#ikemen gift exchange
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Smarty Pants
Pairing: IkeVamp Leonardo x MC
Summary: She was surround by constant reminders of how she didn't quite fit in with the others. She had made progress, and with Leonardo's support she was feeling more and more comfortable in the mansion, but still not fully settled. After a heated discussion with Arthur, though, she decides enough is enough. Much to Leonardo's enjoyment.
Word count: ~2400
Warnings: None!
Notes: This is a gift for @technicolorbirds as part of @ikemenlibrary's My Ikemen Valentine Gift exchange!! I hope you enjoy, Birds :)
***
“Arthur, you’re being gross.”
“All I’m saying, sweetheart, is that a lovely, voluminous skirt leaves a little more to be desired-”
“I don’t care. Women DO wear trousers in the 21st century. They’ve been wearing them since like…the 1920s!”
“Those poor, sexually unfulfilled modern day men. A moment of silence for their losses.”
“You…women look hot in trousers!”
“Must be so sad.”
“Weren’t you literally alive during the 1920s?!”
It had been around half an hour since Leonardo stopped reading his book, his eyes peeking above the pages. A smirk had crept up his face as his gaze dashed between the players of this verbal tennis match. He wondered if he should have left the room when this began, but he was finding it far too amusing. The others rarely challenged Arthur these days, often opting for an eye roll or simply walking away, but she never let him get away with anything. It was refreshing.
And attractive, if he was quite honest.
Leonardo had been keeping a watchful eye since she started living in the mansion. He had heard her footsteps grow stronger, more purposeful, as she explored the halls. He had noticed that the pause between those approaching footsteps and the creak of a door had become shorter, in fact now there was barely a pause at all. And his favourite, was she no longer snuck away back to her own room after their nights together, but rather snuggled up next to him to rest. She was finally settling in. However, he knew there was still some work to do.
“As informative and entertaining as this conversation has been, I unfortunately must be taking my leave now. Can’t leave a lass waiting for too long now, can we?”
He watched her roll her eyes before letting out a huff, “Poor girl. Send her my condolences.”
The comment clearly flew right over Arthur’s head, as he blew her a kiss and slipped out of the room.
Leonardo wasn’t expecting the silence that followed, nor to be met with the back of her head when he glanced up from his book, which he promptly shut and placed it on the table next to him. He waited to see if she would speak first, and when she didn’t, he shuffled over on the sofa and patted the space next to him. The sound finally made her look up, and with a slight gesture from Leonardo, she joined him.
“What is it, cara mia?” She had laid her head on the back of the sofa, and he wasted no time smoothing the hair off her face, letting the strands curl around his fingers before cascading across her shoulder, “You know he just likes to rile you up, you should pay him no mind.”
She sighed, lifting her legs to lay across Leonardo’s thighs. “I know, it’s just moments like that where I realise how differently I see the world than you guys. And I know you all come from different times so none of you really think the same either but,” she let her eyelids droop, sinking into the feeling of Leonardo’s expert hands tracing shapes along her calves and lightly scratching against her scalp. How lucky she is to have the hands of an artist and a genius have their attention fixed on her. “I don’t know. I guess the gap just feels bigger and that makes me feel smaller.”
“I don’t understand how you consistently manage to take the things that make you otherworldly and turn them into insecurities.”
She opened her eyes, only to be met with complete and utter sincerity in the shade of amber, “You don’t understand because you’re an artist. You love those things.”
“You’re right, because they make beautiful art. And who enjoys beautiful art, hm?” When she didn’t answer, he filled her silence. “Let me rephrase that, who doesn’t enjoy beautiful art? Can you think of a single person?”
“I understand your point, grandpa,” she said with a grin, which he easily returned when he felt his words getting through to her, “I just want to be desirable to you, that’s all.”
That statement made him stare a little blankly at her. He knew of her feelings of inadequacy, which he’d promptly tried to squash multiple times before, but undesirable? He doesn’t know a time when he ever lacked desire for her, in fact there were many days where his desire for her proved troublesome. The word “silly” sits on the tip of his tongue but he bites it back. She needed more than a knee jerk comment. She deserved his understanding.
“Cara mia, I’ve been around for a very long time. I’ve seen nearly everything, so nearly nothing is exciting to me now,” his voice lowered, and his head leaned in, “and yet, you fill me with exhilaration even at the mere thought of you. And this is only heightened by how much of you I still have yet to discover. The men in this mansion need to have seen a good thing to finally understand just how good it is. But for me I find-”
Before he could finish his thought, before his hand could finish its journey up her arm and before his lips could reach their final destination upon hers, her eyes widened so wide Leonardo nearly felt reason for concern.
“I HAVE THE BEST IDEA,” she shot up from her place, nearly taking out a pile of her books as she dashed to the door, “THANK YOU, LEONARDO!”
Leonardo was almost dumbfounded at the abrupt explosion, but the thought of mischief he had accidentally facilitated was enough to satiate the disappointment that lingered for only a moment. Nevermind, he’ll prove his previous point to her later.
But for now, he picked his book back up and continued reading, his lips curled in a satisfied smirk at the possibilities of what her wonderful brain would come up with. He knew he was in for a treat, and possibly, so were the rest of the mansion.
He felt smug, however, knowing he would be the only one who’d get to taste it.
***
She flew through the halls of the mansion with ease, her mind fixed on one thing and one thing alone. She reached Leonardo’s bedroom, which had been more or less shared in recent months. She had her own space too, but she simply preferred being in his. She preferred his random, almost illegible notes scattered across his wall, and preferred the subtle smell of pencil shavings, well loved candles and fresh flowers that sat on his windowsill. He only started doing that last one when he met her, she imagined. His room never looked the same as it did when she first entered it, and he never looked more comfortable in it, either.
She left the prickling feeling of nostalgia at the door and immediately moved to his chest of drawers, opening each one with great vigour. Leonardo had always said that anything in his room is fair game, that what’s his is hers. And whilst she didn’t imagine he had this particular item in mind, she felt safe in the assumption that he wouldn’t be in the least bit bothered, as he rarely was.
She had been settling into the mansion for the better part of a year now, and the days of tip-toeing around had long since passed. She had found her place, but too often was she bothered by that prickly reminder that she was inherently different. Not only as the only woman in the mansion, but as seemingly the only one who hadn’t adjusted to the era she found herself in. Certainly the only one was still fighting it.
She enjoyed her talks with Comte over tea, as he was the closest one to understanding her life before, though understanding wasn’t just what she was looking for.
And she supposes that’s how she latched onto Leonardo so fast.
Even though he didn’t have that understanding of what her life looked like before, he had this uncanny ability to trace it back to the root. He reassured and comforted her on things she didn’t realise she needed reassurance or comfort on, but she did. Leonardo knew that. Because he understood.
Everything fell into place after that.
It was easy to find what she was looking for: a pair of trousers she knew he wouldn’t miss. In fact, she doubted she’d ever seen them on him in the whole time they’d known each other. Based on the colour alone, she suspected they were a gift from Comte. Considering the sheer magnitude of their history together, she was surprised by how much they were not Leonardo’s taste. Probably an experiment from Comte. It was sweet that Leonardo kept them, though.
Sweetness aside, and with Comte’s experiment clearly concluded as a failure, she took the trousers and all but marched to Comte’s door. With only a few knocks against the wood, he called for her to enter.
The mischief was clearly written all over her face, as Comte immediately put down his papers and raised an eyebrow.
Her grin was simply delightful as she hid the trousers behind her back, “I have a small favour to ask.”
***
The breakfast hustle and bustle was the same as any other day in the mansion, though with an added buzz as Arthur relayed the events that took place a few days prior.
“Honestly, the things that woman comes up with,” he took a sip of his tea, his ocean irises peaking over the teacup at the man sat opposite to him. He placed it back down into the saucer, leaning back in his chair with an air of pride, “I must say, darling Leonardo, that you really have your work cut out for you.”
“How so?” Leonardo swirled the coffee in his cup with no sense of concern. He knew Arthur was simply playing with him and that he was completely harmless. He very well could have ignored the man, but Arthur needed to be challenged every now and then.
And Leonardo liked to play too.
“You just strike me as someone who doesn’t care for a challenge. As if you can’t be arsed with it.”
“Are you saying she’s challenging?”
Most people would have squirmed under Leonardo’s stare, but Arthur’s eyes only twinkled back at him, “Not challenging, just…troublesome.”
“I thought you liked ‘troublesome’.”
“Oh, I do,” another sip, “very much.”
It seems Comte was the only one to notice the miniscule twitch of Leonardo’s hand and the tightening grip around his cup, as he finally interrupted, “Arthur, I recognise that you’re only having your fun, but I encourage you to be more mindful about how you speak to our newest member of the mansion. She doesn’t know you too well yet, and may not understand your…ways.”
“I think the only reason you find her challenging, Arthur,” Leonardo had his arms crossed on the table, leaning in dangerously, head slightly cocked to one side, “Is because she does such a beautiful job at proving you wrong.”
Arthur smirked, “And how exactly does she do that?”
With gorgeous timing, the door to the dining room creaked open. The tension in the room fizzled out as all heads turned to the figure in the doorway, prompting jaws to drop.
The men were not used to seeing a woman in trousers, but in that split second they had almost forgotten how she’d looked wearing anything else.
Leonardo, with a brain as advanced as his, had already suspected what was happening behind the scenes, but even he was almost at a loss for words. He had seen many, many things in his life. A lot of good, and a lot of bad. A woman in trousers was far from shocking to him.
But she stood so tall, so magnificently powerful and with the cheekiest smirk he had witnessed. The emerald material sat on her figure as though she was carved from marble, as every inch was perfectly tailored to her. The power she held to have silenced a whole room and demanded their eyes’ attention. And yet, of all the eyes in the room, of all the points she was currently proving, her gaze was set on him.
He felt goosebumps tickle his spine.
He spared a quick glance at Comte, who was seemingly taking a sip of his own tea. But he would never be able to hide a smirk behind a teacup from Leonardo.
The sound of her heels hitting the floor echoed in the dining room as she made her way to Leonardo. He stood up to offer his seat, but before he could even utter a ‘good morning’, her lips were on his.
She had always been coy with affection in front of the other members of the mansion, even a simple peck would turn her cheeks rosy. But here she was, hands cupping his face as she melted into him. He didn’t dwell on it for too long, his mind going blank as he brushed his hands against the small of her back and gave her hips a light squeeze. He was moments away from deepening the kiss before she broke it off.
“Are you ready to go?,” she chirped, her smile light and easy as if she hadn’t just turned him into a puddle in her hands.
“I guess I am,” he said, giving her a wink as a silent well played.
“I suppose we’ll see you all later then,” she said to the rest of the room, who’s eyes were still fixed on her.
“Enjoy your Valentine’s Day, you two,” Comte said with a grin, “Behave, Leonardo.”
“I don’t think I’m the one you need to be saying that to, by the looks of it.”
Everyone chuckled, allowing the atmosphere to begin to settle to normal. Arthur, who’s smugness had been replaced by amicable surrender, finally spoke up, “I suppose you win this one, sweetheart.”
She smiled, “I suppose I do.”
Leonardo gave her hand a squeeze, and he felt the tension in her release. He knew that spectacle required some courage from her, and she pulled it off beautifully. He felt at peace knowing she was getting closer and closer to settling in completely, without having to leave any part of herself at the door.
***
Bonus:
Mozart: At least you didn't have to listen to her explain fan fiction.
Arthur: Fan fiction?
Napoleon: It's fictional writing based on existing characters or real people.
Arthur: Oh, so like the Sherlock Holmes collection?
Sebastian: I beg your pardon-
#ikemen gift exchange#my ikemen valentine gift exchange#ikemen vampire#ikevamp leonardo#ikevamp leonardo x reader#ikevamp leonardo x mc
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The Tyrant's new Wife
That little gift is for you @airin-queenz
I confess that I'm madly in love with your Mc! she is GORGEOUS, and the choice of colors is perfect!
I hope you like it even half as much as I liked making it.
Enjoy~ 🩵
special thanks to @ikemenlibrary and @sunnyikemen, for once again organizing a fantastic exchange that allowed me to meet a magnificent artist like Airin! I love your fanarts of Scaramouche and Silvio 🩵 I hope you continue to delight us with your art!
