#ythmir fanfics

[ythmir-writes]

dr. zayne "i'll use my body as payment" and "i always pay my debts" is all bark bark woof woof at first but then i remember his Myths and -

or, what you (i) would like to say the moment zayne decides its a good time to self-sacrifice

i hold his hand tightly, pull him back into a tight embrace because No, you don't have to, you don't have to do this zayne. there is no situation dire enough to come to pass in this world that should warrant that extreme a sacrifice

do you think you going on there and freezing yourself so you can stop a Wanderer attack will make tomorrow a little brighter? do you think its only you specifically who can save us all from the worst case scenario and save the world? dr im-so-brilliant-i-finished-medical-school-and-got-a-license-in-the-time-it-takes-someone-to-sneeze?

i dont want your sacrifice! i dont want to walk on roads paved with your bones. i dont fucking want to live in cities thawing from your frost because you thought unleashing a blizzard only you could do and wiping yourself out in the process would be a brilliant move to protect them. i dont want to take the cup that holds your blood, i do not want to have to look at the world and see you only in memory.

i want you here. i want you holding my hand. i want you poking at my forehead because i didnt bring enough warm clothes again or because i wasnt able to take my meds on time again or because i freaked out you werent calling when you shouldve -

i want to be there to bandage your wounds. i want you bandaging my wounds

you are the most selfless, kindhearted, driven, and dedicated person i know. your bravery is second to none - most infuriatingly so whenever you think you can save even just one soul but please!! dont ever fucking think you have to carry that burden alone.

remember that time you managed to parry that Wanderer attack and reminded me consistently of it for three days? do you remember? because i do! every day. every goddamn day i go out to do my work and you do yours, it all rattles in my head. you told me that i could rest easy because you have my back. that whatever happens, safety is a priority.

you told me that im not fighting alone anymore. i cried at that, remember? and you did too, you sentimental shmuck

so why the hell do you think you have to do it all alone? what kind of mental gymnastics did your brilliant brain do for you to reach the conclusion that its okay to leave me behind when youre out there fighting for the world, for Linkon, for us

for me?

i want you fighting with me, please

please

pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease

dont do it. dont go -

let me fight with you too

[rimalupin]

Got tagged to categorize some of my preferences for fanfic genres, hehe. Ty for the tag @ythmir-writes! 😊

The last 3 on "LOVE IT!!!" got cut off, but they are "Enemies to Lovers," "Humor," and Silly fics.

Tagging @rizosrojizos @nyktoon-in-otomeland @widzziciclesatmidnight @acrispyapple and anyone else who wants to join in! The link to the site is here~. 😊

[theempresskaizer]

Tagged!! 30 Questions

tagged by two lovelies @kakihoden, and @arimii​ (smooches you both, may strength fill your bones and happiness take root and grow from your hearts)

Nickname(s):  Ythmir, myusername works fine too

Gender: Female

Sign: Scorpio

Height: hmmm im not sure, 167cm?? 165??

Time: 11:50pm, otherwise known as that time i somehow regret drinking that espresso but also am vibrating with energy so yeahhhhhh

Fav band(s): too many to even remember properly anymore tbh and on the top of my head, Panic@theDisco, FOB, Maroon5, Kamisama I Have Noticed, Florence and the Machine, Dimitri Vegas & Like Mike (lmao i consider them a band in the loosest sense of the word ig uess), Kaleo, The Rigs, Amazarashi

Fav solo artist(s): mafumafu, S!N, SymaG, Deadmau5, Karmina, un:c, araki,  Megaterazero, and so much more i cant even list them all but im currently just browsing youtube for utaites so if you know a random singer with lots of personality to their voice hmu

Song stuck in my head: cover version of Roki by amatsuki feat melost, and Inochi ni Kirawareteiru cover by mafumafu, boi i got the feels

Last movie I saw: i.... i have not seen a movie since last year... ;A;

Last show I watched: i rewatched the ikemen sengoku anime haha

When did I create my blog: April 2011 (s w e a t s) and my sideblog around April 2016 

What do I post: reblogs mostly on my main, and writings on my sideblog!

Last thing I Googled: complete list of utapri cards released for the mobile eng version because i am a nerd and i need a database to look at

Do I have any other blogs: yeah my sideblog! check it out for fanfics and original writing if youre bored, maybe?

Do I get asks: H A R D L Y D: prompt me people!! on my sideblog! do itttttt

Why did I chose my URL: it’s my oldest OCs name and my title haha, i chose it because im bad at choosing names and think im a clever lil shit

Following: 874 (a mess, i know) (i cut it down to 700 but end up following a bunch again and at this point i might prune it again)

Followed by: i havent even reached 500 beh haha

Average hours of Sleep: 6-8, any less and im bound to be malfunctioning

Lucky number: i have just the worst luck im just i dont know :/ fortune does not smile upon those who are grit their teeth and dig their heels and scowl because they cant win at rockpaperscissors

Instruments: once upon a time i tried learning the guitar. now i just do rhythm games. do they count?

