#Licht: (nods. nods)

[revoleotion]

Dawn meeting Licht: thank fuck there's another trans person here

Dawn: oh thank fuck all my problems have been solved

the bg3 gang: ?? what about the tadpole?

Dawn: oh sorry. I meant all my RELEVANT problems have been solved

[violettduchess]

A/N: A continuation of this headcanon, here is the same scenario with Chevalier and Licht, a small child entering their bedroom in the middle of the night

WC: 1.3

The child's white bedroom door, painted with a silvery moon and twinkling stars, opens slowly, a whisper in the still of the night. A small head pokes out, knuckling sleepily at eyes still heavy with the remnants of dreaming. A look left, then right.

The hall is empty.

Tiny bare feet tiptoe across plush carpeting.

One hand clutches a stuffed animal, the other reaches for the curved handle of your bedroom door and which, on a quiet exhale, opens.

Chevalier

The door slowly opens and a pale head of blond hair, silvery in the moonlight that spills through the bedroom window, peeks around the corner. Chevalier is still awake, reading by the warm glow of the oil lamp on his nightstand. You are sound asleep on your side of the bed, your feet stretched out and resting against his legs. It’s a small thing really, but he cannot deny the way it feels to know that even in sleep, you seek him out.

He lowers his book, making eye-contact with the little girl who is still peering around the door. “Yes?” It’s invitation enough. She enters, her stuffed white tiger tucked under one arm, both hands clutching a book to her chest. She approaches his side of the large bed, shoulders squared as she looks at her father, quiet determination in her expression. Chevalier glances at the silver clock, ticking quietly away on his nightstand, next to the lamp. “You should be sleeping.”

She nods, drawing a breath. “I know, Papa. But I have a dilemma.”

He forces himself not to smile at her very serious expression but the warmth is there, winding its way around his heart as he regards her. “Do you?” 

Carefully, she lays the book she’s been holding down onto his lap. He recognizes it as the book of fairy tales he has been reading to her for the past few nights, the one you had gotten for her birthday a fortnight ago. “I would like you to finish the story we began this evening. The one about the fae and the knight.”

Chevalier tilts his head, regarding her. “I believe we had this discussion an hour ago when it was your bedtime and I told you we would finish it tomorrow night.” 

She clears her throat, looking at him with eyes as blue as the endless sea, eyes that perfectly mirror his own. “I know and that is my dilemma. However…I’ve thought about it. And I have a good reason why we should continue now.”

His eyebrows raise ever so slightly. “Go on.”

She takes a moment, gathering her thoughts. “You see, the story was so interesting that I have not been able to sleep. In fact, I have been kept quite awake wondering what is going to happen. As you said Papa, this has already cost me an hour of rest. But…” She takes a deep breath, reading herself for the heart of her plea. “If you were to read me the last three pages, it would take you approximately fifteen minutes. And then I would know how the tale ends. And I could go to bed. If not, I worry I may continue to toss and turn and my sleep will be further interrupted.”��

He does not answer a moment. His words momentarily robbed by the strange and heady mixture of pride and love for his daughter that is squeezing his heart, an emotion she so often evokes and that never fails to leave him amazed. She waits, the only sign that she is eager to hear his response is the impatient wiggling of her toes. Finally, the corner of his lips lift in a soft smile.

“You make a very compelling argument.” He sets aside his book and then gets out of bed, taking her fairy tale book in one hand and holding out his other to her. “We’ll finish the story in your room, in our reading chair so that we don’t wake your mother.”

She smiles, brighter than the full moon, and suddenly he sees you, his beloved wife. There you are, the echo of your warmth and joy painted across her young face. The warmth and joy that reached through the walls around his heart and gathered him close, taught him not only was he worthy of love but he could love back just as fiercely. 

And here, your daughter, the living embodiment of that very love, grips his large hand happily as she leads the way back to her room. Impulsively she turns her head and kisses the top of his hand. “Thank you, Papa.” Chevalier answers her affection with a tender smile and a squeeze of her hand in return. “You are very, very welcome.”

Licht

He stirs the moment the bedroom door opens, having not quite sunk into the well of dreaming yet. Pushing himself up, his first instinct is to reach for the nightstand drawer where his dagger is waiting to bite into any intruder. But his hand stills, midair, when he sees who is peeking her pale head around the door. “Papa?” 

He murmurs her name and motions for his daughter to come in as you sleepily rub at your eyes, rolling over to see what’s going on. She rushes to the bed, her stuffed wolf held by its bushy tail. It’s only when she’s close that he notices the watery eyes, the rapid way her small chest rises and falls, the paleness of her cheeks.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” She climbs onto the bed and launches herself into her father’s arms, burying her face in the soft white linen of his sleepshirt. “I had a bad dream,” is her muffled reply. 

Licht’s breath hitches in his throat. He is far too familiar with the phantoms that still sometimes haunt his nights, the dark tendrils of fear and terror and pain that wrap themselves around his mind at its most vulnerable. Noticing the way he’s frozen, you reach over, placing a reassuring hand between his shoulder blades, rubbing gently even as you reach with the other hand to touch your daughter’s bare foot, letting her know you are there for her.

Licht breathes in, your touch bringing him back from the shadows. He adjusts his arms around her, then strokes her moonlight-hair with a steady hand. Your touch on his back soothes him, sending calm waves of warmth through him, the same steady flow of love and reassurance he is giving to your child.

“Dreams can feel very real,” he murmurs, speaking slowly and tenderly, his lips resting on the top of her head. “And it’s ok to be scared.” You nod, resting your chin on Licht’s shoulder and brush the back of your fingers against her round little cheek. “We’re here for you, my love. Always.”

She leans back, sniffling and Licht tenderly brushes her hair away from her flushed face. “Can I sleep here tonight?” He nods immediately, a smile gracing his lips as she climbs her way over the both of you to wiggle herself under the covers. Her wolf tucked close to her chest, she throws herself against her father, eliciting a soft laugh before snuggling up against his side, her head on his chest. 

Licht glances at you over her head, his eyes the soft red of sunset as he extends his arm in invitation. You slide closer, curling up against your daughter, your head pillowed by his arm. 

No nightmares trouble any of you for the rest of the peaceful night.

Taglist: @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage

@redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet

@silver-dahlia @wendolrea @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @ikesimpleton

@ikemenlibrary @namine-somebodies-nobody @whatever-fanfics @justpeachyteastea @chirp-a-chirp

@got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @mastering-procrastinating @portrait-ninja @starlitmanor-network

@sh0jun @queen-dahlia @themysticalbeing @nightghoul381 @whitelittlebunny

@chi-the-idiot @bubblexly @ozalysss

[v-akarai]

References in Servamp

Arabian mythology

Jinn. Ch. 16

Greek mythology

Elpis. Ch. 75

Moirai. Ch. 108

Pandora. Ch. 130

Pygmalion. Ch. 123

Pandora's Box. Ch. 97

Japanese mythology

Gashadokuro. Ch. 129

Kitsune. Ch. 3

Raijin. Ch. 85

Norse mythology

Baldr. Ch. 39

Bifröst. Ch. 88

Brunhild. Ch. 88

Fimbulwinter. Ch. 40

Freya. Ch. 65

Frey. Ch. 131

Gleipnir. Ch. 101

Hati. Ch. 91, 131

Hod. Ch. 39

Hliðskjálf. Ch. 96

Idunn. Ch. 65

Loki. Ch. 15

Mimir. Ch. 29

Mjölnir. Ch. 53

Ragnarök. Ch. 101, 122, 131

Sigurd. Ch. 101

Thor. Ch. 41

Yggdrasil. Ch. 42

Biblical references

Abel. Ch. 8

Adam. Ch. 128

Boaz and Jachin. Ch. 42

Eden. Ch. 21

Eve. Ch. 1

John the Baptist. Ch. 122

Judith. Ch. 147

Lucifer. Ch. 135

Noah. Ch. 145

Nod. Ch. 29, events

Hinduism

Asura. Ch. 57.5, 89.

Tarot

The Fool - Mahiru. Ch. 50

I. The Magician – Night trio. Ch. 41

II. The High Priestess – Mikuni. Ch. 42

V. The Hierophant - Shuhei. Ch. 77

X. Wheel of Fortune - Junichiro. Ch. 53

XII. The Hanged Man - Tsurugi. Ch. 50

XV. The Devil – Shamrock. Ch. 72

XVI. The Tower - Touma. Ch. 47

XVII. The Star - Iduna. Ch. 73

XVIII. The Moon - Yumikage. Ch. 69

XX. Judgement - Mikuni. Ch. 144

Literary references

 "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" Lewis Carroll. Ch. 3, 4, 7, 19, 98, 122. Misono, Lily, Dodo, Mitsuki, Yamane, Hattori, Mikuni, Bad B and Good B.

"As You Like It" William Shakespeare. Ch. 10, 38.5. Mikuni's spell.

"My Fair Lady" English nursery rhyme. Ch. 10 Mikuni's spell.

"Dracula" Bram Stoker. Ch. 12, 30. Hugh.

"Romeo and Juliet" William Shakespeare. Ch. 23, 34. Hyde, Ophelia.

"Faust" by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. Ch. 29 Johannes.

"Through the Looking-Glass" Lewis Carroll. Ch. 29, events. Mikuni, Johannes.

"Julius Caesar" William Shakespeare. Ch. 23, 84. Hyde.

"Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" Robert Stevenson. Ch. 23, 37. Hyde, Licht.

"Macbeth" William Shakespeare. Ch. 24, 31. Kuro, Saint Germain, Mahiru.

"Night on the Galactic Railroad" Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 26, 142. Higan, Tsubaki.

"The Little Prince" Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Ch 30, 67. Kuro, Mahiru, Sloth demon, Gear, probably Jeje.

"Hamlet" William Shakespeare. Ch. 33, 34. Hyde, Ophelia.

"The Phantom of the Opera" Gaston Leroux. Ch. 36 Licht and Hyde technique.

"Peter and Wendy" James Barry. Ch. 44, 56, 74. Tsurugi, Touma, Mahiru.

"Ring a Ring o' Roses" nursery rhyme. Ch. 53 Junichiro's spell.

“Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens” James Barry. Ch. 53, 75. Tsurugi, Touma.

"Death in Venice" Thomas Mann. Ch. 55 Gilbert technique.

"Total Eclipse" a play by Christopher Hampton. Ch. 55 Rayscent's technique.

"The Morning of the Last Farewell" Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 57.5 Tsubaki.

"Spring and Asura" Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 57.5 Tsubaki.

"The Catcher in the Rye" Jerome Salinger. Ch. 62 Shuhei.

"Four and Twenty Blackbirds" Agatha Christie. Ch. 62 Shuhei's spell.

"Metamorphosis" Franz Kafka. Ch. 62 Shamrock technique.

“The Nighhawk's Star” Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 62, 76. Shamrock technique.

"Rock-a-bye Baby" an English lullaby. Ch. 70 Touma's spell.

“Schlafe, mein Prinzchen, schlaf ein” lullaby. Ch. 70 Touma's spell.

"Who Killed Cock Robin" an English nursery rhyme. Ch. 70 Yumikage's spell.

"The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" Lyman Frank Baum. Ch. 70, 88. Tsukimitsu brothers’ spells.

"Daddy-Long-Legs" Jean Webster. Ch. 74. Dark Night Trio, Touma.

"King Lear" William Shakespeare. Ch. 86. Hyde.

"The House of the Sleeping Beauties" Yasunari Kawabata. Ch. 86. Iori.

"The Divine Comedy" Dante Alighieri. Ch. 118, 120, 121. Niccolo, Ildio, Gluttony demon.

“A Brute's Love” (人でなしの恋) Edogawa Rampo. Ch. 122 Mikuni, Lily.

"Coppelia" ballet Leo Delibes. Chapter 122 Mikuni, Lily.

"Salome" Oscar Wilde. Ch. 122, 147. Mikuni, Lily.

"Turandot" opera by Giacomo Puccini based on the play by Carlo Gozzi. Ch. 129, 136. Lily.

"The Tempest" William Shakespeare. Ch. 131. Licht and Hyde.

"The Old Man and the Sea" Ernest Hemingway. Ch. 134 Hugh.

"Flowers for Algernon" Daniel Keyes. Ch. 135 Hugh.

"Jane Eyre" Charlotte Brontë. Ch. 136. Hokaze.

"Madama Butterfly" opera by Giacomo Puccini. Ch. 136. Lily.

"Hansel and Gretel" the Brothers Grimm. Ch. 140. Faust and Otogiri.

"Girl Hell" Yumeno Kyusaku. Ch. 147. Mikuni, Noah.

