#shapesoflovecc
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A/N: This is an entry for my and @lorei-writes Shapes of Love creation challenge. It was originally a spicy holiday prompt that I retooled a bit.
This fic's type of love: Eros with a touch of Mania
Gilbert x Reader
WC: ~1k
It is your first ball in Obsidian, the first ball since you made the decision to leave Rhodolite behind and remain here, at Gilbert’s side. Your nerves are tangled, electric under your skin. You want to make a good impression on those you know he works closely with. Or those he has a close eye on. You’re no longer a foreign guest but have been declared his consort, a position of considerable power. You hope tonight, at the winter ball, you will be able to earn the respect of those who may still be skeptical of the union.....well, secretly skeptical since you know Gilbert would have the head of anyone who dared even breathe a word against you.
You take a deep drink from your glass of chilled wine, reminding yourself that this is a celebration. It is Obsidian's final embrace of winter in all its beauty in the face of an encroaching spring. And you have done your best to dress for the occasion. Turning, you face the full-length iron-wrought mirror that leans against the wall of your dressing room. Your gown is a confection of black lace overlaying soft, shimmering silver. Black gloves, so fine they are almost transparent, stop just beyond your elbows and the smooth skin of your shoulders is bare. Black roses hang from your ears and your hair is pinned up by the pearlescent hair combs shaped like crescent moons that Gilbert gifted you the evening you told him you were staying. A wide, black silk ribbon is tied around your neck, hiding the dark blossoms left by his insistent mouth this morning. If anyone could see underneath the voluminous skirt of your beautiful dress, they would notice matching love-bites in almost symmetrical rings around your thighs and hips.
You’re just smoothing down the bodice when the door to the room opens and Gilbert, a vision in black and gold, steps in, the crisp, chill scent of winter following him wherever he goes. And although many would think you insane, you find yourself smiling at his presence. “There you are.” You fuss a moment with one of your hair clips, adjusting it ever so slightly. “I hope you like the dress? I know the tailor made it according to your design and I think she did an excellent job. But I know you’re very particular….”
You glance at him through the mirror and your words wither and die, dropping like fallen petals. It takes you a moment to recover, your voice and breath robbed by what you see. He has not said a word. He has not moved a centimeter since entering. His leather-gloved hand is still wrapped around the golden handle of the closed door. But there is hunger clearly etched into every line of his tensed body. It flickers in the deep red of his eye, a flame born the moment he entered. Slowly, oh so slowly, he lets go of the door handle and crosses the brocade carpeting towards you.
……why is your heart fluttering so recklessly in your chest, a butterfly trapped under crystal glass, erratic and beautiful and wild….
He comes to a stop behind you, staring into the mirror at your reflection. His gloved hands slide up your bare arms, up until they rest on your shoulders. There is possession in his tight grip, something dancing the border of discomfort as he drinks in the sight of you, held in place by the press of his fingers.
“Oh Häschen….this won’t do.” One hand slides up higher still, his fingers curling around the sensitive nape of your neck. His head tilts to one side, regarding the reversed image of you both in the glass. “You can’t go out there, like this.” He lowers his head, catching the tip of your ear with his sharp, white teeth before whispering. “This sight is for me and me alone.” His voice drips with dominion, rasps with barely-reined in restraint. Your chest rises and falls with every shallow breath, pressing against the black lace of your gown's sweetheart neckline.
He watches you for a moment, drinking in the paradox of your body, so perfectly still in his grasp and yet beneath the surface, chaos. Your blood courses frantically through your veins, pumped by a heart gone wild, lungs gone turbulent. Leaning against your back, he reaches around, holding his hands in front of you and very slowly removes one soft black leather glove. You’re hypnotized by the revelation of each lithe finger.
“Maybe…..”, he murmurs, tossing the glove aside where it falls listlessly to the floor, “Yes…maybe like this….” And you feel the cool kiss of his fingers touch the ribbon at your neck. It comes undone, a snake unwinding. Gilbert wraps it around his wrist as he thoughtfully studies the marks he left upon your skin this morning, in the gray, predawn light of his bedroom. “Like this, you are marked as mine. Maybe it would not make a difference who lays eyes on you if this is the first thing they see.”
He truly sounds like a man puzzling out a problem. Your mouth goes dry at the thought of being so brazen in front of all of Obsidian’s nobility and important citizens. Heat blossoms in your body, rises to your cheeks as you realize the idea of showing the world how he claimed you…is not unpleasant.
He can see the way your skin flushes, the gleam in your eyes and his breath catches in his chest where something hard and hot is born. “No….”, he whispers savagely, his blazing eye holding your gaze as captive as his hands are your hips. “No one else gets this. You are not meant to be seen looking like this by anyone else.” He has solved his puzzle.
The world shifts as you are gathered into his arms, held by a strength fueled by desire, by infatuation, by greed. He carries you away from the door with its golden handle, deeper into the shadows of the dressing room, towards the black velvet chaise longue in the back corner where he lays you down, covers you with his long body, his mouth already hungrily claiming yours, swallowing any protests you may try to make about waiting guests and making appearances.
Soon you won't have enough breath to even attempt forming words. All that you will be able to do is give in to the furious storm of his desire, bending like a reed under his voracious touch, his endless onslaught of exquisite, stinging kisses.
The ball, the guests, your beautiful new gown soon to be pooled on the floor in a heap of black lace and silver….all willingly, wantonly, blissfully forgotten.
Tagging: @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @olivermorningstar @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @ikesimpleton @ikemenlibrary @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 @joiedecombat @ozalysss
#ikemen series#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikepri gilbert#gilbert von obsidian#ikemen gilbert#shapesoflovecc#ikemen fanfiction#ikemen fanfic#otome fanfic#violettwrites
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Seven Rooms
Pairing: Keith and Alter!Keith/OC (Maeve)
Word Count: ~4k
Rating: Teen and Up
Tags: Breastfeeding, Parenting, Past Trauma Mentions, Family Fluff, Domestic.
Prompts: Storge (Familial Love) mainly, but with hints of Pragma (Enduring Love), and a teeny tiny bit of Eros (Sensual Love) in the Seventh Room.
Summary: Series of drabbles showing Keith and Maeve putting their six children to bed before finishing the day together.
Notes: Written for the Shapes of Love Creation Challenge, hosted by the amazing @lorei-writes and @violettduchess. Thank you so much! And special thanks to Lorei for being the best beta reader!
Watch out for the little Beatrice cameo @bicayaya 💕
First Room —
It was a quiet room where a beautiful scene unfolded, one that Keith looked forward to watching every evening.
By the door, he could see their figures bathed in the dim light of the candles — Maeve rocking in the nursing chair slowly, with their youngest latched onto her breast. She was focused entirely on their baby, smiling and softly cooing, while the little one made little murmurs and stretched his round fingers as if responding to her.
It had been a while since they had a baby as shy as Cosmos. In front of others, even his siblings, he would always hide behind his parents’ legs or stretch his little arms to be picked up, curling up against their chests while avoiding eye contact with anyone. But when alone and enveloped in his mother’s warmth, he would look at her attentively, smile, babble, and move with no inhibition.
And Keith understood him. Dealing with people could be overwhelming, but Maeve possessed this comforting aura that could make anyone feel free to be themselves around her. It certainly worked its magic on him, as her husband. He could only imagine how much more magical it could be for their children, enveloped in her neverending motherly love.
Maybe this was why he enjoyed silently watching such scenes for a while before getting inside the room. The tenderness melted his heart, making all of the day’s hard work even more worth it. Granted, he loved Jade and would give all of himself to his kingdom and for the flowers of happiness to bloom all over the land. But his family were his own flowers of happiness, and witnessing his garden grow radiant and full of love was much more than he could have hoped for in this life.
He would never understand how he could be so lucky.
When Cosmos unlatched and gurgled softly, announcing his satisfaction in his own way, Maeve gently cleaned his little face before covering herself. Finally, she looked up to meet Keith’s loving gaze, offering him a welcoming smile.
“Just in time! His belly is full of milk, and now he’s ready to sleep!” Maeve said with gentle excitement, hoping to make the baby smile without causing agitation. She kissed his cheek before holding him against her shoulder. Meanwhile, Keith approached them, joining their little, perfect world with a delicate touch on Cosmos’ back.
Together with his wife, he would sing him lullabies and rock him to sleep.
Second Room —
The room belonged to a girl that was a bit demanding, nonetheless sweet.
“Dada, tell story.” Aurora squeezed the deer plush tighter in her little arms, hanging on to keep herself awake with her sluggish voice and heavy eyelids.
“But mama just told you one, flower,” Keith said softly, his fingers running soothingly through her olive curls as he gently tried to coax her to sleep. She was properly tucked underneath the blankets, the room was warm, and Maeve, standing on the other side of the crib, had already told her a little fairy tale. However, her mind remained stubbornly alert.
“Baby like story…” she murmured so heartfelt a manner that Keith felt a pang in his chest, tearing up. He blinked back his tears and looked up at Maeve. She seemed to be more prepared to handle Aurora’s pleas than he was, discreetly gesturing for him to just go on.
Trying to convince her to sleep would only make her start fussing and maybe even crying. His heart couldn’t bear to see her cry. Given her drowsiness, telling another story would certainly be more effective, and Aurora would probably drift off in the middle of it.
“Alright…” he said, trying to think of a story to tell her. “Once upon a time, in a mystical forest far, far away, there lived two tiny fairies…”
Aurora wasn’t fully focused on his gentle voice. Her eyelashes fluttered more and more as she battled to keep her eyes open, and she cutely yawned every now and then. Still, Keith continued with the story patiently until her lids finally shut, and Maeve leaned in to place a kiss on her temple.
She was asleep at last.
“Good night, little sweet,” Keith said gently and mimicked his wife, kissing her other temple. Aurora stirred a bit, worrying him for a second. However, she simply turned to her side, still hugging her plushie.
Now that the room was completely silent, Keith caressed her soft hair for a while longer. She was a lot like Mireille, not only in the way she looked but also in her demeanor. He couldn’t help but feel nostalgic for the times when he used to look after his little sister, trying to be there for her since their mother couldn’t, and their father wouldn’t. Of course, he couldn’t really replace them, and eventually, he felt like a failure, which led him to distance himself from her, despite her own opinions about it.
Thankfully, a lot had changed since he found true love. Not only the one he shared with Maeve, although it was what opened his eyes and his heart to everything else. Self-love, loving his other self, and renewing the love for his family through his children by welcoming them with open arms, caused him to no longer feel like a failure when it came to caring for and protecting his loved ones. It had been a long journey, but one that had brought his sister, and surprisingly, even his father closer again — although the former king would always be a better grandfather than a father.
It all fell into place, and everything was flourishing as peacefully as Aurora was sleeping now.
“I promise I’ll always listen to you and never push you away,” he vowed to her silently.
Keith felt Maeve’s hands on his shoulders, and they brought him back to the present. He offered her an apologetic smile before moving on with her to the next room.
Third Room —
The room was… empty.
