#Rhodolite Pie

[aeon-arts]

Introducing Rhodolite “Rhodey” Pie!

A.k.a my Starmaud fan kid! He’s a sweet stallion who loves mining for gemstones. Rarity loves spending time in the caves with him. His favorite movie is pony Snow White if only for the scene with the seven dwarves in the mines. Despite having a unicorn horn, he can’t really use magic (think like how Scootaloo has wings but can’t fly) but he has Pie family strength so he mines with the strength of an Earth pony! Struggles with his volume at times and can’t always read the room, but he always means well!

Special thanks for @/eardogg on TikTok for help with the mane!

Base

[yarnnerdally]

Falling in Love in a Bakery - A Series

A vignette into the love life of Imogen Quinn and Nokto Klein

Characters: Imogen, Nokto, Aurelia (Imogen's sister) Setting: Quinntessential Baked Goods bakery Rating: Teen Word Count: 1,223

     It was a fairly quiet day in Rhodolite and Imogen was glad for it. Just the week before she had baked her heart out for a wedding in which the couple insisted on not only having cake, but profiteroles, macarons, and rose water shortbread cookies. After a few days off (in which Nokto was visiting nobles in Benitoite, much to her displeasure) the bakery was back in the swing of things as usual. With a self-satisfied smile Imogen pulled freshly baked strawberry rhubarb tarts out of the oven. They were small, only consisting of two bites to finish one, but they were one of her best-sellers.

     ‘And Nokto’s favorite,’ she mused to herself, smiling fondly. It’s not like they were dating. But… things certainly seemed to be headed that direction. He visited the shop in any of the free time they had and even the knowledge of him busting his backside to spend time with her made her feel as warm as a freshly baked pie. The bell on the door chimed signaling that a customer had come into the shop. Setting down the tray, she went to the front of the shop to see Nokto looking quite thoughtfully at the display case.

     “Nokto!” She was surprised to see him a full day earlier than when he said he would return from his duties in Benitoite. She went to him, untying her apron and placing it on the counter so she could give him a proper hug. “What are you doing back? I thought you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow!”

     Nokto’s shoulders visibly relaxed when he saw Imogen, a soft (if weary) smile gracing his face as he hugged her back. “Got done just a little early. Figured I’d swing by to see my favorite baker before heading back to the palace,” he said, tapping the tip of her nose. She chuckled a little and withdrew from him.

     “Wait right there. I have something for you,” she said, disappearing to the back room again. The tarts had just barely cooled down enough where she could package a few of them for him and came back out with the box. “They just finished cooling down. Had to make another batch since the first one sold out at 10 this morning,” she laughed. Nokto opened the small box and made a small ‘o’ shape with his mouth.

     “I’m going to have to smuggle this into the palace, you know. Otherwise Licht and Jin will scent these out like a bloody hound,” he mused. He looked at the box pensively for a moment before deciding to indulge and take a bite of one of the tarts, groaning softly as he savored it. “Anything new and exciting while I was away?”

     Imogen shook her head and shrugged. “Not new, necessarily. Jin actually dropped by yesterday. That was about it.” Nokto’s chewing slowed as he heard his brother had come by the shop and immediately became suspicious.

     “Jin? What for?”

     “He was getting a bunch of his favorites. The coffee roll, the chocolate spice cake,” She went on, sitting at one of the stools next to the counter. She debated telling him what else happened but her conscience won out. “He asked me on a date.” There was a tension that lingered in the air for a moment. “I politely declined. He, uh… told me to keep him in mind if my prince charming never comes along.” She could see Nokto bristle a little at that but quickly tamp the emotion down. It was only a split second, but it was there.

     “Why are you upset?” She asked softly.

     “Upset? Why would I be upset?” Nokto asked, brushing the question off and scoffing before putting the rest of the tart back in the box. This wasn’t the first time he simply wouldn’t come clean with his feelings and Imogen felt she was at her breaking point.

     “Y’know,” she began, picking up her apron and beginning to put it back on, “for all the intellect you have, you lack any and all wisdom,” she huffed, turning to head back behind the counter until a hand stopped her by her wrist.

     “I lack wisdom?” he questioned, his own temper spiking at her sudden shift in attitude. “Tell me, then, what wisdom do you expect me to possess at this moment?”

     “That I rejected Jin because I’m in love with you!” She had turned to face him, the words flying out of her mouth before she knew it. Once she realized what she had actually admitted to, a hard blush began to spread across her face. Nokto stood there in a stunned silence, his hand still around her wrist though his grip loosened considerably.

     “What?” He blinked, any traces of annoyance gone from his face now as he stepped closer to her, her back now against the display case. Imogen sighed a little, verdant eyes meeting ruby. His brow furrowed, attempting to ascertain whether or not he was in a dream. “Say that again. Please.”

     “I…” why did she suddenly feel like she was out of breath with him so close? His hand was cupping her jaw and another settled on her hip. “I rejected Jin. Because I’m in love with you.” She watched as his breath caught in his chest, hope and light springing to his eyes in the split second before his lips descended upon her’s with a fierce hunger. It was another moment before she realized Nokto was kissing her. The information finally processed in her brain and she melted like sunwarm chocolate into his embrace. She brought her arms around his neck to hold him as close as she had always wanted, her hand buried into his silver locks. The rest of the world fell away as he kissed her breathless, gently pinning her against the display case. Nokto pulled away just slightly when they heard the sound of the back door of the bakery opening.

     “That'll be Aurelia,” Imogen murmured, swallowing thickly as her hands rested on his chest.

     “Then I suppose we should make ourselves more presentable,” he murmured into her ear, leaning down to press a kiss just under it. “Alternatively…” Imogen giggled, her cheeks stained a pretty shade of pink.

     “Alternatively I would ask her to run the shop for an hour or so but if I know you…” she brought her hands up to his face, holding it softly. She watched and grinned as he flushed ever so slightly at the contact. “Once you have me properly alone, it'll be more than an hour.” Nokto laughed softly, pressing his face into her touch.

     “You know me well,” he murmured, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “And… for the record. I'm very much in love with you, too.” Imogen felt warmth bloom in her chest as he admitted his own feelings for her, her eyes tender. As much as they didn't want to, they parted. Nokto had things to finish at the palace and the business day was not over for the bakery. Nokto pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek before leaving and she watched him head down the street from the doorway.

     “Sooooo…” Aurelia smirked as she put her elbows on the counter, her chin resting on her hands as she watched her little sister at the door. “When's the wedding?”

I couldn't remember if I asked before about people wanting to be tagged in OC content, so lmk if you'd like to be!

[rjthirsty]

Just Once

Jin/Dahlia (OC)

Words: 3.8k

A/N: I wrote this for Smutember last year. You can find a full list of tags on my ao3 post. Dahlia, at the time, was still canonically MC, but she has evolved since then. CW: Smut, smut, smut.

Jin led Dahlia through the gardens, deeper into areas so overgrown it looked like no one had been there in years. The scent of roses grew thicker as the world around them grew dimmer from the canopy of plant life blocking out the afternoon sun. It was like they were wandering into a wonderland, and Dahlia couldn’t help but look around in awe at the difference this place felt compared to where she had been studying with well manicured shrubbery and picturesque floral arrangements.

Jin pulled a sucker from his pocket and popped the candy in his mouth, rolling it over his tongue and letting it click against his teeth as he tucked it into his cheek. His sharp eyes watched the woman in the garden who was completely unaware he was perched near a tree, covered in the shade offered by it from the midday sun. She was absorbed in a book, sitting on a settee, and judging from the way she hadn’t lifted her teacup since he had begun observing her, it was likely empty and she had been there for a while.

Dahlia had come to the palace a few weeks ago and was recognized as Belle for the process of choosing the next king of Rhodolite. It was a custom the kingdom held where a commoner with a pure heart would see the truth in the princes eligible for the throne, and pick who would be next to rule, getting rid of the scheming and backstabbing that had taken place in fights over succession a long time ago. While it had worked for dozens of ascensions, Jin couldn’t help but worry about a repeat of the last Belle.

So, he had taken it upon himself to watch over Dahlia and prevent another series of unfortunate events from befalling such a lovely young woman.

Dahlia let out a long sigh. Jin could tell she wasn’t even aware she was doing it, clearly the studying was getting to her. Deciding it was time to encourage a break, Jin moved back onto the path and leisurely strolled towards Dahlia.

“Now what has a pretty young lady like you frowning so deeply?” He called out before he got too close, giving her time to acknowledge his presence so as not to startle her.

Dahlia looked up from her book and blinked at the sunlight that showered down around Jin, instantly smiling when she recognized him. “Nothing your company can’t chase away.”

“Mm. You’re sweet talking me already. Looks like I’m not the only one feeling lucky we ran into each other.” He sat down on the settee, taking up a spot close enough to Dahlia that he could hook an arm around her shoulders.

Dahlia had grown accustomed to Jin’s constant flirting and friendly behavior. When he set his arm on her shoulders today, she didn’t push him away or move elsewhere like she had when they first were getting acquainted. She’d learned that while he might say some incredibly lewd things, he never physically crossed a line once it was drawn. It was an odd pairing, the way he seemed to respect her (and other women) and yet he was the biggest womanizer she had ever met.

“Jin, if I say good morning to you, you think I’m sweet talking you.” Dahlia said pointedly with a smirk.

“It’s the way you say it; everything sounds sweet when it comes from you. Sweeter than Yves’ desserts.”

“Come on, I know you’re just being nice. No way you’d ever give up a dessert from Yves.”

“For you, I would.” Jin looked down at her with a look that felt more truthful than his usual teasing. He looked… serious.

He was serious. While they hadn’t known each other long, the more Jin got to know Dahlia, the more he felt a desire to protect her and her smile. If something as little as giving her his slice of the pie would keep her happy, as much as he really loved pie, he’d give it to her. It was a small price to pay.

