#ikemen prince oc

[ruribun]

matching outfit y2k Realness cuties <333

[ by @/illy on crepe !! ] 🩷

[dododrawsstuff]

Commission I did for @keithsandwich She always has super cute ideas, this time inspired by this post and I loved it so much!! Thank you so much for letting me draw them for you, also, little baby Aster is so adorable 😭 I want to squish his cheeks

Twitter | Kofi | commission info

[lorei-writes]

Do you love OCs? Well, we do too, and we'd like to meet them! OC Teahouse: OPEN NOW!

What is OC Teahouse?

OC Teahouse is a Tumblr community dedicated to Ikemen Fandom OCs. Come there to share & browse OC works, brainstorm ideas & roleplay with others!

Let's all share a cup of tea! >:) Can our OCs become friends?

How do I join?

Click this link [link] or reach out to @lorei-writes or @noirsariel for an invitation.

Copy of community guidelines below the cut.

Boosting would be appreciated!

Community Guidelines

Be respectful.

We do not condone exclusive shipping. While in the Teahouse, we assume a multiverse-type situation, meaning that multiple versions of a single suitor exist independently at the same time.

Encouragement is welcome.

You may share works featuring your OC. Use #fic, #art, #moodboard to label your work appropriately. Any crafts (paper crafts, amigurumi, felted objects, etc.) go under #art.

In posts about your OC, use #[short for your OC's game of origin -- IkeSen, IkePri, IkeVamp, etc.] & # [short for your OC's game of origin] [your OC's name]

Any NSFW posts must be tagged as #nsfw and come with an appropriate Tumblr content label.

[violettduchess]

A/N: Another entry for my and @lorei-writes Falling for Fall CC!

Clavis x OC Marigold

Prompt: Rain (fluff)

WC: 1k

The carriage sways slightly from side to side as if gently dancing to the rhythm of the raindrops that fall on its roof. Outside, the driver wraps his cloak a bit tighter around his shoulders as water trickles in small streams off the wide brim of his hat. The experienced horses pick their way carefully across the increasingly muddy road, eager to get back to the palace where their warm stables and dry hay are waiting. Inside, the carriage’s two occupants are staring at each other.

One is smiling, the other scowling.

One is dry, the other dripping wet.

One’s eyes are twinkling like golden stars, the other’s eyes are narrowed, a storm of glaring gray.

“You know, most people would have considered the sky before heading out on foot so far from the palace. It’s been cloudy all day.”

Clavis leans back against the plush purple velvet of the carriage seat, his voice practically glowing with amusement.

Marigold’s lips press together, annoyance forming a straight line. Water drips from her now soggy chignon, trickling down her bare neck and soaking into the already wet collar of her dress, the color of which the rain has darkened from ochre to nearly brown.

“I told you. I wanted to collect mushrooms.” The basket is resting by her feet, the wicker glistening with water. “I read they only grow in the western part of the forest and it didn’t look quite so far on the maps.”

He grins slowly. “Aren’t you lucky that a handsome prince just happened to be traveling along the same, lonesome road you were walking upon? A few more minutes in that rain and you would have grown gills.”

The corner of her mouth ticks up for a moment and he feels an unexpected, surprising rush of satisfaction.

She shuts down the smile before it can blossom.

“Maybe,” she mutters, “If you hadn’t asked me if I was enjoying my stroll before inviting me into the carriage I would be capable of showing more gratitude.” She attempts to cross her arms, however her dress is damp and stiff and it makes the motion far less smooth than she would have hoped.

He observes her a moment and then leans forward, pulling off his long white coat, the golden tassels on the shoulders swinging enthusiastically. He holds it out to her.

“You’re cold. Here.”

Pride has her shake her head, little drops of water jettisoning left and right. “I’m fine.”

A moment of silence and then without warning, Clavis reaches forward, impulsively brushing the back of his bare fingers across her cheek. She gasps at both the unexpected warmth of his skin and the boldness of his gesture.

His gaze locks with hers and the shiver that runs through her has nothing to do with any chill.