He and Maeve looked around to find evidence that Iris had been in the room, and that the maid had put her in her pajamas, but her robe and her slippers were missing, as well as the girl. Maeve huffed, placing her hands on her hips and turning to Keith with an exasperated look.
“I bet she’s on the training grounds, again.”
She wasn’t happy, for a good reason. Although Iris developed this habit only recently and had never gone farther than the training grounds — unlike two other little rascals — they couldn’t help but worry about her. Iris had way too much confidence and energy for someone so tiny, and they knew it could put her in trouble, something that definitely gave them a headache.
“She’s been getting a little too much into it, hasn’t she?” Keith asked Maeve with an apologetic tone as they rushed to track down their little girl.
“I wish she was into the discipline part of it as well,” his wife was starting to breathe in relief as they approached the training grounds and the sounds coming from there indicated what they expected.
Iris, in her pajamas and with a wooden sword in her little hands, was sparring with her big brother Helia. During the brief seconds between finding and interrupting them, Keith could see how fiercely the girl charged against the boy twice her size. Granted, Helia was most likely going easy on her. Iris had just started learning how to use a sword — a decision made not by himself or Maeve, but by him. She was younger than her brothers when they had started, but she had always been such an unstoppable force that he assured it was for the best for her to spend her energy in fighting rather than just studying and learning manners. Although it was unusual to have princesses joining in military training, there wasn’t anything official preventing them to. Keith and Maeve didn’t concern themselves with conforming to tradition anyway.
And Keith had to admit, Iris seemed so happy sparring that it warmed his heart and made him feel proud. But too soon him and Maeve had to intervene, and he knew the part each one would take.
Or the one he would not.
“Helianthus!” Maeve surprised the children by calling Helia by his full name. She would only do it when he was in trouble. Wooden swords dropped on the floor when the protective mother stormed in towards her children. “You’re her older brother, you’re supposed to be taking care of her!”
“But I am, mama! She was sneaking out to come here anyway. It’s better if I am with her, is it not?”
By the time the boy replied to Maeve, the other Keith had already surfaced, watching the little troublemaker start running around, yelling “I don’t wanna sleep! I don’t wanna sleep!”. He chuckled. He hadn’t switched because he didn’t want to deal with Iris, but because he knew he was better suited for it.
Each one of their children was unique, but he could also see something of the three of them blooming in their personalities. And Iris was the one who carried more of his heart within her. If Keith had had a chance to enjoy childhood, he could see himself being as free and full of life as she was. This is why what could be considered a challenge was delightful to him. He had fun chasing after the little one while Maeve was busy covering Helia with her cloak and chiding him over the risks of catching a cold. Then both his wife and his son would go inside, and in a more carefree manner, Keith would catch his daughter, throw her in the air, tickle her, and play tag again if it was needed to tire her out.
Because much like Aurora, Iris would only fall asleep when there was no energy left. But while Aurora’s mind was more alert, Iris was more physically active, and getting her to lie down in her bed to sleep was almost an impossible task. In the end, Keith would have to carry her to her room, wrapped snugly in his cape and curled up in his arms, deeply asleep.
Only then could he tuck her under her blankets and kiss her lids goodnight.
Fourth Room —
In the boy’s room, Maeve had already seen that Helia was in bed and with a warm mug of milk in his hands. Despite telling him off only a while ago, she was now caressing his soft hair like the doting mother she was while he drank his milk.
Being born the way he was, Keith had been free to avoid the King and only watch his demands and demeaning insults to his other self. He had never met his mother, and there weren’t good examples of a father around. When Maeve got pregnant for the first time, all he could do was promise to himself that he would be different — he couldn’t risk his children growing up believing themselves a failure. And it got even more important when they had Luna and Helia, twins to be looked down upon by the shitty nobles who still believed that nonsense about twins being bad luck.
In this, Keith ended up being too lenient with them, even more than he and Maeve could be, which ended up causing some problems. “They can’t always ask for fun dada whenever they do something wrong,” his wife told him one day. “Kids need space and encouragement to grow, but they need boundaries too; otherwise they’ll end up hurting themselves.”
And so he understood that being a father should be both fun and boring, at the right times.
“Everything alright there, buddy?” Keith sat on the edge of Helia’s bed and poked his nose playfully, making him giggle. “Did mama explain to you why you can’t train swords with Iris late at night?”
“Mama did, but…” Maeve pursed her lips when the boy said but. Sensing his mother’s disapproval, he leaned towards his father and proceeded more quietly, as if he could keep it a secret between both of them. “Dad, you know I can protect her if anything happens, don’t you?”
“Helia…” Keith understood him, with all his heart. He himself was born to protect, after all. This is why he meant every word when he said next, “I know ya can protect your siblings if you have to, but I don’t want ya to ever need it, especially not now. You’re a kid, shouldn’t be worrying about that.”
Maeve reached out to touch Keith’s hand. Only then he realized he had been tapping the edge of the bed lightly. There was a look in her eyes he was used to seeing when she dealt with him, not him. He turned his hand over hers and squeezed her fingers reassuringly.
Meanwhile, Helia, who couldn’t understand it, frowned.
“Only Aster is older than me! And Luna by some minutes, but it doesn’t matter…” he muttered in the last part. “I’m better than him with a sword, and he’s good with swords! And I always take care of him when we…”
“When ya both are out there sticking your noses where they don’t belong,” Keith finished the sentence for him and poked his nose again to make him stop frowning. “Gotta stop that, and gotta be a good role model for ya sister. I don’t wanna see any of you gettin’ trouble, gotcha?”
“Gotcha…” the boy echoed halfheartedly.
Some things take time to sink in, and Keith could only hope he would learn this lesson smoothly. Until then, he and Maeve would keep a closer eye on the three little rebels they had.
She took the empty cup when he finished his milk, and together they kissed their son goodnight.
Fifth Room —
The room was as peaceful as the girl who lived there. Luna was sitting by the window, a colorful picture book on her knees and a lantern by her side. Her green eyes lit up when she saw her parents by the door, and she immediately closed the book, set it aside, and blew out the candle in the lantern before rushing to meet them. Keith knew she had been eagerly awaiting their arrival, and had she been more outspoken, she would have complained about their delay.
But she was too sweet to say anything. Instead, she took Maeve’s hands and asked, perfectly politely, “Mama, would you braid my hair, please?”
“Why won’t ya ask me to braid your hair?” Keith asked with a playful tone before Maeve could reply to her. He knew his oldest daughter well; she was a reflective child, and he enjoyed teasing her with sudden questions to see her little face twist while trying to find an answer.
And without failing, the girl blinked in confusion a few times, trying to think of an answer to that question. The truth was, both Keiths had done her hair multiple times before, but for some reason she couldn’t quite understand — most likely sheer habit, or the memories of the fun girl’s slumber parties she attended with her mother — Luna always turned to Maeve first.
“Well, do you want your dad to braid your hair, sweetie?” Her mother asked with a smile. Keith could see that she was finding that little interaction funny.
Luna was still hesitating when she nodded in agreement. He clicked his tongue, crouching down to meet her eye level.
“Why don't we each do a braid, and then you can decide which one is better?” Keith suggested, and she paused again to consider.
“I don’t see why not,” she spoke like a true lady, graciously moving between them so she could take both Maeve’s hand and his, and walk with them to her dresser.
Luna sat down and her mother took the hairbrush, parting her long black hair in two so they could each work on one side. Keith still played with her hair a bit, messing it up to try to make her laugh. When he succeeded in amusing his shy and serious daughter, those cute little giggles were enough to warm up his heart. He could keep going just to make her laugh more, but it was late, and she was supposed to go to sleep soon.
“How was your day, flower? I heard you got a letter,” Maeve asked her when she caught her breath. That moment when she was relaxed and enjoying her parents’ company was the best time for conversation.
“Indeed! From godmama. She said Lianna remembers me, can you believe that? We haven’t seen them in two months!” Luna exclaimed joyfully.
“You’re like a big sister to her too, see?” Maeve said with a smile, reaching out for a pink ribbon to tie off her braid.
“There’ll be a goodwill ball in Rhodolite in a few weeks, so we can pay a visit to ya godmama, sweetie,” Keith decided to cheer her up even more, and the gleam in her eyes were better than her giggling.
“Can I write to her to tell we’re visiting?” Luna turned to her mother to ask her.
It was Keith’s turn to fetch a ribbon to tie off the braid he had done.
“Of course, dearest! Beatrice will be so happy to know,” Maeve leaned closer to see her reflection on the mirror, and Keith followed her. “But now tell us. Which braid is the best?”
“Mine, naturally! Isn’t it a perfect braid?” he said with a smug smile.
“I don’t know… Mama’s braid is more neat, but yours got style, papa!”
Keith chuckled. She was way too sweet.
With that matter settled, they tucked her in bed where she talked a bit more about her day before starting to yawn. It was time for their goodnight kiss, and Luna, being the affectionate child she was, returned the kiss on their cheeks every night.
“Papa…” she murmured drowsily. “I wanna give the other papa a kiss too.”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
He would do anything for her.
Sixth Room —
The room wasn’t as cozy as the previous ones, with too many candles lit as if the boy who lived there was still fully active, rather than getting ready to sleep. However, the truth was that Aster was deeply asleep, his head resting on open books as he sat by his desk in an uncomfortable position. He probably had dismissed his attendant earlier that night to study, but had eventually become so tired he dozed off while doing so.
Maeve silently brushed his curls away to reveal his closed lids and flushed face, confirming his slumber. She nodded at Keith, signaling that he could pick Aster up and place him in his bed.
His little boy was growing taller and heavier by the day, Keith thought as he carried him in his arms. Being his first child, he clearly remembered how it felt holding him right after he was born, when everything was new and made him so scared. He was so tiny that Keith felt safer holding him in his hands, where he fit better, rather than in his arms. Now he knew Aster would easily grow as tall as him in some years.
It was magical how a small and fragile sprout could grow to be a tall and strong tree. And Keith knew he would become really magnificent. Sure, he had his share in his parents’ headache when he joined Helia and Iris for some mischief, especially the former, when the boys’ need to explore took them too far into the woods, mobilizing searching parties just to find them. “If I am to be king, I need to know every inch of this land, papa,” he would try to explain himself. And studying how big Jade actually was never made him fret. There were no efforts he wouldn’t make to meet the expectations people had over the prince heir.
Keith placed him in his bed, and he and Maeve gently removed his shoes, belt, and vest to help him feel more comfortable through the night. As Keith tucked his son under the blankets, Aster stretched his body a bit, and his eyelids opened just slightly, revealing unfocused golden eyes that looked straight at him.
“Dad… Will you help me with politics?” His voice sounded distant, and his speech was groggy and slow. Aster wasn’t quite awake, but he echoed a request he likely had been thinking about before falling asleep. “It’s… So hard to get…”
Maeve, who was ceremoniously extinguishing the candles of his room, turned to stare at father and son with a worried look.
“Don’t worry, bud. We will study together in the morning. Now sleep tight.” Keith ruffled his hair softly and reassuringly. The boy didn’t answer, but he smiled before closing his eyes again.