Dahlia broke eye contact, glancing away and tucking her hair behind her ear in an attempt to hide behind her hand. The implication in Jin’s gaze was too much for her to bear at the moment and she wasn’t sure how to handle it.

They fell into silence, despite the awkwardness that she was feeling at his words, the quiet was comfortable. The day was warm and the sounds of the world were soothing. Tension melted off her shoulders and she leaned against Jin, his heat and proximity a soft blanket for her to fall into.

“What do you say we do something a little more active?” Jin murmured above her ear.

Dahlia raised her eyebrows but didn’t look up at him. “Are you propositioning me again?”

“If that’s how you want to take it, I’m willing and ready.” Jin’s smirk could be heard in his voice. “But I meant stretching those legs a bit.”

Dahlia nudged Jin in the ribs with her elbow. “You’re such a tease, Jin. But I could use a walk. I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting here.”

Jin set his large hand on Dahlia’s head and gently brushed his fingers through her hair, taking a moment to enjoy the way they sat together pressed against each other. Dahlia made no move to stand while he pet her, and he liked that. He was developing a soft spot for these little moments of intimacy between them, and for just a little longer he wanted to stay in this moment.

“I’ve got just the place in mind.” He untangled himself from Dahlia and hoisted himself off the couch. Like the perfect gentleman, he turned and offered a hand to Dahlia, who took it with a smile.

Jin led Dahlia through the gardens, deeper into areas so overgrown it looked like no one had been there in years. The scent of roses grew thicker as the world around them grew dimmer from the canopy of plant life blocking out the afternoon sun. It was like they were wandering into a wonderland, and Dahlia couldn’t help but look around in awe at the difference this place felt compared to where she had been studying with well manicured shrubbery and picturesque floral arrangements.

“Where are we even going, Jin?” She asked in a hushed murmur, feeling the enchantment would shatter if she spoke too loudly.

“There’s this place back here. A long time ago one of the kings built a little hideaway where he could meet his mistress.”

“Why am I not surprised you know that?”

Jin gave an easy laugh before stopping and turning towards her. He placed a hand over his heart and knit his eyebrows together. “I’m hurt, Dahlia. What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying you are the type to lead women to secluded places made specifically for a tryst.”

“As fair as that is, I haven’t brought anyone here yet. You’re the first.” He smiled and resumed their journey, his hand holding hers and Dahlia felt another flutter in her heart in his promise of her being special.

Jin released Dahlia’s hand and inspected an old looking gate. With a hefty push, it groaned open giving him enough space to duck inside, and more than enough space for her to make her way through. On the other side were the remnants of a secret garden. Benches and outdoor furniture carved from smooth stone were set under a trellis that had long since become a thick veil to block out prying eyes.

Jin and Dahlia both slowly wandered the area. It must have been beautiful once, they could see the original design under the years of miscare. Even now it still held a solemn tranquility. The dappled light that came through revealed several varieties of flowers, not just roses, and there was a soft babbling of water somewhere off in the distance.

“I didn’t know there was a stream near here.” Dahlia whispered in awe.

“I have to say I’m impressed.” Jin spoke in his usual register, but something about his voice felt right in the area, like he belonged there.

“You haven’t been here before?” Dahlia spoke a little louder, trying to match Jin’s volume.

“I never had the reason to.” Jin wandered a few more steps into the shrouded alcove, looking around before his eyes came back to meet Dahlia’s.

Dahlia watched him. Jin was often hard to read, a contradiction between what he said and what he meant. She had spent a few weeks with him and the other princes, and something she had learned is that he often had his own considerate and caring reasons hidden behind acts that seemed selfish and self-serving. But figuring out what those motives were was the hard part, because he painted his behavior as something carefree, not calculating as the case was.

“What’s the reason today, then?” Dahlia asked cautiously. Curiosity had her wondering if everything he had been saying today was the usual Jin, or if the hints at her being special was closer to the mark.

“Isn’t finding a quiet spot for the two of us enough of a reason?” Jin asked in return. It wasn’t really an answer, but another way for him to flirt while creating an emotional distance between them.

He enjoyed his time with women, and he showered them with affection while they had their fun, but he was always up front about not falling in love or making a good time a repeat occasion with anyone. Deep down, he didn’t want to burden someone, or himself with the expectations and heartache that came from relationships and attempting to create a bond with another person. People were complicated and messy, and he knew he was enough of a mess for anyone to easily handle.

“It is… if that is the reason.” She punctuated her words with her doubt.

Jin smirked and crunched the sucker in his mouth, tossing the stick aside as he swaggered over to her. “Think about it, Dahlia. Out here there are no prying eyes, you can let go for a while, stop worrying about everyone watching you and judging you. You don’t have to be Belle. Just a woman.”

The thought was enticing. Comforting even. Her life had been so ordinary before coming to the palace, and every day since had been burdened with expectations of etiquette and requirements of proper behavior. It was rare she had a moment to just exist without the pressures of the task she was beholden to.

Dahlia tilted her head as she watched Jin move closer. “You know I know you’re more kind than you like others to think you are, right? I see through your act.”

Jin laughed. He hadn’t expected her to come out and say it. He had a feeling with the way she looked at him on occasion that she saw the truth of him. That was what Belle was supposed to be able to do, or so they say. But still, he hadn’t thought she’d tell him straight that she knew he put more thought into his actions than he pretended.

“I had a feeling. You’re sharp. And smart. I’m really no match for you.”

“Jin… don’t flatter me. I don’t need you to dress up your words.”

“Alright. You work hard, Dahlia– too hard. I wanted to treat you.” Jin’s smirk faded. He let the charming, breezy mask fall. Care and concern were reflected in his wine-colored eyes. Little did he know this only made him more charming.

“So you took me out here. Just you and me. And then what?” Dahlia slowly laid her thoughts bare, giving Jin the same honesty he was showing her.

“Nothing expected. I can even sit outside the gate if you’d rather be alone.”

“No.” She answered quickly before he could offer any further help in the form of isolation. “Please. I like your company.”

Jin felt a pang in his chest. It had to be incredibly hard to have your life upended and stuck in a place with a bunch of strangers while the entire country’s future was put on your shoulders. He just wanted her to breathe a little, not feel so overwhelmed with her obligations.

He was standing in front of her, looking down at her and she met his gaze. He brought his hand up to her cheek and lightly brushed his thumb against the apple of it, cupping her face in his hand to offer some form of comfort. If she was willing, he would have kissed her. In the arms of a lover, comfort was easy to find. There was nothing a person had to hide when in the throes of passion. But she had turned him down before, and he hadn’t pushed since.

Dahlia layered her hand over his. She was touched with his consideration and thoughtfulness, and a vulnerability was threatening to expose itself from within her. His warmth spread through her, both from his hand and his words that had touched her heart.

Time slowed to a crawl in their secret garden. Two people escaped the responsibilities foisted on them by the world. They stood face-to-face, silently connecting.

“Dahlia… can I kiss you?” His voice was a husky whisper.

She nodded. Her hand ran up his chest, finding the fold in his lapel and closing into a loose fist around it. He was so much taller than her that she leaned to lift on her toes to make it easier for them to make contact. He bent forward, letting her fist in his jacket guide him closer.

The way their lips touched was soft and sensual. A whispered symphony between the two of them. The sound of their shared breath started the sonata. The soft scratch of fabric in Dahlia’s hand as she clutched Jin tighter was the second movement. The rustle of Jin’s fingers through Dahlia’s hair as he moved his hand from her cheek began the minuet. Their kiss blooming into tongues stroking and twining brought on the rondo allegro.

When they finally parted, they hovered near each other. Dahlia sighed and Jin attempted to breathe it in, the sound as erotic as the taste of her. He pulled away after a few seconds, looking into her eyes with desire in his and need in hers.

“... What now?” Dahlia breathed.

“Whatever you want.”

Dahlia kept her eyes focused solely on him. While no sound passed through her lips, the way she was looking at him was telling him so much. She pressed her lips together, keeping her thoughts from being voiced before she was ready to act on those carnal desires. Jin waited, giving her time to work through what it was she needed to before they left matters like this or moved to more illicit affairs.

“Just once, right?” Dahlia posed a question Jin hadn’t expected.

“It’s one of the rules I live by. If that isn’t your thing then–”

“No.” She interrupted. “I want it to be just this once. No expectations beyond now.”

Jin’s eyes went wide for a moment, he also hadn’t expected her to say that. “You’re sure?”

Dahlia nodded, biting her lip. The way her teeth dragged across her rosy lip was arousing in a way Jin hadn’t seen her before. He tore his eyes away to glance around their surroundings, his sight setting on a stone bench. He stripped his jacket off as he made his way to the steady slab, draping it over the weather-worn and time encrusted bench. Then he took a seat, quickly unbuttoning his shirt and untucking it to let it sit loose and open, baring his chest.

Dahlia timidly followed, eyes dancing over his body. She stopped in front of Jin, toying with the collar of his shirt between her fingers. Slipping off her shoes, she pulled the hem of her skirt above her knees and straddled his lap. Her heart was racing faster than it ever had. She could feel the flush in her cheeks, not from embarrassment, but from anticipation.

Jin set a hand on the small of her back, helping to keep her on his lap. “Hang on, hold still.” He said as he slipped his other hand between the two of them.

For a moment Dahlia thought things were already starting since Jin’s hand went straight to where they were connected, but as she felt him moving against her she realized he was unbuckling his belt. She burst into ringing laughter, the tension she was feeling slipping from her like her shoes had a minute earlier.

Jin smiled, watching her relax in his arms. “That’s better.” Seeing Dahlia let go of that coil that had been tightly wound inside her was rewarding on its own. He touched his fingers under her chin, bringing her attention back to him where he could see the light shining in her eyes. “You have no idea how radiant you look right now.”

“I said I didn’t need flattery, Jin.”

“It’s the truth.”