“Apologies for ruffling your feathers, little owl. But I am simply proving that you need this more than I do. Now….may I?”

She nods, adjusting her gold-rimmed glasses and leans forward, allowing him to drape his coat more evenly across her shoulders. He’s closer to her than he has ever been before and she catches the scent of rain mixed with something familiar and soothing: lavender. 

He pauses, glancing at her, his hands still on her shoulders. A turn of the head, a sudden lurch of the carriage, a yank on his cravat and their lips would touch. Marigold is transfixed, unable to look away from the bright gold of his eyes and Clavis is searching hers intently, a man looking for answers in the silver of her gaze.

What is she doing?!

She pulls back quickly, sucking in a deep breath as if that will slow the wild hammering of her heart and the delicate moment breaks like a spider’s web in the wind. Clavis leans back, adjusting his jacket with one hand, pretending to straighten it. The lightning in the carriage is dim: only a small oil lamp swings from one of the corners to fight the gloom, and so the shadows hide the flush of color that paints both of their cheeks.

“Thank you,” she manages to say after clearing her throat.

“The lady is most welcome.” His tone is light, airy, and yet somehow sounds….hollow. He tries to sound casual, but there is something quite serious happening inside his heart.

They continue along the road to the palace in silence until Marigold frowns, lifting her gaze to look at the prince.

“Clavis?”

He’s staring out the window, uncharacteristically quiet, but turns, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Yes, Marigold?”

“The road you were on when you found me.”

Something in his expression shifts. He knows where this is going but doesn’t interrupt her. He simply raises his eyebrows, waiting for her to continue.

“It doesn’t go anywhere but the forest. There is no reason to be on it unless you’re heading into or out of the woods.”

Now his smile is genuine, soft in a way that she hasn’t seen before. He shrugs, trying to make the gesture seem relaxed and nonchalant.

“Perhaps I felt like a woodland walk.” He glances at her. “Or…..maybe I knew a certain researcher would be so intent on collecting her mushrooms that she might misjudge the distance and ignore the signs of inclement weather.”

Marigold’s lips part but no sound comes out. He specifically went out….looking for her?

He begins to talk again, this time about the upcoming Autumn Ball and all the delightful guests that will be attending, his words a waterfall of sound that he hides behind to cover the magnitude of care he has shown for her.

Marigold leans back, adjusting his large, warm coat. His scent surrounds her, his voice fills the enclosed space.

Despite the rain and her wet hair and soaked clothes….she doesn’t feel uncomfortable. 

Being here with Clavis, in fact, feels…..warm and safe. 

It feels like home.

Marigold turns her gaze to the carriage window, her heart suddenly beating swiftly.

How….what….why?

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

@tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @writingwhimsey @silver-dahlia @wendolrea

@myonlyjknight @ikesimpleton @namine-somebodies-nobody @whatever-fanfics

@chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @mastering-procrastinating @portrait-ninja

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

@chi-the-idiot @bubblex @keithsandwich @bestbryn @ikeprinces-stuff

[yonaaaahowell]

Finally, a cute and beautiful commissioned art of my OC, Yona! 💙💚

Meet Yona 💙💚🥰☺😊

Attire is inspired from the game itself!!! 💙💙

The necklace from Keith's CG!

Artist: Rizana 💙💚

[ikeprinces-stuff]

Event: Falling For Fall Hosted by: @violettduchess & @lorei-writes Prompt: Gossamer (fluff)

WC: 694

TW : insomnia Previous prompt: Rain. Foraging. Moon. Gold Characters: Nokto Klein & Prince OC [Vernard Mürrisch] A/N: This was hard for me to write since it took me a long time to understand the meaning of the word 'gossamer' 😅

🕸️[𝐆𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬]🍂

The carriage rolled through the moonlit streets, the crisp autumn air seeping in through the slightly ajar window. Leaves, the color of burnt umber and crimson, danced in the faint glow of the streetlamps, their fragile forms like gossamer caught in a gentle breeze. Inside, Vernard, his moonlight-white hair framing a face etched with quiet weariness, leaned back against the plush cushions, a subtle sigh escaping his lips. Nokto, ever the picture of effortless charm, sat beside him, his silver hair gleaming under the dim light, his crimson eyes alight with a mischievous glint.