Music

"Für Elise" by Ludwig van Beethoven. Ch. 34

"Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring" by Johann Sebastian Bach. Ch. 125

Sonata No. 17 "Tempest" by Ludwig van Beethoven. Ch. 131

Movies

"It's a Wonderful Life" (1946). Ch. 131

"Life is Beautiful" (1997). Ch. 131

I believe this list can be expanded. Somewhere I’ve written only chaps when some reference was mentioned for the first time and omitted all further mentions.

Special thanks to hello-vampire-kitty, joydoesathing and passmeabook, because some works wouldn’t be included in the list without their observations.

[ikeromantic]

Nanny Belle and the Midnight Princes pt1

Nanny Belle does her best to keep her favorite little princes entertained, while welcoming the kids from Jade, Benitoite, and Obsidian too. Diplomatic crises, chaos, and cuteness everywhere! Approx. 2500 words

Nanny Belle Stories here

Belle looked over the room with a critical eye. There was a play space for Luke and Rio, a reading nook for Chevalier, plenty of toys for Leon, Licht, Nokto, Jin, and Yves. Extra cleaning rags and a bucket of sand for any surprises from Clavis. Some places to lay down if someone felt tired, and a snack table with enough food to feed an army of little princes. It would do. 

“I hope it meets your exacting standards.” A cool, low voice tickled her ear. 

She nearly jumped as she turned to find Sariel at her shoulder. “I - I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I can be very quiet when I need to be.” He smiled. Some said the councilor’s smile made babies cry, but Belle found it endearing. Sariel had a sharp smile, wry, with a hint of dark humor. And there was a warmth in his eyes, especially when he looked at her the way he was looking now. 

Belle smiled back at him. “I believe it.” She gestured to the room. “Everything looks great. Thank you so much for letting us use this space. I really wanted the princes to feel special on the holiday, even if they don’t get to go to the king’s celebration.”

He nodded, clasping his hands behind his back. “You always take such good care of them.” Sariel’s smile faded. “I didn’t stop in just to see if the accommodations were sufficient. I also have a favor to ask.”

“For you? Anything.” She laughed.

“You should take care when you make such sweeping statements, especially to a man like me.” He looked entirely serious, almost grim, as he spoke. Then he pushed his glasses back up onto his nose. “There will be additional royalty present this evening. Prince Silvio and Emidio of Benitoite, Prince Keith and Tio of Jade, Princess Mirielle of Jade, and Prince Gilbert from Obsidian. They will be in your care for the duration of the celebrations.”

She felt her eyebrows lift and her shoulders tense. “I’m sorry?”

Sariel set his hands on her shoulders, reassuring her. “I know it’s a lot to ask, with so much already in your care. But it can’t be helped. The princes are visiting, as part of their education. And tonight, the ambassadors and tutors accompanying them will be at the king’s party.”

Belle swallowed. “Alright. I - I guess I can handle a few more little guys. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“War. But don’t let that worry you. I am sure you’ll be fine. You are a very capable woman with admirable talents.” Sariel squeezed her gently, almost a hug. “I’ll come check on you when I am able, or you can send a servant if need be and I will come running.” He smiled. “Anything for you.”

She smiled back, still feeling rather anxious. “Alright. When will they arrive?”

“Shortly after the party begins.”

Belle nodded. “Any allergies or special care I should know about?”

Sariel shrugged, his hands dropping to his sides. “Keep Gilbert away from anything sharp and pointy, Silvio likes shiny things, and Keith . . . is a moody child.” He reached up and lightly touched her cheek. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t think you could. And I mean it when I say, I will be here should you need me.”

She felt her cheeks heat beneath his gloved fingertips. “Thanks Sariel. That means a lot. I just hope I don’t disappoint.”

“You won’t. Good luck, my dear. And happy new year!” Sariel waved as he left, hurrying on to his next task. 

Belle watched him go with a bittersweet smile. Sariel was such a professional. So knowledgeable, and kind to spend so much of his time here reassuring her. A mere nanny. She sighed. But there wasn’t much time to worry as the boys were on their way.

Jin arrived first, with Luke on his shoulders, chased by one of the nursery maids. “Wheeee! Pffff!” He whinnied and snorted like a horse, and pretended to buck while Luke clung to his head. A tiny, chubby little red-headed knight, drooling on his horse. 

“Be careful,” Belle called out, as Jin charged toward the snack table. 

“Yes, Nanny Belle!” Jin skidded to a halt. “Do I get a kiss on the cheek for being good?” 

“Nope. I expect you to be good. But if you’re extra good, maybe you can have a kiss on the top of your head later.” She grinned at the cheeky boy. One day, she thought, that kid is going to break hearts. 

Jin smiled widely. “Then I’ll be extra good.”

“I somehow doubt that.” Leon strode in after him, looking every inch a little prince. His cheeks were still a little hollow from his last bout of sickness, but he was smiling, and moved with boyish energy. “Is this where they’re packing us away during the party?”

Belle shook her head. “This is where we’re having our own much better party. The ballroom will just be full of stodgy people drinking wine and doing formal dancing. In here, we get to play games and eat good food, and dance however we want to.”

“Dancing is stupid,” Licht interjected as he and Nokto came into the room. 

“It is not,” Nokto argued.

“Is too!”

“Not!”

“Hey! If Licht doesn’t want to dance, that’s ok. He can use the telescope on the balcony to look at stars instead.” Nanny Belle gestured toward the wide balcony space beyond a set of glass double doors.

“There’s a telescope?” Nokto’s eyes got big and suddenly all the boys were rushing out to the balcony to look at it. 

Chevalier shuffled in next, his lips in a hard frown. He held a book in each hand. He didn’t say anything to Belle, just came in and plopped down in the reading nook she’d set up for him. He opened one of his books and glared down at the page. 

Belle knew better than to interrupt his funk. He was angry at being excluded from adult things, a sentiment she understood. Chev was a gifted child and being stuck with the other kids grated on him. But despite his brilliance, he was still a child at heart and she knew he’d come around once he got over his sulk.

Yves came in with another of the nursery maids. It looked as if he’d taken extra time with his outfit and hair. He looked around the room with an air of cautious curiosity, then his eyes fell on Belle. “You look the same.” He crossed his arms grumpily. “You’re ‘posed to dress up for parties!”

“Oh! Well, you’re absolutely right Prince Yves. But even though I’m wearing my nanny’s uniform, I promise I’m all dressed up and fancy inside.” She grinned and winked at him.

“What does that mean?” Yves touched a strand of his curly hair. 

“It means in my imagination and in my heart, I’m wearing the fanciest ballgown tonight. I bet if you close your eyes, you could imagine it too.” 

He clenched his eyes shut and took on a look of extreme concentration. “Oh! Yes, I can imagine it Ms. Belle.”

A jingling distracted Yves from his imaginary nanny, and he turned toward the door. “Is this the kid-jail for tonight’s shindig?” A willowy young boy stood in the doorway. He had pale, fluffy hair and sea blue eyes. He jangled due to several bejeweled chains at his hip, wrist, neck, and ankles. It was more jewelry than Belle had ever seen on a child.

“Ummm, yes, this is where we’re having a princes’ party. What’s your name, little guy?” Nanny Belle was sure he was one of the foreign princes, but which?

“You can call me your highness. Damn uppity servants. Who do you think you are, asking for my name? I should buy your contract just so my dad can fire you.” He put a fist to his hip and glared at her.

“Shut up, Silvio. Your jangling and yapping grates on my nerves.” Chevalier spoke up from his corner without looking up from his book.

Nanny Belle smiled as best she could. What a rude little boy! “Welcome, Prince Silvio. You’ll find the snack table there, and some games and toys over here. And there’s a telescope on the balcony. I hope you’ll find something you like to do.”

He rolled his eyes, but sauntered in. “These snacks are lame. What is this even? A fruit tray?”

“Silvio, that’s not very nice.” Another new voice came from the doorway, or rather, from beside it. The speaker was hiding behind the doorframe. 

Yves put his thumb in his mouth, a nervous gesture, and scooted closer to Belle. 

“Shut it, Gloomskull. Nobody asked you.” Silvio frowned at the empty doorway. “And quit skulkin’ around. Come in or go home.”

A smaller boy walked in, his hands clenched nervously at the hem of his jacket. “I can’t go home. It’s too far to walk.” He wavered nervously just inside the room as if he might really try to run home.

Belle crouched down to his height. “We wouldn’t want you to go home, Prince Keith. Come here and I’ll show you how to use the telescope.”

He stared at her, clearly unsure what to make of her offer. 

She held out her hand, waiting for him to take it. 

After a long moment of studying her hand and face, he tentatively grasped one finger. “Ok.” 

Silvio scoffed and rolled his eyes, but when Nanny Belle started for the balcony with Prince Keith in tow, Silvio trailed along behind them, jangling with every step. The balcony was decorated with flowers and ribbons, with several low couches and tables set up. The telescope was off to one side, pointed out toward the hills beyond the capital city. 

Licht and Nokto were taking turns gazing through it, even though it wasn’t dark enough to see anything in the sky yet. The twins turned as the two new princes approached. Despite their similar appearances, their reactions couldn’t have been different. Nokto smiled widely, while Licht gave a little frown and walked to the rail, ignoring them completely. 

Keith was so excited by the telescope that he let go of Belle’s hand to rush over to it. 

Nokto immediately stepped in to play host, a natural diplomat. “Do you like it? My father had it imported from Obsidian.”

“Does it use gems for lenses?” Keith asked excitedly.

“Gems?” Silvio perked up.

Nanny Belle intended to step in before Nokto started weaving one of his embellished stories, but a loud woman’s voice summoned her back into the main room. A woman stood in the doorway, dressed in the most fashionable gown from the season’s ballroom wear. It might have looked nice, had she not covered it with ostentatious - but expensive - jewelry, and too much heavy makeup. She had a little boy with her, cradled in her arms as if he were an infant, though he was clearly old enough to walk on his own.

“My lady,” Belle gave a deep curtsy.

The woman glared at her but did not respond. Instead, she spoke to the boy in her arms. “Is mommy’s little ‘Dio going to be happy here? What do you think? Do you want to stay with me? Hmmm?”

“I . . .” the little boy’s sea blue gaze tracked across the room, taking in the toys and games and snacks, lingering on the other children. 

“Highness, your husband is waiting,” a servant said softly from the hallway, just out of sight. 

The woman pinched the boy’s cheek. “Of course you want to stay. Mommy will come back for you after the party, ok?”

“I . . .” Before he could say anything else, the woman set him down and hurried out without another word. The boy stood there looking a little bewildered. 

Belle crouched in front of him and smiled gently. “Let’s see. Your eyes are blue like the ocean, and your hair is almost azure . . . so you must be Prince Emidio. Am I right?”

He nodded and wiped his nose on his sleeve. 

“Your brother is on the balcony looking at a telescope. Did you want to go out too?” 

Emidio glanced out at the balcony and shook his head. “No. I want to go home.” 

Chevalier glanced up from his book, staring at the Benitoitian prince with an icy glare. 

Emidio swallowed whatever other complaint he had and smiled up at Nanny Belle. “I am sorry, miss. Thank you for having me here. I am sure this party will be wonderful.” He looked over at the snack table. “May I?”

“Of course,” Belle smiled at him brightly. His whole demeanor shifted in a blink, and while she was sure he was still unhappy, there was no sign of it. It made her sad to see how even at this age, the young prince knew to hide his feelings. She leaned closer and whispered, “It’s ok if you miss your mama. She’ll be back for you soon. In the meantime, I hope we can have fun.”

He blinked at her in surprise, and then nodded. 

Nanny Belle might have said more, but her attention was pulled away by shouting on the balcony. She hurried out to see what was going on. 

“You threw Luke’s honey roll! I saw!” Jin was pointing at Keith, his voice raised. Luke was whimpering and staring off the balcony after something. Probably his honey roll. 

“Did I? Hm. Maybe it was an accident,” Keith shrugged, a mischievous smile on his lips. “Or maybe you imagined it.”

Licht frowned at him, garnet eyes hard. “I saw too. It wasn’t an accident.”

“I think you imagined it.” Keith shrugged again. “He probably dropped it himself, trying to get his sticky hands all over the telescope. If anything, we’re lucky he dropped it. Because if he smeared the lens, we couldn’t see anything tonight.”

Nanny Belle took a moment to listen. This was nothing like the shy little moppet she’d welcomed in a few minutes ago. He was like an entirely different little boy. She didn’t understand it, but if she didn’t intervene, this was going to turn into an incident. “Come here, Prince Luke. I’ll get you a new honey roll, ok?” 

Luke toddled over to her, sticky fingers grasping at the air as she picked him up. 