Dahlia lightly gasped, and Jin pressed his mouth against hers. He kissed her deeply, wanting to leave her breathless. She answered back with equal enthusiasm, letting him explore her mouth while she swirled her tongue against his. Jin’s hands deftly undid her blouse, carefully gliding down the row of buttons to pull her shirt open like his was. His large hand squeezed her breast, corset be damned - he didn’t seem to care about the extra material between his grope and her body.

She let out a moan, the pressure and heat from Jin’s firm cupping of her breast began to build a pressure and heat in the pit of her stomach. Dahlia rocked her hips against him, looking for the sweet brush of his manhood against her.

Jin kissed the side of her mouth, peppering smaller kisses down her chin and neck. She leaned back to accommodate and Jin withdrew her teat to end his line of affectionate pecks on her nipple. Her nipple perked, stiffening from the sensation and cool air. Then Jin’s mouth was on it, tongue twirling and stroking as he sucked, squeezing her bosom in his hand.

Dahlia undulated in Jin’s lap, feeling his erection harden from her grinding. She clutched at his shirt, using him for leverage while he ravaged her breasts with his mouth and hands. He moved from one nipple to the other, giving each equal attention, but the adoration lavished on her chest was rendering her frustrated. Her cunt ached, her clit demanded attention, and the relief she was seeking in this clandestine coupling was being held hostage with Jin’s favored foreplay.

“ Jin. ” Dahlia begged. But Jin didn’t relent. He enjoyed the way his name sounded in that heady and desperate voice. He liked the way she was dragging herself against him. He wanted to savor the build up. Until he felt fingers in his short hair and Dahlia tugged his face away from her breasts.

Another surprise he hadn’t anticipated, and he stared at her. She was panting and looked at him pleadingly. He couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips seeing the need in her eyes, the need for him. “Alright,” he breathed against her, capturing her mouth once more.

Jin moved his hand to her back again, offering support for the both of them as he leaned away from her enough to snake his other hand between her legs. He hooked his fingers under her panties and rubbed her slick pussy. Toying with her clit, Dahlia began to moan in earnest. He almost didn’t have to do anything as she worked herself against him, both his hard cock beneath his pants and his fingers inside her underwear.

Dahlia’s voice was growing louder, and he was suddenly struck with the desire to see how loud she could go. It was unfortunate they didn’t have room to maneuver where they were, everything was caked with decades of neglect and he honestly didn’t want to dirty Dahlia’s clothes. He kissed her again and again, stealing her moans to claim as his own. The sound of her was provocative, inviting a haze of lust that blanketed his senses.

Jin dragged his hand from Dahlia’s sex and freed his dick from his pants. He tugged her panties to the side and probed her wet folds with the head of his penis, spreading her lubricant on himself. Dahlia rose to give him room, lifting from his lap to position herself ready to sink onto his cock. He held himself as she rocked his shaft into her, slowly taking all of him and pausing once she had returned to his lap. She throbbed against him, squeezing him between labored breaths.

He took Dahlia’s waist, grasping firmly to lead the dance that was to come. She wove her arms around him, nails grazing Jin’s skin as she brought her hands to his back under his shirt. With the two of them set in their positions, Jin began rolling his hips to pump into her, his hold on her hips guiding and dragging her against him with every receding stroke, and excited thrust.

Dahlia dug her nails into Jin’s meaty shoulders. She clutched at him, desperate to keep hold on something that would keep her grounded and prevent the wave of pleasure from overwhelming her. Jin moaned in response, and it seemed her attempt had backfired as she rolled her eyes back on hearing his enjoyment because of her.

She raked her fingers down his back, and Jin only grew more savage and bestial, his groaning and grunting overtaking her. Dahlia grew louder, too. They built off each other, each sound and movement layering over the previous, rendering them a gyrating mess of scratches and thrusts and gasps and sweat.

Dahlia had lost all sense of reason, bouncing on Jin’s cock and hugging him to her. Jin was in the same state, pushing into Dahlia’s cunt until they were grinding pelvis to pelvis and still feeling like it wasn’t close enough. The marks she was rending on his back called a primal urge from within him to make her his as she was making him hers.

Dahlia peaked. Her back arched and her nails bit into his flesh even deeper. Her walls convulsed around Jin’s dick, animating him further into an unsteady rhythm that drew out his orgasm. His sticky cum roped into her and he throbbed deep inside her, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

He was too high to come down easily, and he nuzzled against Dahlia, not wanting the feeling to fade so quickly. His hands caressed her back, gently petting to try to calm her as well. Dahlia was collapsed on his shoulder, her hands smoothing against the marks she had made on him.

They sat like that for a long time, long enough that Jin had grown soft and when he finally fell from her pussy, they stirred and began disentangling themselves from each other. Neither spoke a word as they righted their clothing, putting themselves back together. Dahlia’s hair was a matted mess, and Jin combed his fingers through it, setting it into something close to presentable. It was a far cry from a proper brush, but it would have to do.

He gently pressed a final kiss against her forehead and took her hand to lead her back through the gardens to return to her life as Belle. Dahlia followed with a soft smile.

[chirp-a-chirp]

Ikemen Prince: Dirty Pictures

Description: A series of salacious drawings of the Rhodolite princes appear mysteriously at the palace. What are the pictures of, and how do the princes react to them?

Alternative Description: My brain is trash. If anyone wants to draw one of these photos, feel free to do so…

Tags/Rating: Suggestive, Cheeky, but stays PG-13

Word Count: ~900

…

Jin

Picture: Jin’s arms are behind his head as he strikes a pose. A string-bikini bottom dangles from his mouth, pearly white teeth contrasting nicely against the navy blue bottom. He’s shirtless, except for a matching bikini top that adorns him.

Luke: That picture is certainly…you. Whatd’ya have to say to that?

Jin: Nice boobs!

Chevalier

Picture: Chev is propped up against a headboard. He sleeps naked, with crumbled bedsheets and a book covering his lap. The picture’s title—A Beast in the Sack

Sariel: I swear this Hellcat is always up to no good.

Chev: My fool of a brother did not create this. *Points to a signature at the bottom of the picture that reads “From a Friend”*

Sariel: The signature’s legible. That rules Clavis out.

Clavis

Picture: Clavis wear black leather chaps and winks saucily. He’s shirtless, suspended in the air in a harness comprising of sturdy black leather pieces and suspension hooks. His hands are held up, tied on either side of the harness with his signature brown and purple belts.

Nokto: And here I thought I had eccentric tastes in bed. Such a naughty, cheeky prince.

Clavis: Speaking of cheeky…! *Turns drawing over and hands to Nokto. The drawing displays the same suspended figure of Clavis, but from behind the harness*

Nokto: Ass-less chaps? Nice touch.

Leon

Picture: Leon stands proudly in front of the palace throne. His hands are on his hips, black cloak billowing behind his shoulders. Leon appears majestic as he flashes a radiant smile.

Jin: Hey Emma, what do you think of this? *Shows Emma the drawing, with Jin’s hand covering the bottom half of the picture*

Emma: *Looks at the drawing* Awww, Leon looks wonderful! But why are you hiding half the picture?

Jin: Here’s why! *Removes his hand from the drawing*

Emma: WHERE’S THE REST OF HIS CLOTHES?!

Jin: King of the jungle indeed. Now I know why you and Leon are always smiling at one another. I’d smile like that too if I were packing THAT much—

Leon: Discussion’s over! *Takes Emma in his arms and strides towards his room*

Leon: *Whispers to Emma* Let’s see which Leon you prefer, hmm?

Yves

Picture: Yves carries a silver tray with a pipping hot apple pie from the oven. His cheeks are rosy and sprinkled with flour. The fifth prince is as naked as the day he was born except for a white apron that reads “Kiss the Cook” in pink cursive.

Yves: This is highly undignified!

Licht: Don’t you have that exact apron?

Yves: That’s besides the point Licht!

Clavis: Well, well, well! Someone appears to be VERY excited about baking.

Licht and Yves: What?

Clavis: Look closer at the picture.

Yves: *Peers at the drawing* Aaaaaaah! Don’t look Licht!

Licht

Picture: Licht wears a skintight full-body grey bunny costume, (complete with bunny ears) that showcase muscular legs and strong shoulders. He stands in a field of flowers, facing away from his audience, his cotton tail slightly elevated at a jaunty angle. Licht turns his head to reveal a scrunched up nose and a look of surprise.

Licht: Ugh. Disgusting. *Drops picture and walks away*

Leon: Hey, this picture looks kinda nice actually.

Chev: *Wordlessly picks up the picture and gestures to the bottom right corner of it*

Leon: Oh. A basket of carrots. Of course.

Nokto

Picture: It’s a portrait of a very pleased looking Nokto from the shoulders up, hair disheveled, neck smeared in crimson lipstick kiss marks.

Nokto: This is rather tame. I’m kind of disappointed.

Clavis: *Smirks* Look at the other side of the picture haha!

Nokto flips the paper and laughs heartily. “Ah, that’s much better.”

Yves: What’s better? *Peers at the paper* Aaah! That’s disgusting! How many people are in that…position?

Clavis: At least three. There are five limbs visible!

Nokto: Is that my limb or is that—

Yves: Don’t ask that!

Luke

Picture: Luke lays on a bear-skin rug by a roaring fire. Near the rug is a steaming hot bowl of porridge and a pot of honey. Luke looks tenderly at a well-worn teddy bear sitting on his stomach and propped up by his legs. The caption reads “this not-so-little bear feels juuuuuuust right”.

Jin: The palace maids are quite taken with this drawing. They say you look quite fine on that rug.

Luke: Oh?

Jin: Yeah, and some of those maids would love to lay on your hardwood!

Luke: …pervert.

Epilogue

Clavis stands deep in the woods near a dilapidated stone tower on the Rhodolite-Obsidian boarder. A twig snaps as a man emerges from the shadows.

Clavis: Thank you for your “artwork”. My brothers and I were quite taken with your depictions of us! Allow me to return the favor. *Hands man a crude drawing*

Picture: Gilbert is standing up, wearing impeccable white gloves as he leans onto the top of his cane, a smirk on his face. Beyond the gloves, he wears only two eyepatches, the second one strategically placed and…quite a snug fit.

