty like his brother would have had but he cared little for in that moment she was the only thing that mattered in the whole world for him, more than anything and anyone has ever had, the only girl who decided to stick up with him long enough to see past his mask straight into his heart.
“Do you love me ?”
it was her turn to blush refusing to let him know the honesty on her heart for fear of being mocked, yet her trust in him could not be ignored fearing to hurt his feeling and so she nodded shyly her gaze locked on her fingers still laced with his slowly she raised her eyes to look at him with a sheepish smile on her lips only to be taken aback from what she saw, his composure she believed nothing could scratch was nowhere to be seen, his golden eyes misty moved by her honesty as a crooked yet gentle smile curled his lips, this was his true form, without filters his mask shattered to the ground its pieces mixed with hers, fallen immediately after his, and in that moment she sweared he never was more beautiful.
Her smile gentle as she managed all her courage to stare at him in his eyes, for her love was too strong to be left misunderstood from him, too important was for her for him to understand to see her love even at the cost of mockery she had to show him, she owed him that to the only man who managed to gain her trust cherishing and encouraging her with words of gestures any time she felt down, hesitantly she leaned her face on his her lips trembling lightly as she leaves a soft kiss on his cheeks.
His voice low and tender as he spoke, his hands squeezing hers tightly trembling unperceivably as he bare his heart to her
“I love you my sweet little rabbit.” her smile bright and warmth enough to put the sun itself to shame melting fear and doubts leaving his golden heart on display only for her to see
“I love you too my leopard.” his heart swelling with love and pride at that soft nickname she crafted only for him, the first to actually acknowledge his worth first to compare him with his royal animal far more noble than an hellcat everyone called him by.
Her sweet voice clear resonated in his heart placating his demons for a while, her eyes faltering not even for a second as she spoke to him of things too long kept as secrets into her, far from feeling bold enough to confess until now.
“You are the most amazing man I have ever met. You are such a kind, clever, sweet, playful, caring prince I doubt nothing you would be an amazing King the best Rhodolite has ever seen.”
Taken aback hearing his same words quoted back at him he stared at her in disbelief, meeting her eyes gleaming in the dim light of the garden as she continued unbothered, determined to make him understand how much she loved him, not shying away from telling him every single thing she thought about him
“Please trust me “
a troubled smile appeared on his lips looking back at her as her thumbs brushed over his gloves, his eyes locked on her for a moment she thought he may have burst out laughing at his naivete, laughing at her, it would have hurted more than what she could have ever said but she had to do this she had to prove him her love for his trust was at stakes if she give up now, betraying a whole month of confidence and secret they shared together after collecting enough to open up to another person she knew how hurtful her shyness could have costed him in that moment leaving him alone amidst the ocean of insecurities hidden behind his smile, her fingers reached to cup his face brushing her thumb over his cheeks feeling a single tear wet her fingers as he looked straight at her, he gulped uneasily at lack of words for once as his voice resonated in the air in a soft shy murmur
“Do you really think that … of me ?”
she answered promptly as if it was already on the tip of her tongue waiting for her to speak a truth too long forgotten
“Yes.” gently she smiled at him squeezing his hands in hers hearing the note of sadness in his voice as he continued
“Do you really think I am better … than him?” she giggled softly nodding all the while before looking back into his eyes, the smoldering warmth of her smile spreading in his whole body filling his heart with so much happiness he did not know what to do with himself
“Far better Clavis.” her gaze dripping with honesty as she proudly beamed
“You are and always will be the best.” a soft sigh escaped his lips, the coked sob of an insecure child mistreat and frowned upon since ever compared to his brother a lone star shining bright in the sky of their Kingdom made to be King, if not for that girl who first believe in him with all herself in an instant all that seeker of reconnaissance gone replaced by the approval he wanted to have from her and her alone.
“Please do not doubt your value Clavis because I do not. You are so talented and empathic, a genius of your own believe me, you are incomparable to him because you have something he did not use.” he look quizzed as her finger reached for him placing her palm on his chest looking straight into his eyes, their heart beating in sync like ones as her words resonated in the air shattering years of loneliness and insecurities with her love
“Your heart.” she cupped his face with both her hands murmuring few inches from his lips
“I beg you do not change ever.” a surge of emotions impossible to contain pushed him to slide closer to her, cupping her face melting his lips on hers in a sweet slow kiss to convey all the love he felt for her, feeling her fingers curl on his shirt to steady herself amidst the wave of emotion washing over them.
Reluctantly he pulled away smiling tenderly at her before leaving an achingly soft kiss on his forehead, a promise he would have clinged to with all his being to protect her at every cost, ready to face the brutal beast himself head on if he dared to lay even a single finger on her, a gruesome duel worth to look at if he dared to wound her either with his sword or his tongue, smiling happily they run through the garden, finding the doors of the palace closed they chosen to change their plans dancing amidst the rain laughing carefreely like children, until they were completely soaked running through the palace halls ignoring the astounded gazes of the servants and indignant voices of his brothers complaining about things that had no idea about, huddling safely in her room not after a brief visit to his where she gathered a change of clothes for him, spending all night chit chatting of this and that, excited to know everything about one another staying up until dawn when they finally drifted asleep together their finger laced to one another so tightly to make impossible for him to leave her side, thing he resigned himself to not wake her basking in her gorgeous blissful expression he meet once more in his own dreams, thanking all the universe for that whimsical kind girl he was lucky to call his lover more than ready to spent all the eternity by her side doing everything he could to make her happy taking the moon and the sun itselves only to make her smile, knowing no boundaries for the things he would have done for her, their love something he never dared dream of but secretly yearned for, apple of his eyes he devoted his life to, only one capable of believing in himself even when he did not, of cherishing an hellcat everyone considered a bother, to make him smile when he finds the hardest to, to make him trust in his capabilities with her unwavering confidence in him and for this there was nothing in the whole universe he would have not done for her in the name of love.
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Pumpkins and Fireplaces 2022
I have been hiding this since early August... ahhh 🧡🧡🧡
Guys, Fall is my absolute favorite season, so I made a fluff/Angst challenge to go with all my favorite fall things.
I AM NOT ACCEPTING REQUESTS... There is a mix of Ocs/mcs/ and readers.
IKeRev and IkePri only. These are the characters I chose to go with. I love them all very dearly.
Feel free to tag me if you want to use these prompts. #Pumpkins&Fireplaces2022
Pumpkins &Fireplaces 2022
Oct. 1-31st
Prompts:
Crunching Leaves while walking
Visiting a Haunted Place
Candles & Fireplaces
Hay Ride
Corn Maze
Playing in Leaves
Baking/ Apple picking
Cozy family activities in front of a fireplace
“Here take my jacket”
“What do you think about couples' costumes?”