“Isn’t his tutor pushing him too hard?” Maeve finally expressed her concerns in a quiet whisper, moving closer and taking Keith's arm. They watched their son sleeping together. “He’s just a kid.”
“He’s the future king of Jade, love,” he kissed her forehead and brought her a little closer. Even after all those years, he knew many things about the royal life were still new to her, or just hard to accept. “I’m ensuring that his tutor isn’t overwhelming him, and I’m assisting him in every way I can.”
Maeve sighed, but ultimately she smiled and nodded. She trusted Keith would always take the best care of their children, no matter their responsibilities as little princes and princesses. With time, he had learned to accept that he had done the best he could for Mireille and Tio — no matter how painful the memory still was to his heart. Now, he and his other self could do a lot better to nurture, protect, and work side by side with Maeve and their children as he intended to with his brother.
His family, for Keith, was a chance to start over. And together, they would ensure that the flowers of happiness were always blooming in Jade.
Seventh Room —
Every night felt like Heaven. After so much work, and so much love, Keith still could snuggle with his wife, laying his head against her breast and intertwining their legs together. He would never be able to describe that feeling. Maeve had become even warmer and softer over the years, so naturally it took a while for him to realize that all of that comfort he felt whenever they were alone in their bed, right before sleeping, emanated from her. And from the neverending love, support, and acceptance she gave him.
Keith closed his eyes and let himself dive into those delightful sensations. The flowery and herbal scents of her, mixed with the milky one on her skin, filled his mind so deeply he was sure it reached the forest in his head, and his other self was likely indulging in it too.
Maeve was his safe haven; the one who showed him what true love was in many of its shapes. She had taken them — him and his other self — as lovers, as husbands, as the fathers to her babies. She had changed her life to embrace the title of princess and of future queen out of her immense feelings towards them and their land, and she would always be the symbol of that eternal bond between Jade and the spirit of nature. The Goddess she served, he saw, felt, lived and loved in her. For there was no other word to define Maeve to him that wasn’t sacred.
“I love you…” Keith whispered against her skin, pressing their bodies together even further. He wished he could simply melt into her.
“I love you too…” She murmured so softly and earnestly in return that he felt like it could be possible.
They could melt and become one forever.
Or at least until next morning; when the sun would bring their children barging into their room and jumping on their beds so they could live it all again.
Happily, and full of love.
-
Tagging: @bicayaya @olivermorningstar @queengiuliettafirstlady
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Rock & Currents
Chevalier x OC (OC Chart: Esther)
Comfort
~900 words
Prompt: Pragma (Enduring Love)
My entry for my and @violettduchess 's Shapes of Love CC ! >:)
This work deals with the topic of illness.
Content Warnings: none
The bed creaks as Esther enters it, covers parting for her to slide underneath them and soothe the goosebumps that have emerged over her legs. Quietly, she reaches for her knitting needles, what would amount to a fraction of a sweater hanging from their lacquered lengths. Knit-purl, knit-purl, knit-purl, she progresses through the row at a steady pace. Practised hands need no instructions to work – it is purely habitual, just as is passing from the last stitch and onto a new one.
The bed creaks as Esther enters it, covers parting for her to slide underneath them and soothe the goosebumps that have emerged over her legs. Quietly, she reaches for her knitting needles, what would amount to a fraction of a sweater hanging from their lacquered lengths. Knit-purl, knit-purl, knit-purl, she progresses through the row at a steady pace. Practised hands need no instructions to work – it is purely habitual, just as is passing from the last stitch and onto a new one.
… purl-knit, purl-knit, purl-knit…
… knit-purl, knit-purl…
… knit-purl…
Chevalier pauses his reading as Esther gets up, discarded handiwork landing in the middle of the bed.
“I’m fine!” she assures, already half in another room. The bathroom door closes behind her – and he doesn’t question the statement, although he could. Instead, he shuts his book. Chevalier reaches for her work, pushes the stitches back, stabs the needles through the skein. He, quite pointlessly, glances at her side of the bed. The pages reopen themselves, to his half-stolen attention and the sound of running water.
The bed creaks as Esther enters it again; however, the covers need not part for her. Visibly paler, she picks up her needles, albeit just to place the project into a large wicker basket, where it fits with other skeins. Her hands seem stiffer now, but that too is fine. Esther needs little dexterity to read, so read she does, voracious when presented with another – allegedly unsolvable – mystery. Paper rustles, once on the left and once on the right side of the bed. Perhaps one could call it a race? But races they do not engage in, not when —
Chevalier pauses his reading as Esther gets up, just barely catching a glimpse of what page she has been forced to leave to itself. The volume too is abandoned, sharp corners of the cover pricking the duvet.
No reassurances come this time. The bathroom door shuts, the frame trembling in the wall. Chevalier sighs, his predictions acquiring a more solid form. He attempts to immerse himself in the universe at his fingertips, but… he cannot. His mind drifts to different places, most of which he’d rather not name, most definitely not aloud. Chevalier glances in the direction of the much dreaded – although perfectly innocent and undeniably useful – room. It is quiet, for the better or for the worse, or for the both. He pinches the bridge of his nose, switches out the books. It is not to his taste, yet he reads on regardless.
The bed creaks as Esther enters it. Again. She lays on her side, or rather falls onto it, dejected and deflated. She curls over herself, hugs her stomach, draws her knees to her chest; her frame is rigid, cold from tension and approaching the point of shivering. The duvet falls over her, however, covering her up to her very nose. Esther shifts under it.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, her back turned towards Chevalier, voice dyed with foreign lilt.
“How bad does it hurt?” Not if, not where. Just how bad, with an unspoken truly, although she hasn’t been trying to deceive him.
“A little.” A lot.
Pages turn. “And the medicine?”
“I’ve already taken as much as I could.”
Chevalier cannot disagree nor can he offer any alternative. His lips purse as he focuses to read faster, sentences scurrying from in front of his eyes. It isn’t long before he reaches the desired chapter, numbers marking the corners of the pages transforming in the flickering candle light.
“‘If you mean that I was fond of her’ ?” Chevalier quotes at last, although Esther doesn’t seem to initially realise what his inquiry may be about. “‘If you mean that I was fond of her—yes, I was.’” he clarifies.
“I — Yes.”
Chevalier’s voice is steady, not to call it simply monotonous; he is not particularly theatric when in the role of any of the characters and neither is he interested in the topic of the novel. However, he reads, and she listens so very intently, as if his poor performance itself could be the source of some higher form of pleasure. Esther shifts in her place, seeking his closeness… Yet despite being constrained by light, Chevalier stops her. His hand falls atop her hip. Without a word, Esther fidgets some more to finally twine her fingers with his.
The bed creaks as Chevalier sets the book on the table beside it. His sword lies forgotten – it is a snuffer he now wields, ruthlessly disposing of any wax-born light. A thin trail of smoke lifts from the wick, one last flame disturbing the velvet darkness of the night. Chevalier scoots towards the middle of the bed, as careful as a mouse sneaking by a resting ferret, and props himself on his elbow. All he needs to do is to outstretch his arm. However, he stalls, cautiously and curiously studious in examining her face. Esther sleeps, peacefully so, with her lips slightly parted and her chest raising evenly. Not a crease furrows her brow, not a groan trembles in her throat… The light is gone.
Chevalier hides the snuffer away, brass clinking against wood. He lays down, makes himself comfortable, closes his eyes… Moves again, to hold her at least until she needs to get up again.
You've seen a typo? Let me know!
Tag List: @lancelotscloak @violettduchess @pathogenic @fang-and-feather @tele86 @rinaririr @keithsandwich @cheese-ception @bis-enti @claviscollections @queengiuliettafirstlady @sh0jun @lucyw260
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#shapesoflovecc#chevalier michel#ikepri chevalier#ikemen prince chevalier#ikepri#ikemen prince#ikemen series#ikepri oc#ikemen prince oc#ikepri esther
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Nostra Unica Famiglia
Ikemen Vampire - Leonardo & Pureblood! Reader
(background Charles x Reader)
Written for Fluffbruary from @fluffbruary Day 13 Prompt: Choice and the Shapes of Love Creation Challenge by @violettduchess and @lorei-writes Prompt: Storge (Familial Love)
Words: 687
Summary: You thought Leonardo would be mad about your relationship with Charles, but when you finally talks to him, you're in for a surprise
IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / AO3 Link
You found Leonardo smoking on the balcony. Nothing new, but this time you felt apprehensive of approaching.
The Christmas party went well. Or so you thought. But now that the party is over and Charles has gone home, you feel like all the masks will come off, and you are afraid of what lies underneath. You still brace yourself and call out.
“Uncle?”
“Ciao cara. Why are you still awake?”
“I drank a little too much to sleep.” Not a lie. You did drink a little more than you’d ever had. You weren’t drunk, but still a little buzzed.
“It doesn't seem like it did you any good, Piccolina. You don’t look too cheerful.”
“I’m not that little!” You never could help complaining when he treated you as a child.
But this time, your answer did not lead to the usual banter. Instead, he turns to you with a smile that looks strangely sad, puts out his cigarillo, and ruffles your hair gently.
“I know. You have never been. Not even when I met you. But you are young, and I know how the famiglia is. Rebellion can be tempting, but it can lead to hastily made, poor decisions you might regret later.”
“Is this about Charles?” You knew he would talk about it, but any preparation you had made beforehand seemed to escape your mind when you finally needed it.
Leonardo turns back to look at the starry sky, and you walk to stand beside him, doing the same.
“You’re old enough to make your own choices, and I don’t doubt you when you say he is a good person. But the others he’s with mean trouble, and he chose to follow them. He chose his own path, and I’m afraid you’ll end up caught in it."
He was right. Vlad is a weird pureblood, who wasn’t too satisfied with your relationship with Charles either. Comte had promised to tell you about his relationship with Vlad later, but had said they were friends who had a fallout because of Vlad’s ideals.
But you also had a good feeling about the interactions you had with them while trying to build this relationship with Charles.
Not an easy or short task. You had a lot of time.
You were about to tell him that, when he started to speak again, turning to smile at you.
“But I saw you today, and this relationship sure seems real. You are young, but I trust your judgment. Just be careful, and know you can come to me if anything happens, okay?”
You were not expecting such support. Such trust. Your relationship as a family barely had a year, either. It had been fine, but you often had this impression Leonardo saw you as a little child. How long had you longed for a little of that love? How lucky you were to end up in this time and place, as strange of a coincidence as it was? Fighting back tears, you hug Leonardo.
“Thank you for trusting me, uncle. You are the only famiglia I currently have, of course you are the one I will turn to if I turn out to be wrong. But I am confident in my choice.”
Hands on your shoulders, Leonardo gently puts some distance between you.
“I know. You sure don’t need it, but you have my blessing.” He leans down to kiss your forehead. “And I hope whatever choices you make from now on will make you happy. Not make you regret it.”
You only hug him back. You know it’s hard for him to say that, but he chose to trust and believe you, like no one in your family ever did. And you know it’s because supporting you is important for him too, who never had a true family either. He chose to be that family to you. It wasn’t just a coincidence that you met; it was fate. Who said destined bonds were only for romantic partners?