Gilbert: Is this what you think of me after all this time, my friend? I need quite a bigger patch down there.

Clavis: What is it with Obsidian men and their obsession over size?

Gilbert: You really ARE an ass. I’m glad I drew you in those chaps.

[katriniac]

IkePri OC Bio

Meet Alyce - Fixing Rhodolite's PR nightmare

That ye olde century's equivalent of a reputation manager, speech-writer, and public relations specialist for Rhodolite, with Sariel as her boss. She's a country girl trying to make it in the big city.

Name: Alyce Gardner

Gender: female

Race/Birthplace: Human, Rhodolite

Current Home: Rhodolite Palace

Age: 26

Build: chubby, curvy

Height: 5’6”

Hair: Bright carrot red, long

Eyes: blue

Romantic Relationship History: Doesn't have a great amount of self-worth when it comes to romantic relationships, so she has no defenses whenever a guy shows interest in her. She assumes he's looking for a one night fling, and thinks that will be all she ever get from a man. So she plays up the image of the party girl who is just there to get laid. And it works; she usually doesn't leave a party by herself. But her heart dies a little more each time she gives in to the pressure for sex, wishing she had the confidence to ask for something more meaningful.

Distinguishing Features: freckles all over, dimple in right cheek when she smiles.

Family: Both parents, 2 brothers, 4 aunts, 2 uncles, lots of cousins and a few nephews

Things she has done: Does ‘putting up with Clavis’ count as an achievement? She's earned the trust of Sariel.

Goals she has: Keep Rhodolite’s image strong and positive, both domestically and in the International arena

What Motivates Her: proving that she can make a living on just her own income and doesn't need to marry in order to survive.

Favorite Entertainment (music, books, pastimes, etc.) : ‘commoner’ dancing (contra, square, ceili, etc), singing drinking songs at the top of her lungs and inventing new verses on the spot, telling jokes, doing card tricks, playing charades or any parlor game that uses improvised acting.

Favorite Food/Beverage: bar food, apple pie, meat pasties, cider (alcoholic is preferred, but she also likes to drink the N/A juice)

Personality: Clever, easy-going, energetic, feminine, occasionally immature, bubbly, helpful, warm, sweet, great sense of humor, loud, is a country gal at heart (family runs a sheep farm), loves to have a good time.

Secret vice: Loves to be in the spotlight. Addicted to applause and praise for her talents.

Secret sad: self-conscious about her chubbiness, and is convinced no man will find her attractive (physically or otherwise). That's why she is focused on her career because she thinks she'll be single her whole life.

[fireopal-tash]

~Cathartic crying~ ~crying together~

[ikehoe]

Messy [Licht Klein x Reader][Smut][Licht POV]

Characters ↬ Licht Klein x Fem! Reader

Rating ↬ Explicit [Smut – mdni]     

Tags ↬ Suitor POV, Smut, PIV, Cream-pie

Warning ↬ Unprotected PIV 

Description ↬ After Licht returns from a week-long trip to Rhodolite’s border, he finds that he’s unable to keep himself from lavishing you with attention. But, unbeknownst to him, that’s your exact goal. 

Disclaimer ↬ I do not own the rights to Ikemen Prince or any of the Ikemen series games. 

Wordcount ↬ 1.5k

Tag List ↬ @and-then-she-died-tm @kpop-and-otome @curious-skybunny @lordsister @aquagirl1978 @kleeps @ikesimp100 @chaosangel767 @rhodolitesroseforclavis @themysticalbeing @randonauticrap @violettduchess @atelier-maroron

His eyes trailed down your figure, following the bead of thick, golden honey making its way down the swell of your ample breasts. Like a sailor being called out to sea by the most alluring of sirens, he was under your spell. Eyes captivated by your beauty, body reacting only to you, heart-pounding whenever you graced his presence with your pure rays of sunshine. So long had he been used to being covered by the shadows, but you forced him out into the light – confronting every fear he had buried deep within himself. Mustering up every bit of willpower he had to draw his gaze away from your chest, he forced himself to focus on the darioles you’d made for him. 

“Oh no! I’m so clumsy,” your melodious voice rang out, slightly abashed at the mess you’d made on yourself. Though there was a hint of something playful behind your words, the way you lingered on the sentence, gazing up at him with that look. Oh, gods, that look that made his loins stir, pants immediately becoming uncomfortably tight. The dress you’d worn just for him was designed to keep little to the imagination. Beads adorned the deep-cut neckline, and the light fabric settled on your body to accentuate every one of your curves. “Licht, will you help me? I’m all sticky….” 

Fuck. There goes the idea of having a wholesome tea party to celebrate his triumphant victory, fending off rogue Obsidian soldiers at the Rhodolite borders. It would take every fiber of his being to stop himself from ravishing you right there, sucking deep purple and red flowers until your unmarked skin was adorned with evidence of his love, his obsession over you. “…Alright,” he mutters, conflicted between regret and pure excitement at taking off his gloves earlier. The thought of his bare, sullied fingers being worthy enough to touch the skin of his pure beloved was something that ran through his mind over and over. 

His tentative hand reached towards your chest with a handkerchief, temporarily stopping as though he didn’t know what to do. “Is it… is this alright?” 

And in response, all you did was guide his hand the rest of the way until he made contact with your skin. There was something about you that was absolutely electrifying. Even a touch as simple as this, something that should’ve been so innocent, as this one had him reeling. He lightly dabbed at your skin repeatedly, not realizing the pretty pink flush that began to form on your cheeks at his touch. 

“Uhm… Licht… I think there’s still some of the honey left….” 

A moment of deafening silence passed between the two of you. His gaze reluctant to leave yours. A fire of wanting, barely concealed desire in your eyes, reflected that of his own lust. 

“Where?” It was all he could manage to say without ripping off your luxurious bodice and taking your flesh into his mouth, nibbling and sucking until he had you keening underneath him. 

“Here….” 

And if he wasn’t sure about your intentions before, he sure as hell was clear now. His gaze lowered, trembling as he saw you gesture towards your breasts. “I think I’ll need some help washing up, Licht….” 

The switch in him was immediate. It was like a beast had possessed him. He immediately got up with such vigor that the rickety chair you’d dragged out for the tea party fell backward, landing with a loud clang. Before you could even question what he was doing, Licht scooped up your body in one quick motion like you weighed nothing more than a bunch of feathers and began to make his way in haste back to the castle. A nervous giggle escaped from your mouth, and he swore; even that sound had his cock twitching behind the confines of his pants. 

“I won’t be able to control myself tonight, Belle,” Licht murmured hotly as his breath ghosted the shell of your ear. A slight smirk formed on his lips as he watched you flush at his words. And true to his word, as soon as he made it back to his bedroom, arms still wrapped tightly around your small form, he threw you onto his bed and dove in. His fingers quickly tightened against the bodice of your dress, and with one quick motion, he ripped the fabric in half. Eyes darkened in excitement as your breasts were released for him, and only him, to lavish. And lavish he did. He quickly sucked your flesh into his mouth, groaning in satisfaction as your sensitive peak hardened around his lips. 

“A—ah, wait, Licht, not so fast!” Despite your protests, you panted, back arching to press your torso against him. 

“Hm? I thought you needed me to get you all clean?” He murmured, voice muffled as he was still latched onto your peaks, eyes lazily meeting yours. 

“Yes… I did… but it’s been a week since I’ve seen you and – ngh!” 

Before you could finish your sentence, Licht’s hand had made its way underneath your sheer skirt and was rubbing gentle circles into your bud. To his delight, his little angel decided to opt for no undergarments. Knowing that you’d sat there all throughout the false pretense of a tea party, bare, wanting, dripping with need for him – it was doing things to him that he couldn’t explain. And then he plunged his fingers into your dripping cunt, letting out a sinful growl when feeling the slick that coated his digits. Finally, the urge to taste you overcame him, and he settled for tasting his slick-coated digits, pupils dilating at the honeyed essence of you. 

“Licht,” you moaned, eyes widening at his sinful actions. 

“Sorry, but you probably won’t be getting a lot of rest tonight….” A part of him felt bad, knowing that you’d have to answer to Sariel’s questions, but the part of him that missed you, every part of you, won over any sense of logical thought he had. He quickly rid himself of his pants, almost sighing in relief once his hardened length was released from the constricting fabric. Then, with one quick motion, he sheathed himself in your warm, slick passage, relishing the feeling it brought him. It was indescribable, the way your walls formed perfectly around him, squeezing him as though daring him to last longer than a couple seconds. 

“Nngh—Licht!” You cried out. The desperation rampant in your voice reached straight to his cock, and he continued thrusting, wanting to draw more and more of those delicious sounds out of you. He watched you, taking in every little piece of you in the most intimate of moments. The way your bosom heaved with each thrust, the sight of his manhood sliding into your passage, the way your pupils were blown out, eyes unable to draw themselves away from his. 

“I – nngh, missed you so much, Licht.” Damn it, could you be any more perfect? Even in the throes of passion, you had an uncanny ability to reduce him to a pile of mush. A human being that felt everything, instead of the sinner that didn’t deserve anything. Every gentle touch you gave him restored life back to him, washing away his crimes until he felt reborn once more. And in response, he captured your lips in a consuming kiss, tongues dancing against each other. 

“I love you,” he murmured, pulling back for a second to revel in your beauty. Plush lips now swollen, red, and wet from his earlier ministrations. “Let me show you how much I missed you tonight.” 

And then he quickened his rhythm, delving into your core again and again until he felt the telltale signs of your release coming on. The way your walls began to pulsate against his cock, milking him rhythmically until he was groaning, lips sucking a deep purple flower into the soft skin of your neck. The sound of your voice calling out for him, gasping and begging for him to come with you, was enough to send him over the edge. With one final thrust, he spilled his release into you, painting your pulsating walls in thick, white essence. Not wanting to miss the spent look on your face, his gaze traveled up, and he couldn’t stop the smile from forming on his lips at your flushed face, tears prickling the corner of your eyes at the overwhelming stimulation. 