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@alydra Here's your gifts for the Ikepri Gift Exchange! I hope you like it, Sariel defiantly needs a nap lol
Thank you @ikemenlibrary and @sunnyikemen for hosting this event! It's been fun participating ^^
#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikemen series#sariel noir#ikepri sariel#ikemen prince sariel#ikemen prince gift exchange#my art
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A/N: This is my gift for @readerinsertfanfiction 💜 The moment I saw Cyran on your list, I was thrilled. I hope you enjoy!
A huge thank you to @ikemenlibrary for her support and friendship and for being a generous, caring host 💜
Prompt: A servant, someone who knew Cyran from before his time in Rhodolite
Cyran x AU Emma
WC: ~4k
Obsidian: the Past
She runs across the cracked, sunbaked cobblestone streets, her treasure wrapped in a cream-colored tea towel and held protectively against her chest. Her worn leather shoes make a pleasing thunking sound against the stones as she hurries past dusty shop windows and faded porches, carefully dodging people on the street.
“Langsam, Emma!” someone yells as she flies past but she doesn’t listen to their warning. She can’t slow down. She has somewhere to be.
Finally she reaches the edge of town and takes a sharp left, leaving the cobblestones behind for a ribbon of dirt road that winds its way along tired hills covered with sparse sage-green grass and dotted with scraggly yellow dandelions. Another turn onto an even smaller path, a faint thing that meanders through the knee-high growth and then, finally, the faded barn comes into view.
She smiles, pumping her young legs harder, willing them to swallow the distance faster and faster until she reaches the peeling, splintered wooden doors and haphazardly flings one open.
“Cyran? I’m here!!”
The boy, just shy of fourteen, turns away from the wooden beam he has been faux-sparring with, lowering the dull, well-worn practice sword he is so proud of. His hair gleams like fire in the hazy sunlight that shines through the pocked roof.
Emma hurries over, gulping down huge breaths of musty air as she grabs his thin forearm.
“C’mon. I’m dying to see how they taste.”
Cyran laughs, struggling to sheath his sword as she drags him over to the blanket thrown over the hay in a cozy corner of the barn. This is their favorite place to meet, an escape from the outside world they discovered several years ago while exploring. It is here that Emma sometimes reads to him from one of her treasured books. She’s even shared stories she’s written, romantic tales of princesses and dragons, knights and monsters. Cyran is always the hero, the knight who slays the monsters and rescues the damsel in distress. Emma will change her roles in the stories.
Sometimes she needs rescuing.
But sometimes, she is the dragon.
Often they sneak treats to each other, hard biscuits or smoked meat or, if they are really lucky, sweet berries brought across the border from the lush neighboring country of Rhodolite. Cyran’s neighbor is a servant for some of the merchants that make the risky trips over and when he’s lucky, she manages to tuck away a few treasures just for him.
He settles himself down on the frayed checkered blanket and pushes his bright hair away from his forehead, eagerly watching as Emma drops down next to him, laying the tea towel down. Her face is flushed from her run and from the thrill of what she’s managed to bring him.
“Ready?”
He nods, enthusiastically motioning for her to unwrap it already. He has hands that are too big for his young body, growing the way many boys do at this age, in odd fits and spurts.
Emma leans forward, pushing up the sleeve of her too-big dress and carefully pulls back the edges of the tea towel.
The smell hits them first, the warm spice of cinnamon, the tang of nutmeg, the slight bitterness of the cloves, the unmistakable scent of ginger. It wafts up towards them, exotic and tempting. Cyran breathes in deeply and then sighs happily as he looks at her, eyes bright and admiring.
“It smells so good.”
Cyran had carefully been saving up the exotic store of spices, some of them gifts from his neighbors, others decadent purchases made at the market from his meager earnings made mucking stalls and chopping wood. He knew that Emma would be the one who would create something special with them. Young as she was, she was a talented cook and baker, able to make the most fantastic treats out of the simplest ingredients. And now that she had been given such a treasure trove to work with, she had spun pure magic.
The spiced biscuits are dappled dark brown and gold. When she hands him one, it is with a reverence that echos a priest giving communion or a child receiving a shiny new toy at Christmas.
Their gazes meet and she nods.
“Together.”
He returns the nod, staring into the warm depths of her soft brown eyes.
“Together.”
They bite into the cookies at the same time. Emma breaks into a proud smile as Cyran closes his eyes, savoring the medley of flavor and even better, the knowledge that she made them just for him.
“It’s good, isn’t it?" she asks, grinning. She sees the look on his face, the way he is practically melting with enjoyment.
He lifts his shoulder in a casual shrug, feigning indifference.
“I guess……”
“What?!”
He takes another bite, leaning back on one hand. “I mean, they’re ok. But you know, Hilde’s biscuits are also really good–OOF.”
She’s tackled him, throwing herself at him with all the force of a frenzied feline, her nimble fingers scratching at his sides. Cyran breaks into laughter, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and tries to squirm away from her.
“Ok ok Brown Eyes, enough!”
Emma lets him go, sitting back on her heels with a glowing, triumphant smile.
“Never say that about Hilde’s cookies again.”
He pushes himself up, heart pounding furiously in his chest. Only some of it is from laughing. He tears his gaze away from the unsettling beauty of her eyes, traveling up to her hair.
“You’re a mess. You got straw in your hair and your braid is a disaster.”
Emma turns and scoots until she is sitting in front of him. “Since it’s your fault….you fix it.”
Cyran heaves a sigh he doesn’t mean and then settles himself into a comfortable position, reaching forward and with a tenderness and care far beyond most boys his age, begins slowly picking the straw from her messy plait.
Emma’s eyes drift closed as she revels in the attention he’s giving her, the gentle way he untangles her braid and then very slowly begins brushing his fingers through her soft, chestnut-colored hair.
It feels comforting and safe.
It feels thrilling.
It feels like the early evening has come to a standstill and they have all the time in the world.
But their time together is like a rose slowly losing its petals.
A petal falls as he tells her, wide-eyed and shaken, that his neighbor has been killed in her own home, throat opened in the dead of night and left smiling its ghastly red smile until she was discovered hours later. Emma rubs his back, not knowing what else to do. This is not the first death in their village as of late. And it will not be the last.
A petal falls as they lay, side by side, on the blanket in the hay, staring up at the patches of starry sky visible through the holes in the roof. “My parents are scared,” she whispers. He turns his head to stare at her profile and knows it isn’t just her parents who are frightened. “I’ll protect you,” he whispers, voice fierce with youth’s naïve promise. Her gaze remains on the silver stars but she reaches out, taking his hand and squeezes it.
A petal falls as she comes to their favorite spot, face pale as bone, to tell him that her family is leaving. Her father has contacted distant relatives that live far to the north, as far from Rhodolite and the dangers it poses as one can get. Cyran feels like his young heart may break right there in his chest and he will be forced to live the rest of his life with its pieces rattling around inside of him. Though filled with dismay, Emma’s eyes are as beautiful as ever. They shine with tears, rivaling any star they have ever spent time gazing at.
A petal falls as she rushes through the dark, on the night before her family is to leave, her throat burning with feelings she can’t quite name, waves too strong to try and understand for fear they will sweep her away. She bursts through the barn doors and finds him already there, his hair dark as garnet, damp with sweat. He has spent the entire day doing heavy labor, removing heavy wooden beams, hauling ancient and broken equipment, sweeping the dusty, straw-strewn floor. Several lanterns placed around the interior bathe the space in warm, yellow light. The barn is as clean and inviting as he can make it. He wanted to give her one more memory, something beautiful, that she can take with her on her journey away from here. Away from him.
Emma is frozen in place, soaking in all he has done, before finally stopping on the young man at the center of it. He’s breathing hard, his chest rising and falling unevenly. Already his shoulders carry the hint of what manhood will bring him: strength and breadth. Arms that with training will turn hard and sculpted, legs that will lengthen until he is taller than most. He is the faint beginning of what he will become. Emma wonders wildly if she will ever get the chance to see the finished masterpiece.
“Emma,” he says, his voice raw and rough, deeper than she has ever heard it.
She sets down the bundle she is holding, the one she carried so close on the way here, leaving it on top of a weathered wooden barrel.
“Cyran,” she answers, her muscles tense, like a fawn when it hears a crunching in the underbrush.
He starts forward, one hesitant step and that is enough. She flies towards him, throwing her thin arms around his neck and buries her face in his worn linen shirt, clutching him to her. There is power in her small frame, something fierce and bright, a hurricane in crystal. Cyran holds her close, his eyes closing as he breathes in her familiar scent. He’s been teased his whole life because of his last name, but she is the one who reminds him of a rose, who always smells so sweet.
The anticipation of loss that has them clinging to each other slowly ebbs and something else, something that has been burning low and quiet in every laugh, every touch, every glance begins to emerge. She is suddenly aware of the press of her chest against his, of how much taller he is, the earthy smell of his skin. She leans back to look at him and sees the same awareness mirrored in his dark eyes.
Outside a rooster crows, loud and discordant.
Cyran turns his head toward the sound and Emma, sparked by the frantic knowledge that she must leave, grabs his chin, pulling him back to her and rises onto her toes, pressing her lips to his.
It is a sunbeam bursting through gray clouds. A spark breathing life into a pile of dried leaves. It is hope and promise and wonder.
And heartbreak.
With a stifled cry, she steps away, turns and flees the barn, not wanting to see the look on his face as she leaves, not wanting that to be her last memory of him.
Cyran watches with a thundering heart as the door swings shut. Flooded with helplessness and misery, he notices the bundle she left behind. Tenderly he lifts it, undoing the sky-colored ribbon. It’s her favorite handkerchief, white with pale blue forget-me-nots painstakingly embroidered along the edges, and nestled inside are several of her spiced biscuits. His favorites.
Rhodolite: The Present
Rhodolite is so much MORE than she expected. The streets are wider and cleaner and lined with greenery, more trees and flowering bushes and grass than in the entire garden of the palace in Obsidian. There are more people than she expected too, many standing under awnings and lampposts, peeking through windows and around doorways, watchful eyes in beautiful faces following the royal procession as it makes its way towards the palace.
When she had been told by the Head Chef that they would be accompanying Prince Gilbert and his entourage to Rhodolite, Emma had felt a familiar ringing through the cockles of her heart. Rhodolite is where Cyran was rumored to have ended up. Whispers from the south had traveled her way, over the many years since they parted. He had joined the army when he was of age. He had left Obsidian for the verdure of Rhodolite. He was employed by one of the Princes there. Crumbs of information she had managed to gather, hoarding them tightly like precious drops of mana.
He may not even be here, she reminds herself as her tired gray mare plods along down the street. She and the other servants are at the end of the procession and most of the people have turned away, not interested in anything but the dangerous Prince Gilbert with his sharp smile and blood-red gaze.
Still, Emma finds herself scanning the crowds as they pass, looking for any head of red hair. She spots a few but they are never him.
As the overwhelming elegant palace suddenly rises towards the heavens before her, she draws in a sharp breath.
We’re here…….
…….Is he?
The palace looms closer, a breathtaking monument of pale beauty.
And if so….how in the wide world will she ever find him?
Cyran runs a hand through his thick mass of russet hair as his long strides make quick work of the pathway towards the training hall. It’s late evening and the young, freshly-minted knights are at the end of their training and he needs to make sure everything went well without him there. He knows Lucian is more than capable of leading them through their drills but Cyran has a responsibility to make sure. They are all under his charge.
Entering the hall, he sees several of the knights laughing in a corner. Some are sitting and catching their breath, others are pushing the heavy sandbags they sometimes train with back into their storage room. What he sees reassures him. They look tired and sore, yet satisfied, faces bright with the feeling of accomplishment a tough training session will leave behind.
He’s about to go look for Lucian, expecting a full report when he notices several of the knights standing by the wooden table at the far end of the training circle, the one usually covered with straps for shields and rope and other odds and ends. They’re smiling, far too widely to be discussing anything so mundane as weaponry. Several are chewing. He approaches the table, greeted by his men with smiles and respectful nods. Immediately he notices the tin: it’s round and black, covered with decorative golden swirls.
“What’s this?” He glances towards the first knight at his left, a tall lad with sandy blond hair.
“They were brought here by an Obsidian servant. She said they were a present for us.”
Cyran frowns, a skeptical look on his face as he reaches inside the tin for one of the golden brown cookies.
“And you didn’t think to–” He was going to ask if they thought accepting gifts from strangers was a good idea when the scent hits him, cutting through the sweat and musk of tired men.
The warm spice of cinnamon, the tang of nutmeg, the slight bitterness of cloves, the unmistakable scent of ginger.
He goes still, the breath knocked from his lungs.
Could it be…..
Something in his face hushes the men around him. They watch, curious as Cyran lifts the cookie and takes a bite.