That doesn't mean your boyfriend will escape without a talking to, not only from your uncle, but it's already more support than you expected.
Tag List: @tele86, @nightghoul381, @natimiles, @bicayaya, @eventinelysplayground, @queengiuliettafirstlady
If you want to be tagged/untagged on future writings, you can reply to this post or send me a message
IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist
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This is my entry for @violettduchess and @lorei-writes shapes of love challenge. I actually wanted to write something like this a long time ago but couldn't pull it together then this challenge brought it back to mind. I also then saw a mood board with Yours (linked) on it that @lichtluv did and that song just let me take off running with it. This story goes under the prompts Storge (familial) and Mania (obsessive) love. Rio is having a hard time dealing with his feelings again after some news. Angst and some fluff, mentions of drinking WC approx 1564.
Why
The tavern was loud and boisterous tonight, almost too much so for Rio's liking but their alcohol was top notch and that was his primary goal. He wanted to drink so much he'd be numb, so much he might forget for a while.
When he had arrived he found the quietest darkest spot he could and ordered a bottle of gin. The first three bottles had disappeared fairly quickly and the fourth was close to joining them and yet he still wasn't anywhere near numb, was still thinking about Emma. About how despite everything he still wanted her.
How does it still hurt this much? I know it was my idea for her to marry my idiot brother but…if I could go back I'd beat myself up for being so stupid!
“Hey you wanna hear somethin?”
“Hear what?”
“Her Majesty is with child!”
“What!? Where did you hear that from? I ain't heard no announcement or nothin.”
“Keep your voice down! When his Majesty visited the shipyard yesterday I overheard him talkin to some of the guys and he mentioned it without thinkin. Threatened em all to keep their mouths shut for now if they knew what was good for em.”
“Well damn! We can look forward to a few days…”
Rio sighed at the men's words before downing the last of his glass finishing off the fourth bottle. He waved down a nearby barmaid and ordered two more bottles despite her protests of him having had a lot already.
That was the last thing I wanted to hear about tonight and this is nowhere near enough alcohol. Stupid Silvio and his big mouth, bet he let it slip on purpose. He had such a cocky, arrogant smile on his face when he heard that Emma had told me. Why the hell did that jangler have to go after her, he could have had any woman he wanted, why did he have to want Emma…
Just then the barmaid arrived with another large bottle of gin. Rio glared at her, his normally sky blue eyes turned as deep as the ocean with pain and uncharacteristic anger.
“I said two bottles.”
Rio's voice came out in a harsh growl and the barmaid flinched.
“I'm sorry I'll get the other one right away.”
Rio didn't even bother with his glass this time and lifted the bottle to his mouth taking a huge swig when he felt a hand grab his shoulder and squeeze tightly.
“Right, that's enough for you.”
“Get lost you dumb jangler!”
“What did you just say to me!?”
Silvio wrapped an arm around Rio's neck and hauled him to his feet.
“Oww let me go!”
“Not a chance.”
Rio struggled against Silvio's grip on him as he led him towards the door but his brother was always physically stronger than he was.
Just great as if I hadn't had enough today…
Rio saw Silvio nod at the barkeep quickly before leading him out the door and into the streets. The cool night air felt like a slap in the face to Rio and he cursed under his breath.
“Quit whining ya mutt.”
Silvio loosened his grip a bit on Rio's neck and he took advantage of it to push his brother off him.
“What the hell are you doing here Silvio? Actually I don't care, just get out of my sight!”
“You'd have to be able to see me first.”
Rio glared at his brother, his eyes filled with hatred.
“I wish you'd never gone to Rhodolite then I wouldn't have to see your stupid face every day!”
Silvio sighed and grabbed Rio by the collar dragging him into an alleyway. Before Rio knew it Silvio was dunking his head into a barrel of water, he flailed his arms for a minute before his head was pulled back out of the barrel.
“What the fuck Silvio!? What are you-”
Rio's words were cut off when his head was once again dunked into the barrel but this time he felt Silvio giving his head an extra shove. His head surfaced and he gasped and coughed turning around to face his brother once he had released him. He had wanted to hit him, to scream at him but the chilly water and cold air was doing the trick and instead he just sank to the ground leaning back against the bricks. He brought his knees up resting his arms on them and he looked up at Silvio but this time instead of anger it was pain in his eyes.
“Why couldn't it have been me? I loved her for years and she never loved me back. She knew you less than a month before she fell madly in love with you, why wasn't I enough for her?”
Rio placed his forehead on his arms, he didn't want to give Silvio the satisfaction of seeing him cry again. He didn't want to hear the speech he knew was coming, he just wanted to block it all out. Silence fell for a while and then he sensed Silvio sit down beside him, he turned to look at his brother but he was just sitting there staring at the opposite wall. It wasn't often his older brother was in a listening mood, not to him anyways and Rio seized the opportunity.
“I used to picture my life with her, you know? Her falling in love with me, getting married, having lots of kids, even growing old together.”
Rio saw Silvio's jaw tense out of the corner of his eye.
“I knew she wasn't in love with me but I thought it was just a matter of time. She may not have been mine but I was definitely hers and I couldn't wait for her to realize she was meant for me, for her to have that look in her eyes. Then when I finally got to see that look I yearned to see in her eyes she wasn't looking at me, she was looking at you and it wasn't fair. I really did think you'd just play around with her and use her before breaking her heart and I was ready for that, ready to pick up the pieces but I should have known better. You might be an ass but deep down you aren't a bad guy Silvio… I guess this is what I get for never caring about anything or anyone for all those years isn't it?"
“Valerio…”
“Oh come on, I know you thought it at some point too. I wanted so badly to be able to change her mind but when I couldn't I tried to be happy for her, for both of you. I made it through your engagement and the wedding but I couldn't push through it this time. Why can't I move on from this, from her?”
“I don't know, but I'm sure somebody else will come along eventually. You always had women flocking around you at parties and stuff.”
“Ya but I never wanted any of them. I wanted Emma. I still want her but you had to come along and mess everything up and you get to have everything I dreamed about for years.Why did you have to fall in love with her?”
Rio shifted and turned to look at his brother and he was stunned, Silvio had an expression on his face he'd never seen before. The closest he could come to describing it was guilt and anguish but that wasn't quite it and it made his own heart ache for him. Silvio turned to face Rio and the brothers just stared at each other for a long time.
“I'll never apologize Valerio, it wouldn't be right to but… I promised myself I'd spend my life protecting and cherishing the woman you love. I'll make sure she's always happy and never regrets a thing.”
Rio may have been angry at Silvio but the truth was he knew his brother already did all those things and more, she was always smiling and happy.
“I know, as much as it still annoys me she fell in love with you just as much as you fell in love with her. The choice was always hers to make and it just wasn't me. I know you'll do everything and anything for her, you already do. Thank you for that Silvio.”
“You're thanking me now? Wait...are you still too drunk?”
Silvio reached out to grab Rio's head but he ducked away just in time.
“No! I'm fine, geez you were finally acting like a decent big brot-”
Rio stopped talking when he felt his brother pulling him in towards him and rustling his hair. None of them were ever very good at talking about their feelings. Silvio had always been the worst at it though so these simple gestures spoke volumes.
“Come on, let's get you home and in bed.”
Silvio stood first and extended a hand to Rio who took it and pulled himself upright. The two started walking out of the alleyway when Silvio suddenly stopped.
“What?”
Silvio turned around to face Rio and grabbed him by the ear .
“Ow ow ow!”
“If you tell anybody about what happened here tonight I'll take you out to sea and toss you in the middle of the ocean.”
“Ow Alright! I won't say a thing, now let go already you dumb jangler!”
#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikemen prince rio#ikepri rio#ikemen prince silvio#ikepri silvio#rio ortiz#silvio ricci#Shapesoflovecc
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Portrait of a Gentleman Through the looking glass
Portrait of a gentleman Through the looking glass
Fandom: Ikemen Prince
Pairing: Clavis x MC
Prompt : Ludus & Pragma
Part of : Shapes of Love Creation Challenge hosted by @violettduchess and @lorei-writes
Tag: Hurt Comfort Disguise Insecurity Reassurance Angst Fluff
Word Count : 3.415
Author’s Note: Mirrors can show a lie and reflect the truth at the same time, of facade and reality twisted and twirled so strongly to melt in one to any untrained gaze
But any mask will show, sooner or later, cracks so little to left people wondering were the real truth is ?
It is the bright confidence or the rare moment of vulnerability of an heart wounded too deeply to be concealed any longer ?
The truth is in the middle and she has all intention to see it for herself, accept him as no one else ever did, showing him a world where the things he believed impossible are indeed possible.
A world where she won't shy away from loving him unconditionally.
offering bliss to an afternoon filled with memories and insecurities resurfacing to inflict anguish over his battered and bruised heart.
The same she won't shy away from healing with her words, revealing the truth of what he is for her, revealing the truth of the undeniable, playful, deep, bond they share together linked by the red string of love. 🥰
Tag list
@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @aquagirl1978 @violettduchess @atelieredux @klutzyroses @randonauticrap @thewitchofbooks @princess-pray-a @judejazza
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 😊
There was a mirror in every bedroom of the palace, this was far from being a secret, everyone had a different relation with it and the images it reflected, emblems of how appearances are often crafted to be a mask, to hide and protect what was inside and what should remain concealed to prying eyes … and I was no exception.
Flashback
“Who do you see ?”
The first question she asked me when she dragged me next to her in front of the mirror echoed in my mind.
I was so hesitant to show her my room, but she was way too curious to see it, and truth to be told I am so weak for her puppy eyes I, reluctantly, decided to open myself a bit more, only with her though.
As predicted she didn’t judge anything about the room furniture, like the total absence of a bed, or about me … and yet I couldn’t help but feel a prickle of annoyance at the meticulous attention she was paying to the looking glass instead of me.
It’s not like I didn’t wish for her to explore my room to her liking … but honestly the mirror is, in my humble opinion, the least attractive furniture of them all.
I chuckle to myself, hiding the bitter reason for my statement behind a carefully crafted smile as nothing of what I think and feel shall be revealed on the surface.
It took me ages to accomplish it, but my effort paid off since I managed to fool everyone.
But not her.
She really was special to have seen through it, and nowadays, I still can’t say in all honesty if I am happy or not of that skill of hers.
Present
I sigh heavily, throwing my cape and gloves on the armchair, slumping ungracefully on the sofa.
It was a long and tiring day and, even though I would gladly doze off, I can't because work has not finished for me yet.
Moreover, my mind had the worst timing with making that memory resurface, as if I was not already in a bad mood.
-Who do you see ?
Indeed, what a naive question this is, I chuckle trailing lazily my gaze on the looking glass, standing in a corner of the room where he always was.
Dull and useless like me.
-The best prince in the Kingdom, a handsome gentleman loved by all, a true trickster who always finds a way to spice things up with a brilliant mind that can rival everyone.