“You have a leaf in your hair”
“Your hands are cold”
“Look I dressed up as you”
Costume Ball
Tagging: @thewitchofbooks , @queen-dahlia , @canaria-blackwell , @kissmetwicekissmedeadly , @aquagirl1978 , @psychodreamer666 , @ikesimp100 , @queengiuliettafirstlady , @gilbertvonobsidian , @citizensofcradle , @devildomwritersposts , @ikehoe , @kpop-and-otome , @littlewitty , @namine-somebodies-nobody , @curious-skybunny , @lordsisterxotome , @atelieredux , @violettduchess - If your name is crossed out I was unable to tag you. If you want to be tagged/untagged please let me know or fill out this form here.
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Ghosts of the Past
Rio's past has always fascinated me. Nokto's route slightly hints at Rio having a possible connection with Bentonite so I took the idea and ran with it.
Written for @aquagirl1978 and @violettduchess 's Fall Fluff / Autumn Angst Content Creator Challenge, Prompt 6, Ghosts. Thank you both for the opportunity to participate in this lovely challenge <3
WC: 446
SOMEWHERE in his memories, he saw an endless expanse of blue. Rocking and swaying inside something (his head hurt every time he tried to remember the details), surrounded by the sounds of water. Whether it was splashing or pouring on to him, Rio didn’t know. Still, he assumed it was from that rainy day he lost his memories, in that carriage accident three years ago, when he found himself in a country filled with roses, madly in love.
He had no ghosts of the past, but the lack thereof of haunted Rio. He didn’t look or sound like anyone around him, but when people asked him where he was from, he had no answer.
“I fell from the sky as a present to you. I was born to love you, I was made to be your future husband!”
He liked to think that the clouds gave birth to an adult man with eyes the colour of the sky they covered; a custom delivery for the woman who found him. It would mean that Rio was safe. Safe to court the lovely bookworm who rescued him, safe to live the rest of his days in domestic bliss.
Unfortunately, Rio was far too diligent to believe his sweet fairytale. Ghosts swarmed around his head, whispering of a life long forgotten. Loud enough to let him know that they existed, but too quiet for him to make out what they were saying.
However, when Rio entered Rhodolite’s royal palace years later, the ghosts in his head began to scream. They wrapped around his limbs, possessing him, guiding him through the grand halls of the castle he was sure he never visited before. They pried open his mouth and lips to speak, to navigate high society though he was sure he never learned before.
None of it was anything compared when he heard the name Bentonite in the halls of the place. It wasn’t that Rio didn’t know of the seaside nation, but something about hearing it discussed as a political entity, overhearing hushed conversations about treaties and trade deals made the ghosts in his head go insane. They tore his head apart, clawing at his brain for memories lost in a vast expanse of water—or were they memories of deep waters, lost in the downpour of the rain? Rio didn’t know, and he never wanted to know.
Rio wanted to believe that he was some random, insignificant person that no one would miss. It had to be the truth—he wasn’t important, he was simply a man who loved the woman he served, his first friend. But ghosts don’t haunt those who are insignificant.
#fall fluff autumn angst ccc#very mild spoilers for Nokto's route#ikemen prince#ikepri rio#rio ortiz#angst#ikepri
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Autumn Daze
Pairing: Gilbert/Mc (Pre-relationship)
Word Count: 1890
Tags: Fluff, Pure straight fluff, Gilberts kinda a weirdo, desecration of Chev's poor book
Summary: It's finally time for you to have a full day to yourself- and Gilbert decides to join in.
Written for the Ikepri Gift Exchange, hosted by @ikemenlibrary and @sunnyikemen ! I received @daegupaksu as my giftee- I hope you enjoy it!
Out of all the rooms in the palace, the space that you deemed your own was not just the guest bedroom they had provided you with, but a lovely secluded seating area. Despite the fact that it was a bit out of the way and clearly unused unlike the others, the fireplace was still maintained well enough to light, much to your delight.
It was there that you snuggled in on an early autumn afternoon. The temperature was low enough to justify all of your favorites: the lit fireplace, comfortable blankets, and a warm drink to sip at while watching the colorful leaves blow past the window. Warmth cascaded down your throat, and you smiled, forever grateful Yves begrudgingly taught you his hot chocolate recipe.
The star of the show that tipped your mood into excitement sat beside you, cover glinting in the autumn rays, was the coveted book you had been seeking for months now. Found in Chevalier's library, all you had to do was promise a new book in return for him to let you borrow it. Your luck had been running high lately, and you counted your blessings for it as you cracked open the book.
Of course, perhaps planning such a day proved your hubris. Deep in the pages of a torrid romance, you missed the gentle tapping of a cane coming closer to the couch you sat at. No- you didn't notice the outside world at all until a puff of air hit your ear, Gilbert's voice tickling.
"I found you, little rabbit."
As much as you wished you could say you calmly faced the visiting beast, that would be a bold lie. Because when Gilbert spoke in such a low, teasing voice, your body's first reaction was to yelp and clap your book shut- effectively losing your place.
And control over the now rapid beat of your heart.
"Prince Gilbert!"
Hand over your chest, you wearily looked at him, frowning as he laughed.
"Ahaha, you're so easy to scare. What are you doing in such a secluded room?" His eye scanned the area, landing on your plate of snacks.
"Enjoying my free day… alone."
"I'd like to join you."
"...."
With the games that Gilbert played, you knew the only options for this were to accept letting him linger, or deal with the consequences of being 'forced' to let him cozy up with you. And out of those options, you quickly relented, wanting no arguments.
It wasn't as if spending time with him was awful. Past his 'threats' when you ignored him, he seemed oddly interested in you, so there wasn't too much bickering between the two of you. The more you thought about it, the less you could recall having a genuine bad time with him. There were too many moments between the two of you where he patiently listened as you talked about the latest book you read that clouded your memories. When the two of you were alone, he seemed different than described.
Plus… if he was here with you, others were far less likely to interfere with your day off. You'd gladly sacrifice a book and some of your snacks to ensure more peace today
So you relented, scooting to make more room on the couch, moving the pile of blankets you had gathered.
“I was expecting a little more bite from you.”
Even with admitting that, he shamelessly sat beside you- close enough to where the only space in between was excess from the blanket you had draped across your lap.
Resisting rolling your eyes, you settled in a bit further against the arm of the couch, trying to ignore how Gilbert toyed with the blanket.