The man who sees everything, ever watchful, closes his eyes as he chews and the knights are transfixed by the absolute stillness that has overtaken their leader.
And then those eyes open and something in them has begun to burn, bright and alive.
The other half of the cookie falls to the dusty ground as he turns on his heel and, practically jogging, exits the training area, leaving behind the half-eaten biscuit and a slew of surprised faces.
The rose gardens are somehow even more beautiful in the twilight of evening. The red petals seem to have darkened, shedding their bright rose-red for a sultry scarlet. Shadows emerge from the trimmed hedges, stretching across the winding stone pathways, giving a visitor like Emma glimpses of hidden benches and secret dirt paths leading into clandestine corners of the gardens.
She has taken several of these more narrow, less-trodden paths, not at all afraid of getting lost. Her heart is a bird, flitting between dark branches, full of a nervous, tightly-wound energy she can’t quite explain.
As the sky darkens to a deep navy blue and the first stars open their eyes, Emma pauses in front of a gray stone fountain. Two swans, nuzzling their beaks together, bodies curved towards one another as a blossoming flower rises above them, water spraying outward in celebration. She tilts her head, the romantic in her sighing at the way the two swans perfectly mirror one another, two halves of a whole, two souls in perfect harmony. So enchanted is she by the fountain that she doesn’t hear the footfall on the path, doesn’t notice the man who has stopped several meters away from where she is standing, the sight of her freezing him in his tracks.
“Emma.”
She jumps at the deep voice, her eyes wide and dark as she turns towards the sound. The owner of said voice is standing, half in shadow, at the place where the small path to the fountain begins, beneath a shadowy arch of crimson roses. She is so startled, she doesn’t even register that he has said her name.
“Oh….s'il te plaît, excuse-moi,” she says quickly, doing her best to remember the phrases of the common language spoken in Rhodolite. “J'espère que ça va…” She trails off, trying to remember how to say she hopes she is allowed to be here but the man takes another step closer, leaving the blanket of shadows and stepping into the fading light.
Even the dusky hue of evening cannot hide the red of his hair.
A gasp as soft as the flutter of a bird’s wing escapes her. The young boy she knew juxtaposed against this tall, broad man before her sends her heart into a tailspin. Her hand flies to her mouth as she takes him in. She sees the same bright light of recognition and admiration and overwhelming emotion plain as day on his beautiful face.
“Cyran?” The word is a whisper, a breathless repetition of the name she has kept in her prayers for decades.
His eyes never leave her, almost as if he has the power to hold her there with his gaze, to keep her from vanishing into the realm of his dreams where she has lived for so long. Slowly, he reaches up and loosens the laces at the top of his tunic. His hand slides inside and when it emerges, he is holding a small square of cloth. As he slowly opens it, her heart falters.
It’s white, with pale blue forget-me-nots embroidered around the edges.
He holds it out to her, his chest rising and falling with every deep breath he takes. That handkerchief has lived next to his heart, in an inner pocket, one he has sewn into every shirt he has ever owned since the day he watched her leave.
“I think…..this belongs to you, Brown Eyes.”
She chokes back a sob, unable to contain the thunderstorm of emotion coursing through her and runs to him, falling into his arms as naturally as a willow bends to the wind, tears falling freely down her cheeks. Cyran wraps his arms around her, sheltering her, holding her the way he has imagined a thousand times. His throat burns with all the words he has ached to say, all those sleepless nights spent remembering the lilt of her smile, the music of her laughter, the bittersweet taste of her kiss.
Emma squeezes her eyes closed, breathing in the scent of him, at once so familiar and yet so strange. Her arms wind around his waist as she presses herself against him, drinking in the sensation of his body on hers.
This is Cyran….her Cyran…..her….
A thought pierces her heart as she suddenly steps away from him, eyes wide, still so beautiful as they glimmer with the remnants of her tears.
“Oh…I…I didn’t mean…..you could be married. I shouldn’t have-”
His laughter is coarse, rough with emotion, a roll of rushing water as it careens over the lip of a cliff.
“As if I could ever love anyone else.”
Love…..
As if summoned by the very word, the moon itself parts the soft gray clouds, flooding the small section of the garden with silvery light. The tinkling of the fountain fills the momentary silence.
Cyran’s cheeks suddenly flush, a hot mixture of embarrassment and panic overriding the elation of the previous moment.
“I…..I don’t mean to presume of course that you feel the same. It has been a long time and…..” He trails off, wincing. Fluster is such an uncharacteristic state of being for Cyran. “Ah, shit. I’m sorry. I–”
His words are cut off as Emma launches herself back into his arms, hugging him fiercely.
“Please, don’t apologize.” She tilts her head up to look at him, still in awe of how she sees the young man he was and the handsome man he has become in his beautiful eyes, in his exquisite face. “It has always been you.”
Cyran drags air into his lungs, hardly able to believe he isn’t dreaming. His rough fingers capture her chin, his thumb running over the sensitive skin just under her lower lip.
Slowly, he leans down as she stretches upwards, eager and nearly trembling with emotion.
He kisses her, his hand still cupping her face. Gently his mouth moves over hers as he tells her a wordless story of longing, of a bruised heart that learned to somehow keep beating.
He kisses her, a strong arm pulling her closer, his lips and tongue weaving the tale of a young soldier who never forgot the girl with the tender heart and radiant spirit. The soldier who dreamed of her face during his darkest nights and longed for her laughter on days of sunshine.
She meets him, kiss for kiss, stroke for stroke, sliding her palms along his broad shoulders, clutching him as she answers his tale, confessing without words how he has never left her heart. How his smile was her light in times of worry and despair. How seeing him again has been her northern star from the moment of parting.
Only the moon knows how long they stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms, lost in each other’s yearning.
When they finally part, Cyran rests his forehead against hers, still keeping her tightly in his embrace. He may never let go again.
“You’re….in the employ of Prince Gilbert. I am here.” He frowns ever so slightly as he brushes several loose strands of hair away from Emma’s charmingly flushed cheek. “This could get complicated.”
Their gazes meet and she nods.
“Yes…..but we’ll figure it out.”
And suddenly he is carried back in time to an evening when her eyes shone just as brightly, just as excitedly, a young girl with something to give a young boy, a homemade cookie, an offering of love.
“Together.”
Her voice echoes across the years, that word wrapping itself around his battered heart, a balm, a blessing.
He returns the nod, staring into the warm depths of her soft brown eyes, tenderly stroking the silk of her hair, and answers her now as he did back then.
“Together.”
Tagging: @xbalayage @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @olivermorningstar @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @ikesimpleton @namine-somebodies-nobody @cellophanediamond @whatever-fanfics @justpeachyteastea @chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @mastering-procrastinating @portrait-ninja @queen-dahlia @themysticalbeing @nightghoul381 @whitelittlebunny @chi-the-idiot @bubblexly @wordycheeseblob
#ikemen series#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikepri cyran#cyran rose#ikemen cyran#ikepri cyril#cyril rose#ikemen cyril#my ikemen valentine gift exchange#ikemen fanfiction#ikemen fanfic#otome fanfic#violettwrites
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Give me the smile in your heart
💐Vlad and Mitsuki💐
This is my first time joining in gift exchanging event My Ikemen Valentine Gift Exchange and this is my gift for @tacogawa.
It's hard to choose between Leon, Shingen, Vlad and Mitsuhide, they're so enjoyable to draw so I use a roulette and the roulette chooses Vlad hehe~🤭 I hope you like my gift. 🥺💖
And I thank @ikemenlibrary for hosting this event, helping me choosing outfit from your avatar closet and colors. ☺️✨✨✨
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A Sweet Taste
Pairing: Silvio/MC (Emma)
Word Count: ~2.5k
Warnings: Swearing, bickering, a brief mention of seasickness.
Summary: During Silvio and Emma's first voyage together, Silvio decides to make her a surprise for Valentine's. However, nothing can stop her curiosity.
Notes: Written for @goustmilk for the My Ikémen Valentine Gift Exchange, hosted by @ikemenlibrary. This was my first time writing for Silvio, and I really hope you like it, Dani!!
Emma was getting used to the sway of the waves and the creaking sounds of the ship. They didn’t disturb her anymore while sleeping, especially when Silvio made a habit of enveloping her tightly in his arms every night. They were heading to another continent where her lover had business to attend to, and he had decided to take her with him for a little adventure of their own. She couldn’t be happier; their days were always filled with new lessons as they sailed together on the open sea under a bright blue sky, the sun unusually warm for February. And their nights were always filled with love, and now also with rest, since she could fall into a deep sleep in his arms until morning came, finding herself still within his grip as she woke up.
Emma let out a groggy sigh that morning, anticipating the warmth of his presence, ready to tease him about being as needy as a puppy for cuddling her all night long. However, to her surprise, there were no arms around her this time.
Emma turned quickly in bed, patting his side of their bed, but the sheets were cold, and there was no sign of Silvio in their quarters. Emma sat up straight, frowning; it wasn’t like him to let her sleep in without even letting her know he was leaving. He knew she would be worried, and if it weren’t for the gentle swing of the ship and the peaceful sounds outside — the closest semblance of silence within the ever-noisy wooden vessel at sea — she would be downright alarmed. Still, she wondered what could have been so urgent that made him leave without his typical, brazen, yet sweet “Oi! Sleepyhead! I have business to take care of, but you stay and sleep some more”.
Emma dressed quickly before emerging from the captain’s quarters. The door creaked softly as she stepped onto the deck, her eyes squinting against the sunlight. Her gaze swept across the deck, searching for her lover, but she saw no trace of his pale-blue hair being tousled by the sea breeze, a perfect match to the sea waves. There was no jewelry shining under the sun. No haughty voice giving off commands to the crew, no jangling sounds. She bit her lip, growing more anxious to find him. Moving towards the nearby navigator’s area, she slowly pushed open the door and scanned the room for Silvio. As she did, her heart clenched. There, between maps, charts, compasses, and astrolabes, she could only find Carlo behind the desk, absorbed in his work.
“Good morning, Carlo…” she announced her presence with a gentle knock on the door, which she was still holding.
He seemed startled by her voice and looked at her apologetically.
“Good morning! Ah… I’m sorry I hadn’t noticed you there, I was too caught up with calculations, and…”
“That’s okay, really,” Emma waved her hands placatingly. There was no need for apologies or explanations — especially when she still couldn’t understand his work entirely — and she wished he could focus on her words instead. “I was just wondering if you know where Silvio is.”
“I-I-I… he…” Carlo stuttered, looking around as if searching for something — maybe his words. “Actually, he asked me to tell you to wait for him here. He’s… taking care of something important below deck…”
Emma couldn’t help but furrow her eyebrows suspiciously. Carlo was hiding a secret, that much was obvious. Silvio was up to something, and he was covering up for him. But what could he possibly be conspiring in a ship?
“I see.” She nodded in agreement, but in her mind, she was weighing two possibilities: either let it go and wait for Silvio as he intended, or... “Below deck, you say?”
“Lady Emma, you don’t know the passageways well; you’ll get lost if you go after him,” Carlo moved from his desk to dissuade her from her intentions. “I can show you how... how to use the astrolabe if you please. Or we can discuss any matter you would like.”
It was too late, however.
“I’m sorry, Carlo,” it was her turn to smile apologetically, although Emma didn’t truly regret her decision. She set herself on the move, knowing full well Carlo was exasperatedly following her steps. “If I am to become familiar with this ship, I must also learn the ways my lover has of being secretive with me here. Or did he honestly expect me to sit still and wait for him?”
Granted, he would whine about it, but Silvio knew her. And he wouldn’t love her so much had she been obedient to his whims.
.
The recipe had been carefully written down on paper by Emma’s favorite confectioner. Silvio had made sure to pay him a visit the last time he went to Rhodolite. How Silvio managed to keep that recipe a secret, as well as his trips to the palace’s kitchen to practice under the guise of attending business meetings, remained a mystery, and he was proud of his deeds so far. Spending their very first Valentine’s Day together on the ship would be necessary, but he was determined to make that day special for Emma. Since cakes would spoil during the trip and chocolate boxes would melt in the storage room, the best option was to learn how to bake and do it himself in the galley.
She used to cook and bake for him all the time, and he felt good doing the same for her — although he would never say it out loud. But was Silvio still feeling confident now that he was covered in flour and ingloriously trying to beat the batter while double-checking the recipe and attempting to ensure the oven was at the correct temperature all at the same time? His grumbled profanities revealed a man far less confident than he was while conducting his tests in the palace. But a full kitchen with a steady floor was different from a galley swinging along the sea waves; and having a considerable amount of time was different from trying to rush things out to surprise Emma before she woke up.