"My, my, Vernard," Nokto drawled, a teasing lilt to his voice. "It seems the ladies were quite taken with your quiet demeanor tonight. Almost as if they were trying to… whisk you away."

Vernard, never one for elaborate social interactions, simply dismissed the remark with a faint, "Nonsense." His jade eyes, usually sharp and watchful, held a hint of fatigue.

"Oh, come now," Nokto chuckled, sensing the other's desire to end the conversation. "Surely, you don't believe me when I say that your presence was quite the spectacle tonight."

Vernard, recognizing the subtle change in Nokto's tone, knew his brother was trying to gauge his mental state. He sighed again, a deeper sound this time. "I excused myself early. You didn't need to follow me back."

Nokto's teasing facade faded slightly. "I was simply tired of the festivities, so I decided to return." He paused, a hint of sweetness lacing his voice. "Though, one must wonder why such a diligent guardian chose to leave so early. Rest is crucial, especially before unexpected surprises might unfold…"

Vernard's lips tightened, a flicker of irritation in his eyes. "One rests when one dies, Nokto. A guardian's duty knows no respite, no matter how tempting slumber may be. Eyes must remain open, even when the body yearns to close them."

Nokto's gaze softened, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Oh, Vernard. There's no need to encrypt your insomnia in such dramatic fashion. We both know that sleep doesn't come easily for you."

Vernard flinched, a subtle twitch of his right ear, his only giveaway of discomfort. He quickly scratched it, pretending not to have heard Nokto.

The silence that followed was filled with unspoken words, the rustling of the carriage and the whisper of autumn leaves. It was a silent understanding between the two princes, a bond of shared experiences, and perhaps, a touch of unspoken sympathy on Nokto's part.

Nokto continued, the teasing tone returning, though with a gentler touch. "You know, the palace residents are starting to miss your ever-present… organization. Leon, Jin, Yves, Licht… even Sariel."

Vernard's lips curved into a slight, almost imperceptible smile. "I want them to get used to it. It's one of the reasons I find myself accompanying you and the rest to these… arduous endeavours."

Nokto chuckled, a warmth in his voice. "You say that every time you leave the palace for days on end, yet they refuse to let you truly disappear from their sight. They'll never quite understand your desire for distance."

Vernard leaned forward, his gaze distant, as if looking past the carriage windows toward an undefined horizon. "I will manage, Nokto. One day, the name 'Vernard Mürrisch' will be nothing but a forgotten echo. It's my ambition."

Nokto's smile faded slightly. He knew Vernard meant every word, the desire for anonymity, for escape from the suffocating palace life. But he only let out a light laugh, choosing to brush the comment aside, hiding his understanding and a flicker of concern for the other. He looked at Vernard, mirroring Licht's understanding way of seeing the world, a sympathy that only few could see.

The carriage finally pulled up to the palace gates, the sprawling stone structure a looming silhouette against the star-studded sky. The autumn air, now a tangible presence, seemed to hold its breath as the two brothers exited the carriage, and walked towards the palace, each carrying their own burdens and secrets.

The gossamer threads of their complicated relationship, like the fragile autumn leaves, danced in the uncertain breeze, a testament to the delicate and intricate tapestry of their intertwined lives.

Fin ❤️✨

[noirsariel]

The Examination

A drabble about IkePri Oliver and his work.

The slide locks into place and the examination begins.

Oliver's eye combs over the sample before him. A patient arrived at a clinic in Rhodolite with an inflamed wound. The doctor had taken a sample and sent it over to be identified to ensure proper treatment, but also to track if this sort of infection was becoming too common in Rhodolite and warranted further attention.

He knew his job - identify, compare, advise treatment based off of previous data. At no point would Oliver see this patient, he wouldn't even know his name in an ideal situation. He was just another patient who needed help. If all was well, he'd hear from the doctor soon enough.

"Thank you," they would say, "that was it. The patient is well again." Those were good cases. Not every case was this fortunate.