“Sometimes, I don’t see the point in getting into an argument when the peaceful option would benefit me more.”
“Hehe, what an odd way to say you’re enjoying our time togeth-”
“There’s some snacks on the table, though I didn’t account for more than me, so there isn’t a wide selection.” You cleared your throat, searching through the pages of your book to locate where you had been interrupted.
“What’s this?” Gilbert lifted the kettle left on the table, inspecting.
“Yve’s hot chocolate-” The excitement in your voice dwindled as he wrinkled his nose, setting it back down immediately. He downed sweets at an alarming pace, a feat that made those witnessing it stop and stare, but he didn’t like hot chocolate? “...and also water, in the jug beside it.”
Without further prompting, he took the glass you had set aside for yourself and sipped at it. You tried to ignore how he deliberately drank from the spot your lips had touched, the faint coloring of your balm leftover on the surface gently coating his lips.
"And are these books from Chevalier's library?" He asked, reaching to pluck one from the stack resting on the table.
"Yes, he usually lets me borrow the ones he's already read."
A hum was your only reply. Gilbert promptly accrued a pile of snacks from your supplies, resting the stack on his thigh as he cracked open the book. Seeing how he finally occupied himself, you went back to your novel, seeing where you had left off.
.
Steady munching brought you out of your mesmerized state, echos of the fantasy you had been reading fading away as you focused on something much more important: being able to borrow books from Chevalier again.
You looked in horror as Gilbert ate while reading, uncaring that small bits were settling into the crevice of the book he read.
"Prince Gilbert… If you get crumbs in that…"
"What do you mean?" Another page flipped, crumbs surely caught between.
… Well, at least Chevalier never reread books. Maybe you could find a replacement if cleaning up was a disaster.
Gilbert cocked his head as you continued to frown, an innocent smile playing on his lips. For a moment, you wondered why you fathomed he would care about Chevalier's books.
Giving up with a sigh, you set to find where you left off, trying your best to remember what was going on in the story before the conquering beast attempted to stop your heart.
But… curiosity always got the best of you. Rereading the same passage for the fifth time, thoughts preoccupied, you realized with both of you 'distracted', you could potentially see a rare sight: Gilbert with his guard down.
Or, as close as you could get, anyway.
Pretending to be entranced by the text in front of you, you tucked your hair behind your ear, using the motion to peek at the man beside you.
And…surprisingly, he did seem relaxed. His one eye scanned the pages in front of him smoothly, a cookie poised at his lips as he contemplated the words he read. It was a bit difficult to discern if he was enjoying the novel, but with how he was reclined into a comfortable position, you were hoping that was the case. Suddenly, it felt important that he respected your reading tastes. A feeling you tried to muffle quietly.
And with that same 'glance' that had turned into a soft stare, you began to understand that the tight feeling in your chest wasn't one due to the conquering beast sitting beside you.
It was due to Gilbert, idly thumbing the corner the page, his focus making your heart flutter.
Had…he always been so attractive?
"You've been on the same page for a while now, little rabbit."
That red eye of his flicked towards you suddenly, making your heart thump painfully. You tried to ignore his grin as you hurriedly focused on your book again, ears burning.
.
“What did you do that for?” The woman exclaimed, looking disdainfully at the man before her.
His brows furrowed as she set her hands on her hips, frown set firmly as he sheathed his sword once more.
“Figured you might be more grateful. The man was bothering you, was he not?”
“Well…”
Ah, nothing ever seemed to go right between the two in this story. But you could feel the main character’s defenses slowly lowering, as the gruff man forced to accompany her on the daily showed his respect in newfound ways. Yet, just as they got closer, one of their emotions would get in the way, halting all romantic progress.
You were sure there was more explanation to be had, however you couldn’t help the fantasies of being in her position instead- working to understand such a man.
Breath held, you read onward, devouring how the male lead seemed to stumble over an apology for his assumptions, having to accept his brash actions were not always the answer. Each new tidbit of information regarding him made your heart beat sound louder in your ears, and just as you reached the telltale dramatic sigh before the true apology was spoken…
Gilbert’s hand came into your view, brisky stealing the book out of your hands.
“I-what? Huh?” You had to blink for a moment to register the absence of pages within your grasp, turning to him in confusion.
“I’ve been talking to you, little rabbit. After you never responded to my declaration of war, I thought I would give another chance-”
“But it was getting good…”
In response to your pout, you thought you saw a flash of a strange emotion in Gilbert’s eye, one that wouldn’t make much sense given how the two of you weren’t close enough for it.
“I’m bored, little rabbit. How do you intend to make up for ignoring me?”
.
This position was…
Settled between his legs was one thing, but Gilbert had gone so far as to set a new book in your lap, resting his chin on your shoulder. It felt like you were just a stuffed toy of his, being held close to his chest as he read.
Your initial offer of letting him have the rest of your snacks didn’t go over well. Instead, he just smiled until you looked over at the table, seeing how every last crumb had been devoured. Of course…
And in your annoyance, you muttered he could choose what he’d like for atonement. An idea you assumed you’d regret the moment it slipped past your lips, but now here you sat. Shared blankets over your laps, Gilbert’s steady breathing against your back, his soft sigh of contentment tickling the shell of your ear.
It was surprising, how your muscles eased so instinctively in such a position.
"Have you finished the page?"
"We're reading together? But my other book-"
"You're done with that one, aren't you?"
… For today, it seemed. Overlooking the text, a memory slowly reformed as you picked up bits of the story. Combined with the striking black cover of the book peeking from behind the pages, you were sure of the answer before you spoke.
“Is this that book you recommended a while ago?”
You could feel the way his lips curled into a smile, his hold on you tighter for just a moment before he hummed an affirmation.
Well… It did seem interesting. Perhaps reading it like this wouldn’t be too awful?
Accepting ‘defeat’, you let yourself sink into his embrace, considering that while maybe that flash of jealousy in his eyes felt misplaced, what spawned from it was a rather comfortable end to your day off.
I hope you enjoyed this, Daegupaksu!! If there are any details or mannerisms you'd like me to change, please let me know 🙇♀️ For clarification sake, the little '.' randomly between paragraphs are supposed to be scene breaks - tumblr always gives me trouble and doesn't space them out for me properly if I don't put Something down.
Taglist (Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!): @yarnnerdally @katriniac @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @bakaneko-chan @skoetiepoetie @bestbryn @nightghoul381
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#ikepri#ikemen prince#ikepri gilbert#ikemen prince gilbert#for a very long time this was labeled as 'giftobert' in my drafts
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Would You Rather Ikepri Scenarios
Fandom: Ikemen Prince (otome game)
Featured characters: Clavis, Chevalier, Cyran, Keith, Licht, Sariel, Yves, Luke, Jin, Leon
Genre: Shenanigans and Spicy Romance
Rating: 14+
Word count: 5
Description: Would You Rather poll result scenarios! Your faves and a couple of mine.