Asking Carlo to stall her in case she did — because she definitely would look for him first thing — and trusting he could actually do it were two different things. For all that was worth, Emma was stubbornly obstinate and couldn't behave for shit. The thought of her irritating antics made Silvio blush. Unbeknownst to him, his eyebrows furrowed, and his lips formed a little pout. He beat the batter harder, causing it to spill all over the place.
“Cazzo!” Silvio couldn’t help but shout angrily, leaving the whisk in the bowl as he made an indignant hand gesture.
He sighed heavily, looking down at the chocolate batter in the bowl, its sweet scent a harsh contrast to the salty sea air. Silvio’s haughty expression softened little by little as he remembered why he was doing this, and soon he took the whisk again and resumed beating the mixture. “The more you beat it, the fluffier it’ll get after baking!”, the confectioner had said. “And Miss Emma loves fluffy cakes,” he added.
Fluffy, sweet, covered in sugar that melted in your mouth. The thought of Emma’s delight warmed his heart and brought a smile to his lips, the silly rush of emotions making his cheeks warm with a blush again.
Good thing no one was there to see it.
.
Emma navigated through the narrow passageways of the ship, with Carlo trailing closely behind. While she was aware of what lay below the deck — the crew’s cabins, the galley, the storage rooms — most of it remained a mystery to her. Despite her limited familiarity, there was one place she felt more comfortable with than others. Although it didn’t make any sense for Silvio to be there, her feet naturally guided her right to the galley.
“Lady Emma,” Carlo persisted, trying to reason with her. “If Prince Silvio doesn’t want to be found, don’t you think it's better to wait for him on deck? I'm sure he has a good reason…”
“Carlo, let’s make a deal,” she said, slowing down and turning to him. Her voice was hushed, mindful not to reveal their presence in case Silvio was nearby. “Just show me where he is. All I want is to know what he’s up to. We can return to the deck before he even notices us.”
Suddenly, the faint scent of salt and dried fish in the air was overtaken by a sweet aroma. Emma inhaled deeply, confused by the captivating scent she wasn’t expecting to encounter there. Was it... cake? Could it be that Silvio was baking her a cake? She threw an inquiring glance at Carlo, as if she had voiced her doubts, and he looked back at her with a conflicted expression.
“Porca miseria!” Silvio’s frustrated curses echoed from somewhere nearby, dismissing the need for Carlo’s guidance. Emma’s heart quickened with anticipation as she followed the source of the sound and that amazing scent, her senses guiding her through the labyrinth of corridors of the ship.
With Carlo never leaving her side, she rounded a corner and saw Silvio surrounded by flour-dusted surfaces and the warm glow of the galley’s oven. His brow furrowed in concentration, his hands a flurry of activity as he wrestled with the batter before him. She halted and took a step back, almost colliding with Carlo in the process. But she had promised him she wouldn’t let Silvio know they were there. The image of her lover working with such dedication made her smile uncontrollably, though, and she wished she could let out a giggle.
“Can we head back now?” Carlo whispered urgently.
Emma hummed softly while considering, peeking from behind the corner to watch Silvio struggling to put the batter in the baking pan while the ship swayed more forcefully. “Why is he baking a cake, though?” she murmured to herself.
“Don’t you know?” Carlo whispered a little louder in surprise. “Oh, right, sorry. You must’ve lost track of time here. It’s Valentine’s Day today, Lady Emma.”
“Is it?” Her whisper was even louder, and she immediately covered her mouth, hoping Silvio hadn’t heard her. “You should’ve let me know; I wanted to do something for him, too.”
She had believed they would have already reached land by the 14th, but apparently, she had miscalculated the duration of the trip when Silvio told her about it. She had been so excited and touched by the sight of Silvio baking her a cake, but now she was starting to feel guilty for not doing something special for him too.
“He had mentioned he wanted to do something for you this time, since you’re always doing so much for him. Not in those exact words, of course, but I know him well enough to understand.”
Emma knew exactly what Carlo was talking about, and it only made her heart race faster for her lover. “Carlo, I’m sorry, but I have to go there.”
“You told me you wouldn’t…”
“I know, but I have to. Besides, he seems like he needs help, and-”
Emma turned to peek at Silvio again to check how he was doing, but what she saw was the glistening gold of the necklaces on his chest. Really close. She raised her eyes sheepishly and met his annoyed stare.
“Who the hell told ya I need help?” Silvio stood with his hands on his hips, chocolate smudges staining the fancy fabric of his clothes, telling another story. “And you? Thought I told ya to keep her away from here. How come you both ended up like damned rats nosing around and chattering in my galley?”
“You left me without saying a word!” Emma retorted boldly, matching Silvio's assertiveness and cutting off Carlo before he could start apologizing. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You couldn’t possibly have expected me to sit still! Besides... you’re obviously in need of help,” her eyes roamed from his messy clothes to the messy galley.
“You’re impossible, woman!”
They pouted at each other, forming a pair of stubborn, hot-blooded fools. Their cheeks flushed even more by the second as they engaged in a stare-down. The moment Emma’s gaze wavered and she looked away from Silvio’s sea-blue eyes, he felt a pang in his heart. With an unintelligible mutter, he shook his head.
“Fine! Damn it! It’s Valentine’s Day, so stop spouting nonsense and come help me already!”
.
Emma was getting used to the sway of the waves and the creaking sounds of the ship. Silvio noticed it in the way she danced around the galley completely undisturbed, mixing the batter with light movements, taking care of the oven, and ensuring the cake pan was ready before pouring the batter into it. She moved as naturally as she would in the palace's kitchen, quite the evolution for someone who had experienced seasickness like Valerio usually did during her first days at sea.
She really was amazing.
As it turns out, his first attempt didn't go well. The batter got stuck in the pan, and the cake didn't rise, so she was working her magic to ensure that they would have something for the day. And for as long as he wished to do that alone, helping her out while she baked felt like they were already celebrating Valentine's Day together. Good thing Emma decided to stick her cute little nose in his business, and that he decided to let her in. Carlo politely left them alone — he definitely didn't want to be involved in their mess in the first place. And now, everything felt in the right place.
Except for her lips, when, after they placed the pan in the oven, she suddenly leaned in not only for a simple kiss but also for a tiny lick on his cheek. The surprising sensation made Silvio shiver and blush uncontrollably, flinching away from her touch. Emma giggled shamelessly at her bold actions.
“There was still some batter on your cheek, and I wanted to taste it,” she explained nonchalantly. “Silvio, you taste so sweet right now, you know that?”
“Sh-shut up!!” He spat, frowning at her, but her annoying behavior, and the way she glowed brighter and warmer than the oven in front of them, were simply too endearing to him. The fact was that he loved her, and she was the only person in the world who could evoke such feelings in him.
As suddenly as she kissed him, Silvio wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed their bodies together. His kiss was on her lips, stronger, with a hunger no cake could satisfy. When he rendered her breathless, Silvio broke the kiss and smirked at her.
“Now, you,” he murmured, his fingers gently brushing back a lock of her hair behind her ear, tracing a delicate path through the strands. Her beautiful eyes shined in anticipation, and he smiled honestly. It was Valentine's Day, and there would be no real celebration if he wasn't true to her. “You taste sweet all the time…”
Taglist: @bicayaya @queengiuliettafirstlady @olivermorningstar
#my ikemen valentine gift exchange#ikemen prince#silvio ricci#silvio/mc#silvio/emma#ikepri#fanfic#tw swearing
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how to take care of a sick mc
for the my ikemen valentine gift exchange i did this drawing for @pillowpillowillo 💚
altale, you suggested “taking care of each other” for a fic, but i found it cute and tried adapting it in an artwork. my idea was that MC got sick, so both keiths are taking care of her (in their own way, hahah). in the end, they ended up falling asleep together! i hope you’ll like it 💞
thank you @ikemenlibrary for hosting this adorable exchange 💗 i had a great time joining it!!
#my ikemen valentine gift exchange#ikemen fanart#ikemen#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikepri fanart#ikepri keith#keith howell#ikepri keith fanart#🖍️: bicaya draws
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Silent Letters to My Beloved
Pairing ~ Rio Ortiz x GN Reader
Word Count ~ 1.5k
Author's Note ~ This fic is my gift for the lovely @eli-chika in @ikemenlibrary's "My Ikemen Valentine" Gift Exchange! I truly loved being able to write this fic for you. It's been awhile since I've written for Ikemen, and even longer since I've written for Rio, but I hope I did him justice for you and I hope you enjoy! <3
(Ps. I also totally made up the dates because I have zero clue when ikepri is meant to take place lol)
Darling Love, 11-08-32
My sweetest dear one,
My heart,
When you rescued me, my world stood still. Who I was before the moment your hands touched mine was of no consequence anymore. I was yours, heart, body, and soul. Through the years, you taught me how to open up again; how to learn and take in the beauty of the world again. I learned how to love from you. The man who feared losing everything came to realize that he had never even known of "everything" until he knew you.
I don't know why I'm confessing here, in this letter you will never read. I must seem quite foolish to you. Here you are, a bright and shining light, surrounded by those who shine almost as brightly as you do. The princes of Rhodolite are noble and kind - well, most of them - and you even outshine them at the center of it all. I can't even hope to hold a candle's worth of light to the beauty you radiate. Perhaps my purpose in this life is to stand behind you, just out of sight, and make sure you never suffer a single inconvenience. Honestly, it doesn't sound like too terrible of a fate: getting to stand close to you wherever you are, basking in the loveliness that is you.
Sometimes I just wish…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My sweet, 11-17-32
I see the way they admire you, the curiosity and interest in their eyes. It shouldn't bother me. I should be able to keep myself contained as your butler and your… friend. But the way you smile back at them is enough to cast a shadow on even my brightest of days, and will tie my heart in uncomfortable, messy knots without any effort. I am not a man worthy of your affection, I know this. However, I can’t seem to force these feelings away. I saw Prince Leon taking your hand today, and leading you to the training grounds. He looked so happy to have your hand in his; I can’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t find otherworldly joy in it, so at least he responded appropriately. The pleased blush that spread across your face when his hand closed around yours pained me with the heartbreaking guilt of a man who loves you, but also desperately wants you to be happy - whether he is the one to make you so or not.
This jealousy is proof I can never deserve you. You are better off with a man like Prince Leon at your side. I will stand behind you to make sure you stay smiling throughout your journey. I swear it, to you and to myself, I will only cry where you cannot see it. You will never know my heartbreak. You deserve better than that.
~ Rio
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My friend, 12-10-32
You look so beautiful in the red outfit Prince Leon gifted you. It falls so beautifully around your frame and compliments you well. You will look so regal by his side that no one will question your place there! I know you worry; I see it in your eyes and the way a near-permanent crease sits between your lovely eyes, but you don’t need to. Just carry yourself the way you do in town, and in the bookstore. You’re so confident and sure of yourself there; at home. I miss when you seemed at home, when you were comfortable… when we were-
“Rio!”
The call from the door, along with hurried knocks had him jumping from his seat like he’d been stung and running to open it for them. “MC!” he yelped, his journal so visible and open on the table behind him filling him with so much momentary panic that he didn’t realize they were crying at first. But at the first sniffle, his attention snapped to their face where tears were falling in crystal tandem onto their lovely clothes. “MC, what’s wrong? Come in, sit down, I’ll get you a cloth! Was it Prince Leon? I don’t care if he’s a prince of Rhodolite or not, I’ll have his head if he hurt you-!”
“Rio!” they cried louder and he silenced, looking helplessly at them. They sniffled again. His heart clenched at the sound - the worst sound in the world, he thought, the sound of their pain. “I embarrassed myself.” sniff “The whole ballroom turned to judge me. They’re still talking about me, I’m certain.” sniff “I can’t show my face in that room again!”
“No matter what happened, if they judged you, they’re the ones who should be ashamed!” Rio flamed, his hands coming up to frame their shaking shoulders. “Where is prince Leon? Did he not follow you?” he asked, despite himself.
“I don’t want prince Leon.” they huffed. “He’s nice, and sweet, but-” sniff “He isn’t you, and I want you.” Rio’s heart stuttered into a wild rhythm at the possible implication of their words, but he shoved his hope to the pit of his stomach where it belonged; this wasn’t about him, it was about them. And he would be anything they needed him to be. So he put on his best face and nodded, pulling them into his embrace where they easily fell and curled around him. ‘It feels like coming home.’ he thought as he backed them both up enough to gently shut the door behind them and wrap his arm back around them, his hand finding their soft locks and stroking them tenderly. They wetted the shoulder of his undershirt with their tears, but he didn’t care. What was a shirt in comparison to them? The shirt was made better by having touched them, if anything.