“You’re so beautiful, Belle,” he murmured as he gently wiped away your tears. It was like time was suspended as the two of you gazed upon each other, gently caressing each other’s skin as you slowly regained your senses.

After a couple moments, he felt you stir beside him in an attempt to get up and begin washing off, and his hand quickly shot out to stop you. “I’m sorry, Belle, I meant what I said earlier that you wouldn’t be getting much rest tonight. I intend to show you just how much I missed you this past week all night long.” He shifted, lowering himself until he was gazing directly at your glistening cunt, dripping from the combination of his and your essence.

And true to his word, there was not one moment of rest that night. However, despite the fact that he’d just returned from a week-long battle, and that he was spending the entire night vigorously spending his remaining dredges of energy, he had never felt more at peace. 

Fin. 

[scorchieart]

Pumpkin Pun-king

Genre: Comedy

Warnings: No pumpkins. Yes puns.

Characters: Leon Dompteur & the Rhodo-bros

Wordcount: 700

Prompts: Masquerade & Talk Exclusively in Puns Potion

A/N: My gift for the 2022 Ikemen Flash Exchange over on @flash-exchange for the awe-inspiring @violettduchess (my Leon-debt to you from summer has been paid 😌)

It is with a certain degree of excitement that the coming of Autumn brings upon its arrival to Rhodolite. It is the time of year that renews the spirit of fellowship. People flood the streets in teams, carrying displays and food and drink, all in preparation for the annual festival held in the town square. Neighbors pick up the mantle of friendship for the occasion, and the brotherly sentiment wafts around like the aroma of a freshly baked apple pie, even reaching as high up as the insurmountable bulwarks of the castle.

Indeed, even the Noble Beasts will take part in the festivities this year.

Though, it would be remiss to say that all eight have nary an inkling of how to participate. The eldest brother made appearances over the years for jolly merriment. And the youngest partook in every celebration since moving to the capital, managing his own honey stall where he displayed an array of hand-crafted concoctions for the public. 

Then there was the middle brother who slipped out from the watchful eyes of ministers and guards for a respite with the townsfolk. They say Rhodolite is known for its proficiency in the arts, and Prince Leon turned absconding into an artform. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that he was most knowledgeable in the customs of the fall festival, and it is with this assurance that the princes allowed him to lead the roundtable meeting discussing their participation.

“And they’re going to spice things up,” Leon said after drilling through the basics.

“Pumpkin spice?” Yves asked excitedly.

“Not that kind of spice, bud. There’s a theme this year: Masquerade Under the Moon.”

Clavis’s hand shot in the air. “But how will I enjoy everyone’s reactions to my potions if they’re hidden behind masks?”

“We vetoed that idea,” Nokto said. “It’s safer to stick with Luke’s honey stand.”

“Nice pun!” Luke high-fived Nokto while Clavis crossed his arms.

“Agreed,” Leon said, “but Clavis makes a fair point. Why don’t we have our own bout of fun, too? We could start a game. First one to find all seven others behind the masks wins a prize.”

“What sort of prize?” Chevalier cocked his eyebrow, and Leon smiled at his interest.

“How about a day off?”

“Found you!”

“Aww, guess I lose. Way to go, Yves!” Jin laughed.

“Maybe if you weren’t stuffing your face you would have had a chance,” Yves scoffed.

“And how am I supposed to eat these pasties with my mask on? Besides, I’d be happy if any of you won.”

“Really?”

“Well, maybe except Clavis. I wonder how he’s doing,” Jin said.

“I saw him.”

Yves jumped at the pale white mask speaking behind him, but sighed in relief when the wearer lifted it to reveal Licht’s gaze. “Found you both.”

Jin handed him a pasty which Licht gobbled thankfully. “But you won’t like what I saw Clavis doing. He’s passing out his potions.”

“What’s the damage?” Yves cried.

“Nothing major. Mostly sneezes and hiccups. But he slipped a special one to Leon.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jin asked.

“He said it was cheese-flavored.”

The three faction members searched the festival high and low, meeting and questioning folks about the whereabouts of their possibly endangered leader. 

They found Luke at his honey stand, who said Leon stopped by and told him “I swiss I knew about your honey years ago!” Soon after they ran into a mulling Nokto, who said Leon found him and said “You’re cheddar off without her, bro.”

Frantic, the three doubled down their efforts, praying Chevalier wouldn’t react brutally in the face of a bad cheese pun. But the warm feeling of the festival left their systems at the sound of their worst fear come-true.

“There you are, Cheese-valier Miche-rella!”

The three rocketed to the source and found Leon lifting his bedazzled black-and-red mask to grin triumphantly at a stoic tiger-masked Chevalier. Time seemed to stop as they stared each other down, the movement of their hair fluttering ominously in the passing breeze.

At last, Chevalier lifted his mask. 

“I shall concede this victory to you if you swear to never utter anything as atrocious in my presence again.”

"Sounds gouda to me, Cheesie!"

*Jin, Yves, and Licht rushing to hold Chevalier back*

This was so much fun! Thank you to everyone who put this exchange together and participated! I can't wait to devour all your works!

[violettduchess]

Clavis with hyacinth? 👀

A/N: This is the FINAL fic in my 500 Follower Celebration.

To both anons: I hope you don't mind I combined/tweaked these two requests because they fit together so nicely.

Hollywood AU, Clavis and f!reader

fluff, angst, kisses

Word Count: 4518

Your arms ache as you wipe down the splotchy navy blue counter for the umpteenth time that day. Even though the sun is trailing its last few rays across a pastel sky, a glance at the clock reminds you that you still have 20 minutes to go before your shift is done and you can close. You narrow your eyes in a fierce glare but the clock keeps right on ignoring you, a cold, cruel taskmaster.

“‘Scuse me, lady, could you turn it up?” The customer sitting at the far end of the counter in front of the mounted TV gestures with his fork, bits of cherry pie still clinging to the prongs.

You paste on your most accommodating smile. “Of course, sir.” Your sore feet carry you to the other end of the counter where you kick the small step-stool into a better position before standing and manually raising the volume. The remote had decided it would escape its life of servitude in the tiny diner and had disappeared weeks ago. Your boss was too stingy to buy another so that left you as the living, breathing channel changer and volume controller. 

Taking a minute, you lean back against the counter to see what the customer wants to watch. 

“Entertainment Today with a rare interview with elusive Oscar-nominated actor Chevalier Michel. We talk about his newest movie, “The Fall of the Brutal Beast”, which is already generating Oscar buzz, and get exclusive details about his upcoming wedding to supermodel Belle! Stay tuned!”

You roll your eyes subtly as you turn away from the screen, walking to check on the coffee machine. Any story claiming to have an exclusive with the notoriously press-wary Chevalier is probably bogus. “An interview” is likely a couple of sentences that the actor would repeat almost verbatim to every reporter on the press junket, if he did any promotion at all. It is this very exclusivity that heightens his mystique, that makes fans rabid for any crumb of information about the method actor. God, when the news broke that he was actually engaged to the bright and bubbly Belle, it was as if someone had dropped a boatload of chum into shark-infested waters. An absolute media frenzy.

Your watch makes a beeping sound, making a grab for your attention. Nearly 8 pm. That curves your lips into a genuine smile as you begin the process of making a large Cafe Mocha, iced, with whipped cream and a dusting of cinnamon. You’ve just finished tapping the final bit of cinnamon on top when the front door opens, bringing with it a tall man in jeans, a lilac and gold button down shirt, black Ray Bans, and a white baseball cap with the red rose of the Rhodolite Wellness Center on it. He slides into his usual spot at the very end of the counter, away from the TV, and you head over, sliding his regular order in front of him. He flashes you a grateful smile which grows even larger when you dip into the glass cookie jar and fish out one of today’s freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies.

He glances around the nearly empty diner and then removes his sunglasses, tucking them into the V of his shirt. His brandy-colored eyes meet yours and your heart takes a tumble inside your chest. 

“And? Did you watch it?” He bites into his cookie, managing to grin even as he chews.

Your smile tells him all he needs to know but you answer anyway. “I sure did. It was hilarious. The bit about your experiment gone wrong in 10th grade chemistry had me rolling."

There it is, that thousand watt smile you have come to love so much. You and about a million other fans. He takes a sip of his coffee, watching as you go about your business of tidying up, getting ready to close the diner. Cherry Pie leaves a ten on the counter and heads for the exit when he stops, doing a double take.

"Hey wait a minute! I know you. You're Clavis Lelouch!"

Clavis makes eye contact with you first and you give a small shrug. He comes in right before closing so that he doesn't draw attention but sometimes it's unavoidable.

"Guilty," he says with a short laugh.

Cherry Pie wipes his hands on his dirty jeans before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone.

"Could I get a selfie?"

You watch out of the corner of your eye as Clavis graciously nods, getting up to go stand with the man. He gives his signature crooked smile and Cherry Pie grins from ear to ear as he takes the picture.

"Thanks man," he says as he looks at the picture proudly. "My buddies aren't going to believe I met Chevalier Michel's brother!" 

Inwardly you wince, but Clavis's smile remains, unmoving as a mountain in a storm. This is not the first time he has been lashed with the name “Chevalier” and it certainly won’t be the last.

"Have a great night," he manages but Cherry Pie is already out the door, posting the picture to all of his social media accounts. 

At that moment the chef pops his head around the corner.

"I'm heading out. You'll lock up? Oh hey Clavis."

Clavis slides back onto his stool and gives the chef a two-fingered salute.

"Hi Yves."

"Yeah, I'll lock up. See you Evie."

You hear the familiar sound of the diner's back door closing before you sigh, walking to turn the Open sign around to Closed before heading back over to your favorite customer.

"You better get going. If Pie Crust posts where he was when he took that selfie you're bound to get hounded by fans."