Underneath the microscope's lens, he could see the skin cells and some muscle. He moves the glass slide along. What's not supposed to be here? What was causing the patient distress?

That was the joy of his work, it was the epitome of classification, of finding order in an otherwise chaotic world. True, not every disease was one that he could help with, there were things too small, too intricate for his lab to detect, but the things he found had names. They had shapes. They had expected behavior. He just had to find it and name it.

In between skin cells, he sees his target. A bullet like shape that shouldn't be there. He rotates the lens to look closer. There are hair-like proteins protruding from the bacteria, entangling itself within the open wound. He writes down his observation and backs off to grab one of his books.

These books were proof of that order. Everything he saw was catalogued there along with quick notes of what these pathogens looked like, what did he know they could cause, what could cure them.

However, there was the troubling part of his work - the cures. What worked yesterday may fail the next day and he has to give a pithy answer to a doctor. "It seems it no longer responds to penicillin - have you tried ceftazidime?" He would have to say. To be outwitted by something so small that it was only visible on these lenses was humbling.

What was on his slide was likely Pseudomonas aeruginosa. It wasn't strange to find it in a wound, but looking at his notes, the events were not clustered enough to warrant any alarm. He returned to his notes. A shot of antibiotics ought to do it and the man should be well.

He takes his notes and tears them out of the notebook. They are placed in an envelope. Tomorrow, a courier will come around and the doctor will receive the results of the test. However, for now, Oliver can take the slide and move it to the side.

He takes a new slide and slides it into place and the process begins anew.

[silkkorchid]

Ok here is Ikepri!Amaryllis

Ikepri!Amaryllis prefer to close her eyes, but she is well acquaintances with Emma as she is one of her regular.

She was originally from Ruby but came to Rhodolite to escape the civil war.

Her work is an apothecary, as she is used to treating patients that have been poisoned

She is not loyal to any kingdoms, but more over staying on neutral grounds than getting herself in trouble

Tag list: @sh0jun

[ruribun]

silmiu date in benitoite <3

[dododrawsstuff]

Kofi membership reward for @wistfulwanderingone !! She asked me to draw Clavis and her OC Cassandra! They're so cute and happy together 😭 she's also writing their story, you should definitely check it out!!

Kofi

[lorei-writes]

And so, the brainrot has been realised... Both, as suggested. Both.

@m-mmiy @keithsandwich @pathogenic @bicayaya @venulus @floydsteeth because I remember you from the og poll post >///<

[vernys-atelier]

It's my birthday...

*runs and hides in his room like every year*

[violettduchess]

A/N: I was a wee bit annoyed yesterday at the anon that seemed to be lamenting writers "suddenly" having OCs. So I wrote a short fic with mine because a) IT'S FUN and b) I felt like it. OCs are awesome and we should celebrate the creativity they represent!

My OC Leyla Quinn x Silvio, established relationship

One shot: Silvio and his fiancée on a rainy night in Rhodolite

WC: 1k

The ornate door to one of the royal suites inside the elegant Rhodolite palace swings open, bringing with it the scent of orange blossoms that always precedes Silvio’s fiancée. Leyla herself follows a moment later, shaking the rainwater out of her hair and kicking the door shut behind her. She had already removed her muddy boots before setting foot back inside the grand palace, walking barefoot through the palace and back to the suite, much to the servants' astonishment. Most people would not have been that thoughtful.

“God damn, who knew you’d get rain like this so far away from the sea?” Water drops fall from her like tiny pearls, littering the rich carpet with little dark spots.

The newspaper Silvio has been attempting to read is thrown aside as he shoots to his feet, annoyance written in every line of his face.

“Where the hell have you been?” His tone is sharp with displeasure, loud with irritation. It would have sent many others a step backwards in surprise, flinching with unease.

Leyla doesn’t even look away from wringing out her long, dark hair.

“Down, boy. Watch who you’re barking at.” She straightens up, but doesn’t stop moving, unbuttoning the front of her damp navy blue overcoat with quick, practiced fingers.