“Prince Jin, I’m sure if Prince Keith dropped anything, it was an accident. We’re all friends here, so let’s remember that.” She gave Jin a sharp look. 

He caught it, and after a moment, he nodded. “Yes, Nanny Belle.” He took a breath. “I’m sorry, “Prince Keith. I must have been mistaken.”

Keith grinned widely. “Thanks. And hey, can I get a honey roll while you’re at it, Nanny?”

“Of course.” Nanny Belle led him inside, with Luke balanced on her hip. She handed the tyke a honey roll and settled him in a chair so he couldn’t get sticky sweet smears on everything. Then she handed Keith a plate with another roll on it. “Do you need a fork?”

“Yes, please?” Prince Keith’s smile seemed gentler now, but maybe that was just getting something sweet to eat. 

Belle handed him the fork just in time to turn and see another servant in the doorway. He was tall and dressed in light armor, all black. He looked dangerous, and he probably was. The royal crest of Obsidian was emblazoned on his chest, and though he wasn’t armed, he looked capable of violence.

To be continued!

[chirp-a-chirp]

Ikemen Prince: Fireworks

Scenario: It’s been several days since the princes have had any alone time with Emma. A fireworks show is on display for all of Rhodolite. Emma is alone on a shadowy, secluded balcony with her consort. How do they react?

Rating: PG-13

Words: ~550

Princes: Clavis, Leon, Licht, Rio

...

Clavis

Emma is transfixed as the sky lights up, the smell of powder faintly tickling her nose. She does not realize Clavis is gone until she hears a noise from his quarters. Oh no, is it coming from THERE? Emma sprint towards his room and find herself caught in a net trapping her legs. Clavis preens, closing the door. 

“I have something better to show you, my accomplice.” He sets off internal fireworks in his room to Emma’s absolute joy. Somehow, they are safe. Nothing is on fire. A miracle. However, Emma marvels at something more miraculous—Clavis somehow stripping her without realizing it. The net remains entangled against her limbs. 

“How did you do that Clavis?!”

“A gentleman does not reveal all his secrets.” 

“You’re a wicked gentleman!” 

Two fingertips trail up her calf and towards her inner thigh. “I never denied that my dear.” 

Leon

Leon sits in the shadows and invites Emma to climb in his lap to watch. A comforting arm encircles her waist as her back nestles against Leon’s chest. 

“I missed you. So, so much.” He whispers the words against her hair.

“Me as well.” Emma sighs, enjoying the moment. Leon’s fingers move in small circles against her side, as if confirming her presence. 

A few minutes later, those same fingers move upward, caressing over Emma’s dress, teasing now pert nipples. A throaty timbre rumbles in her ear. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Leon cannot see Emma’s expression, but her breathy gasp says it all. And then, he does see her—she’s brighter than any light, eyes full of passion, as Emma turns in his lap and kisses him hungrily, a seductive warmth on her lips. 

After a bit, Leon leans back, his thumb tracing her jawline. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles. Emma blushes but moves against him, the fireworks long forgotten.          

Licht

A series of images of Emma bent over the balcony railing as he hammers into her flood Licht’s brain. He REALLY has missed her. 

But no. The pure joy he sees on her face as the sky turns into a kaleidoscope of color stalls his urges. He places a hand on Emma’s shoulder and squeezes, enjoying her unmitigated delight. Emma’s face flushes—at both the loud explosions and the heat she feels at her lover’s touch. 

“I love this,” Emma whispers. Licht nods at the lit-up sky. 

“No, I mean being here with you.” Emma kisses his hand and cradles it to her face. His face softens.  

Yep, Licht is going to thoroughly delight her tonight…after the fireworks. 

Rio

“Rio, you’re missing the performance!” Emma’s giggle turns to a gasp at Rio’s lips. Emma is laying back on a reclining chair Rio procured for her comfort. Rio’s face is turned not at the fireworks display but at Emma’s neck. 

“No, I’m not.” Rio’s lips traverse slowly down her neck. “The fireworks I most desire is right before me.” His fingers trace her curves reverently, his eyes blazing with heat. When Emma moans her consent, his lips and fingers slowly peel off the top of her blouse. As a burst of fireworks erupt, Emma’s glowing face is illuminated. 

“Beautiful,” Rio murmurs. 

“I thought you couldn’t see the fire—”

“I was talking about you, love.” His lips crawl back up towards her face in a searing kiss. “Always.”

[wistfulwanderingone]

🍂"Whispers in the Harvest Breeze" 🍂

Fandom: Ikemen Prince

Characters: Cassandra Bellarose (OC), Clavis Lelouch, Yves Kloss, Licht Klein

Pairing: Clavis Lelouch x OC

Event: Falling For Fall CC

Hosted by: @violettduchess & @lorei-writes

Prompt: Harvest (Fluff)

🍂 Whispers in the Harvest Breeze 🍂

The sun hung high in the sky, bathing the fields of Clavis LeLouch’s territory in a warm, golden glow. Rows upon rows of ripened wheat swayed gently in the breeze, carrying the scent of earth and grain through the air. Cassandra stood at the edge of the field with Yves and Licht, taking in the sight of the villagers working diligently. Their hands moved in rhythmic unison, laughter and lighthearted chatter blending with the soft rustle of the crops.

Among them, she spotted a familiar figure—Clavis. His sleeves were rolled up, and a wide, playful grin adorned his face as he worked alongside the villagers. Her heart fluttered at the sight of him. Despite his princely title, Clavis fit seamlessly into this scene. He was every bit as charming and mischievous as she had come to expect, but today, there was something softer about him.

Here, in this golden light, he wasn’t just the trickster prince. He was someone who cared—someone who worked with his hands, sharing in the labor of his people.

Cassandra’s gaze lingered on him longer than it should have. She watched as he effortlessly lifted a heavy bundle of wheat, the muscles in his arms flexing under his rolled-up sleeves. The sight sent a little thrill through her—a reminder that beneath his playful exterior, Clavis was strong and capable. A prince, yes, but also undeniably real.

He smiled at a young boy who shyly handed him another bundle, his movements so smooth and natural that it was easy to forget he was royalty.

Yves stepped forward, already rolling up his sleeves with a determined look. “I’ll focus on getting the rows done efficiently,” he said, scrutinizing the wheat as if every stalk had to meet his standard. Licht gave a small nod in agreement, quietly joining the workers without hesitation.

As they moved into the field, Cassandra took her place, fingers grazing the rough stems of wheat as she tied them into neat bundles. But no matter how hard she tried to focus on the task, her gaze wandered back to Clavis. He was farther down the row now, joking with a farmer, when suddenly, their eyes met.

A familiar, impish gleam lit up his expression, and before she could look away, their eyes locked. Clavis held her gaze for a heartbeat longer, then, with a slow, teasing wink, he broke the spell.

Her breath hitched, her heart skipping in her chest. She quickly looked away, her cheeks burning as she pretended to be utterly absorbed by the bundle of wheat in her hands. But it was no use. The memory of his wink lingered, teasing her, and she couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at her lips.

The steady rhythm of work eventually began to slow, their movements less hurried, until one by one, they drifted to rest. She settled onto the edge of a hay pile, the quiet hum of the field and the gentle breeze offering a welcome reprieve. The breeze carried with it the scent of wheat and earth, a soothing contrast to the rapid beating of her heart. But her brief moment of calm was interrupted by a light tug on her hair. She reached up, her fingers brushing against something that didn’t belong—straw?

She turned to find Clavis standing innocently nearby, his hands clasped behind his back, eyes twinkling with familiar mischief.

“Something wrong, my little daydreamer?” he asked, his voice low, playful.

Cassandra laughed, pulling a strand of straw from her hair. “I wonder how that got there.” She raised an accusing eyebrow at him.

Clavis stepped closer, the air between them thickening as his usual teasing demeanor softened. He leaned in, and she caught the scent of summer on him—fresh, warm, mingled with the earthiness of the fields. His fingers, rough from the day’s work, brushed away the rest of the straw from her hair, lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“So, is the plan to turn me into a scarecrow for the harvest?” she teased, her smile faltering as his fingers lingered.

His rough fingers brushed through her hair, plucking out the last bits of straw with a touch that lingered just a moment too long. “I think you'd make quite the captivating scarecrow,” he mused, twirling the straw between his fingers.  He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to that dangerously smooth tone. “You wear it far too well,” he murmured, still twirling the strand in his fingers. His eyes gleamed with mischief, but there was something more beneath the surface—a flicker of sincerity that made her pulse quicken. “Even as a scarecrow,” he added with a wink, “you’d be utterly irresistible.”

Her smile wavered as she blinked up at him, dazed by his nearness and that ridiculous, flirtatious charm. “Wear what?” she managed to ask, her voice a bit unsteady.

“The straw,” he replied as he reached out, his fingers grazing her cheek. “Though this dirt...” His voice trailed off, softer now, barely more than a murmur as his fingertips traced the edge of her face, sending warmth rippling through her. “You’ll have to be careful. I wouldn’t want you to blend into the harvest.”

His words hung between them, playful yet charged with a meaning that made her pulse quicken. “Then again,” Clavis’s voice dropped to an intimate whisper “perhaps I wouldn’t have to share you if you did.”

Her heart fluttered wildly, their gazes locking, the world around them fading into the background. Cassandra felt herself sinking into the intensity of his words, the warmth of his fingers still lingering on her skin.

His words, playful but laced with something deeper, tugged at something inside her.  Her heart fluttered wildly as their gazes locked, the world around them fading into soft focus as she found herself sinking into the closeness between them. The warmth of Clavis’s fingers on her skin sent a gentle thrill through her. She wanted to close her eyes and lean into his touch. 

But then…

“Would you stop teasing Cassandra, Clavis?” Yves’s voice cut through the spell, his tone both protective and exasperated.

Clavis straightened, tucking a stalk of straw behind Cassandra’s ear with a grin. He turned to face Yves and Licht, their frowns unmistakable. The moment was shattered—but not entirely lost. Cassandra’s heart still raced, her cheeks warm from more than just the heat of the afternoon sun.

“Who said I was teasing her?” Clavis asked, raising an eyebrow as if genuinely offended by the accusation.

Licht, standing off to the side, gave him a flat stare. “You tease everyone.”

Yves crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Sincerity isn’t your strong suit.”

Clavis sighed, dramatically placing a hand over his chest. “You wound me, dear brothers. To think I’m not capable of a genuine moment.”

Yves rolled his eyes. “Of course. I forgot, you’re the epitome of sincerity,” he said with a sarcastic edge, pulling at the collar of his shirt, beads of sweat glistening on his brow.

Clavis flashed a grin, unbothered by the jab. “I am many things, dear Yves. A prince, a man of wit, and yes, a paragon of sincerity...when I choose to be.” His gaze flickered back to Cassandra, and though his words remained light, there was something beneath the surface of his words—a flicker of genuine warmth just for her.

Cassandra felt her cheeks flush again, but before she could say anything, Licht interjected, adjusting the basket of wheat beside him. “You mean when it suits you to manipulate a situation.”

Clavis shrugged, unbothered. “Details, details.”

Yves shook his head, turning to Cassandra with a small, sympathetic smile. “You shouldn’t let him get to you. He’s impossible.”

“Impossible, yes—but predictable? Never,” she said, smiling nervously as she tried to regain her composure.

Clavis’s grin broadened as he glanced between them. “Oh, my darling enchantress, don’t tell me you’re joining their side? I thought we had something special.” His voice was teasing, but his gaze lingered on her just a bit longer, as if searching for a deeper answer.

Yves groaned. “Clavis, just get back to work before you flirt the entire day away.”

Clavis shot him a wink. “I’m a master of multitasking. I can do both.”

With that, Clavis turned and strode back into the fields, whistling a carefree tune, his figure illuminated by the golden afternoon light. His lighthearted attitude seemed to melt into the steady rhythm of the harvest work around them. Cassandra’s eyes followed him, her heart still fluttering in his wake. The warmth of the sun beat down on her, but it was nothing compared to the heat that lingered from his brief touch, the feel of his fingers brushing her cheek.

She smiled to herself, fingers absently brushing the straw still tucked behind her ear. As the breeze tugged at her hair, it felt as though Clavis had swept something away with him—something light, something unspoken. No matter how playful he acted, there was something undeniably real in the way he looked at her—a sincerity hidden beneath all the teasing.

As the day’s work continued, her mind lingered on the prince who left an impression wherever he went. With every glance he threw her way, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to him—more than the laughter, the charm, and the well-placed pranks. Something deeper.

Something just for her.

And that, perhaps, was what left her breathless.