Clavis's gaze is focused on his drink. "Or paparazzi wanting to know about the damn wedding." He says it quietly but you feel the swell of his words, raw and tender and bruised. Pushing aside the straw, he lifts the glass to his lips and finishes the sweet coffee in several gulps. You've asked him in the past why he drinks coffee so late. He claims he doesn't sleep much anyway. Somehow that also strikes you as sad.

“Hey,” he says, his voice suddenly lighter, brighter, like a spotlight switched on to drown out the darkness. “I wanted to talk to you about something. Can I walk you home? You’ve mentioned you don’t live far from here.”

Surprise trips your heart yet again and you blink, momentarily wondering if you misheard. “But….what about your car?”

“I had my driver drop me off.” He slides a $50 on the counter and you know by now that he will refuse to take any change. The ridiculous amount of money left over is always tip for you. 

“Alright, let me just finish closing. We can go out the back.”

He slides his Ray-Bans over his golden eyes, a cloud blocking the sun, and smiles.

*

The walk back to your apartment complex is exceedingly awkward. This is the first time you have ever been with him outside the diner and it feels like without a counter between you, you aren't sure what to do with yourself. Your limbs feel loose and uncontrolled like a puppet whose puppeteer has gone too lax with the strings. 

Clavis is no help. He keeps his head down, probably out of force of habit, and follows your lead, for once quiet when you wish he wouldn’t be. You feel a slight twinge of embarrassment when you open the rusted gate of your apartment complex. There is a tiny courtyard with a few scraggly palm trees and a meager water fountain that looks like the Trevi….if someone had removed the tridents and horses and beaten up Oceanus.

Cheap blue and gold spotlights, badly hidden in the bushes, shine on the fountain and the chipped cement bench in front of it. You sit down pointedly on the bench, not about to actually ask a world-famous comedian inside your cluttered apartment, no matter how well you two get along. He follows your lead and settles down beside you.

"It's almost dark, you know." You nod toward his sunglasses and he reaches up, removing them with one hand. Why that movement makes your heart skip a beat is beyond you. Silently you tell it to pull itself together, focus on pumping blood and not falling over because Clavis removed his sunglasses in a movement as smooth as glass.

"This city is never dark," he mutters as he looks up at the sky which is slowly growing dim, but never quite enough that you can see the stars well. 

You study his profile, the sharp line of his cheekbones, the point of his chin, those impossibly long lashes framing eyes the color of liquid gold. His brother may get all the attention but anyone who doesn't see the beauty in the man seated next to you is blind. 

He finally tears his gaze away from the sky, and drops it to his hands which are fiddling with his sunglasses.

"So you know that Chev's premiere is in a week."

"Everyone knows that." Critics were practically salivating at the chance of seeing the great Chevalier Michel on screen again after the huge success of his last film, a modern interpretation of Richard III which earned Chevalier rave reviews and several high-profile awards.

Clavis opens and closes his sunglasses, his fingers moving with an almost elegant finesse, a stark contradiction to the comedian whose comedy relies heavily on silly pranks and self-deprecating anecdotes.

"I have to go. It's good publicity for the special and Sariel, being the good manager he is, suggested rather strongly that I don't show up to this alone, seeing as how it's also they’re first official outing since…." He stops for a second, as if he can't quite form the word without it getting caught in his throat. He tries again. "Since the engagement to Belle." 

Hearing the supermodel's name brings a rush of images to mind, glossy photos of her and Clavis, the model and the funnyman. They were photographed everywhere, at all times, but no matter what they were doing, no matter how candid the shots, he was always smiling. Because he loved her. It was as clear as Maldivian waters how much he did. Whenever he had given an interview and had been asked about her, there was a luminous shine in his eyes. The pride he felt when she was on his arm at a premiere was written in the lines of his body, the curve of his arm around her. They were envied and idolized and everyone wanted to know more about the "Clavelle" love story.

Until, like so many fantasies, it fell apart, an explosion of glitter that turned to ashes at his feet when Belle met Chevalier. 

They became the number one news item for months, the media painting Clavis as the broken-hearted clown who was forced to make way for the love story of the century. The world's most eligible bachelor, a man who had never shown any interest in anything other than his craft, falls for the beautiful, brown-eyed girl-next-door with her gentle laugh and million dollar smile. Never once was Chevalier painted as a villain for stealing his brother’s girlfriend. He was a star of the highest caliber, shining his light down from a distance none could touch. 

Now, months later, the premiere would mark the first time all of them were in the same place at the same time. 

Clavis removes his baseball cap, running a hand through his twilight hair. You fight the tingle in your fingers that wants to smooth it down again. 

"Anyway Sariel thinks if I show up with a date it'll keep the media from continuing with the "sad brother" angle." He finally stops messing with his glasses and fixes his gaze on you. "I think he's right and I want you to be my date."

Your brain is filled with the sound of screeching tires as your heart yanks hard on the hand brake.

"Huh?" is your eloquent reply.

He laughs, but you see the way he is playing with the brim of his cap, fingers restless as dragonflies darting about a pond. He is as nervous asking you as you are shocked to hear it.

“I…..I like you. You listen and you’re really nice and you make a killer coffee. And while some attention is great, they won't push too hard about our story. The press isn’t as interested if I bring someone who isn’t famous. No offense.”

“None taken,” you say automatically, staring at him. The silence stretches out, like taffy. Thinner and thinner, longer and longer. Finally you break it.

“What if….do they ask questions? About how we met?”

He shakes his head, his eyes bright and eager when he realizes you are considering it.

“We’ll walk the red carpet, no questions or interviews. Just pose for some pictures and then hurry inside. Watch the stupid movie and then poof, we’re out of there. I’ll be going on tour soon anyway. No other public appearances like this lined up so it’s a one-time deal.” He looks so earnest, leaning toward you, his gaze wandering your face, searching for that one word he is hoping so hard you will utter.

How can you say anything but….

“Ok. Yes. I’ll do it.”

*

Why oh why did you agree to this?!

The wall of flashing lights. The photographers screaming like birds of prey, their voices thunderous and insistent, a drumming that never stops. A dress that costs more than your annual rent poured over your body. Shoes designed to look good first and ask questions about comfort later. Your hair smells like product, your skin feels like rubber under all the makeup. You feel unreal, like a doll someone props on a shelf, still in its box. A beautiful display. 

Panic rears its ugly head, jaws unhinged, ready to swallow you whole.

And then you feel his arm wrap around your waist. A hand press reassuringly into your side against the sequins of your dress. A touch that is solid. Real. 

He leans down, his mouth right next to your ear, the anchor in a sea of turbulent waters.

“Look at me, Bright Eyes. Just look at me.”

You turn your head, your gaze locking with his and ah, there he is, the same man who drinks his overly-sweet coffee while regaling you with side-splitting stories about his first gigs in seedy bars and smoky rooms. The man who once listened as you complained about your feet hurting and showed up the next day with a pair of cushy sneakers he swore he just happened to find in some leftover swag bag in his closet. The man who notices every other customer in the diner and makes up outrageous origin stories about them under his breath just to get you to laugh. Who truly wants to know everything about your sleazy cousin back home, your neighbor’s foul-mouthed parrot, and why it’s a crime to put ketchup on scrambled eggs.

He smiles and the bright lights melt into the background. The voices blend together becoming a subtle roar. He fills your vision and in this alien world, he steadies you and guides you, expertly, to safety.

You lean into him as you step inside the dark doorway to the theater where the movie will be screened and he keeps you pressed close to his side. Only when you are led to your seats does he remove his arm. You feel the loss of his touch so keenly, so suddenly it nearly takes your breath away….and makes the moment when he reaches for your hand, threading his fingers between yours on the armrest between your seats that much easier to accept. 

It's for show, you tell yourself. Nothing else. Performance, like everything in this town. 

And yet, the feel of his hand in yours warms your heart like the glowing embers of an autumn fire. 

The lights go down, blanketing the audience in darkness. No one can see your joined hands now.

And yet, throughout the entire two hour saga, neither of you makes the first move to unlock your fingers and separate.

*

Behind the plastic, oversized, obnoxiously green potted plant is the perfect place to hide. Your mascara runs down your cheeks in black rivulets.  You feel like there's a stone pressing down on your chest, your lungs barely able to expand and contract.

You know it was wrong to have left Clavis there, but when faced with humiliation, the ur-alt part of your brain said to run. And run you did.

It had gone swimmingly. The movie was brilliant. Begrudgingly you had to acknowledge that Chevalier was incredible. And Clavis had kept your hand in his the whole time. Your first premiere was a dream.

Until it began the slow descent into grotesque nightmare.

All it had taken was one producer who recognized you. A man, with whom your interaction was limited to a daily cappuccino, lowered the Gucci sunglasses he had been wearing indoors and yelled, "Yo! Waitress? Diner on Lakewood? That you?"

That had turned the heads of not only several glittering dresses and overpriced suits, but one head of white blond hair and an Arctic gaze. 

It swung over to where you were standing, your hand on Clavis's arm, and you found yourself flattened under the heavy hammer of judgment in those cold blue eyes. Chevalier arched one beautiful brow and said before a room of admirers, his cool voice projecting across the crowd:

"Really, Clavis? A waitress?" 

His tone was hard with icy disapproval and something edging close to contempt. 

Around you others began to buzz, flies circling something offensive, something rotten. Their expressions burned into your mind, some disgusted, some partially curious. You could have handled them all if not for the flash of embarrassment that you caught on Clavis's face, lightning illuminating the sky of his features just a second before he slid his plastic smile in place and words of droll apathy rolled from his tongue.

But you had seen it, that look. He was embarrassed by you and it hurt, stung like salt in the open wound that lightning had burned across your heart. And so you had turned on your fancy heel and you had run.

And now you're hiding behind a fake plant, trying to stop the pain of hot humiliation running through your veins.

You don’t know how long you have been hiding there, trying to gather the courage to just walk away, when one of the large, plastic leaves is pulled back, leaving a tiny cloud of dust motes in its wake.