“Woman, you said you would be back before dark and that was an hour ago.” He’s watching her with narrowed eyes as she peels off her coat, then turns, walking into the bathroom, but not before revealing a quick glimpse of a white blouse now covered in tantalizing, transparent patches.

He breathes out, collecting his thoughts. Don't get distracted, Silvio. She had him fucking worried. He's pissed. She's gotta know that he was sitting here, watching the storm through the windows, wondering if she was ok. So yeah, stay focused. Focused.

When she returns, she’s hung all of her wet clothing over the rim of the large porcelain bathtub and is now wrapped in a fluffy white oversized bathrobe with a charming red Rhodolitian rose embroidered above her heart. Her hair is still damp with rainwater, a curtain of dark waves that smells like springtime and daydreams, spilling over her shoulders and down her back. 

His breath catches in his chest. She's so damn beautiful.

“I lost track of the hour as I was visiting Oliver in his lab and he was telling me about his latest-”

Fuck staying focused.

“Don’t care.”

Silvio crosses the room in just two long strides, wrapping an arm around Leyla’s waist and pulls her to him, overcome with the desperate need to feel her against him. He ducks his head, closing his eyes as he breathes in deeply, orange blossoms and rainwater, desire and love.

Feeling the way his strong hands hold her close brings a smile to her face. With Silvio, it never feels like he’s trapped her. It’s possessiveness, yes, but never a cage. It’s protection and want. It’s security and comfort. It’s a promise to never let go.

His mouth eagerly travels the line of her neck, brushing aside her hair for better access. Hunger spreads like wildfire through her veins but his kisses also carry something else, something more delicate, something vulnerable and silken within their heated depths.

Leyla grins slowly. “Missed me that much, did you?” 

His “Shuddup” is muffled as he kisses his way up towards her mouth and she starts to laugh. Even now, after all they have been through together, he still gets flustered, reluctant to reveal that tender part of him that she knows is there, the one that belongs to her and only her. 

“Aw, pup, were you pining for me? Counting down the minutes until I returned, each one an eternity as you ached with–Ahh!”

Her teasing is cut off as he swiftly hoists her up and over his shoulder, turning and stalking towards the canopied bed with its red and gold bed covers and gold satin pillows.

“That’s enough out of you, wench,” he grunts as he tosses her down, the sound of her delighted laugh filling the room and warming him more than any fire ever could.

He wraps his long fingers around her wrists, pinning them up by her head. She looks up at him, sky-blue eyes flashing with something just as bright and brilliant as the lightning outside, the echo of her laughter lingering as a smile.

“Hey Silvio?”

He doesn’t know where to settle his gaze. Her hair is a pool of ebony waves around her, her luxurious robe has slipped off of one shoulder to reveal an enticing amount of skin, and there’s still that smile on those lips….

“Yeah?” The word is a rasp from the back of his throat.

“Guess who loves you.”

His cheeks flush and he looks away, his chest rising and falling with every quick breath he takes.

“Goddamnit, sea witch, why–”

“No really, can you guess anyone? Cause I certainly can’t. For a prince, you’re rather annoying and loud and–”

She’s cut off as he lowers his mouth to hers with a growl, stopping her teasing words. More laughter bubbles within her chest as she hooks one leg around his and kisses him back with all her might. She can get away with teasing him like this because they both know the truth: they were two souls adrift in an endless sea of doubt who, despite the odds, have found safe harbor in each other’s arms. The journey may have been long, but now that they have conquered the darkness and the hidden perils of a dark ocean of uncertainty, she knows their hearts are so entwined, there is no untangling them.

He releases her wrists, intending to make quick work of her robe when she catches his face in her hands, holding him still. Her thumbs lighty stroke over his cheekbone as she searches his gaze.

“Hey.” One little word, soft and sincere, perhaps odd to any outsider but to them, it carries a weight far beyond its three letters. It’s the softest part of her heart reaching out to him, saying hello love of my life. Hello.

And he’s lost in the light of her eyes, the dulcet sound of her voice, the velvet of her touch. 