“Want to sit down?” he whispered into their hair and they nodded after several seconds more of sniffling, so he maneuvered them towards the short couch next to the fireplace in his room and made to ease them down into the seat gently, but they tugged on his arm, pulling him down with them. He let out a gasp of surprise as they settled sideways on to the couch and pulled him over top of them.
“Please, Rio. Just- just hold me.” they whispered into his neck as he lowered himself gingerly down on top of them, hovering just above them to keep from possibly hurting them. However, they wrapped their arms firmly around his back and drew him close, rendering his efforts futile as he was forced to relax against them. He felt them sigh and relax into him, their nails beginning to scratch up and down his back, sending electric shivers through his entire body.
“Are you sure I’m not going to hurt you?! I’d never forgive myself if-”
“Rio, it’s fine.” they murmured, stopping him short. Their voice was subdued now, a comfortable haze enveloping them in warmth, and Rio let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, letting himself nuzzle into their neck. “I love having you close.” they whispered softly. “You feel like home.”
His breath caught again, this time full of the words he was too much of a coward to say, so he propped up on his elbow instead to look down at them, hoping the love in his eyes was enough to get the message across. Something must have reached them, thankfully, because they met his eyes with the same ardor echoed back to him and he swore his heart stopped beating. “You do too.” he finally croaked out, shocked that any words could form on his lips at all. They brought their hand up to his cheek, letting their fingers brush against his soft skin, the tiny blond hairs there tickling their fingertips as they followed the path of his cheekbone back to his ear and then to his fine blond locks. Their eyes followed the path of their fingers until they were out of sight, lost in his hair, then traveled back to lock with his.
“Rio,” they muttered breathlessly.
“Y-yes?” he said, hardly trusting his own voice to work the way it should.
“Kiss me.”
.
.
.
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My Dearest Fiance, 5-25-33
You grow more exquisite as each day passes, and I can’t believe I get to be the man to stand by your side. My proposal was so swift after we became lovers, I worried you wouldn’t say yes. But I couldn’t bear to wait any longer, and my heart is far too full knowing you feel the same! I know you enjoyed your time at the palace, but I’m so glad we’re back at the bookstore, home. Although, I know for certain that wherever you go would be home enough for me. If one day you decide to travel across the sea, I’ll be there beside you, ready to take on the world as your husband. With you, my love, I can take on anything. Thank you for loving me, I will never believe I deserve it, no matter the number of times you tell me. And I cannot wait to fill this journal with our adventures together. No more heartbreak, only love. Forever love.
~ Your loving fiance, Rio
#ikemen prince#ikepri#rio ortiz#ikepri rio#ikemen prince rio#ikepri rio ortiz#ikemen prince rio ortiz#rio ortiz x reader#rio ortiz x gn reader#gn reader ikepri#ikepri gn reader#ikemen series#my ikemen valentine gift exchange
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Flower Language
➢ pairing: Leonardo x MC [Ikemen Vampire]
➢ word count: 1,413
⚠️ content warnings: None!
This is my entry for @ikemenlibrary's Ikemen Valentine Gift Exchange, dedicated to @sunnyikemen! I have never written for Leo before, but I had a lot of fun with his character, and I hope that I did well enough to make for an enjoyable read at least! Happy belated Valentine's Day, Sunny, and here is some Leo fluff for you :)
Being around the most famous polymath in history, there was always a new surprise in store.
Leonardo da Vinci seemed to know everything about everything. Perhaps it was because of his endless knowledge, gathered over the course of centuries, or perhaps it was because of the air of ease that surrounded him—but it did not escape his notice how the newest resident of the manor seemed to gravitate toward him upon her unexpected arrival.
He never denied her his company. At first, because he knew she was frightened and disoriented.
For a girl who had found herself transported into another time period in the blink of an eye, there was only uncertainty around every corner. Yet Leonardo's breezy personality and apparent ability to handle anything with minimal effort brought her security, as well as distraction. He knew this, and so he made it a note to help her throughout her time in the manor, keeping her mind off her troubles.
You're restless and wish to get out of the manor, cara mia? Well, then, let's take a day outside Paris. The French countryside is an equally worthy sight for a time traveler, and it'd be a shame not to have you visit. Hm? Where to? Well, it's no fun if I tell you all the details, now, is it?
How to paint, you ask? Why, you wish to prove a point to Theo? Ha! Don't pay him too much mind, 'knabbeltje' is merely a term of endearment, I'm sure. But if you really wish to learn, then I am glad to be of service, morso mio. ...Hm, no, of course that's not the same as what Theo says. Would you accuse me of such a thing?
So, you want to hear about Florence back in those days, then. I hope this isn't because of any gossip you heard from the noble Comte. ...Alright, alright. Come, sit. I suppose I ought to make an effort to salvage my good name, at least.
Days turned into weeks of trying to make himself available to her, helping her calm down and settle into her new life at the mansion. He had sworn to himself that was all it was. But as wary as he knew to be of the passage of time, somehow he found it creeping up on him again. Even after she was already well settled, he continually found himself at her side, as if naturally drawn there.
He didn't realize until too late, one afternoon when they were sitting out in the mansion's gardens together.
A certain flower had caught her eye—a yellow daisy—and Leonardo had commented, absentmindedly, "Ah, yes. Joy and friendship."
It was an innocent remark, accompanied by a little chuckle. It made sense to him that this should be the flower that struck her. He had come to associate her with such qualities, after all, because they were what she brought to him. Every little inconsequential story he shared with her, every time he allowed her to watch him paint and work, every time he whisked her out on some spontaneous excursion, it was often met with that look of intrigue, that little excited glimmer in her eyes.
Yet he was somewhat surprised when his passive comment earned him that same look.
Humming to herself, her eyes scanned over the other flowers in the garden and came to rest on another. “And that one?” She nodded her head towards the flower in question.
“Which, the marigold?”
She glanced back at him expectantly and nodded once more, seeming quite eager to hear his explanation. Leonardo, now acutely aware that he was being tested, smiled a little.
“Marigolds represent grief. Or the passage from one life to the next.”
“Really? But they seem so much brighter, warmer…”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you doubting me, cara mia?”
And for that remark, he found himself rewarded with soft laughter. Despite himself, and despite everything he had assured himself about maintaining his distance, he could not help but feel his heart squeeze. Spending an idyllic afternoon wandering around the mansion’s garden, chatting among the flowers as they bloomed with the new season, it all felt so warm.
“No, no…” She shook her head, still smiling. “It’s just unbelievable, that’s all…”
“So you are doubting me.” Leonardo tsked in faux disapproval, savoring the little back-and-forth of the moment. “Alright, now it’s a challenge, then. Ask me about another.”
Looking around again, she settled on a vibrant purple bud and pointed to it.
“Ah, crocuses stand for young love,” he answered knowingly. “There is an old Greek legend that Crocus was a mortal lover of Hermes, and the god was so devastated when he died that he had him transformed into a flower. The red on the inside, there, is supposed to represent his blood.”
She seemed quite taken by the story as he explained. Ah, he would never tire of seeing that look on her face, when she was so absorbed in what he was saying, when he knew she was hanging on every word. But arguably, it was even better to watch her fluster when he concluded his tale with a triumphant smirk.
“Alright, don’t get too arrogant, now.” She pointed to another flower. “What about that one?”
“Sweetpea, gratitude.”
“And the lily?”
“Purity.”
“And the white camellia?”
“You’re adorable.”
For a moment, silence fell between them. Even the great polymath had his limits, and he did not realize what he was saying—or how it would be construed—until he glanced at her curiously and found her staring back at him.
Oh.
“No, I mean…” He coughed. “That… is what the flower means.”
She blinked. Quickly returning to her senses, she began to shake her head, as if to simply laugh off the misunderstanding. “Yes, right.”
For as much as he was inclined to laugh along with her, however, he found himself unable to do so. Once more he felt his heart squeeze in his chest—though this time, it was a more uncomfortable feeling. Uncomfortable in a familiar, sinking way.
“Well, anyway… I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that you’ve studied flower language at some point as well. You’ve studied practically everything else,” she said, attempting to keep the mood light and teasing. “At times I wonder, is there anything you don’t know?”
Leonardo found himself staring at her a moment longer, somewhat troubled by that old feeling in his chest, and taken aback by the realization that he did, in fact, find her quite adorable. Not wanting to keep her waiting for a response, lest she start to suspect there was something on his mind, he sighed and managed a little smile.
“...Actually, cara mia… There are plenty of things I don’t know.”
With that, he reached over and carefully plucked one of the little flowers nearby. He tucked the flower behind her ear, grinning with satisfaction as he watched her demeanor brighten again.
“Hm, that’s better.”
“That was a pink camellia, right?” She gazed back at him with that curious look he loved so much to see on her.
“Maybe so.”
An ambiguous response, as if he had simply chosen the flower at random, when they both knew that wasn’t the case.
“What does that one mean, then?”
Something in Leonardo’s grin became a bit more wistful. There was another beat of silence, and then, suddenly, he reached out and lightly ruffled her hair.
“...I concede defeat,” he said, after pretending to think for a moment. “I’ve forgotten.”
Laughing at his actions as she tried to fix her hair, she seemed quite pleased by the thought of having gotten one over on him. So pleased that—much to his relief—she let it drop, and did not question him any further about the flower’s meaning.
Leonardo watched her smiling, standing in the sun with a flower in her mussed-up hair, and studied her as though she were one of the wonders of the world. There was no longer any doubt in his mind as to what exactly this feeling was, weighing so heavily upon his heart. And there was no doubt that he had chosen the right flower to express it.
Even if he could never say it to her face—his lovely Crocus, who had so miraculously appeared in his life across time and space, and who was bound to one day return to her own world beyond that door—he could not deny it.
This unspeakable feeling, represented by a pink camellia.
I long for you.
#also praying that I have the correct meanings for these flowers#I did some research but every source says something a little bit different ;-;#if there are any inaccuracies it was me and not leonardo lol#at any rate I really hope you enjoy!! it was a lot of fun to write for you!!#ikemen vampire#my ikemen valentine gift exchange#ikevamp#ikevamp leonardo
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Sorry for the wait!!! My exchange for @ohtomatotome
Also thank you again @ikemenlibrary for hosting yet another exchange event!
Sebastian's surprised & impressed with MC's tempering skills~
#aki's art#ikemen vampire#ikemen vampire sebastian#akihiko satou#my ikemen valentine gift exchange#gift exchange#art#cybird ikemen series
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Sweeter than chocolate
this little gift is for you @daegupaksu I hope it comes at least a little closer to your expectations ❤️ I had a lot of fun drawing Lance's abs
and as always, thank you @ikemenlibrary for doing another amazing gift exchange and supporting me in my moments of crisis 😂
now no more chatter, here's my fanart of Lance with Alice
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Read to Me
Chevalier asks MC to read some poetry to him, much to her surprise. She soon realizes a book of poems isn't as innocent as it sounds. Approx 1600 words.
Written for the Ikemen Prince Gift Exchange! This is for @aquagirl1978
Chevalier regarded the former Belle and future queen with a bland expression. She was still explaining her idea for a family picnic and how she might include everyone -
“I think it would be easy enough to convince Yves and Licht, of course, and Clavis would show up just to cause chaos but Nokto is so hard to pin down!” Her eyes were bright with determination, showing a glint of the steel in her soul. “I was thinking of putting some perfume on his invitation - not mine, of course! And lipstick?”
He didn’t care whether or not she held her picnic, though he had no doubt she would. And every one of his brothers would be there, because she knew how to ask them. She’d grown into her position in the palace. Emissary of the Brutal Beast. The King’s common lover. Keeper of his library, and his heart. Chevalier found his lips curling into a small smile.
“Did you think of something for Sariel? I can’t pull him away from his work for even an hour and -”
“Come.” Chev stood and held out his hand. When she took it, he still felt her warmth prickle along the nerves of his arm and speed his beating heart. He didn’t think he would ever get used to the love in her eyes nor the simple trust she placed in him. His calloused hand cupped her small, soft fingers gently as if she were blown glass.
She said nothing as he led her out of the library and into the garden. Late summer brought out the riotous colors, every plant weighted with heavy-headed blossoms. But it was only when they came within sight of the rose-entwined gazebo that she made a noise. Soft, breathy. A sigh just on the edge of hearing.