I answer the question myself, all the while my heart beats painfully in my chest at the effort this show off is taking me this time, unusually so.
The ever present smile on my lips felt tighter, I noticed it from the way my cheeks ached, but
there is no one around to fool, I have no need for it any more, and so I let it fall
In a haste I undo my jacket and neck tie, whose suffocating feelings it’s beginning to get on my nerves.
I sigh heavily, leaning against the soft cushions, my gaze falling on a weirdly sewn plush next to my leg.
A bitterness not stranger to me invades my heart as I pick it up.
She said she loved it so much more than any normal one … and yet I couldn’t manage to feel completely happy with it.
The crooked smile on it makes my heart waver as tears swell in my eyes, rolling softly down my cheeks.
I ignore the trembling of my arms as I squeeze it gently against my chest, suffocating my sobs in its soft pink fur caressing what should have been its face, with trembling fingers, clutching it as I let its sweet scent invade my nostrils.
A heavy, shaking sigh escapes my lips as I lower the plus, holding it close to my heart.
I stayed there catching my breath when a glimpse of light caught my attention, flickering on the looking glass eliciting me to follow it.
-Who do you see ?
It’s tone demanding and authoritative, not admitting a shallow reply of sort nor accepting to remain answerless.
And so I do, I let my bleeding heart answer this one while my mind whispers in my head that all I am saying now it’s true and nothing will ever change that.
-A mediocre fool, the pathetic shadow of a genius, a silly and dumb bother no one wants to deal with, a messy prince and nothing more.
At that moment I heard the door cracking open, panic settled in my heart.
The options are either her or Cyran, and right now it’s not the ideal moment for either.
Noiselessly I dry my face on my sleeves, hoping, perhaps in vain, to conceal my reddened eyes and puffy cheeks even though I know both of them will see through it because, for as much as I feel to be undeserving of, they care about me.
From my hiding spot, behind my armchair, I spy on the intruder coming dangerously closer, I hold my breath hoping to not be spotted … but in vain.
“Here you are.” I slide away from my spot, standing up to greet her.
I try to play it as a joke, but my voice sounds so feeble even to my ears, pathetically so.
“Ahahah did you miss me so much my darling?”
“Of course. I checked the whole castle to find you.”
A troubled sensation began to prickle its way to my heart.
I didn’t deserve such attention, I am not worthy of it … and yet it warmed my heart knowing to be so truly loved.
“I missed you too.” My heartfelt confession, that sounded so needy to my ears, seem to please her, strangely so, while a smile so bright to outshine the sun curl her rosy lips.
“You could have picked me up any time, you know that ?”
“I think Sariel would be even stricter with you if I did.”
“Then let him be, after all there will be nothing I would rather do than to be with you when you need me.”
Her words left me speechless, she must have picked up on my mood, but ever thoughtful, she didn’t comment on it.
She really is way too sweet and kind for me, and yet there is no one I will let steal her away from me.
Mindless I lost myself in her hug, tightening my arms around her form, leaning my forehead on her shoulder inhaling her sweet scent, balm on every scar of my battered and bruised heart.
In an instant, before I could register where we were going, she led me in front of the mirror.
The same that tormented me since I entered the room.
I really wish to protest … in my own way, but the mischievous glimmer in her eyes told me she has a plan of her own, one I am awfully curious to discover.
“Who do you see ?”
I am about to answer her question, but she cut me short.
“Tell me my wonderful prince, my kind lover, my affectionate gentleman, my astounding genius. Who do you see ?”
Her words hit home, warming me to the core, over flooding my heart with all the love I have only for her.
Gently I wrap my arms around her, pulling her in for a hug she didn’t shy away to reciprocate.
Reluctantly I slide away, mustering all my courage to turn to look at the once so loathed, looking glass.
I gaze at my reflection in the mirror, and for once I see someone I am proud of.
I greet him with a smile, maybe a bit more crooked but honest and what is taken away from perfection, it is made up in brightness as I stare at our reflection side by side in that shiny golden frame like a portrait I would never get tired of admiring.
It would be impossible and beyond foolish trying to hide the affection swelling in my eyes as I tighten my arm around her waist, feeling her soft purr of delight as she nuzzles into my chest, leaving a tender kiss on my heart, racing wildly only for her, affection I do my best to convey leaving a kiss of my own on her soft curls, gawking in awe at the soft smile curling her lips brightening up her already gorgeous features.
My voice is laced with emotions as I give her the answer she is yearning to hear.
“Me.”
Her warm sweet voice caressing my skin, melting me to the core, leaving me astounded from the love she is showering me in.
I really don’t know what to do with myself, in a daze I grasp her hand as an anchor amidst the waves of emotions washing over me, keeping it close to my heart.
The gentle touch of her fingers trailing softly on my half unbuttoned shirt sensually sliding to brush over my chest are driving me crazy, but I didn’t mind.
Shamelessly I give in to her desire, indulging in the delicious sensation of my heart racing widely in my chest as she continues to praise me with words sweeter than honey pouring over each crack in my heart, healing it as my scars become but a distant memory.
“The most wonderful man I have ever met.”
My voice becomes hoarse with all the affection overflowing in me, and yet only now I manage to find enough courage to show everything of me to her exactly as I am, paying no mind to the way my hand trembles around hers, smiling as I feel her delicate fingers squeezing it softly.
“The one you successfully stole the heart from.”
I raise her hand in mine brushing my lips on her knuckles in a gallant kiss revelling in the way she giggled at my touch, meeting her bright earnest eyes as she looked up at me
“The one and only one who has stolen mine, but I don't mind, and you ?”
“Not at all.” I smile, brushing my nose with hers, admiring the unbounded happiness shine in her gaze mirror of my own.
“You are bright like a star, I know you can outshine everyone else, so now come here my precious boy and let me bask in your light. You are the true genius, the only one in my eyes.”
Her voice sweet temptation fanning warm on my lips as she gazed straight into my eyes.
“You are the only one my heart desires.”
Unable to wait any longer standing still I melt my lips on hers, hoping to convey all the love and devotion I have for her deep sealed in my heart, savouring every inch of her lips, ravaging her mouth groaning in delight at feeling her eagerly returning my kiss, swallowing her moans as I entwine my tongue with hers.
Gently holding her against me gently curling my fingers on her hips, sighing dreamily at her delicate fingers clutching tightly my shirt, in a vain attempt to stray herself among the unbounded passion enrapturing us in its spires.
Reluctantly, we pulled away, laughing like fools as we looked into each other's eyes, glimmering with happiness with carefree smiles on our lips.
I lean my forehead to hers, wrapping my arm around her as I cup her face in my hand, brushing softly my thumb over her rosy cheeks, gazing in her eyes I lost track of time, but before I could do lose myself too I am at least able to offer her a heartfelt confession of my feelings.
“I love you from the bottom of my heart, my bunny.”
Her delicate fingers, soft like feathers as they brushed over my swollen lips, tracing my smile at her lovely words.
“I love you to madness, my leopard.”
At the sound of a suffused music swirling in the room from the open window a soft smile curl her lips and in an instant I am pulled in an improvised dance, the sweet notes of the piano guiding our waltz around the room, my eyes mirroring the tender affection swirled in that colourful gemstone her eyes were as her soft locks billow around her pretty visage.
In a crescendo of emotions, we reach the sublime height of unconditional love in tune with the climax of that ethereal music that envelops us in our own little world.
“If only you saw through my eyes you would see what you are to me. ” Her words filled my heart with affection, brushing away all my demons.
“I see it, now you are here with me.” I murmur softly, returning the tender smile she offers me as she looks up at me, reaching to brush her soft fingers on my cheek the same I lean in her hand, smiling at the tenderness of her caress.
I never believed the day would have come when I would have let myself be vulnerable but here we are, my barrier crumbled in ruins scattered all over, while the sun of her acceptance shone brighter than ever straight to my heart beating only for her, my one and only love that broke the lock of my chains setting me free.
“You are a great prince, the best for me. The only one I would never get tired of singing the praise of.”
“Dearie me, this could be a problem. If you begin this challenge, I think I shall begin to gush over you even more everywhere we go.”
“Hahaha. You already do Clavis, a bit more and Sariel will throw the both of us out of the palace.”
“Well, It’s not such a bad fate if we are in it together. What do you think of it, my lovely accomplice ?”
“ I will go to the end of the world with you.”
“You really do know how to make me crazy about you, don’t you ?”
A dreamy sigh escape that sweet lips of hers who never fail to make me smile, as I entwine my fingers with hers basking in the radiance of her smile as she gazed up at me with her gorgeous eyes so full of affection coaxing me to give in to her love …. and so I do.
“I think the same way, my adorable little bunny.” I playfully tap my digit on the tip of her nose, eliciting tingling giggles from her soft lips.
“After all, remember that I have a Kingdom of my own where we could escape.”
“It sounds so romantic … but I bet it would be even better if someone, let’s say the King himself, would change all the locks without giving anyone else the keys.”
“Are you suggesting what I think you are ?”
A gaze at her malicious smirk coupled with the sensual allure shining in her eyes enraptured me, eliciting me to satisfy her desire, as if I could ever be capable of breaking off from the spell she put on me.
“What a delightful idea my love, indeed I have to admit you are more naughty than you seem.” I brush my fingers sultrily on her lips, seeing a glimmer of lust in her gorgeous gaze, stifling a groan at the playful bite of her teeth on my digit, warmed by her breath.
“I can’t possibly refuse such a tempting offer, can I ? A vacation to spend locked in our palace really does seem like a dream come true.”
With a soft dreamy sigh I feel her nuzzling in my chest, while her fingers begin to play with my buttons sliding them off from their holes, before rubbing her cheek on my skin, peppering little soft kisses on it, making me giggles at her impromptu tickles.
“I can’t wait.”
By the time we finished dancing the sun had already set, normally I would have proceeded to spend part of the night working on my duty … but for her, I will do an exception.
Since she asked me nicely to take care of myself, and get enough sleep, I started to do my best to follow her advice, after all I would never do something, purposefully, to upset her.
The idea of seeing her unhappy makes my blood run cold, freezing with the fear she will give up on me for someone better … like Chevalier.
The mere image of my lover together with him troubles me deeply.
I shook my head to brush away such thoughts, leaning to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling at the sight of that bashful smile curling her lips as a light rosy blush spread on her soft cheeks, I offer her a carefree smile as we resume laughing and chatting like old time friends under the soft warm covers of her bed.
Furthermore, I mentally sign myself a note to buy a comfortable bed before she moves in with me, big enough to room two persons because, in all honesty, I can’t have her sleep on the couch and neither can I deprive myself of the pleasure of drifting asleep next to her and wake up each morning staring at her gorgeous face.
I see her stifling a yawn as she shifts closer to me, looking straight into my eyes like she is ready for some big revelation.
“You need to sleep too.” I can’t help but stifle a giggle at the seriousness in her expression, for real I was expecting something else, but evidently this matter is important enough for her to be ready to give me a lecture if I didn’t listen, and obeyed her.