WARNINGS: | spicy scenarios, nothing terribly explicit | it would seem I underestimated my appreciation of introducing spice from 0-100 lmao | mxw |
Clavis
This idiot is gonna be the death of me: a timeline.
8:00 - The Kidnapping.
I blindfolded Clavis and got him to the awaiting carriage.
8:15 - Arrival (And Hasty Lipstick Reapplication).
After a… entirely uneventful carriage trip into town, we arrive at the surprise destination. A school.
8:19 - The Reveal.
To my surprise, Clavis gasps in absolute delight as the ‘Science Faire’ banner is unfurled, and the crowd is ushered into the dining hall, set up with tables and experiments everywhere. A child or two stands nervously beside each setup (none of which I could explain at a glance).
8:26 - Wow He’s Already Having Such A Good Time.
Clavis holds a little girl up to pour a concoction into a paper-mache mountain, and the gathered crowd shrieks and cheers as a fiery, foamy explosion goes off.
9:34 - My Lover’s Ego Is Irreparably Boosted.
“You’re the best, Mr Clavis!” “See mine next, Mr Clavis!” “Wow, you’re so smart, Mr Clavis!”
10:15 - Everyone’s New Favourite Prince
After going to every single table, chatting with every single child about every single science topic, we reach the end.
10:18 - The Inspirational Speech (And Intervention)
Clavis is asked to give a speech on the importance of science and being curious, improving the mind and inspiring innovations of the future. I step in quickly once the topic turns to pranks.
11:53 - The Luncheon
After a luncheon of being inundated with students, parents, and fawning teachers, we finally escape back to the carriage.
11:59 - The Long Ride Back
Another entirely uneventful carriage ride that takes the long way back… for no particular reason.
Chevalier
“I finished number three.”
“Four is on your left.” My eyes flick up to her in the jostling carriage. We’ve been reading non-stop since dawn. The northwestern territory is a long journey from the capitol, but the simpleton insisted on accompanying me nonetheless.
To pass the time, I brought a book series we recently discovered.
While I began book five, she began three. Her body showed her weariness, but her eyes showed her enthusiasm for the story. As she swayed to the motion of the carriage, her ankles crossed with mine, a smile tugged at my lips.
So this is bliss.
Cyran
“I think that’s the last of it,” he pants. “Finally.”
Behind us in an abandoned wing of the castle is a room filled to bursting with crates, boxes, glass tubes, and flasks.
The reason for our frantic gathering task: a vial found by the gardens labeled ‘Hallucinogenic Gas’.
Cyran helped me find Prince Clavis’ secret stash of illicit powders and such, and we hastily removed them to a temporary hiding place.
I lean back against the railing of the abandoned staircase to catch my breath, but the knight bolts forward. I gasp as he roughly pulls me into his arms.
“My lady! The masonry in this part of the castle is in disrepair, it might not… might not be safe.”
Suddenly realizing our proximity, he clears his throat and carefully steps back. I am grateful for the dim light of the evening to mask my furious blush.
Cyran crosses his arms and leans against the wall. “You certainly are brave to go up against him like this.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “You’re either brave or stupid to work for him like this.”
He smirks, and brushes a lock of red hair from his face. “Both, milady. No doubt.”
I am left unable to doubt the reason my heart starts to beat faster.
Keith
We lie in bed together on an oddly warm autumn night. The windows are open, a brass telescope still set up, pointed towards the stars. My nightdress is bunched around my thighs, one of which is draped over his. Keith’s large, gentle hands stroke me slowly. One on my hair, and the other on the sensitive skin of my wrist. He traces constellations there, holding me to consciousness just enough to be able to guess most of them. In the silence, we breathe together, in our own little world.
Licht
The spring breeze bends the blades of grass around us as I try to unfurl the picnic blanket. My first try, however, underestimates the power of this breeze, sending it up and over my head.
A gorgeous, heavenly, completely unexpected sound rings out - Licht’s laugh.
He helps toss it back over my head to free me, a smirk on his lips. I look up at him with what has to be a lovesick grin.
“What’s that for?”
“I love you.”
His crimson eyes widen at my declaration. Then he melts into another precious smile. “I love you too.”
He leans in towards me for a kiss, but suddenly we’re falling, sprawled in a tangle of limbs and blanket.
“Marron!” he gasps, grumbling as he quickly sits up. The beautiful horse tosses its head behind us, stamping impatiently by the picnic basket.
I can’t help but laugh. “You’ll get your carrots soon enough, goodness.”
My lover’s face twists a little. “Carrots?”
“I packed them separately, don’t worry.”
He huffs a sigh and pulls a stray leaf out of my hair. “Good. Otherwise I’d have to eat you out here instead.”
Our eyes meet, red tinting our cheeks.
“There’s always room for dessert…?”
Sariel
The padded bench in the library has evidently long been a subject of fierce contention.
There are rumours in the palace that Prince Nokto lost his virginity on this bench. Not to mention all of the maids and noblewomen who claim to have been… entertained by certain princes there.
However, considering that it was part of the palace’s original architecture, they couldn’t tear it out.
Sariel finally ordered that a compartment be opened up beneath it to store bolts of replacement fabric every time it was proven… defiled.
After one such replacement, I found the devil one early morning, asleep on that very bench he hated so much.
Surrounded by the pale silver morning light streaming in from the tall windows, he looks like something out of a dream. Seeing him looking so restful, my own tiredness is brought back to my attention.
Next thing I know, my books are on the floor, and I’m settling in next to him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” comes his sleepy response.
“Nothing, go back to sleep.”
He sighs, stretching out his legs. “This is awfully early for you to be up, anyway, isn’t it?”
“Yes. But I missed you, and I was too happy to see you here.”
His eyes finally open. Their amethyst depths consider me, wrapped around his arm. At last, his lips twist into a smirk. “I just had this fabric replaced too. Pity.”
Yves
I felt guilty, at first, using her as my personal doll. But she seemed perfectly happy, excited even, at the prospect of me choosing her outfit for the day. She put on everything I suggested, sitting obediently as I fixed her hair. She then insisted on putting on my earrings for me. Not that I know why! It was a silly thing to do, I’m sure. I am perfectly capable of putting on my own jewelry, thank you!