Roses in scarlet and crimson twined about the wood structure, curling up the columns and hanging in vermillion boughs at every opening. The air was scented with their perfume and even the light took on a pink tinge within the confines of that place.
Chevalier’s heartbeat faltered a moment as the sound she made brought back a tumble of memories. Her parted lips, heavy-lidded gaze, soft breasts in the glow of afternoon sun. The feel of her skin beneath him. Perfect recall was not always a strength, he thought, mildly chagrined.
He led her to the wood bench beneath the awning, a hidden spot, a favorite place to go and read without being disturbed. “Sit.”
She sat down beside him, her smile more beautiful to him than the curtain of roses around them. There was no blossom to compare. “Thank you for showing me this, Chevalier. I get so caught up in palace stuff that I forget to enjoy being here.”
His snort of laughter was soft and not unkind.
She nestled into his side with a happy sigh.
“Here.” He fished his newest acquisition from an inner pocket. The slim volume had no title painted on the leather cover, nor an author’s name. “Read to me.” Chevalier kissed her temple, inhaling the scent of her.
“Mmm. Alright. What page are you on?” She raised an eyebrow, expectantly.
“I have not begun it yet.” Her little gasp of surprise pushed his smile wider. “I thought to save it for you. Something to share.” He could feel the way her pulse sped at his words. The effect of such a small gesture of affection. Chevalier loved her reactions.
She opened the book, flipping past the title page and the list of contributing authors. Eager to get to the meat of it, so to speak. “Ok. Umm, this one is . . . Come Slowly, Eden? It looks like - poetry?” Her head tilted to better regard him.
“I like poetry. Sometimes.” He couldn’t help the slight, teasing tone to his voice. “Go on.”
“Right. So -
Come slowly – Eden!
Lips unused to Thee –
Bashful – sip thy Jessamines –
As the fainting Bee –
Reaching late his flower,
Round her chamber hums –
Counts his nectars –
Enters – and is lost in Balms.”
She paused, read back through it again, her eyes tracing the lines, fingertips light on the edges of the pages. “Chevalier . . . is this love poetry?”
“Is it?” He raised an eyebrow. “Continue. Your question is better answered by the text.” Chev pulled her tight against his hip, settling his arm around her shoulders.
“I had no idea.” She laughed. “Love poems. And you’ll remember every single line?”
“Of course, simpleton. Stop delaying.”
“Mhmmm.” She was flushed slightly now, her cheeks warm. “Next then.” She flipped the page, scanning the text with her eyes.
“Carnal apple, Woman filled, burning moon,
dark smell of seaweed, crush of mud and light,
what secret knowledge is clasped between your pillars? -”
She paused, scanning all the way down the page now, gaze flitting from line to line, lips parted in mute surprise before she mumbled -
“Kiss by kiss I cover your tiny infinity,
your margins, your rivers, your diminutive villages,
and a-”
Her breath trembled as she read and re-read the text. “Ah, let’s - let’s pick a different one, hm?”
“You don’t like that one?” His fingertip traced the edge of her ear.
“Chevalier!” She threw him a glare, though she knew he could see right past her faux-outrage.
“Pick another, then.” He watched as she thumbed through the pages, her eyes going wider with each printed line of dark ink. She didn’t seem likely to stop on one. Her shyness, even after all this time, amused him. As if there were any poems in this book more erotic than the love they made. “That one,” he chose for her.
She squirmed a moment and then surrendered. “You don’t even know if you like this one.”
“I will know after you read it.” He rested his chin atop her head.
“Whatever happens with us, your body
will haunt mine—tender, delicate
your lovemaking . . .”
Her breath was shallower than usual, and he could feel the pounding of her heart against his chest. How silly and precious she was, this lover of his. Chevalier eased her onto his lap, enjoying the solid warmth of her pressing against him.
“Mmm . . .” She gave him a look that said she knew all too well he was teasing, but that she planned to go along with it.
“like the half-curled frond
of the fiddlehead fern in forests
just washed by sun.”
Chevalier let his lips find the edge of her ear. Brushing her skin lightly there, his breath ghosting across her cheek.
“I - I can’t concentrate when you do that. I thought you wanted me to read?” She wriggled defiantly, knowing exactly the effect such a motion would have on him.
He bit back the breathy groan and gave her the iciest look he could muster. “Read.”
The slight curl of her lips told him she was well aware of her effect, noise or no.
“Your traveled, generous thighs
between which my whole face has come and come—
the innocence and wisdom of the place my tongue has found th- there—”
Her stuttering was more the effect of his teeth grazing her neck, than the text, he thought. Her skin was salty-sweet, a slight bitter tang from her perfume, sweat, and the deliciousness of her.
She tried to ignore his touch, but focusing on the sensual language was no help. Her voice quavered as she read on.
“the live, insatiate dance of your nipples in my mouth—
your touch on me, firm, protective, searching
me out . . .”
Her entire face was hot now, and she licked the corner of her mouth with the tip of her tongue.
The gesture made Chevalier want to kiss her. “Is that the last line?” He knew it was not. He could see the page easily enough and had already learned the words by heart.
“No but . . . Chevalier . . . it’s -” She gestured to the book helplessly.
“Read it to me.” He spoke the words against her skin. His rasping voice sent a trembling pleasure through her and she bit her lip in rebellion to it.
Her expression was one of internal conflict. The desire to give in to his demands and her natural defiance. “Alright. Here,
your strong tongue and slender fingers
reaching where I - I -”
Chevalier smiled as she stumbled over the final lines. Her breath was thready with excitement, and her heart sped faster still. He loved seeing her like this, nearly undone by a few words and light touches. Her reaction had nearly undone him as well. Though he hid it well - no blushing or gasping breath for him - his pulse was racing too, and a certain tension coiled in him. “Go on.”
She cleared her throat,
“I had been waiting years for you
in my rose-wet cave—whatever happens, this is.”
Her eyes read over the words again, tracing the ink with her fingertip.
He lifted her hand from the page and kissed the tip of her finger, his lips and tongue and teeth tasting her. From one finger to another, her palm, her wrist. Chevalier wanted to devour her whole. To strip her here, in this blossom bower and love her with every part of him until every part of her was claimed. He nearly shook with restraint as he let go of her hand.
“Chevalier.” His name said with equal parts love and desire. She turned to face him, her fingers traced the line of his jaw. Brushed his lower lip, satin on velvet. Then she kissed him, soft and hungry.
His arms went around her, pulling her closer. Heat like an August sun beneath the ice of his exterior burst through him. The moment stretched, shared breath and the possessive tangle of limbs and lips, tongues and teeth. Sighs stained the close-held air, petal-soft caresses kept secret by the gallery of roses.
Come Slowly, Eden by Emily Dickinson
Carnal Apple, Woman Filled, Burning Moon by Pablo Neruda
The Floating Poem, Unnumbered by Adrienne Rich
#ikemen prince gift exchange#ikemen prince#ikepri chevalier#chevalier michel#spicy#fanfiction#fanfic#otome#otome guys
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A Trip Away
My gift for @maeko-kun for the Ikemen Valentine Gift Exchange! I couldn't come up with a good background for where Nokto and MC would vacation so I've drawn them about to go on their trip instead. Where they're going is a secret just for them
Thank you @ikemenlibrary for hosting this event!
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The gentle stag Rewrites the stars
The gentle stag Rewrites the stars
Fandom: Ikemen Prince
Pairing: Keith x MC
Part of : Ikemen Prince Gift Exchange hosted by @ikemenlibrary and @sunnyikemen
Gift for @ridiculouslly-ridiculous, I really hope you may like it 🤗
Tag: Slow burn Mutual pining Party Stargazing Realization of feelings Confession of requited feelings First Kiss Fluff
Word Count : 3.962
Author’s Note: The so very friendly and not at all romantic relationship she has with Keith begin to get more intimate when he invites her over to a ball held to celebrate his birthday.
Pleasant occasion turn the ball into a stargazing date, where they realize the feeling they have for one another and couldn't hide any longer, for nothing resist to the almighty power of Love. 🥰
Side Note: All the images were found on Pinterest-Google and I was unable to find the source, please if any of you know the owner tell me and I will provide to give the artist the credit for the image.
Tag list
@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @aquagirl1978 @violettduchess @atelieredux @klutzyroses @randonauticrap @thewitchofbooks @princess-pray-a @judejazza @itsmyara
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 😊
“It isn’t a date.”
What I hoped to be a confident assertion of my plan for the night did nothing but elicit giggles and knowing smirks from all the princes, sat around the round table.
Leon was the first to break the ice, or as well melt it with the warmth of his smile.
“Alright then, if you say so we believe you, it's true guys ?”
I hoped they would have listened to him … but in vain, as I noticed seeing Jin smirk as he spoke breezily.
“Of course darling, an invite to a party, in his country, really sounds like a casual stroll to me.”
I sighed as much as I hated that impression he was right, and yes I may have been getting my hopes up a little bit, but he was such a wonderful gentleman, and it was impossible not to love him.
“Be careful out there.” Licht hidden kindness melted my heart, I met his eyes melting at the sight of a soft light smile curling his lips, I didn’t shy away from requiting with one of my own
“I will, thanks for the advice.”
“Remember to pay attention to your outfit, and don’t dare look sloppy on your date.” Yves' warning makes me smile with gratitude, of course I should avoid it or else the nobles will mock me, easily ignoring the fact he called it a date,
“Thank you I will, don’t worry.”
“As if.” his haughty attitude didn't change a bit but the slightly more relaxed smile curling his lips told me another story.
Truth to be told, Keith's wicked side intrigued me like his soft one, the fact I was the only one in Rhodolite to know of his birthday and of his sides maybe made me special to him somehow, or at least I hoped so.
I turned at the sound of a scoff, coming from the head of the table opposite to Leon, in time to see a little smile play on Chevalier’s lips before he resumed his usual stern expression.
If even he didn’t believe me then it was useless to hope someone else would, if even he saw our meetings as dates I can only imagine what kind of rumors had spread around the courts about us.
“Dearie me. Who could have imagined you would have been conquered by him of all people?” I glared at Clavis, ignoring his amber eyes gleaming mischievously, immediately backed up by Nokto,
“He certainly played his card right little lady, you got to admit it.” the foxy grin on his smile tickling on my nerves, pushing me t to give him a piece of my mind
“He isn't my lover.” I declare in a futile attempt at dissuading them from a truth everyone saw but me.
“Not yet.”
“As much as I am fascinated by Keith.” I do my best to ignore the accomplices smiles Julie and Luke kept giving one another as they look up at me, mentally slapping my face for pronouncing his name, like we were intimate, we are a bit, but still, I sigh heavily, great now everyone knows what I feel for him, confirming things they already thought on their own anyway.
“Prince Keith is only a friend. I know my place.”
Or at least, I should have known my adoration with him would have done nothing but hurt us both. Everyone knew it but him, blissfully unaware and careless of the supposed forbiddance of that feeling while our meetings became more and more similar to romantic trysts than mere strolls.
“As you desire sweetie.” a playful smile curled Julie’s lips glimmering in her bright green eyes, knowing her fondness for matchmaking I am sure she saw straight through my lies, but it was the best I could offer to fool myself with a non-existent distance between us.
“Thank you for listening to me.” I took advantage of the courtesy to calm down my heart beating furiously in my chest, with measured steps I walked toward the door, my hand was on its knob … when a crystal clear voice reached my ear.
“Enjoy your rendez-vous alors.” a Cheshire cat grin danced on her lips, receiving only a hearty chuckle as answer to my glare.
Once out of the door I let out a sigh I didn't know I was holding in until now, affection swelling in my heart at the thoughtfulness they had for me, even though someone showed that better than others, and with a spring in my step I direct myself toward my room, basking in the excitement filling my heart at the prospect of that night party.
The afternoon flew by in an instant, my effort to study was useless, since the only thing in my mind was him. Love was forbidden between a commoner and a noble or, at least, was a lot more difficult than how I read it to be in countless fairytales … but how can you rule the unruly, govern the ungovernable, put rules to emotions, and oblige the heart to follow them?
Brief answer: you can’t.
I sigh heavily, pushing aside the book I was reading, yet another way to cram my head with etiquette and rules that I should have followed to disguise myself as a noble, hoping for it to be enough to earn my place by his side … if only Keith, too, would have been so crazy as to favor love over politics regarding marriage matters.