The thought she cares about me so much makes me feel all fuzzy and warm inside, melting me to the core.
Instinctively, I wrap my arms a bit tighter around her little frame, smiling fondly as she cocooned better in my hug.
“I would far prefer looking at my gorgeous lover all night long.”
I would never admit it to her, but she really is too adorable, in everything she did, even when she pouts at me like that.
“Ahahah dearie me, I see my wonderful fiancée is not thrilled by the idea.”
“Not even one bit.”
I almost gave up fighting sleep when I heard her slurred voice murmur.
“I feel lonely when you don’t hug me.”
Seriously exactly when I think I am already head over heels for her, she found a way to prove me wrong, at this rate I couldn’t go anywhere without her, and I am sure like she wouldn’t complain about it.
I really underestimate the power my little enchantress had on me.
“Don’t worry, my princess, your prince is here to warm you up, so … you won’t feel lonely any more.”
With utmost care, I lean my lips reverently on her hair in a tender kiss, conveying in the light brush of my fingers on her cheeks all the love and devotion I feel for her.
My little bunny rabbit, my prank-partner, my lovely fiancée, my princess, my Queen.
In one word, the love of my life.
The only one I would devote my entire life to love.
The only one I would have done everything to see her smile
The only one I would have crafted any prank to see laugh ever so mirthfully.
The only one I would have spared no effort to make the happiest girl that there ever was.
In one word, my only one.
Unaware of the hour I stand there bathing in my love soaked bliss, admiring her gorgeous features shine as an ever graceful smile curls her soft lips, strangely so I can’t bear to stay away from her for even a moment.
It really is incredible the effects she has on me, it could be an interesting subject of study.
My coherent thoughts scatter to the four winds as I wrap my arms around her, leaning to leave a gentle kiss on her forehead, ready to join her in our dreamland.
“Good night, my princess.”
“Good night my leopard.”
Our tale would have continued on, those of a leopard that fell in love with a bunny, to show no matter the appearance lovers destined to be will always find a way to get together, to craft a story worthy to be in a book, only our to be written with the magic power of love.
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Superior Vena Cava
My entry for @violettduchess and @lorei-writes's Shapes of Love Creation Challenge. I made it in time! I'm not fully proud of it and I definitely need to work on writing from Clavis' pov, but I'm glad I could put something up.
Here's a short summary of the oc in question. This is Clavis' ring, and this is Lisette's (just imagine it with a lisianthus design and red outer band instead lol). Finally, these are the inspiration for the gloves Clavis mentions, except designed for combat instead lol. Sorry for all the links.
Relationship: Clavis x Lisette (OC)
Prompt: Mania (obsessive love), with a tiny hint of Pragma (enduring love)
Word count: 4.6k
Lisette was being weird. They were finally moving forward with plans for their engagement, and she hadn’t made a single complaint about becoming royalty, or being given a title, or any of the concerns she brought up when they first got together. No, instead she was actively participating in organizing their engagement party, having already picked out her outfit, somehow managing to keep it a secret from him. Even now, they were on their way to meet with a jeweler to design their rings, and there were no comments about having to wear jewelry every day or the like.
Clavis was starting to get worried. Lisette was being way too accommodating for this big to-do that went completely against her background. She should be groaning about nobles calling her a princess or having to wear a fancy, frilly outfit (unless she chose pants. Lisette in an expensive suit with tight-fitting trousers? Yes please). Her cool, easy acquiescence was suspicious. Where was the eye rolling, the disgusted grunts, the faux annoyed side eyes displaying her displeasure? Was this a sign of something?
Was she having regrets?
Surely not. Lisette wasn’t the type to keep quiet about something like that. But what if? Why else was she acting so . . . different?
There was no time to prod her about it, because they’d entered the meeting room where the jeweler was waiting for them. Clavis and Lisette took care of introductions and small talk, Clavis keeping an ear out to hear if Lisette sounded off while speaking. But she was being her usual self: polite but not the distant, multifaceted noble polite and unwilling to put on a facade of aristocracy just for the sake of it. So Clavis could rule out Lisette trying to force herself into a role she didn’t fit in as the reason for her recent behavior. That was . . . good, truly, because Clavis loved Lisette for who she was, not because she played the part of the perfect noble. But it did start to limit possibilities, and the ones left were not nearly as encouraging.
Clavis listened half-heartedly to the jeweler as he described the types of material used in wedding rings and the meanings behind stones and their colours. Instead, he focused most of his attention on studying Lisette’s face as she in turn studied the rings. Unfortunately, she gave none of her thoughts away, expression remaining unchanged as she scanned the wares. Only her eyes occasionally gave her away, narrowing slightly at certain rings and quickly flitting away from others. That was . . . less good. Lisette had a great stone-faced countenance when she needed to use it, but she was often so open with her expressions, never hiding anything she was feeling unless it served her purpose to do so. So why was she so closed off right now? Did none of the rings strike her fancy? Or was it something else that was the issue?
Too caught up in his intrusive thoughts, Clavis almost missed when Lisette asked the jeweler, “What’s the strongest metal used to make a ring?” Huh. So she was at least invested enough to inquire about what she wants. Not hard to guess why Lisette would want a ring made out of strong metal.
“Well, if you’re looking for the strongest, that would be tungsten,” the jeweler answered, “However, that makes it impossible to resize should the need arise, and surprisingly, it can be quite susceptible to chipping or breaking.” Lisette hummed in displeasure, the corner of her mouth turning down, and Clavis silently breathed out in relief. Maybe she was just trying to be respectful of the jeweler and his merchandise, and that was why she was being less expressive. No need to jump to conclusions yet, Clavis reminded himself.
The jeweler, noticing Lisette wasn’t impressed with his response, hurriedly added, picking up men’s rings as examples, “Thankfully, we have many other strong metals on offer. There’s also titanium, which is lightweight and comfortable to wear, although it too can be difficult to resize. Stainless steel is a popular choice nowadays, very similar to titanium. And recently, ceramic has been used to make rings, although I’ve heard that it can be brittle like tungsten.”
“Hmmm,” Lisette murmured in thought. She held out her hands for the wedding bands, which the jeweler handed over with a look of confusion. Wait, was she asking for Clavis? But why would he need a sturdy ring? “The brittle ones won’t work for me at all. Shame-it would have been cool to have a ring made out of the strongest metal possible. It’ll have to be between stainless steel and titanium, then. Resizing shouldn’t be an issue because we can just reorder the rings if needed.” Oh. It was for her after all. Lisette picked through the handful of rings the jeweler gave her with a critical eye, running her thumb along the bands. She glanced at Clavis and gestured toward the table, where the rest of the rings were. “Which ones do you like?”
Okay. Maybe Clavis was reading too much into Lisette’s behavior lately. Not everyone got cold feet, and the idea of Lisette struggling with that was . . . not impossible, but very very implausible. She didn’t care about politics, and yet she always put forth her best effort into maintaining and improving their territory. She hated formal functions but she attended them anyway with Clavis and they made their own fun out of it. So of course the pomp and circumstance of their engagement wouldn’t turn her away either. Clavis knew that, logically. And yet that pesky doubt always crept up anyway. It was still weird that Lisette had stopped with the complaints regarding becoming royalty, though.
“Babe?” Lisette prompted, head tilted in concern. Whoops. Lisette was like a wolverine with its prey when it came to him; she was going to find out what had him lost in thought even if it took her ages if he wasn’t careful.
Clavis shot her a disarming smile that he knew wouldn’t fool her in the slightest. And just as he predicted, she crossed her arms and gave him a chastising look, eyebrow raised and all, just to let him know how little she fell for it. It pulled Clavis’ smile into something more genuine. What a wonderful double-edged sword her knowledge of him was: he couldn’t hide how he was feeling from her, and it was an awful, gut-wrenching feeling, but her reactions were such a delight.
“Just coming up with ideas. So much inspiration to be had here,” Clavis waved off her concerns for now. Lisette muttered “uh huh” in a disbelieving tone but let him off the hook (for now; Clavis fully expected an interrogation later). He scanned the available rings. Like he’d advised the jeweler, the designs were toned down, more to Lisette’s preference. There were plenty of simple but nice rings to choose from that Clavis thought would really suit Lisette. Even the bands-something he should have expected, in hindsight-had good designs, with a few looking more feminine in shape and style.
There were a few that Clavis was drawn to; he picked up one that had a small, square diamond with two even smaller gems nestled next to it and climbing up the bridge of the ring and, for some inexplicable reason, tiny dots further along the side and lining the curves. But the dots were what drew him to the ring, made him grab it over the others. Not only was it a unique design choice, but they reminded him of a certain item of Lisette’s that he’d gifted her. Silly, but it was exactly the kind of silly sentiment Lisette would appreciate. “What do you think about this one?” he held it up for Lisette’s purview.
Lisette set down the band she’s been studying and took the one Clavis offered. “Huh, cool. Definitely unique. Yeah, I think that suits you,” she handed it back to him with a totally unassuming smile, like she hadn’t just said something that Clavis was furiously trying to process. She could be messing with him; it certainly wouldn’t be the first time Lisette pretended not to know about something in order to joke around. But this was Lisette: what if she genuinely didn’t know about the difference?
Clavis fought to keep his voice neutral as he said, “What else do you think would look good on me?” Please, please let it be the second option. The only thing better than Lisette revealing she didn’t know or care about a fundamental or traditional aspect of human culture was doing so in front of an audience. The jeweler was already giving her a funny look that she was completely unaware of, too engrossed in looking for other rings she liked for Clavis, examining the womens’ rings with a critical gaze.
“I don’t know,” Lisette finally replied, “None of the others are really speaking to me. They’re just not different enough. And if you want to include our own design, I think this will be the best one for that-we could replace those smaller diamonds with a carving of a lisianthus, couldn’t we?”
“True, true,” Clavis couldn’t help a bit of glee from spilling out. Lisette caught on immediately, no surprise there, and eyed him with suspicion. “And tell me, my lovely lover, any particular reason you looked through these sets of rings for me?”
“Riiight. Clearly I’m missing something here,” Lisette sighed in exasperation, probably because she knew Clavis wouldn’t tell her before she answered his question. “These ones-” she waved her hand over the wedding bands “-have some cool styles, but they don’t have the flair that fits you. The ones with gemstones draw the eye more, and if that isn’t you, I don’t know what is. And when I asked which ones you liked, I thought you would be looking for yourself, not me. Which was kind of stupid, now that I think about it, because since when do you ever put yourself first. Now tell me what social faux pas I’m making so I can know what I’m not giving a shit about.”
“Well, my darling, these rings are for women,” Clavis gestured to the different sections in turn, “and these are for men.”
Lisette’s gaze darted between the rings and bands. “Wait, seriously? That’s why they’re different?”
“Why did you think they were different?” Clavis was barely able to hold back his giggles at Lisette’s confusion.
“I don’t know, preference?” Lisette threw her hands up, “Why would I think rings were gendered? Why is that a thing?”