My lessons and chiding her on matters of etiquette have finally begun to pay off. Even her walk is improving. She looked far more the part of an elegant lady today. Naturally, after spending so much time in my presence, my impeccable mannerisms were sure to rub off at some point.
But then… she was awfully tired when we finally returned to the palace. It would have been a bother for her to stumble on the stairs on the way back to her room, so… I offered she stay in mine. And then… I offered to help her out of her jewelry. …And to brush out her hair. …Then out of her corset, and dress. Then… Oh enough already! You nosy snoop, you know exactly what happened so just get out of here already! You don’t need me to say it!
Luke
Luke’s chest makes a wonderful pillow as we lay in the grass, pitch black night all around us. The gentle breeze blows the water of the nearby pond, making a soft lulling background for our stargazing.
“There’s another one!” I point to a streak of silver in the sky.
“Hm, I wish… for more honey cakes.”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “You’ve wished for honey four times already!”
He chuckles, the sound resonating around me. “I’m running out of things to wish for! There’s too many!” He grabs my arm as another cosmic line catches his eye. “There’s one!”
“Alright, I wish for… a kiss.”
Luke freezes for a moment. “A kiss…? Alright then.”
Next thing I know, I’m sliding down his muscular torso to his lap as he sits up. Leaning down, he grins at me. “Seems kinda silly, to waste a whole shooting star wish on just one kiss.”
Our lips meet briefly, and we stare at each other. “…Should I wish for more than that?”
Something flashes in his emerald eyes, and he runs an arm beneath my legs. “I think you should.”
Jin
I grunt as I’m forced down onto the stone floor… again.
Jin huffs above me, his chest heaving a little from the exertion. “That’s another loss, kid.”
I groan, and his laugh quickly morphs into a serious expression.
“You really need to get this self defense stuff, ya know. You need to take this seriously.”
Grateful for the momentary respite, I laugh. “Hm, I didn’t think I’d have to explain to you of all people the ability to take something very seriously… while having the time of your life.”
His burgundy eyes widen, as does his grin. “Oh, having the time of your life pinned underneath me, hm? You like being manhandled?”
I bite my lip in response and have the perfect view while his mind short circuits.
He licks his, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Leaning in close, he whispers in my ear, his voice rich and deep. “Alright then, naughty thing. If you manage to get away from me three times, I’ll do all this to you naked.”
“…Deal!”
Leon
At first it sounded like a terrible idea. Who in their right mind would climb onto the roof of a castle??
And yet, I should have had more faith in him. He had found, years ago, a flat spot outside of a window on the top ministerial floor, away from prying eyes and balconies.
And so we cuddle close with his cloak over both our shoulders, a basket of snacks between us (definitely not stolen from Yves’ discarded reject batch), watching the sunset.
…Hopefully no one questions the scattered crumbs and frosting of an exploded cookie down in the courtyard.
Not by best work, but hopefully worth a smile or two~ Any writing suggestions?
#norel writes#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikepri sariel#ikepri keith#ikepri jin#ikepri chevalier#ikepri clavis#ikepri leon#ikepri licht#ikepri Yves#ikepri cyran#ikepri cyril#ikepri luke#chevalier michel#jin grandet#sariel noir#yves kloss#clavis lelouch#leon dompteur#Cyran rose#luke randolph#licht klein
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A Gentle Love
Pairing ~ Chevalier Michel x Reader
Word Count ~ 786
Author's Note ~ My first Chevalier fic of the autumn season!!! I'm so excited about this fic, because soft Chev is my entire weakness. It's also my first fic for my Cozytober event, and I really really hope you enjoy it! No warnings, just tons of soft, autumn, white tiger fluff!
Prompt: No. 4 "The Dead Waltz"
Lyrics: "...wrapped your long hair up in vines, and leaves, and branches..."
You maneuvered again, curling even deeper into the settee as you snuggled under the cloak. It was thick and warm and a soft velvet that could make even the most stubborn cat purr. You breathed in the fresh scent of vetiver and shampoo that lingered around the fur at the top, keeping you close to your lover even as he completed his duties for the day elsewhere.
It was a chilly day, the breeze nipping your face as it swept through the beautiful garden of slowly wilting roses. The fall of the year was swiftly on its way, and you smiled up at the colors raining down on you from above. The book you had brought out with you was long since finished, and now you merely waited for the owner of your blanket to join you. But as you gazed down at the leaves the trees had gifted you, you decided you wouldn't let them go to waste, and propped yourself into a sitting position on the settee. You gathered the leaves into a pile in your lap, then leaned down to the vines in the grass and tugged at them, smiling as you began your creations.
Chevalier never walked with anything less than purpose, but swifter lately had his exits from the office become; hastier, more hurried. Once his work was complete, it was as if he could not bear another moment without the comfort of his lover at his side. So wherever he was, wherever you were, he rushed to you. This afternoon he found himself traveling to the gardens, remembering the sweater you were wearing when you had stopped in earlier, and the twinkle in your eye as you swept out of his office, the most recent book he'd gifted you under your arm.
A smile tugged its way to his stiff lips, the muscles there still not totally used to showing affection. But you were the exception; his only exception. His feet stopped when he reached the plush settee that rested near the garden's entrance, and his smile settled further into his lips as he beheld you, sleeping softly underneath his cloak, your long hair wrapped up in vines, and leaves, and branches; the myriad of colors was twirled into your braided hair effortlessly, as though a creature from fantasy had done it by hand as you slept.
Chevalier had never been religious, but perhaps God was working to make him a believer, he thought, for the woman before him could be no less than an angel sent from the realms of heaven. You tamed his beastly side, you awoke in him emotions he believed he could never have, and you ignited such a fierce love in him that at times he wondered if he would burn to death from within.
He approached with silent footfall, not wanting to wake you just yet, and chuckled quietly at the crown of leaves and vines you had created for him, and left atop your dozing form. He reached for it, and in an act so unnecessary that he chided himself for being foolish, fitted it atop his blond locks and gingerly sat down beside you, laying his hand on your shoulder. You stirred ever so slightly and struggled to open your eyes. Once the light no longer pained you, you gazed up at the beautiful sight before you. While you slept, your lover had arrived and indulged in your creation. A smile tugged on your lips and you yawned, your body pulling its way to full awareness.
"Good afternoon, Chevalier." You murmured, smiling up at the angelic glow surrounding his handsome face.
"Is the crown of Rhodolite too garish for my head?" He quipped, humor gleaming in his bright blue eyes.