Wondering if our love was starcrossed or written above the stars, I looked to them beginning to twinkle in the early evening sky, still colored with the warm hues of the setting sun in search of answers to questions that kept me thinking all through the day, especially after a totally casual and not at all romantic meeting of ours.
The ever present mantra of not getting too close to him flew out from the window the instant he appeared in my mind, making a jolt of blush spread across my cheeks as I adjusted the tiara on my curls in front of the mirror, mindful to adjust every detail to perfection, running my hands over the soft jade velvet of the gown, a color I chose thinking of him alike the nature themed accessory completing my outfit.
The carriage ride to Jade took longer than expected but I didn’t pay any attention to it, too lost in the admiration of the flourishing countryside scenery out of the window.
The drumming of my heartbeat only got louder as I caught a glimpse of the Royal palace, dazzling bright like a gleaming Jade stone surrounded by a thick forest amidst the blue velvet of the night sky, embroidered with stars, that so many times Keith and I looked at together.
I ran my fingers nervously over the richly decorated envelope, an official invite to his birthday party, sighing dreamily I caressed his signature, a flamboyant calligraphy I would have recognized amidst thousands.
A celebration he always felt no need for, but everyone insisted on celebrating as he confessed albeit shily to me only a few days prior as we were having tea together … and not that too was not a date … perhaps ?
Nervously I stir my fingers on the gown adjusting invisible crinkles, before rushing to take a mirror pocket from my pochette to check out on my makeup and straight the tiara on my curls, to distraction myself I pick up the coins he gifted me rolling it between my thumb and forefingers, letting out a sigh to dispel my anxiety, smiling fondly at the memory of how he taught me how to make it dance in my palm, even though I was not even good enough as him I liked keep playing, reminiscing all the times we spent together, swelling my heart with all the love I and for him and was doing my best to forget but in vain.
The palace got bigger at each roll of the wheels on the cobblestone mixing with the horses’ hooves as the rhythmic undulation of the carriage slowed as we approached the gates, trailing off in a path surrounded by a rainbow of flowers and foliage billowing in the wind greeting the guests.
My heart beat so loudly almost drowning the music coming from inside, I place and hand over it overwhelmed by a rush of anxiety mixed with excitement as the carriage came to a halt in front of his entrance.
I slide off as gracefully as possible letting the excitement for the night that awaited for me lead the way, pushing away all my nervousness as I smile, concentrating myself to not fall from my high heels keeping a straight composure as I approach the throne placed on a mezzanine floor, with the windows on their back.
I catch my breath at his sight I didn’t know it was possible but he looked even more gorgeous than ever in his formal clothes shining like a Jade under the light of the moon, shaking my head I focus on my courtesy, after the attendant presented me as the daughter of a Rhodolite noble, a surge of pride swelled in my chest at the small satisfied smile playing on his lips.
I let out a sigh of relief I didn't know I was holding in until now, meeting his amber gaze as I rose from my position, smiling at his thoughtfulness at the sight of him descending the stairs to come greet me.
“You looked really beautiful tonight, as ever.” His compliment makes a surge of pride swell in me, as I unconsciously bow to him, sliding my fingers over the front of my gown, letting the softness of the velvet under my fingers calm me down a little bit.
I lower my head bashfully to hide my blush behind the fan gazing at his heart melting expression, a tender smile curled on his lips, radiating acceptance and kindness glimmering in his golden eyes as he took my hand in his leaving a gentle kiss on my knuckles, enough to set my skin on fire, I tried to refresh fanning myself but in vain, for the warmth of his hands still lingered on mine even after he retracted it.
“Thank you so much for coming, it made me so happy to have you here today.”
My heart jumped in my chest at the honesty in his voice, so different from the shallow lies of the nobles I got used to during my time at the palace.
“It was my pleasure and honor to meet you, Prince Keith. May I wish you a pleasant and mirthful birthday.”
"It is now that you are here with me." the earnestness of his heartfelt confession bring a smile to my lips as he tucked a rebel curl behind my ear, ignoring the way my heart raced out of control at the warm contact of his fingers brushing on my cheeks, while an hint of sensuality flickered on his honeyed eyes for a brief second, enough to make me yearn for more.
There was a hint of shyness in his smile as he gazed back at me, while a soft rosy blush crept up on his cheeks making my heart swell with love I held for him, enhanced by the tenderness I saw reflected in his golden eyes as he leaned to me, his breath fanning on my cheeks distracting me from everything else, moment I savour to the fullest revelling in the little touch of his chest brushing against my breast, as my heart galloped wildly in a frenzy from his allure.
“I would like to show you something.” He bit his bottom lip, fidgeting with his own fingers before raising his wide doe-like eyes to look at me with such a heart melting gaze I couldn’t deny anything to
“Do you want to come with me ?” his almost pleading tone pulled at my heartstring, I tenderly placed my gloved hand over his own.
“Of course, lead me.” The sun dawned once more on his features brightened by such a pure soft smile I stared in awe at, I would go with you anywhere if you asked me a secret wish I keep to myself.
I bask in his manly warm hands engulfing mine as he lead me to a secret passage directed to his personal astronomy tower that only he would grace his presence upon, since he kindly explained to me that the astronomer was too engrossed in a deep discussion with the librarian to ever notice or care about the falling stars scheduled for that night to happen.
“I see well it’s cute that is happening today. It's like a gift from the universe.”
I sense him smiling as he gently squeezing my hand in his,
“Moreover I hope you will like my present when you open it, I left it at the entrance with the others.”
“Trust me, your presence here is the best gift I could ever receive from you.”
his soft voice dripped with tenderness as he squeezed my hand, turning around to give me a heart melting smile, so bright to shine even through the darkness of the corridor.
Once arrived there I follow him out on the balcony, my breath catch in my throat, mesmerized by the view of the Kingdom stretching before my eyes, shrouded in darkness almost a continuation of the night sky, with the stars sliding down to play hide and seek from clouds to the towns’ houses, a sight so beautiful to entrance me completely, smiling at the pleasant contact of his masculine forms hovering over next to me while his pinky finger ever so shily crawl on the railing to overlap with mine.
I looked up at him but he simply smiled, enraptured by his handsome features I smiled back at him, squeezing his hand as he engulfed mine in his once more.
“It is so … beautiful.” I manage to murmur as I stare in awe at the sight, sliding to look back at him, the light of the lanterns dancing on his alluring features
“I am so happy you like it.”
“Look out there for the falling star, don’t forget to make a wish-”
“-And it will be granted.” I continue smiling at him, revelling in our shared knowledge.
Curiosity and hope got the best of me and before I know it I had my eyes glued to the sky feeling his pinky finger ever so slowly crawl to entwine with mine as I look briefly at him, seeing a soft smile plastered on his lips as he feigned innocence staring at the stars, reflected in his golden eyes.
I bask in that intimate contact hoping from the bottom of my heart the darkness could conceal the red blush of my cheeks, the same shade of rose I saw dusting over his as I softly squeezed his fingers, he ever so softly entwined with mine.
A bit of time passed by and nothing was in sight, so much so that I was thinking that maybe the towns’ light overshine over the stars … when suddenly I saw it.
A comet rushing amidst them all, burning bright, like my love for him, piercing through the clouds near the moon.
Unable to stay still I beam brightly pointing out excitedly at the sky
“I saw one, there.” I smile at him, unable to look away from the galaxy reflected in his gaze as the lights of the lanterns and the moon danced in the golden pool of his eyes.
“You seem to be lucky tonight, I have yet to see any.”
“Don’t be upset. I am sure you will see one too soon.”
“Have you expressed your wish?”
“Yes.” I confess bashfully
“But I don’t know if it became true.” I trail off, looking down at the towns’ below, wondering if maybe I could belong there too, a wishful dream I brush off shaking my head from the bittersweet thought of what could have been … if only I would have been a noble but I wasn’t and so I was forced to see my love off with another, I clutch my fingers on my heat to calm the painfully tug at the thought.
“Why not ?” His tone dripping with concern as he leaned next to me, brushing his thumb on the back of my hand, managing to calm be it for a while my racing heart, making my focus shift back to him
“It … too strange that is.” I looked briefly up at him, in time to see surprise in his widened eyes, while a sympathetic smile played on his lips.
“I am sure it will.”
His support warmed my heart as I squeeze his hand before going back to gaze at the sky, doing my best but failing at forgetting the love I felt for him, or else this would have led us to our downfall and the mere idea of hurting him was unbearable to me, desiring from the bottom of my heart for him to be happy.
A bit of time went by and I kept my eyes open for any sign of a falling star, ready to indicate that to him and gave him the chance to make a wish too, all that to earn that bright, tender smile of his that never failed to make my heart swell with love and affection for him.
I had just thought that when his gentle voice shook me from my reveries
“I saw one too.”
“You made your wish Keith ?” I leaned over with curiosity, I know well it was forbidden to tell it but a part of me wondered what he used it for … but with great astonishment he shook his head, his tone unusually serious as he looked straight at me.
“Wishing upon a star? What for when I have everything I could have wished for and more right there, in my arms.”
His masculine brawny body engulfing me in his hug, I looked up at him seeing affection glimmering in his amber gaze, glimmering like molten gold at the warm suffused light coming from the lanterns of the balcony.
It was too good to be true, he was a prince and I was … well I a commoner faking to be a noble even though he knew of it this didn’t changed the difference in our status
“Keith please.” I beg, half hoping he wasn’t joking for my heart would have not take too well the delusion of my feelings being teased so openly
“It is not a lie” his words filled my heart with hope, as it began to race out of control in my chest so much I was sure he could hear it too.
“But your duty …”
“Is to follow my heart and that is what I am doing.This always has been the best thing to do for us in Jade and I am no exception.” This statement took me off guard, I always assumed Royalty everywhere married off just for duty and alliance but he proved me wrong and no one knows how much I was immensely grateful for it.
“But who can love someone like me.” My insecurities speaking up before I had a chance to shut them up, I bit my lip trailing my gaze on my fingers curled on his chest,
“I will.” his sturdy fingers cupped my face, raising me to meet his gaze, unwavering, loyal and honest like I came to know both his sides to be.
“I am not tricking you, please trust me.” a plea dripping over his tone pushing me to let down my guard, as I always did around him looking back into his gaze
“I love you.” the brightness of a thousand suns glimmering in his honey eyes, pouring over his tender smile.
“Oh Keith I love you too.”
The sensation of his lips on mine was nothing like I expected it, it was far better, it really felt like we were melting into one another, it was shy and a bit clumsy I felt his hands curl on my hips to help me remain on my feet as I get swept off by the soft movements of his lips savouring mine, while I grip my fingers on his shirt, afraid he may slip off if I loosened my clutch … but there was no need to, as he proved wrapping his arms around me holding me close to his chest.
Reluctantly he pulled away leaning his forehead to mine, brushing his thumb on my cheeks, before trailing it over my sensitive bottom lip, a dreamy sigh escaped my lips immediately robbed by his lips landing once more on mine,it was a brief kiss but enough to let me desiring for more, enhanced by his warm breath fanning over my swollen lips.
“Please grant me the honor of being my fiancé.”
The honest affection filling his golden eyes mesmerize me, driving me in further into that golden pool I wished to swim in with him … and now finally could after week spent wishing and dreaming to become his lover,
“Oh Keith. Yes.” the diamond on the ring glimmered in the sheer light of the moon witness of that peculiar engagement as he ever so gently slide it on my ring finger, unknowingly setting my heart ablaze with indescribable happiness and swollen with love, racing in my chest with all the affection I held for him, I hoped to convey tip toeing to leave a tender kiss on his soft cheeks, revelling in his rosy blush.
Surely he would have had a lot of things to explain to the court sooner or later, like I should have to after all … but for now all that mattered was us, alone on his balcony sharing a promise with only the stars as guardians of our love.
I welcomed the softness of his lips melting once more on mine in a sweet, tender kiss, robbing me of any coherent thought as he embraced me ever so strongly swallowing the ever soft whimpers escaping from my lips as he deepened the kiss, while my fingers dived in his soft grey curls and his own tightened around my hips as he hold me close to him.
Reluctantly he pulled away brushing a gentle kiss on my forehead as he took my hands in his, placing a gentle kiss on their knuckles looking straight at me
“I love you my little bunny always and forever.” his heartfelt confession moved me to the core, I did my best to reciprocate.
“I love you too, my stag, all of you, so very much.”
He placed his head on mine, pulling me in a slow improvised waltz on the balcony floor, I eagerly followed, leaning my head on his chest, hearing our hearts beating in sync like one, like the soulmates we were destined to be.