“Hey,” he murmurs quietly in return. I hear you, the word answers. And I love you too.

She smiles and closes her eyes as he leans down, pressing his lips to hers. An unspoken promise renewed on this rainy, Rhodolite night.

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

@redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @olivermorningstar @writingwhimsey

@mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight

@ikesimpleton @ikemenlibrary @namine-somebodies-nobody @cellophanediamond @whatever-fanfics

@justpeachyteastea @chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @mastering-procrastinating

@portrait-ninja @starlitmanor-network @sh0jun @queen-dahlia @themysticalbeing

@nightghoul381 @whitelittlebunny @chi-the-idiot @bubblexly @ozalysss

@keithsandwich @ikeprinces-stuff @bestbryn

[theunpaidtherapistsclub]

I repurposed my original OCs for my new hyperfixations

[ikeprinces-stuff]

Event: Falling For Fall Hosted by: @violettduchess & @lorei-writes Prompt: Cinnamon (fluff)

WC: 954 Previous prompt: Rain. Foraging. Moon. Gold. Gossamer Characters: Yves Kloss & Prince OC [Vernard Mürrisch] A/N: I love Yves so much! 😭🩷

🍁[𝐀 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐂𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧]🥞

As the leaves turned to vibrant hues of gold and crimson, the palace buzzed with preparations for the grand Fall Feast. The scent of cinnamon wafted through the air, mingling with the crisp autumn breeze. In the kitchen, Yves was busy, his hands moves gracefully with the soft flour while his honey-like blonde hair falling into his bright blue eyes as he carefully arranged his ingredients on the counter.

“Vernard!” he called, his tone light but commanding, “I need your help!”

Vernard, burdened by the weight of expectations and his younger brother’s insistence, hesitated in the doorway. He ran a hand through his hair, jade eyes matching the autumn-purposed decor. “Help with what exactly? Aren’t you already a master at this?”

Yves smirked, folding his arms as he leaned against the counter. “You know none of the others can be trusted not to gobble everything down before it’s even finished. This is where you come in. Have the honor of becoming my official taste taster.”

Despite his weak hearing, his ear picked up what Yves said, a lump formed in Vernard’s throat. He knew he was bad at dealing with sweet things, but the thought of disappointing Yves was worse. “I don’t think I’m the right candidate for that, Yves…” he murmured, anxiety tugging at him.

“Why not? You’re the only one I can count on to be disciplined,” Yves replied, a slight playful glint sparking in his eyes. “I'm in need for an honest critic, not a greedy goblin.”

Vernard swallowed hard and forced a smile, masking his true predicament. “I suppose... I can manage that.” But deep down, he felt a pang of dread. What if Yves noticed?

As he stepped closer, the kitchen filled with the mingled scents of spices and the soft crackle of pastries baking in the oven, all coated with a sweet promise of autumn delight. “What are you making anyway?” Vernard inquired, hoping to divert his brother’s attention.

“I’m experimenting with cinnamon pastries, inspired by the season.” Yves beamed, his pride evident. “I heard it’s a favorite.”

Vernard nodded, though the thought of pastries left him conflicted. “It sounds... delightful.”

“Delightful?” Yves echoed, an annoyance lilt in his voice. “You sound like you’d rather be anywhere but here.”

“Not at all!” Vernard’s heart raced. “I’m, uh, just focused! Really!”

Yves rolled his eyes. “Calm down, You’ll want to have some, trust me. Also, this time, I want honest feedback. No sugarcoating it… literally!”

“I understand,” Vernard replied, steeling himself. “I’ll do my best.”

Hours passed in a whirlwind of flour, sugar, and laughter. Yves was in his element, practically dancing around the kitchen as he pulled tray after tray of beautifully crafted pastries from the oven. But every time Vernard was offered a taste, his heart would stutter. If only Yves knew…

Eventually, Yves placed a steaming pastry shaped like a maple leaf in front of Vernard, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Ready?”

“Uh—sure!” Vernard picked it up, forcing himself to ignore the burning heaviness in his chest. He took a bite, the sweet scent washing over him as he tried to convince himself that he was tasting it.