"Even the most capable king needs a little less weight to carry sometimes." You chuckled, pulling him down for a kiss. But Chevalier was a greedy man, and one was never enough. Somehow, he managed to curl into the settee beside you, his cloak covering the both of you in its warmth. He had used his cloak as a blanket many times, out on the battleground campsites, in the midst of war; but never like this. Never before had it felt like a cover of safety, an entrapment for the love he shared with the woman he loved, a home of peace.
But as he gazed down at you, so content and trusting in his arms, he decided he would never again take his cloak to the battlefield. For it belonged here, in the arms of his angel, as a reminder of the human man that would return to her when he came home to wrap her up in his arms again.
🎃
Tags for the Lovelies: @rhodolitesroseforclavis @aquagirl1978 @ikehoe @queengiuliettafirstlady @maries-gallery @veervers @nightghoul381 @itsjudesfault @xbalayage @kissmetwicekissmedeadly
#cozytober 2023#cozytober follower celebration#autumn#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikemen series#chevalier michel#ikepri chevalier#ikemen prince chevalier#chevalier michel fluff#chevalier michel x reader#chevalier fanfic#chevalier michel fanfic#otome game#cybird#cybird ikemen#cybird ikemen prince
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Hiya, Vi! 💜
May I please request Clavis + 5 + Fall Fluff? 💕
Thank you so much in advance 🙈🥰
A/N: A second Clavis fic in a row. Reading his route is doing something to me 😆
Pure fluff
Word Count: 1054
“Sweetheart.”
You look up from the book you’re reading to find your husband leaning back, arm lazily slung over the back of the desk chair, his handsome brow furrowed slightly as he stares at you. Outside the cold autumn rain drip drip drips from an endless sky of soft gray clouds. The wind yanks brown leaves from swaying trees, scattering them everywhere. It catches the chilled raindrops as they fall from the clouds and flings them around, careless and gleeful as a destructive child. It truly is an evening to stay inside.
“Yes, Clavis?”
“I’m just reading over a letter concerning the latest shipment of Jadean wool, which reminded me.”
Uh oh. You had hoped he had forgotten.
“Didn’t you say, way back at the beginning of summer, that you were using this exact wool to knit me a sweater?”
Damn him and his excellent memory. You had hoped that maybe little things like, oh, your wedding, would have kicked this tidbit of information out of the steel-trap that is his mind. You also should know better.
“Oh, that.” You drop your gaze back to your book, shrugging your shoulder in a way you hope looks both casual and elegant.
He knows you too well. You have now piqued his interest with the intensity of your “do-not-ask-me-about-this” response. He abandons the letter and gets up from the desk, walking over to the window seat where you are curled up, still pointedly not looking at him.
“Did you finish it?”
You purse your lips, lowering your nose to the page of your book, pretending to be deeply, deeply interested in whatever is happening there. You however do not lie to your husband so you answer with a small, high-pitched “Yes.”
Delight brightens the gold of his eyes like sunlight illuminating a pirate's treasure chest of coins. Your book is lifted out of your hands with all the enthusiasm of a toddler tossing aside a boring toy.
“Show me!”
You want to say no but he is smiling and it’s that honest, wide-open, field-soaked-in-sunshine smile that he only deploys when you are around. The smile that you would take on an army for, the whole damn world for. The one that keeps your heart alight.
With a sigh like a white flag of defeat, you slide off the window seat much the same way the raindrops are sliding down the window pane. His gaze follows you as you make your way to the brown leather trunk at the foot of your bed. Kneeling, you suppress the urge to sigh a second time as you lift the heavy lid and reach down, past the soft blankets and sheets, past the silken ribbons and pillow cases, until you reach the bottom where your fingers search for and then find the soft, hidden Jadean wool.
Carefully you lift it from its grave at the bottom of the trunk and it is reborn in the light of your bedroom, a mass of lavender and yellow wool that makes you cringe just looking at it.
There is a sparkle in his eyes you can’t quite read. Is he aware that this is going to be a huge disaster or is he genuinely excited and are they really mutually exclusive? You turn, biting back the groan that is struggling to escape your throat and thrust the mass of wool into his arms.
“Here.” Might as well get it over with. He’ll see it is a horrible monster of a sweater and he’ll take it off immediately, probably with a teasing, but very truthful poke at how truly awful it is. There’s a reason you banished it to the bottom of the trunk without breathing a word of it to him.
Clavis strolls over to the full length mirror in the corner of the bedroom and shakes it out. You already see the too-long sleeves, the uneven hem, the odd, half-turtleneck collar you couldn’t quite decide on. You pinch the bridge of your nose, a swimmer readying herself to dive into unpleasant, freezing water.
“The colors are so unique.”
You had been trying for lavender and gold. What you got was muddy purple and an obnoxiously bright yellow, a color that screams for attention and then does nothing at all to deserve it. He tips the wool bush over, searching for the opening and then before you can stop him, pulls it over his head and you watch as it swallows him whole.
There is some wiggling and then with a sharp intake of air, his head of soft navy hair pops out from the misshapen collar. Oh this is so much worse than you feared. His arms are still lost somewhere in the labyrinth of warm wool. You can see them, wiggling around under the material, searching for the entrance to the sleeves, which hang down like a sad, droopy mustache.
“Clavis….” you start to say, ready to draw a sword and rescue him, but then the most amazing thing happens. He spins around, arms still struggling under the sweater which has glommed onto him and refuses to let go and his eyes are wide with wonder.
“Sweetheart…….is this……did you make me……a trap?”
Your brain malfunctions as it tries to process what he said. Your mouth realizes that the brain is useless and helpfully takes the wheel.
“Yes. Yes I did.”
He beams, his eyes turning into pools of gold, soft with love and disbelief at your thoughtfulness. Still trying to free his arms from the maze of your sweater, he manages to walk over to where you are standing. He leans towards you and you quickly step forward, meeting him halfway so he doesn’t tip over.
He plants one sweet, affectionate kiss on your cheek and then for good measure, adds another one right next to it. When he leans back, you see the delight painted all over his face.
“I love you,” he says, his grin as bright as sunlight on raindrops. “Now let’s see how long it takes me to get free!”
You sink down slowly onto the trunk at the foot of your bed, a half-smile on your lips, a whole ocean of love in your heart.
“I love you too,” you sigh, watching him entangle himself further in the nightmare of a sweater. “I love you too.”