The princes of Rhodolite were right since the beginning this was a date, and no one knew how much happy it made me to have been able to finally confess that feeling I held secretly hidden in my heart until that moment
Love was a gift, I always believe in that, but no one of all my books prepared me for this, to love and to be loved was pure bliss, it filled your heart with affection and happiness, a passion smoldering as the sun and ten fold as bright, inexplicable to describe and I was grateful to all the universe for making that possible, bringing us together as written above the stars since the beginning of the universe and for all eternity.
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Ikepri Gift Exchange
Unaccepted Together~
Clavis Lelouch x Reader
For the gift exchange I got to write for @scummy-writes!!! Thank you so much @ikemenlibrary and @sunnyikemen for hosting such a fun event!
I really hope this fit what you were thinking of Scum!! I had a lot of fun writing it, but I always have fun writing Clavis! Thank you for such a fun prompt to work with <3
Pairing: Clavis Lelouch x Reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Soft Smut-Does contain explicit content
NSFW | MDNI
WC: 1.8k
CW: Marking, Fingering, Oral (fem receiving)
Another nightmare… Great. You groan, throwing a pillow over your face to block the sunshine that was now streaming in through the window, unintentionally rousing your lover.
“Oh my, morning already?” Clavis yawns, stretching out languidly like a big cat. You let out an unintelligible grumble, crossing your arms over the pillow covering your face.
“Well now, this won’t do. I can’t have a pleasant morning if you’re covering up my very favorite sight to wake to.”
Clavis’s long fingers slip between your arms, prying them apart. He doesn’t have to try very hard, all fight draining from your body at his gentle touch. Now all you could think about was drawing comfort from his warm embrace, and yet the events of your nightmare played through your mind again.
You don’t belong here. Who are you trying to fool, you’ll never be good enough to be at Clavis’s side. No one will ever accept you. You should give up and go back to your miserable life as a commoner and let someone deserving of Clavis earn his affection.
You shut your eyes tightly, trying to keep the tears back at the thought. You’ve been feeling this way for such a long time. Every moment with Clavis is pure bliss, his attentive love and penchant for mischief always had you on your toes but also kept you in a fantastic mood.
However, as is typical of a member of the royal family, Clavis was unable to be with you at all times. He had duties to attend to and this left you on your own in the royal court. Sure, there were things you could do to keep yourself busy as you awaited his return, but the most recent assignment your lover had been sent on had kept him away for such a long time, leaving you to wander the halls of the palace in search of some way to keep your mind off missing him.
You had overheard some noble women conversing, not so subtly, about how Clavis surely could find a more appropriate companion, someone who was born and bred for just such a role as the future wife of a member of the royal family.
You hadn’t stuck around to hear more, your worst fears confirmed. You were still not accepted and you feared you never would be, and Clavis would soon come to his senses as well and realize the same thing.
Cue the never-ending nightmares plaguing your sleep and your now uncomfortable position of explaining why you would feel the need to hide your face.
You brace for the pillow to disappear, but let out a small squeak of surprise as you feel Clavis move to straddle your hips, his hands running up your arms slowly and gently.
“Now then, how shall I enact my revenge? You’ve stolen my joyful waking moment by hiding your face, so you certainly must desire my attention be directed elsewhere,” Clavis purrs, his voice low and sensual.
You feel heat welling within your belly, despite the horrible things your mind was saying, your body was all too receptive to your lover’s touch.
“No.”
You hoped your curt answer would be enough to get him to let you have some time to yourself to recover from the nightmare… actually you knew full well that such a statement would have the opposite effect.
“My oh my, you’ve decided to be quite the spitfire this morning. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Clavis swipes the pillow off of your face and freezes. His brows furrow and the corners of his mouth drop. He knows. Of course, he does. He’s not an idiot, he knows you better than anyone else.
“What has caused such a pained expression to mar your beautiful face so early in the morning, my dearest darling, light of my life?”
Taking a deep breath you sigh, “It’s nothing, really. Just some random thoughts messing with my head is all.”
“Ah, see therein lies the problem. Any thoughts making you feel less than wonderful are clearly not thoughts of me, and therefore you merely need to direct your attention to the handsome man before you,” Clavis chuckled, his eyes not matching the joyful tone of his voice. He was trying to distract you, he wanted to see you smile.
“You’re right, how foolish of me,” you reply, turning your mouth up in a light smirk while you communicated your true feelings through your eyes.
“Mmm, foolish indeed.” Clavis affirms, leaning down and pressing gentle kisses around the edges of your lips. His warm breath fills your senses, his rich comforting scent bringing an overwhelming sense of peace to your mind you reach up and loop your arms around his neck and pull him close. You don’t want to give up his calming effect on your heart and press your lips firmly against his, sighing contentedly as your kiss is returned with fervor.
Clavis leans his head back just slightly, gazing down at you with such warmth and tender love in his golden eyes.
“I love you with my entire being. I can’t imagine anyone else at my side, nor have I ever tried. You alone have tamed this beast and you alone have the right to claim this place beside me.”
His hushed voice fills your ears and eats away at the negative thoughts spinning through your mind. You feel tears beginning to pool in the corners of your eyes as he rectifies the lies you’d been telling yourself with the deadly precision of an expert hunter.
“I feel like I’ll never be fully accepted,” you whisper, feeling your voice crack slightly.
“Ah, then that makes two of us!” Clavis chuckles, brushing the back of his hand against your cheek before leaning in and capturing your lips in a brief kiss.
“You see, being the son of a maid doesn’t exactly lend itself to being accepted. That and it seems that not all nobles enjoy my brand of humor.”
Another kiss, and another.
“What do you say we be unaccepted together? If we both do it, they won’t have nearly as much fun trying to make us feel unwelcome. You’re my home, I want nothing but you and if they hurt you, they hurt me. I can’t exactly have nobles around who are willing to hurt a prince, now can I?”
“Clavis! Please tell me you didn’t do anything rash—” you scold, cut off as he buries his face against your neck and swipes his tongue against your skin.
“Nothing of the sort, the trap was meticulously planned with a very clear message to respect the prince’s decisions,” Clavis hushes, catching your skin between his teeth gently before suckling a deep red mark into existence.
“Haah… Clavis, you’re such an awful man…” You moan, letting your head fall to the side, eyes falling closed, and allowing him better access to your neck which he happily takes advantage of.
“Ah, but I am your awful man, so you’ll have to try harder to quell this terrible behavior I think.” His low voice purrs into your ear and sends a shudder through your body.
His hands move freely, gently stroking every inch of skin they can come into contact with until it seems he has himself far too riled up to hold back any longer.
“Might I enjoy my second favorite thing to wake up to in the morning?” He asks, speaking the words between kisses.
Your head is becoming light and the knot of desire tightens as you feel Clavis begin to maneuver his body lower, his hands kneading the flesh of your thighs and a satisfied groan rumbling in his chest.
When you let your eyes blink open again, you’re met with an intense desire reflecting in pools of molten gold. You nod your head slightly, taking in a sharp breath at the way Clavis’s eyes flare with hunger and his tongue darts out to lick his lips.
His body slips down from yours, his weight settling on the mattress between your legs as he begins kissing and sucking at the skin of your inner thighs. The heady moans and grunts he’s making as he loses himself in savoring your legs leave you trembling, your pussy dripping in anticipation as his face draws closer.
Clavis pushes the hem of your short nightgown up over your hips, taking no time to nestle his face between your thighs and begin working his mouth over your sensitive bud.
“Oh god, Clavis…” you whimper, electricity jolting through you as his tongue flicks playfully over your clit.
One of his hands curls around your leg, the other slipping down to join his mouth in his need to demonstrate his desire for you. Your back arches and your hands fly up to cling to his hair as the warmth of his tongue against your folds is replaced by two fingers stoking the fire within you into a blazing inferno.
Each time your hips buck against his face, he lets out a low groan and you can feel the thread of need become taut, threatening to snap at any moment.
You lift your head slightly as you feel the heat of his mouth disappear. Clavis’s face is flushed a deep crimson and his pupils are blown out with need.
“I want you to come undone darling. Cum on my tongue and show my how good I make you feel.”
His instructions paired with the resurgence of his lips sucking at your clit leave your body shattering as your release rips through you. Your legs are trembling and your hands tug desperately at his hair as you hold his face against you, savoring every movement of his fingers as he draws out more and more pleasure.
When you finally feel the last throes of your passion beginning to wane, you let your eyes flutter open. Your vision is filled with Clavis’s face, his chin wet with your juices and an incredibly satisfied smile playing across his lips. He runs his arm across his mouth, wiping away any remaining moisture before kissing you, almost gingerly.
“Now that is what I would consider a good morning to me,” Clavis jokes playfully, settling his lean body beside yours and pulling you into his arms in a tight hug.
“Thank you for being mine,” he adds quietly, words muffled in your hair as though he didn’t intend for you to hear him.
You feel your heart skip a beat at the genuine gratitude you know Clavis has for you being with him. Having his arms around you like this, his strong heartbeat and steady breathing once again bring you an unmistakable peace.
He truly does want me with him, you think to yourself, he thinks I am worthy of being at his side. If he believes that, I can believe it too.
#ikemen prince#ikepri#clavis lelouch#ikepri clavis#ikemen prince clavis#ikepri gift exchange#clavis lelouch smut#smut#nsft
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My Ikémen Valentine Gift Exchange Masterlist
Thank you all once again for another great and successful exchange! I can't wait to see you all soon :) <3
The Gentle Stag Spell of Love | Keith Howell x MC | by @queengiuliettafirstlady for keithsandwich
A Sweet Taste | Silvio Ricci x Emma (MC) | by @keithsandwich for goustmilk
Love Letters (Artwork) | Nokto Klein x Noele (OC) | by @goustmilk for drachonia
Chocolates & Cake (Artwork) | Jin Grandet x Lenore (OC) | by @drachonia for randonauticrap
Silent Letters to My Beloved | Rio Ortiz x Gender Neutral Reader | by @randonauticrap for coderealizes
A Chance Event | Clavis Lelouch x Female Reader | by @coderealizes for pondlilies00
A Trip Away (Artwork) | Nokto Klein x MC | by @pondlilies00 for maeko-kun
Give Me The Smile in Your Heart (Artwork) | Vlad x MC | by @maeko-kun for tacogawa
Under The Trees (Artwork) | Leon Dompteur x Julie (OC) | by @tacogawa for queengiuliettafirstlady
Together | Cyran Rose x AU Emma (MC) | by @violettduchess for readerinsertfiction
Fate | Comte de Saint Germain x MC | by readerinsertfiction for ikemenlibrary
Valentines in Wonderland | Luka Clemence x Alice (MC) | by @readerinsertfanfiction for bluejay-writes
Puppy Love Picnic | Silvio Ricci x Airin (OC) | by @bluejay-writes for airin-queenz
Sweet's Love (Artwork) | Keith Howell x Emma (MC) | by @airin-queenz for ridiculouslly-ridiculous
Finding Home Within You | Leon Dompteur x Emma (MC) | by @ridiculouslly-ridiculous for chirp-a-chirp
Revolve | Isaac Newton x Mitsuki (MC) | by @chirp-a-chirp for fang-and-feather
A Taste of Domesticity | Isaac Newton x Reader | by @fang-and-feather for bicayaya
How To Take Care of a Sick MC | Keith Howell x Emma (MC) | by @bicayaya for pillowpillowillow
Love Potion for Two | Clavis Lelouch x Emma (MC) | by @pillowpillowillo for kalims-pessimist-bestie
Take a Break | Jin Grandet x Oliver (OC) | by @kalims-pessimist-bestie for olivermorningstar
Evening Ride With You (Artwork) | Licht Klein x Emma (MC) | by @olivermorningstar for xbalayage
A Hidden Feeling | Silvio Ricci x Reader | by @xbalayage for violettduchess
It's You. You're My Kink | Clavis Lelouch x Emma (MC) | by @ohtomatotome for kokorokai
Sweeter Than Chocolate | Lancelot Kingsley x Alice (MC) | by @kokorokai for daegupaksu
Tempering Chocolate (Artwork) | Sebastian x Mitsuki (MC) | by @daegupaksu for ohtomatotome
Smarty Pants | Leonardo da Vinci x MC | by @sunnyikemen for technicolorbirds
Haunted Dreams | Licht Klein x Emma (MC) | by @technicolorbirds for midwinterrmomento
Flower Language | Leonardo da Vinci x MC | by @midwinterrmemento for sunnyikemen
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