The jeweler was looking at Lisette like he was realizing she’d lived under a rock her whole life, which was not far off, as far as she’d told Clavis. It would be too mean to break his mind even further, wouldn’t it? That wouldn’t be a very nice way to treat someone doing them a favor, right? Absolutely not.
But it would be hilarious.
“What drew you to the bands, then?” Clavis pretended like he had no idea because sometimes you have to act clueless for the greater good. And boy, would this be good.
“Well, it’s not like I plan on wearing my ring when I’m fighting, but I figure it’s better to be safe than sorry, you know? On the off chance I don’t have an opportunity to put it somewhere safe, I want to know it’ll be resistant to damage. Or, worst case scenario, if I don’t even have time to take it off, I don’t want it breaking on me whenever I-” Lisette mimed a punch.
Now the jeweler looked downright horrified, and Clavis could no longer contain his laughter. He bent over with the force of his guffawing, shoulder knocking into Lisette’s arm. Watching people realize Lisette’s true nature was one of his favourite pastimes.
Lisette must have glanced back at the jeweler’s face, because she scolded, “Clavis, stop terrorizing the poor innocents.” It would have been more convincing if she weren’t smiling, and if Clavis didn’t know she liked doing the exact same thing.
Clavis nuzzled the spot behind her earlobe and promised, “Never. Now show me what rings have caught your fancy.”
Lisette gave him a quick peck on the cheek (so many perks to them being the same height) and showed him the only one left in her hand. It wasn’t a plain metal band like he was expecting: the edges were lined with a tiny looping pattern bordering a leaf design, with a fair bit of space in between the individual pieces. “I was thinking it would be easy to replace the leaves with our flower design,” Lisette explained, “Plus it looks a lot . . . freer compared to some of the other ones here. More room for my skin to breathe. What about you? Do you want to look through the bands too? Since I was apparently going through the wrong section.”
Well, that was something Clavis was going to milk for as long as possible. He slipped his ring onto the third finger of his right hand (it wouldn’t go on his left hand until Lisette herself put it there), waggling it for show. “I’m not sure how you can expect me to pick something else when my darling carcajou likes this one so much.”
“You have to like it too,” Lisette argued, “It’s not like these are our only options. We can always ask to see more, or take ideas from different ones to come up with our own. I’m sure there are others I’d think would suit you.”
All of that was certainly true. And there were undoubtedly more unique rings out there, let alone something he could create himself (a ring with a secret compartment was an enticing idea for sure). But for Clavis, this ring was a done deal the second he connected its design to Lisette. And like his wonderful wife to be, he could care less who the ring was originally meant for. Frankly, getting a ring that would make people do a double-take was just another point in its favor. But at the end of the day, all that mattered was that the ring made him think about Lisette.
“I think it’s perfect,” Clavis insisted. “You’re right, we can replace the stones on the side with two lisianthus that represent us. And if we want to incorporate our colours as well, the flowers can be purple and have the main stone be a red diamond.” There was a certain high that came with Lisette getting on board with Clavis’ ideas, whether they were harmless like this or one of his elaborate pranks. Watching her eyes light up in interest was an experience unmatched by anything else. It made Clavis want to give up just a little bit more. “Besides, don’t you think these cute little dots resemble the steel knuckles in your gloves?”
There. There was that sharp, heated gaze Lisette gave whenever her possessiveness was stoked. She glanced back at the ring-seeing it with new eyes, probably-and back up at him, something devouring in her gaze. The intensity sent a shiver down Clavis’ spine. Silly. Silly silly silly. How ridiculous, for Clavis to think Lisette was having second thoughts. How could he, when Lisette made it abundantly clear that he was still hers? He had her hickeys all along her neck, her tooth marks imprinted on his collarbone, her things thrown all over their rooms at both the palace and their territory.
It was a done deal from there, but Clavis could only give the jeweler half his attention as they arranged for specific detailing of their rings. Lisette didn’t take her eyes off him for a second, eyes hooded with intent that had Clavis rushing through the order in anticipation. How she was able to follow along with the conversation when Clavis felt like he was stumbling through his words to the point that Lisette had to speak up to clarify things here and there, he’d never know. Something about predator and prey mentality, he could imagine Lisette saying, something to do with human instinct being hard to overcome. Whatever the reason, this was exactly the kind of excitement Clavis lived for.
And when everything was taken care of and Lisette all but dragged him back to their room, leaving the jeweler with a gobsmacked expression, Clavis allowed his worries to stay behind him to return another day.
* * *
Hours later, Clavis lay spread out on the bed, utterly spent and satiated. Lisette, frustratingly and like always, looked like she could go a few more rounds (Clavis had long since given up the idea of matching her stamina-also, who knew non-penetrative sex could be this exhausting?). And she used that to her advantage when she essentially cornered Clavis. “So what had you distracted earlier today?”
Damn. Clavis knew he should have thought of an excuse sooner-there was no rhyme or reason as to when Lisette would confront him about things he kept hidden, so he’d long since learned to be prepared as soon as possible with something convincing enough to fool her (not that it worked anymore, unfortunately, but at least there was always a chance she wouldn’t press the issue). But there’d been no time, and now here he was reaping the consequences of being too obvious. There was only one option here: deny deny deny. And if that didn’t work, change the subject. “I’ve no idea what you mean,” Clavis said flippantly, “Lisette, you know my mind is always spinning. I must have been formulating my next masterful bout of mischief and merriment. You wouldn’t happen to be interested in joining me, would you?” Not his finest work, if Clavis had to be honest, but Lisette was getting better and better at weaseling out his secrets and nothing worked at deterring her, so what was a handsome prince to do?
“Uh-huh, so you have no problem if I just make some random guesses, yeah?” Lisette sounded as amused as she looked, which was not at all. It’s not like Clavis actually expected that to work, but really, his lovely lover couldn’t throw him a bone every once in a while? Now she was going to study his face to see which guess elicited a reaction from him, something she was unreasonably good at. Unless . . .
“Oh no, don’t you dare!” Lisette said when Clavis tried to pull an extra pillow over his head. They fought over it for a second-and no, Clavis is not being generous in describing it as such, so what if Lisette yanked it out of his grasp immediately?-before Lisette tossed it over the edge of the bed and held Clavis’ wrists to the mattress with one hand. Gods, that never failed to be hot. But not the time, Clavis!
“You’re a dirty cheater,” Clavis slammed his eyes shut and turned his head to the side, “Taking advantage of your future husband like this? Not a gentlewomanly thing to do.”
“And here I thought you’d enjoy being taken advantage of,” Lisette quipped, and Clavis couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped him, the small smile that painted his lips. “Come on, is all this effort really worth it? You know I’ll get the answer out of you one way or another.” She tickled his stomach for a few moments, forcing embarrassing, shrieking laughter out of him. He made a valiant effort to break free from her grip, but Lisette’s hold was as strong as stone, and to make matters worse-or better, depending on who you were asking, and since it was Clavis it was definitely the latter-she pinned him even further by sitting squarely on his chest.
“Another round so soon?” Clavis couldn’t help himself. Never let it be said that Clavis ever gave up without a fight, even if he wasn’t a match for Lisette, be it physically or figuratively. “Someone needs to find a way to bottle up your energy and sell it. They’d make a hefty profit.”
“The biggest question is whether it had something to do with the rings or not,” Lisette completely ignored him. A smart move, and just one reason why she was such a good partner to bring to difficult negotiations. “I feel like the fact that you were zoning out implies you were thinking about something else, but it was probably something related to them, right? Because you’re not the type of person to let your mind wander too far during a moment like that.” Oof, she was good. Clavis bit his bottom lip before he was even conscious of the action; he quickly let go, but the damage was done. “Looks like I was right,” Lisette said, “So, something related to getting rings. I’m guessing it’s about the engagement, yeah? Let’s see, could it be the planning’s not going how you want it to? Things moving too fast or too slow? What, are you getting cold feet?”
“Me?” Clavis whipped his head back to her, “You think I’m getting cold feet?!”
“So you thought I was getting cold feet?” Lisette asked smugly.
Damn. It was the inflection that got him again. “Of course not,” Clavis lied, tilting his head to expose the side of his hickey-covered neck, “Who could possibly think that when I have your marks all over me?’
“Don’t try to seduce your way out of this, it won’t work,” Lisette accused.
“Are you sure?” Clavis purred, pouting performatively. He arched his back as much as he could with Lisette’s weight on him, wrists flexing underneath her grip.
Lisette grinned in amusement, “I’m sure it’s less effective after we just had sex, as tempting as you are. And the more you try to distract me, the more sure I am that I’m right.” She ran her free hand along his collarbone, fingers skimming over her bite mark and sending a shudder through Clavis’ body. “Come one, spill. What had you so worried? You’ve been off for days. You were really worried I was having second thoughts? I will tickle the answer out of you if I have to.”
Even Clavis knew when it was more strategic to surrender. “I wouldn’t go that far,” he demurred, “I was just wondering why you’d been so reserved of late. My wild, fearsome lover no longer complains about having to become royalty? I was simply concerned that you had lost your vigor.” Look, no one said it had to be a complete surrender.
“Oh, yeah, I can see you jumping to conclusions over that,” Lisette said, which, rude.
“Rude.”
“But true. Dork,” Lisette gently flicked his earlobe, “Nah, I should have considered that. I just figured, since it was finally actually happening, why drag it down like that? It was fun to bitch and moan when it was still something in the far-off future, but I don’t want that kind of negativity around our actual engagement, even if it is mostly just for show and something we usually make jokes out of.”
Oh. Clavis shouldn’t be surprised. That was exactly the kind of consideration Lisette was known for, and you’d think Clavis would have gotten used to it already. But here he was again, stunned in the face of evidence of her love for him. It was unfair, really, how Lisette was in her first relationship ever and yet handled it so much better than him. Why was she such a natural? It must have been a testament to how much Lisette loved-
“Also, I’ve been busy making threats over the months to prevent people from calling me any fucking titles or treating me like a regular noble, so there’s no concern on that front,” Lisette flashed a sarcastic victory pose, holding up two fingers, a deeply smug expression on her face.
Right, of course. Clavis was aware of Lisette’s efforts to establish herself as her own entity within the palace, someone deserving of respect without giving up her identity. She’d largely succeeded, not that he was surprised; oh, many nobles hated or feared her, but they certainly knew better than to challenge her. Ah, the memories. It made sense that Lisette wasn’t worried, then. But that was only half of the problem covered. “There’s still our territory,” Clavis pointed out. Lisette would never use the same tactic on their subjects.
“Oh, yeah, I bribed them,” Lisette said matter-of-factly.
“You bribed them? All of them? When did this happen? How have you hidden this from me?” Clavis asked in amazement.
Lisette smirked wider, “There’s no way I’m answering that, not when I need all the ammunition I can get when dealing with you. All I’ll say is that it’s very easy to get them to agree with something when they know it’ll prevent you from getting an even bigger ego. Mostly they like me more than you, though.”
“That’s a bold-faced lie and I’ll prove it on our next visit,” Clavis would have to immediately start planning a . . . fun activity for his adoring subjects. This simply could not stand. Lisette would become too powerful if she was able to exploit the citizens whenever she wanted.