🧶
Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @atelieredux @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesroseforclavis @somekidnamedkai @ikemen-prince-writers-posts @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @ikehoe @redheadkittys @themysticalbeing @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @leotoru @queen-dahlia @moonstruck-writing @scorchieart
#ikemen series#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikemen clavis#ikepri clavis#clavis lelouch#fall fluff autumn angst ccc#fluff#monster sweaters#ikemen fanfiction#ikemen fanfic#violettwrites
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Hi Aqua! May I please request for Gilbert + warming hands + fluff pretty please please please 🙏🏻💖
Hi @queen-dahlia - always nice to see you in my inbox! How's yes yes yes? ❤️❤️❤️
Warming Hands - Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader (Ikemen Prince)
A/N: Part of the Fall Fluff/Autumn Angst CCC hosted by myself and @violettduchess
Pairing: Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader
Prompt: warming hands
Tags: fluff
The wind howled outside, rattling the windows of the palace as you made your way through the palace hallways. You soon came upon the main entrance, only to find the door whisked open as if it was blown open by a cold gust of wind. Pulling your shawl tightly around your shoulders, you were surprised by the figure who greeted you.
“Prince Gilbert…” You stood there, unable to move despite wanting to rush to his side; instead, you stared at him, his dark hair and cloak covered in snow. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be out in this storm.”
“Storm? This is just a light flurry, little rabbit.” He laughed, brushing the snow off his shoulders.
Concerned, you approached him, your hand tentatively reaching out, your fingers running through his cold, damp hair.
“You shouldn’t have been out in this weather,” you scolded gently as you wiped away the snowflakes in his hair. Your gaze turned down; taking his hands in yours, knowing how cold his temperature normally is, you were not surprised to feel his skin was now cold as ice. “We need to warm you up,” you muttered under your breath.
Taking his hand in yours, you dragged him off in search of the nearest room with a fire, not noticing the smile that lit up his face as his hand gripped yours like an iron vice.
Breathing a sigh of relief, you were thankful when you found the common room empty. The fire had long been extinguished, but it would be easy enough to reignite.
“Sit,” you ordered, easily pushing him down onto the nearby couch, surprised he put up no protest. The act was almost too easy, as if he was a willing participant.
“Do you always treat your enemy with such kindness?” he asked with a laugh. “Are the other princes treated this way as well?”
You pursed your lips as you mulled over your answer while adding another log to the fireplace. “You were cold; I would have acted the same whether you were from Rhodolite or Obsidian.”
It didn’t take long before a fire was blazing in the hearth; impressed with your skill, you glanced at Gilbert, who had now removed his gloves and was rubbing his hands together, a pleased sound leaving his lips. You found yourself admiring him, wanting to reach out and touch his hands, to twine his long, elegant fingers with yours, and see if he still felt ice cold.
There was a small snort of laughter, breaking you of your reverie. Your eyes caught his, his red eye warm, reflecting the flames flickering before him. He tilted his head, as he so often had when he looked at you, like he was guessing your next move.
You weren’t sure what came over you - maybe you were trying to surprise him - but you suddenly dropped to your knees before him. The urge to touch him was too great; you took his hands in yours. Upon feeling the still cool sting of his skin, you wished to share your warmth with him.
Massaging his palms with your thumbs, you held his gaze as you brought his hand near your face. Close enough to leave a kiss on each fingertip. As tempting as the idea was, you ultimately released his hand, satisfied that his skin now felt sufficiently warm.
His lips turned down in a frown, you couldn’t help but notice the flash of disappointment that filled his beautiful face. Was Gilbert sad you did not act on your thoughts? Did he want more than a kiss? Maybe a bite?
You would never know the answer to those questions. You quickly stood up, and upon doing so, removed the shawl from your shoulders.
“You need this more than I do,” you whispered in his ear as you wrapped him in your warmth. Spinning on your heel, you walked out of the room, a smile adorning your face as you left Gilbert sitting there alone, wrapped in your shawl.
Tagging: @redheadkittys @alixennial @rhodolitesrose @atelieredux @ikehoe @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @devildomwritersposts @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @altairring @lucyw260 @lordsisterxotome @violettduchess @scorchieart @umi-adxhira @bellerose-arcana @yarnnerdally @crypticbibliophile @gilbertvonobsidian
#fall fluff autumn angst ccc#ikemen series#ikemen prince#ikepri#gilbert von obsidian#ikepri gilbert#ikemen gilbert#ikemen fanfic#ikepri fanfic#otome#otome games
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Seasonal Vibes Meme
So, saw a prompt on twitter about what seasonal vibes a character/ship gives off, so I think it'd be a fun question for here and a good writing exercise:
What seasonal vibes does your OC / squish / ship give off? Are they like spring or winter? Can also include not so traditionally thought of seasons, like the rainy season, harvest season, winter/spring thaw, a local holiday season, bug season, etc.
For those that wanna do this too, you can do your OC (fandom or original), or even just your favorite fictional squish at the moment.
For those that wanna do ships, sky's also the limit. MC x canon, OC x canon, canon x canon, selfship x canon, romantic or platonic, doesn't matter, just whatever the seasonal vibe is with a lil blerb as to why that is.
No pressure tagging: @lorei-writes, @kissmetwicekissmedeadly, @scummy-writes, @honeybyte, @batteryrose, @drachonia, @limonzu, @tsundere-mitsuhide, and anyone else that's wants to play.
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Houki/Mitsunari (IkeSen): Spring, Sweet blossoming beginnings. Both are discovering new things around them (Houki quite literally as she's from a different world all together, Mitsunari learning about love and confidence) and while there may be storms along the way, they help each other blossom into themselves.
(plus it doesn't help that @beni-draw-ikemen-please drew them surrounded by cherry blossoms a while back, so I'll always think of them with the springtime vibes)
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Ophelia/Kennyo (IkeSen): Late Winter/Early Spring Thaw. Times of deep turmoil coming to an end so that something new and wonderful can grow. They both have troubling things happen to them in the past, but as time passes, they learn to grow as people and to put the harsh times behind them so they can have hope for the future.
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Thea/Theo/Arthur (IkeVamp): Summer. Time of high heat and fun adventures. They bicker and tease each other a lot of the time, but they never turn down having an adventure together. Whether that adventure consists of solving some small mystery in town, walking hand in hand in hand through an art gallery they helped set up together, or challenging each other in cards or arm wrestling in the gaming room, they never forget that doing it together is the best part of any adventure.
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Abby/Vincent (IkeVamp): Autumn. Change and reflection on the times of the past. Abby goes through a lot changes in her life, Vincent being present for a lot of her later changes, sometimes even triggering them himself. But he always wants to be a part of her life, especially after he lost her the first time, putting a change in him that rippled across all the lives they had connected with before.