[xxsycamore]

Can you do 13 with licht please? Like maybe Leon asks Emma to help him prank licht while they’re sparring and Emma just starts dropping poses lol

HAHAH i love this anon, thank you for the idea!

[🤸‍♀️] 𝙵𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙻𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚠𝚘…

LICHT:

You feel Licht's eyes on you as Leon leans in to mutter something in your ear, at the other end of the sparring range. He probably also notes the way your lips curl up, the way you bring your hand over them to prevent the giggles from escaping because it will start to look too suspicious. Leon clears his thought and takes hold of his training sword and you clear yours as well, shouting some encouragement for Licht that he barely needs, really. It's just another one of their sparring sessions, only this time you insisted on watching.

Licht nods his head to you as thanks for your cheering as he takes his pose, legs slightly parted, giving him a stable grounding as Leon is already charging in his direction. Licht's technique is flawless, his reputation as a master swordsman being solidified once again. He's in the zone. Nothing can possibly distract him from his target—

Being where you are behind Leon and right in Licht's field of vision, you raise your hand and strike a pose, sticking up your opposite knee in the air. Licht's eyes meet yours for a mere second, before he performs his counterattack on Leon. No, he acted ahead of time! Leon swiftly blocks Licht's sword, almost knocking it off his hand.

Next, you bring both your hands behind the top of your head, making them stick up like a pair of ears, and you start hopping around like a little bunny. As you turn to face the two sparing men again, you feel a surge of triumph as a pair of ruby eyes watch your performance.

Next, you strike a pose that is reminiscent of how Clavis dances when he thinks no one is watching, then you lean against the wall and curl your finger in a come-hither motion in Licht's direction like Jin does to the ladies, then—

Then you don't have to strike any more poses because, with a loud clank, Licht's sword meets the floor.

"What was that about?" He can't help but ask, even though his expression is pretty much back to normal. You and Leon meet gazes, the latter quick to cover for you.

"It's no one's fault that you're being distracted. You think our enemies would have it any easier on us in a real fight? Come on."

You parrot Leon's words and nod your head, arms crossed in front of your chest. Not that you're fooling anyone. Leon doesn't bother hiding the smirk on his face either, so he just bumps fists with you on his way out of the sparing range.

Licht remains as he is, staring right at you. You wonder what this look means...

∎ (REQUESTS CLOSED) Steal My Heart!! - xxsycamore’s 1500 followers celebration event | 💌 event masterlist

[ikeprinces-stuff]

[𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬, 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜]

A/N note : Happy birthday Leon Dompteur 🥺🥀✨❤️

(header and Romarin's art by : yours truly 😉✨❤️)

Pairing: Leon Dompteur x Romarin ??????

Warning: No warning WC: 3K

Previous fics:

Tendon Entanglement The Melody Of A Kiss

Two Cups Of Warm Love Symphony Of Longing

The dome now stands empty, its once-vibrant beauty's time rose having fulfilled its purpose in the most perfect manner. No longer does it have reason to confine itself within the intricately adorned structure. Its position remains unchanged, steadfast by the throne that lies before it. Save for the golden engravings that accentuate its edges, the throne appears merely as an ordinary chair; yet, its significance lies in the identity of the one who occupies it and the weight of their responsibility.

Upon his ascension to kingship, the throne became his rightful seat. He had attained what he sought within these palace walls, vowing to guide his kingdom towards a future of light and peace. Yet beneath the surface of his triumph lies a sense of unease; a profound emptiness stirs within him, unsettling his very soul. Has he truly found joy now that his ambition has been realized? Is there nothing more he desires?

His amber gaze lingered on the dome’s glass, captivated by the way the early morning sun illuminated the tall windows of the throne room. Though the sunlight bathed the space in warmth, that warmth failed to penetrate the heart of this solitary king.

On the morning of August 1st, a palpable excitement buzzed through the palace, a day that everyone recognized with eager anticipation. Though the sun had yet to climb high in the sky, the servants scurried about, diligently preparing for the grand celebration planned for that evening. Yet, amidst the flurry of activity, they found time to show their utmost respect to the guest of honor.

“Good morning, Your Majesty. Wishing you a happy birthday in advance,” one maid offered with extra reverence. The king returned her sentiment with a warm smile and a nod. “Thank you. I see everything is progressing smoothly?” he observed, glancing beyond her to the hustle of preparations. She confirmed with a nod, “All in honor of you, my lord,” before excusing herself to resume her tasks, mindful not to linger and waste the king’s time.

From where he stood, the party hall came into view, adorned with decorations and seemingly endless gifts addressed to him. Although he was accustomed to the organized chaos of such events, the familiar atmosphere brought a gentle smile to his face.

“Oh, look who’s up early? The birthday man, or should I say, the birthday King,” chimed a familiar voice as an arm casually draped over his shoulders. He chuckled lightly, recognizing the playful tone of his older brother. “Sariel insisted on an early wake-up call and, of all people, sent Vernard to rouse me, so I had little choice,” he replied, gently removing the First Prince's arm with the familiar ease of their brotherly banter.

The brothers made their way to the Domestic Faction office, where they found Yves and Licht already seated at their desks. “Good morning, you two,” Leon greeted casually. “Good morning, Your Majesty,” Yves replied promptly, while Licht offered only a nod of acknowledgment.

“Alright, Leon, it's time to prepare for the party tonight. You have a hefty workload ahead of you, especially since you’ve been sneaking out of the palace these past few days. This will be your first birthday celebration as a king instead of a prince,” Yves said, his tone a mix of firmness and concern. Licht’s expression was icy as he interjected, “What’s the difference?”

“There’s a world of difference, Licht. As a king, he must be present to greet and accept congratulations from the nobles of the royal court,” Yves explained. “It’s no different from being a prince,” Licht scoffed, his skepticism palpable. Just as Yves was about to elaborate, Leon’s surprised voice cut through their discussion. “Huh?”

“Looks like he’s caught on,” Jin smirked from his position near the door. Leon ambled over to his desk, where he noticed all his papers and documents had been meticulously organized. After a careful inspection, he let out a resigned sigh. “Vernard…”

“You called?” came a voice from behind Jin, causing him to start slightly. Turning around, he was met with Vernard’s sudden presence, as if he had materialized from thin air. “He's done it again,” Jin remarked, clearly taken aback by Vernard’s knack for appearing unexpectedly. Vernard merely shrugged. “I tend to do that. You should get used to it.”

Leon gestured at the neatly arranged documents scattered across his desk. “You finished all of this, didn’t you?”

“That’s no surprise,” Licht replied, his tone still frosty, while Jin added with a grin, “He does this all the time; so, what's the big deal?" Leon leaned back against his desk, addressing Vernard again. “You woke me up early for a reason, and we both know it was so I could tackle these official duties before nightfall. Yet, here you are, having done the work. If this was your plan all along, why bother waking me up in the first place?”

The answer was obvious to them all, but Leon chose to voice it anyway. Vernard simply grinned. “Because I can’t refuse any request from Mr. Sariel, no matter how absurd it may be.” He explained nonchalantly, “He told me, ‘Wake King Leon up tomorrow morning,’ without any further explanation, and I obliged. It’s not my concern if your waking up holds no significance anymore.” His faint smile, almost imperceptible from a distance, spoke volumes about the humor lurking beneath the surface of their daily chaos.

Leon let out a dramatic sigh, but honestly, Vernard’s antics didn’t faze him. He and his brothers, along with just about everyone in the palace, were used to Vern’s quirks by now.

“You really knocked out those backlogged duties in record time,” Yves remarked, casting a doubtful look at Vernard. “So does that mean—” But before he could finish, Vernard jumped in, cutting him off. “That means Leon’s got way too much free time on his hands now.” Everyone turned to Vernard in surprise.

“You heard him, chief. Vern gives you a free pass,” Jin chimed in with a lazy wink, popping a sugar lollipop into his mouth.

“So, are you planning to meet up with her today too?” Jin asked, and the moment he said it, the group’s attention shifted to Leon. They all knew he was talking about the wandering musician who’d stolen Leon’s heart. Leon had been sneaking out of the palace way more often lately. Thankfully, his brothers were usually in on the act, covering for him without a second thought. This wasn’t his first rodeo, and now that Vernard had pointed out Leon’s newfound free time, he chuckled at the whole situation.

“I guess I can’t hide anything from you guys, huh?” Leon replied nonchalantly.

“Well, your face gives it away,” Yves said matter-of-factly. “You’re planning to spend half your birthday with her, aren’t you?” Licht added casually, making Leon shrug. He wasn’t quite sure what his next move would be.

“If you stick around here, you’ll never find out, will you?” Vernard said firmly. “The longer you waste time, the more likely me and Mr. Sariel will change our minds.” Leon laughed again, “Alright, alright, I’m outta here.” He straightened up and headed over to Vernard, who was lounging in the doorway. “Catch you guys tonight,” he called as he walked out, leaving his brothers and the rest of the faction mulling over what their king was really up to.

“Are you being a bit too easy on him lately, Vernard?” Yves asked, clearly waiting for some kind of explanation.

“Let him be, Yves. You know why,” Jin replied, a grin creeping on his face. “I’m actually curious to see how things play out between Leon and that young lady.” Yves frowned. “I’m kind of worried… you remember what happened with…”

“I’ll make sure that kind of thing doesn’t happen again, Yves,” Vernard said, his voice steady despite his gaze drifting off as if he was lost in thought.

Leon didn’t need to hunt for her anymore; he knew exactly where to find her. She was probably up to her usual antics, either serenading the streets with her violin or playing the “bird lady,” scattering crumbs of bread for the birds. The Plaza Fountain popped into his head—their spot since day one. Whenever they wanted to catch up, they’d meet there. “Just as I thought… the bird lady mode,” he chuckled to himself, but his laughter faded when he spotted what was really going on. Instead of feeding the usual flock of pigeons, she was petting a sleek black crow that seemed to have swooped right in next to her, its feathers nicely mirroring her outfit. Normally, crows were known for their annoying caws, but here she was treating it like a loyal pet.

“When you do a solid for a crow, like giving it food, it’ll remember you, and soon enough, it'll come back with gifts,” she said, her voice carrying across the plaza. She knew he was standing there without even turning around; he had become a constant in her life, a presence she could sense even without seeing him.

“Well, that’s news to me,” Leon replied, taking slow steps toward her. Watching her with that crow was oddly fascinating, but he knew he had to be careful—he didn’t want to scare it off like he did with the pigeons last time. Suddenly, the crow hopped closer, eyeing him with an inquisitive tilt of its head, and for a brief moment, Leon thought he was being sized up by a bird. But Romarin stood up abruptly, causing the crow to take off. “Hey, it’s your fault this time, not mine!” he said, trying to play innocent. Romarin took a step closer, looking at him with a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “I didn’t scare it off; it probably went to fetch one of its shiny treasures for me again.”

“Again?” Leon raised an eyebrow, realizing this wasn’t the first time. Romarin nodded, “I stumbled upon the little fellow during one of my itineraries and decided to share some lunch. Ever since then, it's been sticking around, bringing me little trinkets like pebbles or bottle caps.” A smile crept onto his face, even if he couldn’t help but feel a little left out. “So, what you’re saying is that you give more attention to the crow than you do to me? What does that say about you, hmmm?” he teased, a warm light in his tone. She rolled her eyes in mock annoyance. “Seriously? Jealous of a bird? Talking about childish.”

“So, what’s the plan for today? You gonna put on a show for everyone to see how much you like me and keep up the act?” she shot back with a smirk, but there was a hint of truth in her sarcasm. “Actually, no,” he replied, keeping his tone serious, which made her smile waver just a bit. “There’s something I want to say, but… not here,” he whispered, gently nodding as he extended his hand. “You can come with me or not; it’s totally up to you.”

Romarin stared at him hard, trying to read his expression. After all their time together, she thought she had Leon figured out—the man who admired her music and loved to tease her. But now, the playful vibe was melting away, leaving just a serious, sincere figure, and suddenly making her heart race with curiosity over what he had to say. She caught sight of his smile fading slightly, which nudged her to make a decision. With a quick inhale, she slipped her hand into his. “You really are persuasive, aren’t you?”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” he said, intertwining their fingers. Glancing down at their hands, Leon’s expression shifted, a fleeting frown crossing his face as if something had just struck him. “Leon?” she asked softly, gripping his hand tighter. He looked back at her, forcing a smile before leading her away from the plaza, pulling her along into the unknown.