But instead, all he felt was a dull echo of flavor on his tongue.

Yves leaned in, eagerness written across his face. “What do you think?”

“It’s… it’s very… autumn...” Vernard stammered, summoning every ounce of creativity he had to interpret the moment. “The cinnamon feels right. And… the texture is especially lovely!”

Yves narrowed his eyes, a hint of suspicion playing on his lips. “You’re dodging the question. You know you could just admit you don’t like my baking.”

“No! I mean, yes! Well—” Vernard fumbled over his words, the truth nearly slipping out. “It’s not that. I just, um, really enjoy watching you bake.”

“Nice try.” Yves said, “But you never join me at tea parties. Why is that? Is my baking really so terrible that it scares you? Is it as bad as Clavis's cooking?”

Deep down, Vernard was wrestling with his fears. “No, it’s just—”

“Just what?” Yves pressed, unapologetically curious.

“It’s that—” Vernard quickly backpedaled, trying to maintain his composure. “I just… have other things to do. You know how it is.”

Yves rolled his eyes, the pride of a brother aware of the cracks in Vernard’s facade. “You’re just making excuses. You must have some reason. Tell me, what’s going on?”

Vernard opened his mouth, the urge to confess nearly overwhelming him, but he watched as Yves's blue eyes sparkled with determination and genuine care. He couldn’t burden him with his problem, not when he was so determined to share his talent. “Really, Yves. You don’t need me to taste your cooking. I know you don’t need the validation.”

Yves folded his arms, leaning against the counter as he regarded his older brother. “Oh, but I do.” He narrowed his eyes playfully. “This time, I’m baking for the feast, It’s special. And if you don't want to taste it, well, I’ll just have to make you a few batches until you find something you do like.”

“That sounds…” Vernard started, skin tinged with embarrassment, “like you’re treating me like a child.”

“Perhaps you need a little pampering!” Yves shot back, mischief dancing in his tone. “Now, come here and help me roll this dough.”

As Vernard stepped forward, he felt the heaviness of his secrets pressing inwardly, but in the midst of flour fights and laughter that echoed against the walls, he found comfort in their shared moments. Perhaps today wouldn’t be the day he revealed his taste for bittersweetness. Instead, he would embrace the warmth of the season and the joy of brotherhood that cinnamon rolls and laughter could conjure.

[tulipsaisle]

Introducing My OC: Shiloh Hayes of Ikemen Prince

Please to meet our girl:

Shiloh Hayes

Rhodolite's Sassy Little Flower

"I'll be honest with you, that one prince acts like a fox in heat when he sees a woman."

A young countryside maiden who moved to the capital so she could start her florist bookkeeper dream. She's always keen to learn about the world, especially about her own country and its prosperity over the years despite the struggles. Her beauty's like a flower yes, but she's a flower with thorns - she may look innocent and ditzy, but don't let that fool you for she has the quickest, sharpest comeback that'll probably put you in a coffin.

Others: She grew up in a faraway village with her mom who owns a big flower garden and a small barn. She moved to live in the capital not long after The Bloodstained Rose Day. Shiloh has many personalities with the princes - specifically Nokto. She acts like she hates him but she enjoys his company (although she won't admit it)

Birthday: 26th May Height: 162cm Occupation: florist and bookkeeper Hobbies: Reading, planting flowers, cooking, browsing for clothes Favorite Food: Fricasse Likes: flowers, books, pretty wardrobes, her mom (she loves her very much) Dislikes: rowdy men Personality: She's nice and friendly, usually keeps to herself, judges people in her head and outside her head, sassy and snarky, a tsundere, she's an adorable excited baby when talks about her hobbies (especially fashion), if being teased and she couldn't find a comeback she'll blush (HARD), she has alcohol tolerance (surprise surprise) but is crazy when drunk Pairing: Nokto Klein

Nokto's Love Rival: Jin, Clavis, Silvio and Kagari

Special Mentions: @chandeliermichel @judejazza @celiciaa @flimflam707 @oni-girx @rachoka @sako-mii @jksbdgrl @sh0jun