“Hi.”

You look away, unable to meet his gaze. 

“Bright Eyes,” he says as he reaches out, tentatively taking your hand in his. This time there aren’t butterflies in your stomach, but the warning, angry hum of a swarm filling your mind. 

He feels the change in you and drops your hand. Again silence as the man who talks for a living searches for the right words. 

“I’d like to show you something,” he finally says, his voice gentler than you have ever heard it. “Please?” He holds his hand out one more time. You should reject him. You should walk out of there with your borrowed dress and cheap earrings and pretend you had never agreed to this charade.

But his eyes…..warm pools of melted gold, rich with hope that you will trust him one more time, draw you in, a moth to a golden flame. You wonder if Helios himself had gifted Clavis with those eyes, those twin flames that seem to burn you right to your core.

For the second time that night, you slid your hand into his and let him guide you.

*

He leads you away from the crowd, from the pack of glamorous wolves, through a maintenance door, to a stairwell of cement and iron, a utilitarian thing that leads you up and up and up…..until finally another set of doors, which he bursts through, you just a step behind him.

Your heels step onto gravel, your eyes are filled with an endless sky, muted by the glow of city lights. He turns, illuminated, and smiles.

“Better, right?”

He leads you to the roof’s ledge and drops your hand.

“Clavis, be careful!” He has perched himself onto the wide, cement border, and the sight of him with nothing behind him, just bright lights and cityscape, has you moving forward, hands held out in a gesture of instinctual protection. As you come close, he reaches for you, taking your hands in his and with a smile brighter than the famous Hollywood sign, he pulls you close. 

You stare at one another, the sounds of the city floating up around you, the night sky wide and welcoming. Holding his hands feels good, like a key turning and unlocking a door with a satisfying click. You wonder if tonight something has unlocked between the two of you.

His thumbs move slowly over the tops of your hands.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs. “I’ve told you before he’s a real asshole.”

A sad, wobbly laugh leaves you on an exhale. “Lucky me got to see it firsthand.” You raise your gaze to his now and are surprised at the concern in his expression, the way his head is tilted, empathetic. 

“I’m sorry I embarrassed you.” The words are quiet and you feel the shame bubble up again, hot and undeniable. “I should have just told you no.”

His thumbs stop moving over your skin. He squeezes your hands for a moment as the warm wind stirs his dusky hair.

“You did not embarrass me, Bright Eyes. He did. He’s my brother and he has the nerve to–” Clavis stops speaking, letting the angry, bitter thing that had flared up fade away instead of elaborating and adding fuel to a fire that never quite burns out. He sighs and you feel the urge to touch his face, to soothe the lines of exhaustion you see there. “You,” he continues, “could never embarrass me.”

And then his hands pull gently, urging you to step closer. He’s tall enough that sitting, even with you in heels, you’re face to face. He releases one hand, reaching up to brush back your hair, wild strands that escaped your careful French twist. His eyes rival the neon glow of the city as they travel your face, his expression soft in a way you’ve never seen before. 

He leans towards you.

“Are you sure?” Your words stop his movement, just inches away from you, quiet but solid as a wall. “He’s right. I’m just some waitress in a crappy diner on the edge of town who makes good coffee.”

A slight smirk, the one you have seen in many of his routines and publicity shots because it is so alluring, so captivating.

“Someone who can actually make good coffee is so hard to find,” he quips softly and you laugh, a breathless sound of nervousness and wonder. His grin widens at the sound. “There you are.” He nudges your nose with his. “Now, can we get on with the business of me kissing you?”

“If we have to,” you murmur and you feel the way his hand squeezes yours, the startled, delighted laugh that escapes him. 

“You’re lucky you’re so lovely….” he sighs, his voice low and warm and just for your ears. He trails off and then without warning closes the distance between you and kisses you.

Your diner sells every type of pie imaginable. So many varieties of cookies, muffins, doughnuts and pastries. You’ve tasted them all. And not one of them comes close to the sweetness of kissing Clavis Lelouch. Despite his initiating things, his kiss feels almost shy.  HIs lips are pressed against yours, cloying and warm, yet chaste. His arms wrap around your waist and pull you even closer. You slide your hands over his shoulders and then drape them around his neck. 

The gentle kiss breaks like stardust and you sigh happily, your whole body thrumming with something exciting and sweet, like possibility has injected itself into your soul and lifted you up out of a mundane existence and given you wings. When you open your eyes, you find him watching you, his breathing quick as he shakes his head ever so slightly.

“What’s wrong?” Worry prunes your feathers, anxiety stands ready to clip your newfound wings before you even take flight.

"I just-" He stops, his gaze moving over the planes of your face like he can't take you in fast enough, like a thirsty man gulping water, afraid it will be taken from his grasp at any moment. "I'm kind of a mess, Bright Eyes. The things I joke about, the family drama and how I feel about him and always trying to live up to what people expect…" The words tumble out, too fast and all at once, a pitcher spilling all of its content as it falls to the ground, about to break.

You tighten your arms around him, stop him from crashing.

"Hey…." You lean forward, touching his forehead with your own. "Everyone is messy."

His golden-hour eyes close. "There's a lot of baggage that comes with dating me. I don't know why you'd want to." His voice is barely a whisper, almost lost in the muted sound of traffic far below.

You nudge his nose with yours, getting him to open his eyes. What he sees is your smile, the one that brought him back to the diner again and again and again.

"Because you're the best tipper I've ever had," you answer wryly.

Again he laughs, pulled from the shadows of his own mind by your humor, your light. He slides off the ledge, keeping you within the circle of his arms.

"It's not going to be easy," he murmurs as he leans down, his lips brushing yours in the lightest of kisses.

"So what," you whisper back, head tipped back, eyes already closed. Again his lips touch yours, light and sweet and quick.

"You're not worried," he says against your lips, the words warm and soft.

"Not in the slightest," you manage before you rise up onto your toes and press your lips firmly to his, forcing him to accept the fact that all the monsters he thinks he is sheltering don't scare you in the least. You grasp the back of his neck with one hand and part your lips in invitation. Let me in. Let me love you.

He accepts and on his lips you taste the sweet thrill of a new beginner, his tongue and yours writing the first words of a new chapter for you both. 

As you hold each other under the glow of bright lights and dim stars, you find your heart lifting with joy.

Maybe in Hollywood, some dreams really do come true.

🎥

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @atelieredux @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesroseforclavis @somekidnamedkai @ikemen-prince-writers-posts @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @ikehoe @redheadkittys @themysticalbeing @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @queen-dahlia @moonstruck-writing @scorchieart

[viatagrinner]

Gilbert von Obsidian. Christmas. I give you my love.

Chapter 1

Gazebo in the garden

Christmas is coming soon in Rhodolite. MC received an invitation from Sariel to the Christmas Ball.

(...I'm looking forward to it.)

It's snowing. The girl catches snowflakes with her hands.

Suddenly another hand appeared behind her.

???: You're acting like a child, aren't you?

She froze, and the cold tips of Gilbert's fingers slid up her wrist.

The other hand also reached out from behind MC and tied a black ribbon around her back.

MC: ...What is that?

Gilbert: This is proof that you are my Christmas present.

Gilbert: Thanks. I'll take good care of my present.

The girl doesn't understand a thing.

MC: ....So I'm your Christmas present?

Gilbert: Of course. So all your time at Christmas is mine. I'm happy to have it all to myself.

The heroine tries to say she has plans, but the prince from Obsidian reminds her of her hospitality.

MC: .....Master Gilbert is more important.

Gilbert: Right? It's great that you didn't turn me down.

Gilbert: As expected, I don't want to do anything dangerous for Christmas.

Gilbert: Will you be wearing a ribbon on the day of the event as well?

MC: Why?

Gilbert: It's easier for people to know that "it's mine."

After saying goodbye, Gilbert left.

(...Unfortunately, I'm not going to the ball...)

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

Christmas Fair

Gilbert rejoices and tastes a lot of food.

Even the vendor praises him for his good appetite.

The girl thinks about the fact that no one but her knows that this gluttonous man is, in fact, a prince from Obsidian.

The vendor gives more sweets.

Gilbert: Thanks. Don't just stand there, Miss Bunny. Look at me... Yum.

He put a cookie in her mouth, MC was already full, so she only took a bite, the rest was finished by the prince.

Noticing another store, he hurries there. His hands are already full of bags of food, as are the girl's hands, but he wants more.

The girl never ceases to marvel at his bottomless belly.

Gilbert calls for Lucien. Out of the shadows appears the long-haired soldier/knight whom Chevalier had placed to spy on Gilbert.

Gilbert took the luggage from MC's hands and handed it to Lucien.

Thus Lucien went from spy to grocery porter.

Gilbert: I let him follow me, so that's quite normal, isn't it?

The prince comes closer...

Gilbert: Jealous we weren't alone together?

The girl protests vehemently.

(Master Gilbert has a lot of jokes like that, so that's a problem.)

Gilbert: Ahaha, I'm bored.

He pinches MC's nose.

The prince, however, is in a good mood. The people are friendly to him and he himself is friendly.

Who would have thought that the figure enjoying the Christmas fair was the Conqueror Beast.

Gilbert: If Miss Bunny wants something, I'll buy it for her, too. You can think of me as your wallet, okay?

The girl refuses. But she sees strawberry pies on the counter.

MC: Wow...that looks delicious!

Gilbert: Yeah, the skill of begging.

He ordered 30 pieces of pie/cake.

Gilbert nonchalantly takes the heroine's hand and starts walking.

Before she knew it, she was smiling as she watched the prince having fun.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

The main square. At the fountain.

Gilbert: Now, here comes the real fun.

It turns out the fair is not the main event. The prince is planning to meet a friend.

MC: Your...friend?

Gilbert: Why do you look so surprised? I know how to make friends.

Prince has a different notion of "friend" from the conventional wisdom.

(By Master Gilbert's standards, I am his "friend," too.)

People are forced to become his "friends."