“Whoa!!” Romarin exclaimed, astonished by the view before her, taking a few steps closer. “Careful there or you’ll wipe out,” Leon chuckled, catching her off-guard. She shot him a disapproving glance. “I’m not that clumsy, you know!” Her attention was quickly drawn back to the breathtaking panorama. Leon had decided to bring her to a high hill where you could take in the entire capital from above. He moved beside her, and Romarin broke the silence, “How’d you know I hadn’t found this spot yet?” Leon shrugged, “I didn't, but hey, guess I'm lucky I brought you here. Your reaction's totally worth it.”

Romarin rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile as she continued to gaze at the scene. “You mentioned there was something you wanted to tell me.” Leon nodded, his tone calm, “Yeah, today’s my birthday.” “Oh really?” she raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Happy birthday, old man! How many candles are you blowing out this year?” Leon shot back playfully, “Not old enough, thankfully.” he shot back with a grin, and they both laughed. “And you expect me to play a tune for you on your special day?” she teased. “Please?” Leon replied, a thoughtful look on his face. “Hmph, just remember, I don’t play for free. Every song has its price.”

Yet, beneath their lighthearted banter, there was an unmistakable tension. “That’s not all you wanted to say, is it?” Romarin asked, her eyebrows knitting in concern. “You didn’t drag me out here just to share your birthday, did you?” Leon sighed, “You’re sharper than I thought.” He finally looked at her,

“Ever heard of ‘slaves’?” Romarin’s eyes widened in surprise. “What’s that got to do with anything? Why’s that coming up now?” “So, you know what they're about, huh?” Leon cut her off, leaving her staring at him, her expression shifting from confusion to realization. In that moment, she dropped her gaze from the view and focused solely on the man standing beside her. The air between them grew heavy, and silence filled the space for what felt like an eternity.

The two of them sat on the hilltop, gazing down at the town below, the wind playing with their hair as it carried their unspoken thoughts. Leon had braced himself for Romarin to call him a liar, to scoff at the wild story he was about to share. But to his surprise, she didn’t. She just listened, her expression serious, without cutting him off. “Who would’ve thought?” Romarin finally said softly, breaking the silence. “That you’d go from being seen as a worthless slave to the impressive guy sitting next to me?” Her voice was gentle, but her gaze stayed fixed on the ground. “The life I have now, it cost a single coin... a moment I never dreamed I’d see as a kid.”

“Who else knows about this?” she asked quietly, her curiosity piqued. Leon shrugged, “Everyone. A knight from the palace bought me, remember?” The irritation on Romarin’s face was immediate upon hearing ‘bought.’ “People’s lives have really become that cheap, huh? It’s unbelievable how thoughtless they are.” Leon couldn’t help but chuckle at her fierce expression, but she quickly cut him off, “Why did you choose to share this with me today?” His laughter faded as he took a deep breath, staring off into the distance. “Everyone celebrates my birthday as ‘Leon’, the guy who got this name and date. But who am I, really? Just a slave who doesn’t even know when he was born, who his parents are, or what his real name is…”

Once again, silence wrapped around them like a blanket. This wasn’t the first time he had peeled back the layers of his secret, and he knew her reaction would be as predictable as it was with ... Not Romarin, or his brothers -this was the moment he had chosen to reveal his truth to someone he trusted deeply, again...

"Listen…" Leon's voice wavered, tinged with urgency. “I know you might not get it, but I’ve got to spill this out. It’s been festering inside me for ages, and it’s like a weight that just won’t lift.” But Romarin sat there, her jade eyes averted, silent and still, both of them caught in a moment that felt heavy with unspoken truths.

“To be thrown into a world where you're adrift, to have everyone else charting your course while you’re left questioning your own existence… to not even know your roots or where you truly belong…” Romarin’s whisper pierced the stillness. Leon's gaze sharpened, focusing on her as he waited, breath held, for her to go on. “You’re not alone in this. Lucky for you,” she added, the words landing like a stone in his chest. He was taken aback—was it possible that someone else had shared his solitude, his confusion? Could Romarin be experiencing the same kind of existential struggle?

“It feels like you put a lot of trust in me to open up like this,” she remarked finally, turning to him with a calm expression that belied the storm brewing beneath. “What if I told you I was just playing you this whole time?” he countered, a wry edge creeping into his tone. Romarin chuckled softly, the sound both teasing and genuine. “I’ve got a knack for reading people, and you? You’re definitely not the type to lie about something like this.” His heart swelled with a mix of surprise and gratitude, and he flashed her a relieved smile. “Thanks for believing me... thank you for listening.”

On a whim, Romarin set her violin case down and pulled out her instrument, slipping into her familiar pose. Leon quirked an eyebrow, amusement dancing across his features. “Didn’t you say you don’t play for free?” She shot him a sidelong glance, a smirk playing on her lips. “There’s a difference between playing for cash and playing for sanity.” And with that, her bow glided over the strings, unleashing a serene melody that hung in the air like a balm. As Leon watched her—no audience but him—he felt the gravity of her notes sinking deep into his soul. “Happy birthday, Leon,” she offered, her voice woven into her playing. “And I’m not talking about the person the world knows, but the real you, the one staring right at me.”

In a heartbeat, the scene blurred, pulling into a reverie of faded memories. The landscape shifted like an old film reel, revealing two small figures: one listening, the other pouring their heart into the music. A boy cloaked in shadows, hair as dark as the midnight sky and clothes worn and frayed. Beside him, a girl stood with locks of white like freshly fallen snow, her presence both delicate and strong. Despite the differences in their appearances, the song created an invisible bond that had somehow weathered time, whispering promises of a connection that might be revived through the very same tune.

~ 𝑬𝑵𝑫

01.08.2024 ❤️🦁

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

Soup?-Kaguya X Reader

“Soup?” you asked as you slid down the side of the wall and next to an equally tired Kaguya.

Kaguya nodded before responding, “Soup.”

The two of you sat there for a while, letting the sun rise as the long night came to an end.

“Kaguya?”

“Yes?”

“Delivery?”

“Absolutely.”

The two of you groaned in tandem as you both stumbled to your feet.

A few moments later, the two of you were shuffling through the streets of the slowly waking city.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed others who spent the night out stumbling off into the sunrise just like the two of you.

Like usual, you didn’t pay any mind to them and in turn they didn’t pay any mind to you.

Soon, the two of you arrived at the place the two of you shared and as usual Kaguya grumbled about there being too many stairs as the two of you made the trek upwards.

A few moments later, you slumped onto the couch with Kaguya falling into the spot next to you.

Wordlessly, you reached for your phone on the side table, sending the request for soup to one of the businesses owned by the Licht Kreis.

“It’ll be here in an hour.” you stated through a deep yawn.

“What are we supposed to do until then?” Kaguya muttered, her eyes beginning to droop shut.

“The usual I guess. Clean up and get some sleep before eating.” you responded, your own tiredness making itself known now that you’ve stopped moving.

Kaguya let out a groan and in response you let out a hum of agreement.

After a few moments of moaning and groaning in complaint, the two of you stood once more and stumbled towards the bathroom.

The second the door closed behind you and her you both began to remove the dirty clothes that seemed to be suck to your bodies.

A long time ago, Kaguya would’ve been putting you through hell with teasing remarks and little pranks at a time like this.

Now however, the two of you knew each other inside and out.

Simply put, there was no need for modesty between the two of you.

Slipping past Kaguya as she slipped out of her leggings, you turned the knob on the shower, making scalding hot water fall from the shower head.

A few moments later, the both of you stood under the falling water, leaning on one another to make sure the both of you stood under the shower head and felt tense and overworked muscles begin to loosen. 

Kaguya let out a sigh of satisfaction and pleasure.

You could not blame her.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Kaguya sat across from you, dressed in an old, too large T-Shirt and a pair of sweatpants, a bowl of soup in front of her and deep bags under her eyes.

As she lifted her spoon to her mouth, her eyes met yours and she asked the same question as always.

“Did something catch your eye?”

And as always, you responded truthfully.

“Only the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“Oh? And where might she be?” Kaguya asked, a cat-like smile on her face.

“Right in front of me.” You told her truthfully, just like you always did.

[ikemenlibrary]

The Beast in the Nighttime (Ikemen Prince)

Pairing: Licht Klein x MC (Belle) Summary: The beast that has lain dormant for so long finally allows himself to feel something.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Angst, pining, general Licht and Nokto Lore spoilers, any warnings that can come from Licht's route can also be implied here

A note from the author: A quick thank you to @readerinsertfanfiction and @justtuesdays for beta reading this even when you're not in the fandom and letting me know when things didn't make sense LOL. This takes place the first night Licht keeps watch over Belle in his route, based on something he said in his dramatic route ending. The thought of him sitting there pining after her night after night, the conflicting thoughts that swirled around in his head and heart was too much for me to handle, and I needed to write it out.

She was innocent. 

Almost too innocent, if Licht had any say in the matter. And now he did have a say, since he was designated to be Belle’s bodyguard during her stay in the palace. Leon, Chevalier, and Sariel had all came upon the agreement that he was best suited to keep watch over her and although Licht knew he could’ve refused, could’ve kept her held back at arms length, there was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that wouldn’t go away until he agreed to keep her safe.

He didn’t trust his brothers with her; she was so innocent, so naive, like a lamb in a field munching on grass while a horde of carnivores circled her menacingly. A quick flash of eye contact was all it would take before one of them pounced on her, ready to ravage in the dark confines of the night.

At least Licht could contain himself.

That’s what he told himself, and yet, as she tossed and turned in her bed only a few feet away, Licht found himself wishing he could close the distance between them and bury himself into the comforting warmth of her arms. He wanted to feel the compassion she had coursing through her veins and although it was selfish, he wanted to confide in her about what had happened with Mama when he was a child. Maybe then - finally - she would understand why he hated her, why he did things to keep her far away from him. She would understand why he was a man who wasn’t meant to be adored, but a man sentenced to a life of solitude and atonement. But more importantly, Licht secretly hoped she would hold him to her, bathe him in her sunlight, and offer to help carry the burden that he’s kept alone all these years.

And that thought made him sick to his stomach.

Licht Klein was a man of his word, and he promised he’d never let anyone get close enough to him to be hurt again. So nothing else would happen like all those years ago, on that fateful night when his family was torn apart by his own bloodstained hands. So why was it that every time he pushed her away, the pained look on her face only made him feel worse? Why was it that every time she sent a bright smile in his direction that his heart and stomach twisted, making Licht want to return to his dark room and cry himself to sleep, like he’d spent countless nights before when he was younger. He hadn’t cried in years.

No matter what he did in regards to Belle was safe; being near her was painful, and so was being away from her. 

Licht hadn’t been so reliant on someone’s company since he and Nokto were little, carefree and happy before Mama- No, no don’t think about it. Don’t cry. You don’t deserve to cry after what you did. And so he blinked away the tears that had sought solace in his eyes, and instead opted to let his gaze fall upon her. The rise and fall of her chest was almost comforting as he matched his breathing to hers, until his mind started wandering once again, to a conversation he had partaken in with Rio and Belle just a few hours before.

Once it had been decided that Licht was to guard Belle every night, he had told himself that he’d stay outside, only acknowledging her with a nod and quick eye contact, and then continue on with his duties the next day with nothing else left to say. But she was so insistent that he couldn’t stay outside, using the excuse that she wouldn’t sleep well knowing Licht was standing in the cold hallway all night. Personally, Licht didn’t mind. It wasn’t the worst thing he’s ever done to himself - in fact, he does far, far worse in the dark confines of his bedroom whenever that aching pull in his stomach starts to throb - but, he disliked the thought of her being uncomfortable, and so he had agreed to join her in her room every night.  

Rio had made a comment about how unsavory it was that she was inviting a man into her room every night, and Licht couldn’t forget the way her cheeks flushed and she avoided eye contact, saying it was fine because it was only Licht. She trusted him to not do anything unmentionable, and if she trusted him - if it wasn’t him who was watching over her - then who else would she invite into her room without any thought? He was doing it for her protection, and that was the only reason. Licht was just doing his duty; he was protecting someone he cared about, just as he had done when he shoved Nokto behind them and faced Mama with his blade. It didn’t make him feel any better though, not when these emotions were making him feel as fragile as his caged away heart.

She turned over, restless. Although she would never admit it, Licht knew she didn’t sleep well, her subconscious fretting over the fact he was sitting only a few feet away. That stubborn woman who fought so hard to get him to agree to come into her room, if only so he was comfortable while being on guard, would rather put his comfort over her own, and that realization brought a dull ache to Licht’s chest. This is why he wouldn’t - no, couldn’t - let her get any closer. It only hurt her as much, if not more, than it hurt himself. All he ever did was bring pain to the people he cared about the most.