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Maddie/Harr (IkeRev): Early Summer. Not as young as they used to be to be like spring, but still want to have the fun they had/didn't have in their youths. Harr is a hardened academic at his core and Maddie is discovering magic for the first time, three decades into her life. They have insatiable curiosity despite not being spring chickens anymore. Their lives are shaped by their pasts yet they still want to explore the world and discover more of its mysteries and wonders.
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Clara/Nokto (IkePri): Rainy Season. The sun after the rain is much more beautiful than the sun before the rain. At first, Clara hated Nokto. She hated him for taking advantage of her and for putting her in situations she felt she had no business being a part of. However, once his masks were washed away, as it were, she saw who he was underneath. How much this man actually cared, about the kingdom and about her despite his wicked ways. How tightly he held her when he opened up about his insecurities, about how much better everyone else was compared to the jester he made himself out to be. How he didn't deserve the ray of sunshine she was, how jealous he was about her open and honest ways. How much he wished he could be like her. And once the rain stopped and the sun came out again, they found the other much more beautiful drenched but smiling. That though they went through some hard times, they still came through the storms to see light again.
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Miri (Obey Me): Spring, She doesn’t have a set suitor yet, but the ones that I have romantically shipped her with (and with all her platonic ships too), she has the aura of spring: sweet, innocent, blossoming love, sometimes a little unpredictable in the newness of everything. She wants to be kind to everyone, even if it sometimes is a detriment to herself. She wants to do right by the three realms, even if that sentiment maybe a little naïve compared to others who have lived through harder times than she has. Yet her newness and fresh outlook has changed some of even the toughest of opponents and has helped heal and soothe even the bloodiest wounds of the past. She's bringing about positive change in a world that doesn't want change but desperately needs it.
#krys's adventure's in fanfiction#krys's babies#ikesen oc#ikevamp oc#ikerev oc#ikepri oc#obey me oc#houki of jiyel#ophelia of revaire#dorothea reid (oc)#abigail clarke (oc)#madeline fleming (oc)#clara laurent (oc)#miriam (obey me mc)#ikemen sengoku#ikemen vampire#ikemen revolution#ikemen prince#obey me#just a fun lil thing I saw on twitter#then posted it in discord#and now I fleshed it out and posted it here
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Change for the Better | AO3
Characters: Keith Howell, Yves Kloss, Licht Klein
Summary: A gentlemen's tea party with gentlemen's banter.
Word Count: 777 (we hit the jackpot with these 3!)
A/N: Part of @aquagirl1978 & @violettduchess's Fall Fluff Autumn Angst CCC. Thanks for setting this challenge up, you two! This one is going to fall under Fall Friendship Fluff.
Prompt: Changing seasons
Life changes too fast. First you’re waking up on the wrong side of the bed, then you’re tripping over breakfast to catch a breadcrumb of lunch before rushing back to work, and next thing you know it’s 1-in-the-morning and you’re still on your first cup of tea. It’s almost as if the only constant in life is that nothing was constant. That was how things seemed to be shaping up for Keith, anyway.
Though as much as life tried to throw alterations into Keith’s path, he persisted along with his head held high and a hand over his heart. Such was expected of him as a prince, after all. And it wouldn’t do for a prince to complain when there were those who had far more legitimate reasons to be upset. Like the farmer whose bull had grown old over the summer and can no longer help him in the upcoming harvest. Or the widowed noblewoman whose only son married for love despite objections to the girl’s commoner background. Or the red-faced young prince before him, whose once magnificent 3-tiered buttercream cake now only sat on the garden table with 2 levels.
“I swear, one day that man will eat himself into a coma. Mark my words.”
Yves muttered under his breath as he carefully ran a knife over the top of the remaining layers, smoothing out lumps of uneven frosting and disturbed autumn-themed sugar decorations. Between the sighs of despair and the huffs of wrath, it was hard to believe Yves still had air in his lungs to pick at his brother.
“It is only a testament to your unparalleled skill that Prince Jin targets your desserts alone,” Keith offered, craning his neck from his seat on the settee to get Yves’s attention. The canopy of red and orange leaves surrounding them limited his view, but he could still make out the agitated veins protruding on the side of his face. “Please, you need not make such a fuss over it. I think the cake still looks remarkable.”
“It looked ten-times more remarkable before he got his grubby hands all over it! But not to worry, Prince Keith, I am nearly finished repairing the most egregious damages.”
Keith wanted to say more, but Yves was locked in that mode he once heard Nokto describe as Ultimate Baker Beast. Yves would still listen and respond to those around him, but all his thoughts and actions were 100% focused on his hands, and he won’t snap out of it until he’s completely satisfied with his work. It was a talent Keith admired every time he saw it put to use, if not feared.
Instead, he reached past Yves, careful not to interrupt the complicated culinary surgery, for the plate of mini sandwiches and nibbled on one quietly in between sips of white tea. He smiled at the light taste of spreadable cheese mixed with herbs atop the bed of freshly sliced squash and wondered how the farmer was faring back in Jade. Certainly a lot more would get done if Keith was there to help, but he tried not to linger on that thought for long.
“How is it?”
Licht inquisitively poked his head around Yves’s figure from the other end of the table, a half-eaten dariole in one hand.
“Very good. I heard you prepared these sandwiches, Prince Licht? Excellently done,” said Keith.
“I was just following Yves’s instructions. The first batch had too much cheese, but I thought they tasted alright.”
“We’re trying to highlight the flavors of the season so you can’t hide the vegetables no matter how much you dislike them. And stop hoarding the darioles!” Yves piped in. Licht shut his eyes and popped the rest of the dariole into his mouth, as though that constituted his response.
Keith let out a chuckle. “I think it’s wonderful that you keep each other in check in the kitchen. Why, when left to my own devices I—” he paused, cleared his throat, and looked at his lap. “Well, let’s just say I never hear the end of it from the cooks.”
Licht opened his eyes and Yves finally looked up from the cake, both resting quizzical looks on Keith. Keith cupped his giant hands around his tiny teacup, feeling utterly undersized under their gaze, and took a long sip.
When he lowered the cup from his mouth, he found the plate of darioles placed in front of him and Licht walking back to his seat.
“Well, nobody is perfect,” Yves said, cutting a piece of still-spotty frosted cake with a smile. “But that doesn’t stop us from trying our best to change for the better.”
Next I wanna do an autumn angst, but pretty cool that Keith got his route announced, amiright?
Tagging:@atelieredux @queengiuliettafirstlady @violettduchess @venulus
If you would like to be added or removed from my tag list, please send me an ask or a message
#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikepri keith#ikepri yves#ikepri licht#keith howell#yves kloss#licht klein#scorchie writes#fall fluff autumn angst ccc
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