“Mmhmm, sure,” Lisette patted his chest condescendingly. She leaned down and nipped the tip of his nose before finally releasing his wrists to cup his face. “Hey,” she said, serious, “I still don’t care about all the official shit that comes with this. But I do care about us. I like being able to call you my fiance and having that mean something more than boyfriend, and how when I eventually call you my husband it’ll mean even more. I like having another physical form of our ties together, something more permanent than hickeys. All this claiming shit is right up my alley-you think I’m gonna be turned off by something that makes you even more mine? I meant it when I said I wanna own you forever.”
Oh dear. This was bad for his heart. This was really, really bad for his heart. “Very romantic,” Clavis teased half-heartedly, hoping Lisette couldn’t pick up on his spiking heartbeat, his shaky voice, “Nothing’s more swoon-worthy than talking about ownership.” For normal people, there’s no question that would be off-putting. Gods, what did it say about Clavis that there was something deeply relieving in hearing Lisette talk like that?
“Yeah, I’d say I’ve gotten pretty good at romancing you,” Lisette said knowingly, “I’ll gladly tell you how much you belong to me whenever you need it.”
Clavis breathed deeply in relief-whatever fear lessened earlier in the face of Lisette treating ring shopping seriously dissipated fully in the force of Lisette’s love. It would be back, always, but Lisette knew how to drive it away. ‘You could keep telling me now,” Clavis implored, angling his head up for a kiss.
Lisette gave him exactly what he needed: she bent down to kiss him, sweet but assertive, maintaining control over the pace and intensity, keeping it relatively chaste even though Clavis wanted more. She pulled back and went to kiss him over and over again, whispering things like “if you think some stupid ceremony is going to discourage me from keeping you, you’re insane” and “I didn’t drag you back from Obsidian to just let you go.” Clavis tried everything to get her to kiss him harder, but Lisette wasn’t having it. It was such an odd juxtaposition to her words that it had Clavis’ head spinning.
With one last kiss, Lisette leaned up and placed a hand on Clavis’ chest, directly above his heart. “As long as I have this, I’m not going anywhere,” she dug her nails into his skin, five pinprick points of pain that drove Clavis to euphoria, “There’s nothing in the world that could convince me to give this up. Got it?”
“Lisette,” it was the least vulnerable thing Clavis could think to say (more, harder, dig your claws in and yank, please, take it). It was all Clavis could say, when she leaned back down to kiss him again, and this time it was exactly what he wanted, a crashing wave that swept him up, hunger and passion, a promise and a vow.
Mine, mine, mine.
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Masterlist of entries for Shapes of Love Creation Challenge.
Honey-less Slumbers by @venulus
Ikemen Prince; Luke x GenderNeutral!Reader; SFW; Eros (Sensual Love)
Nostra Unica Famiglia by @fang-and-feather
Ikemen Vampire; Leonardo & Pureblood!Reader; secondary Charles x Pureblood!Reader; SFW; Storge (Familial Love)
Why by @eventinelysplayground
Ikemen Prince; Silvio & Rio; Silvio x MC; SFW; Storge (Familial Love) & Mania (Obsessive Love)
Rock & Currents by @lorei-writes
Ikemen Prince; Chevalier x OC; SFW; Pragma (Enduring Love)
Mine by @violettduchess
Ikemen Prince; Gilbert x Reader; SFW; Eros (Sensual Love) & Mania (Obsessive Love)
Portrait of a Gentleman Through the looking glass by @queengiuliettafirstlady
Ikemen Prince; Clavis x MC; SFW; Ludus (Playful Love) & Pragma (Enduring Love)
Superior Vena Cava by @kaizoku-musume
Ikemen Prince; Clavis x OC; SFW; Mania (Obsessive Love) & Pragma (Enduring Love)
Seven Rooms by @keithsandwich
Ikemen Prince; Keith & Alter!Keith x OC; SFW; Storge (Familial Love) & Pragma (Enduring Love) & Eros (Sensual Love)
Elements by @lorei-writes
Ikemen Sengoku; Kanetsugu x Reader; SFW; Eros (Sensual Love)
Thank you for participating!
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Elements
Kanetsugu x Reader
Fluff-adjacent/Comfort-adjacent (Conflict)
~700 words
Eros (Sensual Love) + “I find it quite difficult to keep my composure when you are around." + Kiss + Thrill
Loves, it feels so good to feel well enough to write. It is unreal. I'm so incredibly happy I could write a whole essay on it.
My second entry for Shapes of Love Creation Challenge @violettduchess and I are hosting. It is also my first entry for @queengiuliettafirstlady 's Love Booth Challenge... And a request from my inbox :)
Content Warnings: war (implied)
Thunder churns in the wiry clouds above, lightning whips striking the impertinent soil, so littered with arrows and discarded armour that little of it remains untouched. A drop spills from the heaven’s cup – to the memory of the fallen, for their honour… to conceal the drops that follow, for skies too do cry. Bellowing winds claw their way from below the ground. The nights, their sole objective is to haunt. But not you. Not you. For the love of any god or gods, of anything that is holy and is real, provided that any such things exist at all. Not. You.
Thunder churns in the wiry clouds above, lightning whips striking the impertinent soil, so littered with arrows and discarded armour that little of it remains untouched. A drop spills from the heaven’s cup – to the memory of the fallen, for their honour… to conceal the drops that follow, for skies too do cry. Bellowing winds claw their way from below the ground. The nights, their sole objective is to haunt. But not you. Not you. For the love of any god or gods, of anything that is holy and is real, provided that any such things exist at all. Not. You.
Fist slams against the table. Metal candle holder plinks; the inside of the tent is dimly lit, although even that little could be considered a luxury. Had the circumstances not required it, the commanding strategist would also resign himself to the cold embrace of darkness, treading the shallows of memories still too fresh to bear any salty tears. Now, however, Kanetsugu wishes to howl for a different reason. His eyes have lost their shine, their wisteria having withered and rotten away, only his canines glistening with spit as he near snarls. Barely not a beast yet not fully human, he seems to struggle against invisible snares.
“Why are you here?” he demands.
You meet his gaze. You meet his hurt. But since you have caused it, you cannot just comfort it away. “Where do you think I should be?”
“In Azuchi. In Kasugayama. Hell, for all I care, Aoba or Yonezawa. But not here!”
“Yeah?! And do you think I could be there?! Do you think I could just wait?!” Your palms hit the map, strikes delivered to depicted mountain ranges echoing through the very real ground underneath your feet, materialising in form of quakes brought forth by Kanetsugu’s steps. You turn to take on his storm directly. Sparks fly off his gritted teeth and electricity raises the hair at the back of your neck.
“So pretending to be a soldier was the better option?!” he thunders in your face.
“I —”
“I could have sent you to your death!”
You do not reply. There are no words you could offer him, not when even the flame trembles as his hands reach for you, half-expecting to pass through your flesh.
“How do you think I would feel if you died?” he whispers, hot breath spilling over your lips as he draws close. Kanetsugu cups your cheeks in his rough hands, desperate fingertips pressing into your skin to quench his disbelief. You are real. You are real. You still are real and it almost hurts, but you do not protest against him, do not tear him away from yourself. “If I killed you?”
His lips fall over yours like heavy rain, the emotion he so withheld flooding you as he allows his dams to break. Forceful like the elements, Kanetsugu presses on and pushes you back, until you have no choice but to drown in him. The table shakes and your hair spreads over the mapped out lakes, ink depths emerging to steal you, to claim you as theirs — and they would, most definitely would. But you cling to your love, he your disaster and he your only haven, the lifeline both enabling and preventing you from sinking to the very bottom of dismay. Your fingers grasp at his robes, draw him closer still, let go just to travel upstream and to anchor themselves in his hair. You don’t need to breathe. Not when Kanetsugu is there, not when he overfills you with his groans, not when his hips rock against yours, so strained with need and —
Kanetsugu lets go of you. Lashes shield his eyes, so you cannot gauge the state of his soul. Unsure of whether any turbulent currents continue to stir turmoil underneath his skin, you stare at him, only for your vision to be cut short as your foreheads touch.
“I find it quite difficult to keep my composure when you are around,” Kanetsugu rasps. “But if you were gone, I’d lose myself fully.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’d better be.”
--
Tag List: @violettduchess @the12thnightproject @oda-princess @tele86 @rinaririr @cheese-ception @queengiuliettafirstlady @sh0jun @lucyw260
+requested by: @bestbryn
Tell me if you'd like to be added to my tag list :)
#shapesoflovecc#love booth challenge#kanetsugu naoe#ikesen kanetsugu#ikemen sengoku kanetsugu#ikesen#ikemen sengoku#ikemen series
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your event shapes of love looks amazing - was wondering if these type of fics would be accepted in your event - suitor x suitor (either in a platonic/familial(brotherly love)/romantic(sexual) form of love) or poly relationships (suitor x reader/oc x suitor).
Hi anon!
Thank you for your interest in the event 💜
Yes, all of those are valid options! Just make sure any NSFW content is tagged!
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your event shapes of love looks amazing - was wondering if these type of fics would be accepted in your event - suitor x suitor (either in a platonic/familial(brotherly love)/romantic(sexual) form of love) or poly relationships (suitor x reader/oc x suitor).
Hello, Anon!
Thanks for reaching out to us! It's lovely that you enjoy our idea :) I see that @violettduchess was first to respond.
As such, let me just put it out there that we also welcome canon x OC works.
Happy creating!
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Welcome to the Shapes of Love Creation Challenge, hosted by @violettduchess and @lorei-writes
“There are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice.”- F. Scott Fitzgerald.
February is the month of love and we want to celebrate that! In that spirit, this Creation Challenge is focusing on love and all the different forms that can take.
Fandoms: The Ikemen fandom (Sen, Rev, Vamp, Pri, Vil)
Duration:. Feb 1st to Feb 29th, with the Masterlist dropping on 29th
Submissions: Fanfic, fanart, mood boards, wallpapers, collages, edits, OC x canon works, and all other creative inputs are welcome. Please, tag any NSFW entries appropriately. We reserve the right not to include unlabeled works on the Masterlist.
Other specifics: OCs - welcome; There may be other creation events within the fandom and it is fine for entries to not be event-exclusive (meaning they can be entries for other events at the same time!)
Prompt List below!
Eros (Sensual Love)
Philia (Platonic Love)
Ludus (Playful Love)
Agape (Charitable Love)
Pragma (Enduring Love)
Philautia (Self Love)
Storge (Familial Love)
Mania (Obsessive Love)
Please tag your work with #shapesoflovecc and don’t forget to tag us (@violettduchess and @lorei-writes) as well so that we can easily see your creations.
With love,
Violett 💜 and Lorei 💛
#ikemen series#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikemen vampire#ikevamp#ikemen sengoku#ikesen#ikemen revolution#ikerev#ikemen villains#ikevil
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#shapesoflovecc hosted by @violettduchess and @lorei-writes)
Creation challenge
Ludus (Playful Love)
Pragma (Enduring Love)
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