Just like earlier, he quietly, swiftly, crossed the room. Perching himself on the side of her bed further away from the window - so the moonlight wouldn’t shine on his face and break him out of the trance he was currently in. Just like earlier, he slowly, clumsily, hesitantly moved the hair away from her sweaty forehead, caressing her smooth skin wrinkled with worry and he hastily pushed away the thought creeping in to lean down and kiss away the frown lines where her eyebrows had pinched together. Licht’s voice was soft as he started humming, the song Mama had used to sing to comfort him when he was crying over the pain Nokto took. Nokto took the pain for him, and in turn, Licht cried the tears that Nokto refused to. He used to be quick to laugh, and even quicker to cry, but after Mama died, he realized he didn’t deserve those emotions, and quickly shoved everything he had once felt under lock and key, buried deep inside his chest where the black hole continued to grow each passing day.

Her restless movements stilled as his hand traced from her forehead down to her cheek, and he wished he had taken off his gloves. Licht longed to feel her smooth skin on his worn hands, the hands that didn’t deserve to touch her the way he currently was. The hands that he vowed to never give to anyone else again, lest he brings pain once more. Yet here he was, quickly removing his gloves, his gentle fingers once again ghosting over her cheek. Human contact, after so long. He welcomed it as his heart burned with pain, each of his movements drawing more fire in his chest. He continued humming as he traced the slope of her upturned nose, the same nose that he’d seen her frown at in a mirror as they walked past it in a hallway together. He traced under her eyes, right beneath where her eyelashes lay casting a shadow from the moonglow. He traced her plush lips, a little chapped and raw from being worried in between her teeth over and over again. That simple touch, caused Licht to lose his ability to breathe. This felt too sacred, almost holy, and it wasn’t allowed of a lowly sinner such as himself. 

Licht was no better than Nokto. Here he was, a lonely beast basking in the solace of sleeping prey under the guise of comfort. And yet, Licht couldn’t tear himself away from her, his fingers sliding gently through her long hair, only pausing once like a deer in lamp light, as she nuzzled into his touch, sighing so sweetly in her sleep. And what a sound that was, so blissful, more like music to Licht’s ears than what he’s ever heard before. Now, a stab in his heart, from a sharp blade, at that thought. It was quick, and painless, but what hurt was the pain that he felt after he took his hand away from her, the metaphorical sword extracting as quickly as it pierced, leaving his blood to douse the burning embers engulfing his chest, starting to travel down into his stomach, flinching as the fleeting thought of how Mama must have felt when–.

“Licht?” Her eyes fluttered open, and he stayed still, unashamedly sitting at the side of her bed.

“I thought I heard something, but then I realized you were having a bad dream. I was just checking to make sure you’re okay.” He slid on his gloves, and he was grateful that the moon wasn’t bright enough to highlight the evenly lined scars that traveled up and down his arms. It didn’t stop her from looking on curiously. “If that’s all, go back to sleep.” He added softly, curtly. He removed himself from her bed, standing straight as one of his own soldiers were trained to do. 

“You look…” She trailed off, cocking her head to the side as she studied him. “Are you okay?”

No. “Yes. I was just thinking about how much I hate you. I’m tired and I can’t sleep because I have to guard you.” The flames stilled as she recoiled. The brazen burning started to diminish as she pulled her blankets back up to her chin. Closing herself off to him. “Well, I adore you. Thank you for staying here and protecting me.”

She was still trying. Another burning match was thrown into the flame. “Don’t say stuff like that. It just makes me hate you more.”

“That’s okay. Hate me as much as you want.” She replied, her eyes never leaving him as he made his way back to the small couch tucked against the wall. “It won’t change how I feel.” Why won't you understand that I am doing this for your sake? “Well stop it, and go to sleep.” Licht said, and then as his eyes met her own, his lips quivered into a soft smile, the muscles being stretched after so long of being forced to stay downturned. “Goodnight.” “Goodnight, Licht. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She replied, rolling over and pulling the blanket over her head. She wouldn’t see him once morning came, his nights were now what he had stored away for her. If this wasn’t a punishment sent directly from God, Licht didn’t know what else it could be.

Once again, even though he wasn’t alone, Licht was lonely, just like he thought he wanted, just the way Mama intended.

[gorogues]

Fictober 2024

Prompt number #18 Fanfiction Fandom: Flash Rogues Rating: T – Teen and up Warnings: Injury (concussion), profanity

Day Eighteen: “You always have a plan”

“The Rogues don’t run,” Len always said, but things had gone sideways and they found themselves fleeing anyway.  They’d been ambushed on a job by unseen attackers, who’d fired some beanbag rounds at Len’s head and successfully damaged their primary weapons.

“I’ve got you,” Mark told Len with concern, letting the other man lean on him as they walked.  “Just focus on putting one foot in front of another.”

“We need…we need shelter,” Len said wearily, plagued with blurred vision and struggling to focus.

Axel came running back to the group, only five feet above the ground to keep a lower profile.  “I don’t see anyone up ahead!”

Evan had been fiddling with his broken mirror gun with obvious frustration on his face.  “Whole thing’s rotten, pals.  It’ll need tae be entirely rebuilt in ma lab.”

“Shelter,” Len repeated, so Mark squinted at their surroundings, noticing a shed or some sort of outbuilding nearby.  Without a word, he steered their injured leader towards it, and there was a stroke of good luck: it was unlocked and there was a switch to flick on some fritzing lightbulbs.

“What is this place?  And who the hell knew to attack us strategically like that?” Axel wondered as they trooped inside and Mark helped Len to sit down.  There were a couple of lawnmowers and some other landscaping equipment around them, so it seemed like it was probably a groundskeeper’s shed.

“Might be a reflective surface in here fur an escape,” Evan suggested, busying himself in a search.

And then the building went dark.

“Uh…what was that?  Who turned out the lights?” Axel asked, looking around and seeing nothing but darkness.  There were no windows set into the building.

“Nae good,” Evan fretted.  “We’re gawn nowhere wi’oot any reflection!”

“They must have followed us.  Cold, what do we do?” Mark asked worriedly, and Len groaned with exhaustion and a pounding headache.  He was dizzy and struggling to remain conscious for fear of a concussion.

“Don’t know.”

“You’ve got to have a plan.  You always have a plan!” Axel told him desperately.

“Mirror gun, cold gun, and weather wand are busted, right?” Len said, doing his best to concentrate.  Mark nodded, but then realized they were in darkness and corrected himself.

“Yes.”

“B-best bet is to make some light and try to escape that way.  We’ll get clobbered in a fight without weapons,” Len finally suggested.

It was then that they heard the movements of multiple people around the shed.

“FBI!  Hands up now!” a voice barked, and Mark swore under his breath.

“Give up before somebody else gets hurt, guys,” a more familiar voice added, and this time everybody swore.

“James fuckin’ Jesse..!” Axel exclaimed, rifling through his bag to find an explosive toy or anything to throw at his vengeful predecessor.  He didn’t relish the thought of ending up in the first Trickster’s custody.

“No wonder they knew exactly how to target us,” Len muttered, though at least he felt slightly better now that he didn’t have to focus his wavering vision in the dark.  “We need light.  Now.”

“I got sparklers,” Axel offered.

“That’d be risky, since the low licht would gies us a poor reflection” Evan said skeptically.  “We might get lost and no’ be able to find our way oot.”

“We don’t got a lot of options.  Try it,” Len ordered, so Axel pulled out every sparkler he had in his bag of tricks and pulled their tabs to light them all at once.

Then a battering ram struck the door, causing it to shudder inward.

Evan frantically searched for a reflective surface within the shed, rubbing his hands over the lawnmowers and equipment to uncover a potential shine under the caked grass and dirt.  But everything appeared to have a dull matte finish.

“Wait!  I’ve got a mirror!” Mark suddenly remembered, pulling a small compact mirror out of his pocket, and Evan snatched it away to hold next to the sparklers which were almost out of fuel.  He concentrated, angling the mirror and lights for optimum reflection, and shoved Len inside the portal.  Then Mark, and then Axel.

The door broke down, flooding the shed with light, and Evan grinned at the invading FBI agents.

“Awright, efters.”

Then he too was gone.

“Dammit!” James growled, throwing his gun to the ground.  “We need to do a better job of incapacitating the Mirror Master next time!”

“Where’d that mirror come from, anyway?” Axel asked as they got Len to lie down on the couch with a cover for his eyes and a huge ice pack for his head.

“Oh, well, I forgot that I keep it as a back-up escape hatch for our emergency situations,” Mark answered as nonchalantly as possible, a bit uncomfortable.  Nobody needed to know how often he checked his hair, after all.

[violettduchess]

chevalier and ex-lovers for the angst promt? that seems like it would be really interesting considering his route. thank you for reading this ask

A/N: With some encouragement and brainstorming (thank you @lorei-writes 💜) I finished this!

An addition to my Broken Heartstrings series

Chevalier x Reader

WC: 1.3k

The crowds that have gathered in the streets are humming like a hive full of excited bees. Some small children are pushing their way beneath elbows and through knees, trying to get to the front. Others are being hoisted up onto the shoulders of grown ups who shift their weight from foot to foot, as eager as the children to get a glimpse.

You can see them all from your spot, perched on the wide windowsill of your bedroom. Precarious as it may be, you’ve pushed open the window, leaving nothing between you and the view of the street below. It’s a joyful scene, one of breathless anticipation as the townsfolk wait for their king to ride through on this, the anniversary of his coronation. The king that you chose a year ago. The man who had challenged your spirit and won your heart.

But instead of sitting by his side, proudly looking down at all the beaming faces, you’re alone at your window, stomach in knots at the thought of seeing Chevalier Michel again, even from a distance.

Just thinking his name sends your mind down well-trodden paths of anguish and heartbreak....

What had seemed so solid, so strong, had unraveled in a single moment. You didn’t even have the chance to anticipate something was wrong. He had gone to investigate suspicious activity at the border. He had returned, white clothing running red with blood that was not his. Still, you had run to him, concern an engine that spurred you forward at lightning speed….and he had turned away, turned his shoulder towards you. And then he had told you, in a voice as chilled as winter’s edge, to leave. 

Leave, he repeated at the palace gates, his hand gesturing for you to move away.

Leave, he repeated as you stood in his bedroom, questions shooting from your mouth like wayward fireworks, bright and burning and frantic. 

Leave was all he said, his voice a blade as dangerous and final as his sword.

His betrayal of your trust was a sudden cracking of ice, a fall into freezing water that left you speechless, breathless, and utterly broken. All the possibilities for the future, all the countless daydreams. All the nights spent talking, sharing, weaving a relationship from the threads of your heartstrings snapped in a blink by silver shears, cold as the blue of his eyes when all your wild thoughts boiled down to a single question, your voice trembling like a leaf in a cruel, sudden wind: 

Why?

Leave was his only reply.

And so you fled the palace, the beautiful rose gardens, the confused and concerned questions in the eyes of his brothers. You fled the place that had become home to return to the life you had known before, except it didn’t fit as it once did. Something was missing, something that ached in the night, that chased sleep away from the spinning hurricane of your mind. A longing for someone that you shouldn’t want, someone who was willing to drive a stake into the beating heart of your love without hesitation. Or explanation.

A combined gasp and cheer rises up from the crowd as the royal caravan approaches and tugs you back to the present. The other princes ride upon their horses, smiling and waving. Well, Licht isn’t exactly smiling and something about his somber expression is so familiar, a constant in a world turned upside down, that it actually brings a smile to your lips, a sad, watery thing but a smile nonetheless. Jin and Nokto beam brightly, waving and nodding, especially to the women who meet their gazes with excited hands pressed to their hearts. Leon is every inch the prince, flawlessly dividing his attention between both sides of the street, his smile open and wide. He was always so kind.  A wave of bittersweet emotion washes through you as you remember the time he would take to explain things to you, to help you find your way, to listen,

But he is not the one your heart chose. 

And behind Leon and his black stallion rides the King on his destrier of purest snow white. The sight of him, tall and proud, one gloved hand on the reins, the other casually on the pommel of his sword freezes the breath in your lungs. Your fingers curl into your palm unbidden, nails biting deep into flesh gone numb. Beside him, Clavis is all flashy smiles and waves, golden eyes scanning the crowd to award a nod or tilt of the head to anyone he wants to feel special. His head tilts up as his gaze sweeps across the many open windows and people waving handkerchiefs, some embroidered roses, some embroidered with tigers in honor of the king’s crest.

You, still as a beam of moonlight, stand out amid the riotous cheering.

Of course Clavis notices you. In a heartbeat, your eyes lock with his and something inside you shifts as you are flooded with the memories of the many laughs, the teasing, but most of all, the way he supported you through loving his brother. He knows what a difficult path that is to walk. He has been walking it his whole life.