The prince wants to introduce MC to his friend because it's Christmas. The girl asks Gilbert if his friend is a bad person. Gilbert hums.

MC: Hey, wait! What kind of smile is that?

Gilbert: If you follow me, you'll understand.

Heroine worries, but if Lucien is around, it's probably not dangerous.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

Alley.

Miss worries, but sees a bunch of children. The sound of the prince's cane makes them turn around.

Girl: Ah, it's Gil!

Boy: It's brother Gil!

(Gil.... brother...?)

Gilbert: Ah ha, no. I'm Santa Claus today.

Gilbert's Masterlist

[yarnnerdally]

Hello again, Ally! 🥰 Here to request more Clavis 'Lulu' Lelouch content 🙈 May I pretty please with the sweetest of cherries on top request: 15 + Clavis + sfw? I'm really curious as to how he'd react to finding a lost child. I wonder how good he's with children 🤔 Thank you so much, cutie pie! I'll be back for more great content from you muahahaha 😈

Huehuehue I love this stupid prompt. I also love how this prompt made it into the IkeVamp story event recently for Arthur. It melted my hearttttttt.

BUT. Now on to Clavis.

Now he shall melt your heart. And mine T.T

Title: Tenderhearted

Pairing: Clavis/MC

Rating: SFW, T (for general plotting of shenanigans)

Prompt: Literally finding a child.

Tags: lost child, impromptu child care, crying child, comfort, soft!Clavis is !soft, sweet fluff

     It was a sound he’d heard, of course, though he wasn’t sure the last time he heard it at the palace and in the gardens, no less. He could hear a small child crying. A tug pulled in his chest and against his better judgement, Clavis was walking straight towards the crying. He groaned internally as he simultaneously shoved the small... presents... he had for Sariel into one of the interior pockets of his coat. Pranking would have to wait, as much as it pained him to do so. He came into a small clearing within a cluster of pink rose bushes and saw the little boy there and his internal monologue contradicted his every movement. “Hey, little one. Where did you come from, hm?” He did his best to put on a calming, genuine smile to soothe the toddler, if Clavis was to guess his age. No more than five by the looks of it. The little boy began to cry less and stared up at the third prince, hiccuping slightly.

     “I-I los’ mama!” As soon as the words left his lips, the boy began to cry more earnestly, rubbing at the tears that streamed from his eyes. Gods, he was going to regret this if anyone saw. Clavis hushed him quietly and reached out to hold a little hand.

     “Well. It just so happens that I’m one of the princes here. And did you know that all of the Princes of Rhodolite are very good mama finders?” He asked gently, smiling without realizing it as the boy began to calm down again. “I’ll help you find your mama, little one. What’s your name?” 

     “E-Ezra,” he answered, coughing and sniffling as he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his other arm. “You’re really gonna help me find mama?” Clavis grinned and nodded, standing next to him. He was quite glad Ezra was able to reach his hand as well. No stooping today. His smile faltered as he saw someone who, by the looks of it, had seen far too much of this interaction.

     Emma.

     She looked as shocked as he did, thankfully. Though it wasn’t long before she began to grin and Clavis thought to himself that maybe being... regrettably a little soft wasn’t the worst thing in the world. “Ah! And over here, we have our darling Emma. I’m most certain that if we ask her nicely that she’d be willing to help us.” A small laugh came from Emma as she approached them finally; Clavis could see a million questions swirling behind her eyes. Ezra’s eyes went wide as he saw her and gasped a little, quickly looking to Clavis and tugging on his arm. Clavis made a small noise before looking down to him again.

     “I bet she can! She looks kinda like mama! Her hair is the same!” Ezra half-shouted excitedly, almost all traces of a meltdown gone barring the dried tear tracks on his face. Clavis grinned and looked to Emma who seemingly could see what was about to spring forth from his lips.

     “Ah. More beautiful than any rose in all of Rhodolite, then. Good. We have something to start with,” his grin grew wickedly as Emma began to blush. He offered his elbow to her and she raised a brow. “Come now, Emma. We must find Ezra’s mama. It’s of the utmost importance.” Relenting, Emma nodded. 

     “I was actually out here looking for Ezra,” she said lightly, smiling down at the little boy as they began to walk back to the palace. “I’d heard from the maids that the young Marquise de Paradis’ son had gotten lost on the way to tea.” Ezra looked a little embarrassed but Emma smiled. “But. We’ve found him and his mama, I know, is missing him terribly.” He looked up to her with shining eyes before grinning.

     “Well. That settles it! We simply must press on. My little gift for Sariel can wait until tomorrow!” Emma blinked and looked to Clavis, a slow realization coming to her face. She was about to speak but bit her tongue as she remembered their company.

     “ ‘S that the scary guy with glasses?” Ezra asked, looking confused as Clavis started laughing. Oh this was good. This was almost too good. 

     “It is, it is! Ah, well. I suppose him witnessing this won’t be the worst travesty I’ve ever witnessed.” ‘I may never live it down. But... its worth it,’ he trailed off in thought, keenly aware of the softer look Emma was giving him now. “Anyways. Time to find mama!” Ezra cheered and Emma laughed a little, her grip on his arm barely tightening. Clavis’ heart clamored in his chest (it had a bad habit of doing that whenever Emma was around) as they continued on. 

     ‘I suppose there are worse things. That smile isn’t one of them, thats for sure.’

[jahaliel]

The OC Interview

I was tagged by the lovely @i-dropped-the-chief RULES

1. PICK ONE OF YOUR CHARACTERS

2. FILL IN THE QUESTIONS/STATEMENTS AS IF YOU ARE BEING INTERVIEWED FOR AN ARTICLE AND YOU WERE THE MUSE.

3. TAG PEOPLE TO DO THIS MEME: No - unless you see this and want to. Under a cut for length, all about my gal Nemo.

1. WHAT IS YOUR NAME? Lady Nemo D’Vidas, she who does not Sleep

2. WHAT IS YOUR REAL NAME? [Nemo raises an eyebrow and the interviewer coughs and moves on]

3. DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU WERE CALLED THAT? I took this name for personal reasons.  The title was a gift from the people of Vidas whom I saved.

4. ARE YOU SINGLE OR TAKEN? I will not be answering questions about my relationships.

5. HAVE ANY ABILITIES OR POWERS? Yes.  And in self-interest and the off-chane you may be a spy for New Elvhenan I will not be detailing them.

6. STOP BEING A MARY SUE. You have one question to convince me that continuing this interview would be a good idea.

7. WHAT’S YOUR EYE COLOR? [Nemo rolls her eyes just a little, sighs and then answers] Currently they are grey.

8. HOW ABOUT YOUR HAIR COLOR? It is the colour of Rhodolite garnets.

9. HAVE YOU ANY FAMILY MEMBERS? Yes.

10. OH? WHAT ABOUT PETS? Not at this time.

11. NOW TELL ME ABOUT SOMETHING YOU DON’T LIKE. This interview.  Wasting my time.  People who judge without understanding.

12. DO YOU HAVE ANY HOBBIES/ACTIVITIES YOU LIKE DOING? I enjoy music.  No I will not sing for your amusement.  I also enjoy reading and practicing my weapons work.

13. EVER HURT ANYONE BEFORE? Yes.  I have fought in several wars for the safety of the world. 14. EVER…KILLED ANYONE BEFORE? I believe I just mentioned the wars?

15. WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU? [As this question leaves the interviewers mouth, he blinks and is suddenly no longer in the comfortable house that belongs to the Lady of Vidas.  Instead he is in the wilderness, the sun is setting with no supplies.  Nemo smiles slightly, and grabs the list of question he’d left behind]

16. NAME YOUR WORST HABITS. No, I don’t think I’ll answer that one. But maybe some of these will be decent questions.

17. DO YOU LOOK UP TO ANYONE AT ALL? There are several people who are a big influence on how I live my life.

18. GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BISEXUAL? None of your business - if I hadn’t kicked him out before then this might have done it.  Not to mention the lack of other options.

19. DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL? I’m *cough* over 9000.  I do enjoy learning but I haven’t done formal schooling in long years.

20. DO YOU EVER WANT TO MARRY AND HAVE KIDS ONE DAY? If I did (again) I would not be here.  And no children.

21. DO YOU HAVE ANY FANBOYS/FANGIRLS? The people of Vidas insist on a bunch of shiny titles so I guess?

22. WHAT ARE YOU MOST AFRAID OF? At this point not much phases me.  I guess its that I’ll never be good enough.

23. WHAT DO YOU USUALLY WEAR? Whatever I feel like. 

24. DO YOU LOVE SOMEONE? Yes.

25. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WET YOURSELF? [Nemo rolls her eyes and wonders if the large pack of predators are still nearby.  They’d appreciate a nice meal.]

26. WELL, IT’S NOT OVER YET! [Nemo stifles a giggle]

27. WHAT CLASS ARE YOU? (HIGH CLASS, MIDDLE CLASS, LOW CLASS) I am the Lady of Vidas.

28. HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU HAVE? I appreciate each and every one of my friends.

29. WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON PIE? Pie is good.

30. FAVORITE DRINK? Jasmine tea

31. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE PLACE? The mountains of Alderaan, The forests of Victoria, The fields of Vidas.

32. ARE YOU INTERESTED IN SOMEONE… ...

33. WHAT’S YOUR BRA CUP SIZE AND/OR HOW BIG IS YOUR WILLY? ...

34. WOULD YOU RATHER SWIM IN THE LAKE OR THE OCEAN? Ocean.

35. WHAT’S YOUR TYPE? ...

36. ANY FETISHES? ...

37. SEME OR UKE? TOP OR BOTTOM? DOMINANT OR SUBMISSIVE? ... ...

38. CAMPING OR INDOORS? Indoors although I do enjoy the occasional camping trip.

39. ARE YOU WANTING THIS QUIZ TO END? It’s a good thing that the reporter isn’t here.  Remind me to make sure they are vetted more carefully before the next time I agree to an interview