He offers you something no one else in the crowd gets. His face, always adept at schooling itself into whatever mask it need be, is filled with genuine emotion at the sight of you. He offers you a smile, soft and sad and real.

Somehow, even from a distance, he has still found a way to comfort you.

Your spirit is bolstered, just a little, and you manage a smile in return, raising a hand in greeting.

And then Chevalier notices his brother’s upturned face and his own head moves, his gaze rising to see what has Clavis’s attention.

There you are, up in the window, framed like a beautiful portrait, smiling, but even he can see it doesn’t quite reach your eyes, like a garden dappled in shadows. Your hand is raised, that hand he knows intimately. He knows the motion of your fingers as they delicately turn the page of a book. He knows the strength in them when you grip a horse’s reins. And he knows their softness, the tenderness with which they can touch, the feel of your fingertips as they trace the line of his jaw. The eagerness with which they press into the back of his neck when he kisses you-

Kissed you.

When he kissed you.

Because he will never know their touch again. Nor your kiss. Nor your smile. Even now, as your gaze meets his, that smile fades, your hand slowly lowers, curling against your heart like a wounded animal, seeking shelter.

And he knows he did that. He killed the warmth of you, the joy, the whispering sunshine of your love.

And he would do it again.

Because as pained as you look now, somehow he knows it would never compare to the pain of being in love with someone who could so deeply disappoint you. He learned that lesson the day he rode to the border, when he killed as mechanically as clockwork, without remorse, without regard. How easily his blade drank the blood of young and old. He saw only red, felt only the jolt of sword through flesh and turned to seek it again and again.

You claimed there was good in him, there was mercy and the capacity to love.

And for a brief moment in time, he had believed you. Until that day.

And rather than watch your love for him slowly wither as you learned you were wrong, that he was nothing more than a brutal beast, he made a clean cut. Sharp, painful but without a doubt in his mind the correct thing to do.

He could not watch the light in your eyes go out. Because he loved you.

Loves you.

Because he still loves you.

Chevalier’s pale head turns away from you and the procession continues.

Slowly, breathing against the burning ache in your chest, the broken pieces of your heart slicing into wounds that have never fully healed, you lean forward and pull the window closed. 

There is nothing left to see.

Tagging: @xbalayage @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 @greatstarlightstarfish @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 @ozalysss

[etheries1015]

Based off a line Licht says during Gilberts route

Extremely short Licht x reader (ironic, isn't it?)

"...I just couldn't die," Licht said to you after yves had explained the part Licht had recklessly played on bloodstained rose day, looking down at his hands with a look of frustration twisted upon his features. Yves gave him the same look of pity as you did, your eye brows furrowing as you made your way towards the white haired male.

"Licht," you said, placing your hand gently atop of his. The movement gave him pause and caused him to flinch ever so slightly, looking up at you in surprise with the same frown he held tightly onto.

"Perhaps that's a blessing you have yet to fully unwravel yet. I, for one, am grateful you're here." Those small, seemingly simple words widened his ruby red eyes before his gaze averting from yours. His heart skipped a beat, tightening in his chest at your sudden display of concern for his mental well being. He had no response, only giving a slight nod and pursing his lips.

Why did you have to be so bright...?

[welp-back-on-my-bs]

Idk how the FUCK i did all of this but-

The spirits got me... so platonic yandere yeves x morgan au

Yves was visiting his territory when he saw someone being thrown from a biulding.

"Stay out, Obsidian scum!" Could easily be heard.

Yves stepped from his carridge to see what was going on. He found what looked like a girl, curled up on the ground, clearly in pain.

"May I help you?"

The girl paid no mind to him, trying to stand up. That's when he saw she was drenched, bruised, and bleeding.

"Please, come with me." He was quick to take off his coat and wrap it around the girl. She didn't resist. she just did what was needed of her.

He took her to a nearby villa he was staying at, starting to take care of the clearly scared girl.

Yves took it upon himself to take care of her. He gave her some spare clothes, she asked for men's clothing instead of women's so he supplied Licht's spare clothes. He had a doctor make sure she was physically well. Only to find out she had a bad cold and deep wounds. One that was odd in nature and would affect how she moved. So he took care of her as she rested. He demaned it of her even whenever she tried to get up and do something. He was there to lay her back down.

"... what's your name...?" the girl softly asked, holding a pillow close.

"Oh, where are my manners, I'm Yevs Kloss."

"...Kloss..."

"Yes, it's a name of Obsidian nobility..." he sighed a bit, "but you're also from there, right?"

"Mhm... I... I'm... Morgan... Solace... Morgan Solace..." she smiled to herself, as if likeing the sound of her name. As if she heard it for the first time.

"Well, it is an honor to meet you, Morgan." He smiled at her, reaching out to comfort her, until she shrunk away.

'Obsidian hurt her too... didn't they...? Clearly...'

Yeves frowned softly but pulled his hand away. "Well, I want to be sure you're safe and well taken care of... oh! You can be my attendant!"

"You would want ME as your attendant...?"

"Yes, I'm sure you have a lot of skills, and I'll help you where needed. Some of my brothers have one, and they have been helpful to them. I think it will be beneficial to us both."

Morgan seemed to think on it before nodding. "Okay... I'll be your attendant."

Yevs couldn't help but smile. He wouldn't have to be alone. He brought good fortune to someone.

Once Morgan had healed enough to move on their own (they weren't a woman, but something in-between as they explained it), the duo returned to Rohdinite palace.

Yves introduveing Morgan to his brothers as his attendant shocked everyone, to say the least.

"My, my, how fasinateing. So you've taken in someone who has sought asylum from Obsidian? That isn't going to do you much good in afraid Yevs" Clavis chuckled, pointing out what should be obvious. "She di-"

"They. And I'm sure there is a good reason why they didn't go through legal channels. Obsidian has been cut off from the world. Their people have been starving and suffering."

"What was your occupation before coming to Rohdinite?" Chalaver coldly asked.

"... Military wife... before that I worked as a slaes person with my father..." Morgan replied, clearly feeling uncomfortable by all the stares.

"You haven't seen the wounds on them. They were clearly hurt often by their ex-husband by how deep and black some were."

"Well, Yves doesn't have the best reputation among the nobility in the first place. But, the people who were once a part of Obsidian and defected would sure respect it. Didn't the same happen with you, Clavis?"

"True, I do attract the most amusing of people. But we first need as much information we can get from... them was it?"

Morgan nodded. "I'll answer questions to the best of my abilities."

So, many questions were asked of Morgan. Some clearly shook them up, but Yves was there to comfort them and give them some tea and sweets to help. After all, they were his to take care of as a prince and leader.

After the questions were over, Chalaver got up and left without another word.

Clavis sighed. "So dramatic, he must be missing that boyfriend of his so badly," he chuckled. "I'll send Cyran to meet you later. I'm sure you both will get along amazingly. " Clavis then took his leave

To Yves' surprise, Nokto quietly left as well.

'At least he didn't try to flirt with them...'

Now, it was just the domestic faction in the room. It made Yves a little nervous.

"Well, I'm glad to see that you got someone to help Yves. I hope you won't mind that things with us aren't that organized, Morgan."

"Oh- I completely understand that. Sometimes, when things are clean, you can just as easily lose them as when they are messy!"

Jin chuckled. "I think Yves found the perfect assistant for himself so far."

"It seems you have also taken to Yevs baking." Leon added with a chuckle.

Yevs could help but be proud of the person he found and helped.

"Well, yeah, it's amazing. If you ever need an assistant in the kitchen, I'd be okay with helping you. " Morgan smiled weakly at Yves, but it was so genuine. He was proud to have gotten that smile after all the pain they've been through. He earned that smile.

He wasn't going to let anyone take it away from them.

Morgan took easily to the work that Yevs gave them. They mastered paperwork, they were an amazing baker themself, they managed to get along with Licht!

But he also noticed that they had hard days. Days where they never left their room. Days they wouldn't speak a word. Times where they looked so scared and had to leave. Times where the only person they trusted was him.

Of course, he took the time to help them out, styling their hair and jewelry so that they both could look their best. Bakeing both of their stress away before eating away at it.

Not to mention, ever since Morgan came along, he was less unlucky. He didn't fall into Clavis' traps. He didn't step on a cat, break a mirror, and trip on the stairs. Nothing. It was like... they were a good luck charm.

He was glad to keep them safe, and in turn, they listened to him. They stood up to nobles for him. They helped him connect to Obsidian and taught him things he never thought he would know.

When Luke came to the palace, he seemed weird around Morgan. Yves didn't care much for that. Luke should respect his hard-working assistant.

He didn't like how often he found Luke not too far behind Morgan. What was he looking for from them. Some staff allways seemed to be near them often aswell.

Some were known to be from Obsidian.

So, Yves took it upon himself to dismiss them. He wasn't going to let go of Morgan. Not his good luck charm.

Then, the time came for the Goodwill Gala between Rohdinite and Bennonite. He couldn't wait to introduce Morgan to Keith. He knew that they would get along amazingly!

"Introduceing Morgan Solace"

There they were, dressed to the nines thanks to Yves help. He couldn't be more proud of them and how far they came.

Then. Yves bad luck struck.

Morgan bumped into Prince Silvio of all the people they could've run into. It had to be him. He was just as bad as Nokto and Jin. Maybe even worse!

The way he touched them. Smiled at them. Talked to them. It was dreadful. That is way to treat his lucky charm and best friend. They deserve the best. Prince Silvio was one of the worst.

Yves got closer to see what the two were talking about.

"You're saying Prince Yves made those clothes? He is more skilled than people give him credit." Silvio staed, amazed. As he should be.

"Yeah, he is kind and talented. I don't know where I got so lucky having a boss like him"

"Yeah, by the way. Where did you learn all that business stuff? I doubt Prince Yves taught you that"

Morgan looked uncomfortable and saddend by the question. So Yves took that moment to save them, and imedeately fell between them.

Morgan was quick to worry over Yves and helped him up before apologizing to Silvio and taking him to the infirmary to check him over.

'Oh Morgan, you're too kind.'

Yves smiled at his small victory as Morgan checked him over for wounds.

'Such a kind person shouldn't be hurt by a brute like that...'

Morgan finished checking Yves over before relaxing. "You're not at all hurt. Which is good-"

"Alright, I am going to rest for a bit, though. I want you to go and talk to Keith Howell, okay? He is a good friend of Licht and I, so if you need him pointed out, go to him."

Yves needed to... talk to a certain prince about them.

So Morgan left, unaware of what was going on in Yves head.

------------------------------------------

BAM!

The door to the infirmary was kicked open, and there stood Prince Silvio.

"Ya needed somethin'?"

"I need you to stay far away from MY attendant."

"Morgan, right. That's what has got you so worked up? Us talking?" Silvio couldn't help but snort. "Well, maybe I'll make them mine faster"

"You. Wouldnt. Dare." Yves glared at the prince.

"Would I? We'll see, " he smirked and left the room. Clearly on a mission now.

Yves needsd to go, and fast. Who knows what Silvio was planning? Who knows what he would do to them after he gets his hands on them. They have been hurt enough.

By the time Yves made it back to the ballroom, everyone's eyes were drawn to the dance floor. So, when Yves followed them, he saw it.

Morgan Solace, dancing with Gilbert. Von. Obsidian.

The living symbol of both of their pain.

'Let. Them. Go'

He couldn't move.

'Let. Them. Go.'

He couldn't speak.

What seemed like hours went by. The two clearly talked about something as they danced. Both graceful moveing concisely and slowly.

That eternity finally ended when the music did. When Morgan bowed to Gilbert before sneaking off.

He knew Gilbert would ignore him like everyone else... everyone but Morgan... so, he went after them instead.

He found Morgan in their room, curled up in blankets and sobbing.

"Morgan...?" That bastard. He should pay for what he did to them.

"Y-yves!" They jumped, trying to dry their tears but failed.

He frowned softly and went over to Morgan to just hold them. They let themself sob into his arms.

It took everything within him not to go up to Gilbert and kill him then and there.

But he needed to take care of Morgan right now, revenge can be done later.

[chirp-a-chirp]

Clavis Lelouch • Clavis x Emma • Tags: Fluff; Crack; Pranks; Mischief; Cat-puns • Word Count: ~1900 • Triggers: None • Brief appearances by Chevalier, Cyran, and Sariel

Title: Cat-astrophe

Description: It’s Clavis. Of course there’s chaos! This time, in feline form 😸

For @katriniac as a part of the Ikemen Prince Exchange hosted by @ikemenlibrary and @saeyoungs-sunflower 😊

Cat-inspired Clavis drawing (aka Catvis) done by @aide-falls

…

“This doesn’t look like a good idea.”

“You’re right, my dear. It’s a perfectly wicked one!” Clavis flicked a finger at the glass bottle he was holding. The bottle contained a light purple liquid that bubbled and fizzled like champagne. It appeared benign, even pleasant looking, until one looked directly above at the ceiling and the soot that covered it. Emma opened a window to let out the plumes of smoke that lingered.

“Most liquids don’t spontaneously burst into flames.” Emma coughed pointedly, moving her hands in a fanning motion to push the smoke outside.

“Unless Licht is cooking, haha!”

“Will you tell me what it is you’re trying to make at least?”

Clavis put down the bottle. “And where would the fun in that be?” He smirked, a look of utter delight on his face. “I DO have the antidote to this—well, most of it.” Clavis gestured to a second glass bottle with a light bluish tint to it. Emma’s eyes widened.

“Could it be that my lovely lover is worried for me?” Clavis tweaked Emma’s nose playfully. “It’s not as if this liquid will make me disappear or anything!” His eyes flashed, with a hint of challenge to them. “And even if it did, I’m sure you’d find me.”

…

The next day, Clavis was gone.

His disappearance had not been noticed until late morning, when a terrified palace butler was forced to wake up Chevalier instead of Clavis. None of the princes seemed particularly bothered at this development. As Emma made inquiries, their reactions were varied—relief from Yves (Licht and I can have a tea party uninterrupted!); mockery laced with pity from Nokto (you’re getting a day off from him; isn’t that a good thing?); and the equivalent of a princely shrug from Leon (I haven’t seen smoke since yesterday, so I’m sure he’s fine.). But, they all agreed on one thing—they hadn’t seen Clavis.

Emma entered Chevalier’s private library hoping he’d know what was going on. She placed a rare romance book from Jade on a side table near where Chevalier sat reading. There was an approving nod as elegant fingers picked up the book. He offered a rather unusual hint.

“My fool of a brother lost one of his nine lives today.”

Emma tilted her head. “Can you elaborate on that?”

“Do you have the next installment of this book?”

“It won’t be published until next month!”

“Then our conversation ends now, Simpleton.” The corner of Chevalier’s mouth lifted as he placed the book in his lap. As Emma left the room, she heard Chevalier say one more thing.

“He’s not complicated. He needs something from you, but cannot bring himself to admit it.”

Chevalier’s words echoed in Emma’s head as she headed toward Clavis’ bedroom. She took out a key from her dress pocket, heart lurching at the breach of privacy.

The room was virtually the same as it was when she was with Clavis yesterday. Emma knew he saw this place as a shrine to his failures, a testament to mediocrity. But, she saw much more—it was a place of studiousness, ingenuity, and childish delight. Books on law, pharmacology, science, and philosophy were neatly arranged on his bookshelf. One of the middle shelves held a cup with the phrase #1 worst emblazoned on it—a gag gift Emma had bought Clavis when they first became a couple. She grabbed a book at random and noted with a smile that the book was highlighted in numerous colors, with notes in the margins about various herbs that could be used for different smoke traps.

Emma placed the book back on the shelf and glanced at various pieces of paper attached to the wall above his writing desk. The papers contained lists with the number of traps discovered by other people. Various palace staff and princes had tick marks next to their names, each tick mark indicating a trap they had fallen into. Yves encompassed one entire sheet of paper by himself, and to Emma’s surprise, Chevalier had one mark next to his name. She’d have to ask Clavis about THAT story.

But Emma had to find him first. She sat at his desk chair, feeling lonely. She looked down at her hands—Clavis had held her hand so often in their adventures; she now felt empty without it.

I know you feel like you’re not enough Clavis. But you are. Where are you?

“Meow?”

Emma turned her head at the sound. A beautiful long-haired cat emerged from behind Clavis’ couch. Its paws, the tip of its tail, and its chest were light grey while the rest of its body was purple. The cat’s eyes were golden and sparkling with mischief.

“Are you lost little one?” The cat jumped in Emma’s lap, nesting between her thighs as if it thought it belonged there. “You’re not the only one who likes that spot. Though your touch is gentler.” Emma chuckled, scratching the cat behind its ears. She then noticed the cat wore a dark purple necktie that looked remarkably familiar. Embedded in the center of the necktie was a tag containing a name—Catvis.

Catvis leaped onto the desk, its tail bristling (Emma corrected herself…the cat was decidedly male). He pushed a drawer open with a paw and fished out a gold-chained necklace with his teeth. The necklace held two golden medallions—one reading “Catvis” and the other “Accomplice”. Emma swore she saw the cat smirk as he dropped the necklace in her lap.

A notion so absurd it bordered on ludicrous flitted into Emma’s head. She reached out her hand and patted the cat on his head. “Clavis, is that you?”

The cat practically pranced with joy. He head butted Emma’s hand, leaning into her touch, before jumping deftly onto her lap again, exposing his belly.

Emma shook her head in disbelief. “The things you do for attention are ridiculous Clavis.” The cat nipped Emma’s finger, causing her to pull her hand away. “Oh, excuse me. Do you prefer to be called Catvis while in this form?” Emma’s words were dripping in sarcasm, but the cat purred contently and licked the finger he bit.

Emma recalled the pharmacology book she glanced at earlier. “You were working on a polymorph potion, weren’t you?” Catvis beamed and extended his body so that he was standing on Emma’s lap, his front paws on her shoulders. He rubbed both sides of her cheeks affectionately.

“You really are ridiculous. Ridiculously amazing.” Catvis blinked, not expecting to hear that. “A polymorph potion has never been successfully made until now. A mere Chevalier would not—could not—think to do this.” Emma blushed at her words—expressing her honest feelings was easier with him in this form.

Catvis nuzzled against Emma’s face. He craved this attention, this affirmation. Needed it. Emma’s heart trembled at the realization. She held him in that standing pose in her lap for a while, letting her guard down. After a while, her eyes drifted to the bottle of blue liquid Clavis mentioned yesterday on a table. “We have to change you back eventually, you know. What ingredient is missing from your antidote?”

Catvis jumped back on the desk, finding a pen and fitting it into his mouth. With his head at an incredibly awkward angle, he wrote out two words on a piece of paper: Black rawhide.

“Wow, I can READ this!” Apparently, Clavis’ eighth wonder was legible handwriting without opposable thumbs. “There’s no rawhide here, so we’ll have to look for it. Come here, let me carry you as we search for some.”

Catvis went back to Emma’s lap, his head pushing the necklace into her hand. “I am NOT wearing a cat collar.” Catvis pouted. Emma felt a pang of guilt at his expression. “Well, maybe just this ONCE.”

A few moments later, Emma came out of the bedroom, with Catvis perched on her shoulders. As Emma walked down the palace stairs, she spied a familiar plume of fiery red hair.

“My Lady!” Cyran ran to Emma. “What news of our missing charge?”

“You’re not going to believe this.”

“Try me. Nothing about him surprises me anyone.”

“You MAY want to reconsider that statement.” Emma turned her shoulder and gestured to Catvis.

“I didn’t know you owned a cat.” Cyran sniffed loudly.

“WE own a cat. A very naughty one at that.” Emma smirked and bopped Catvis on his nose.

AAAAAAA-CHO!

“I’m highly allergic to cats. Especially naughty ones.” Cyran’s eyes watered. “So, no, I do NOT own a cat.”

Emma gestured to the “Catvis” button on her feline companion. “Actually, we do. Clavis created a polymorph potion and here are the results of THAT.” Catvis grinned broadly—it was a grin Cyran knew all too well.

Catvis’ ears twitched at a sound down a nearby hallway. He jumped off of Emma’s shoulders and sprinted away.

“Catvis, wait!” Emma began running after him, but Cyran erupted into a violent coughing fit, one so strong it made his cheeks blaze as red as his hair. A maid was tasked with fetching him a glass of water as Emma slapped his back.

“I-I’m fine!” Cyran collected his breath. “Were you serious when you said that cat was—“ A shriek from the maid carrying Cyran’s water interrupted the conversation. A furry purple and grey blur darted past her. Catvis ran up the stairs, carrying a black rawhide whip in his mouth. The whip crackled in the air as Catvis flew past Emma and Cyran. Sariel came bounding from the hallway, violet eyes narrowed with rage. “It is enough to have one Hellcat among us. I did not think we had a second living in the palace.”

Emma looked apologetically at Cyran, her hand pointing at Sariel. “Cyran, can you handle this?”

“I…do not get paid enough for these shenanigans, My Lady.” AAAAAAA-CHO!

“At least you get paid.”

…

With a piece of Sariel’s whip, the antidote was now complete and consumed by Catvis (he lapped the potion from Emma’s #1 worst cup). The antidote would take a few hours to be effective, so Emma laid down on Clavis’ couch, a blanket covering her legs and Catvis perched in his proper spot—between Emma’s thighs.

Emma couldn’t remember falling asleep, but she must have done so, for she woke up to the pre-dawn hours to a heavier weight on her body and something touching her face. Emma’s eyes slowly opened as she felt an arm—a human arm!—encircle her waist, and roaming hands caressing over her clothes.

“Ah, you’re awake my lovely lover. How wonderful.” Alluring golden eyes shone brightly in the darkened room as Clavis’ lips traced a trail down Emma’s neck.

“Hmmm,” Emma’s fingers carded through Clavis’ hair.

“Are you so delighted you’re at a loss for words? Cat got your tongue?” There was a purr to his voice as Clavis leaned forward and presented a cheek to be kissed.

A cheek was not enough. Emma pulled Clavis down for a kiss, her lips capturing his. “You’re an absolute cat-astrophe, darling.” As she pulled away, Emma’s quiet laughter tickled Clavis’ ear.

“But you’re my cat-astrophe. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[candied-boys]

Blarf. I've felt so off the last few days.

So here are silly head canons for a few of the princes looking after you

Warning: uh sicky, owie, :(

Gn reader, sfw, comfort and fluff and a little angst because Licht

I can't tell if it's a touch of food poisoning or just my ghost period (thanks to great birth control there's no anemia inducing blood loss anymore - only random cramps and fevers and so on! Hurray?). Maybe it's both. Anyway I feel like garbage so...

Jin - upset tummy

"Feels better, right?" he smiles down tenderly at you as you nod.

Something about his big, warm palm rubbing slow circles across your stomach over and over is oddly soothing. You thought it might make you feel worse since the last thing you wanted was any pressure on your already twisted belly, but it really does seem to be helping.

"My mother always used to do this for me when I'd make myself sick eating too much candy."

Just the thought of how much candy he eats now and how much more he would have had to have eaten to make himself sick as a kid makes you queasy, but you're quickly brought back to comfort by the low timber of his voice as he repeats the same chant his mother once did for him.

"Gentle hands are medicine..." 🎶

*the original in Korean is "mommy's hands are medicine" (엄마손은 약손) so I changed it to match.

Licht - a fever

Injury on the battlefield doesn't phase him, but seeing you bedridden with a fever makes him feel so helpless that he makes himself sick with worry. Even with the doctors assuring him that you'll be fine once the fever breaks and Clavis sourcing the best medicine for you, Licht is still a complete wreck.

He doesn't sleep, eat, or even move from your side. He just sits there next to your bed, changing the cool towel on your forehead every 20 minutes like clockwork, making sure you take your medicine twice a day, and helping you take sips of water each time you wake up. In the moments where you're sleeping and he's left with nothing to do but fret, he sings his mother's lullabies for you.

Your smile when you finally wake up feeling better is enough to make any amount of suffering worth it for him. Even suffering your harsh scolding.

Luke - Headache

It hurts. It hurts so much, but it hurts less and less each time his strong hands knead the knots out of your shoulders.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow!" you whimper and tense when his thumb rolls over a particularly sensitive spot.

"I know, I know," he murmurs and kisses your head. "Ya got so many knots though. I don't think it's just last night ya slept funny. It's gotta be all them books you're carrying around with ya all the time or something. There's no way ya got this tense in one day."

He's not wrong. But you're stubborn and won't let other people carry things for you. And maybe that cross bag you take into town isn't doing you any favours either... And maybe binge reading that new book while hunched up against the bedframe wasn't the best posture... And you should probably be doing those stretches every night but you're just so tired when you fall into bed... And... maybe you're just not 19 anymore......

But maybe it's not weak or selfish to give in to being cared for if it makes the person who loves you happier.

"Thanks, Luke..." you mumble and wince with pain as you tilt your neck to add a little resistance.

"My pleasure," he answers and wraps you in a gentle hug.

I have thoughts for more, but I'm sicky so not today :(

Lovely banner by @/cafekitsune