What I am wearing: pajamas and my sins

Dream job: writingwritingwritingwritingwriting, basically telling stories and using words to convince people that hey look up and see the magic around you, you know

Dream trip: anywhere with history which is basically every nook and cranny of the planet but in particular i want to go to places where people move and live and breathe and learn about them. there’s so much to learn and so little t i m e ! ! you stand there and you look at them and you realize that so many of them have layers and layers of history and you just want to know who they are and what they do and sometimes you press your ear to the walls and they whisper back.

Fav food: anything that does not have mayonnaise (DISGUSTING)

Nationality: w h o knows?? 

Fav song: atm i am listening on loop to: Nonsense Literature as sung by Mafumafu or un:c; Dramaturgy as sung by Rib, I thought I was an angel as sung by S!N, and Roki as sung by amatsuki, someonen gimme new music

Last book I read: currently trying to finish And I Darken by Kiersten White, i find it compelling bu t where do i buy the time to finish???

Top 3 fictional universes I wanna join: let me into anything that has urban fantasy or with dragons, or better yet BOTH, let me have my lovelies

Blogs I would like to get to know better: despite the unfortunate fact that i am not the most consistent presence on here and i am a really awkward entity i have been looking at a few new blogs so if you dont mind me barging in unceremoniously into your internet lives, lemme have it:

@shadowfairyy , @countdowntocake ​, @shadycupcakestrawberry ​, @acrispyapple ​, @rizosrojizos ​, @oh-my-otome ​, @pseudofaux , @nobume-dateand @dreamscapesin1582, and at all the people im struggling and too shy to tag because i admire you all

[oh-my-otome]

hey uhhh can you help a girl out and point her in the direction of some good DtL and MidCin fanfiction??? I literally have no idea where to go and my soul NEEDS it 😍👌

Hello, Precious! I sure can!

First, take both hands and place them right on your keyboard. There you are, fanfic in the making!

After you’re done mashing your keyboard– or typing like a regular person –your choice, why not try the #midnightvalentine and #midnightvalentine2k17 tags to check out a cool MidCin project from earlier this year?

Haven’t turned into a puddle of goo from all of the sweetness, yet?

Have no fear! The following corner-buddies are just a sampling of the awesome fics that you can read: 

@astridapples @deathbymidnightcinderella @ythmir-writes @midnightcindy @spyroeden @riayamazaki (DtL) @rizosrojizos (MidCin & DtL) @aina-chama (DtL) @incorrectmidc @nijigendiaries @cinning-at-midnight @acrispyapple @cinderella-cass @infinitycrayons @rimalupin @rosyangel95 @destinedatmidnight and, continuing Tumblr’s tradition of never letting me tag certain people for no real reason, starlitsummermoon.

Don’t forget to use Tumblr’s search button to find even more! 

Happy reading!

[incorrectmidc]

Tagged by @ythmir-writes & @spyroeden \(^^)/

Rules: post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic/original/anything!) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence.

“Fear cuts deeper than swords.”

//i can only tag... 5 soooo here we go: @dhades-diaferia @oh-my-otome @astridapples @rimalupin @princessdiarymdc

[ythmir-writes]

a moment for prince keith in silvio's route -

Or what if you were the palace guard assigned to prince keith and belle at That Moment

he just really went up and grabbed MC by the scruff of their neck and squeezed huh. not even kidding in the slightest. no simple i have my hand around your neck in a friendly (only slightly suspicious) manner because this isnt really a threat more of a warning type and i do not want to alert you. Nope. He just got up there and placed a forefinger and thumb where it wouldn't leave a mark, no one would be the wiser, but it will hurt. If he squeezed, it will be very painful.

Keith. Soft-spoken, well-mannered, seemingly unsure and recluse Jadean First Prince, went up to MC, grabbed their neck and said with the seriousness of His Title, the crown soon to be on his head, the weight of the entire Jade kingdom, the wrath of a man who does not like being manipulated, and asked MC if they were an Obsidian spy

can you just imagine being one of the guards during this scene? you've probably had some experience with nobles and their little jokes-gone-horribly-wrong. you're handpicked by no less than the devil minister, so you're trusted to be able to handle, to a degree, situations that can quickly escalate and leave one body unconscious. Or several.

So you're thinking as you receive your orders, your luck is turning up. Escort undercover Belle and the Prince around town? This is practically a day off. You've had guarding duties before and despite what most people think, it's a chore. Absolutely (sometimes literally) back-breaking if you're paired with a noble that can't sit still for five minutes. But this is Belle, you think, and Prince Keith. You've seen him around, especially with Prince Yves and Prince Licht. Aside from his imposing height, there was nothing to be afraid of. Not really. Not in any way that you think would put Belle under mortal danger.

So when Prince Keith moved closer towards Belle, you did what any good, obedient, discrete Rhodolitian palace guard would do and shifted your eyes away to give them some semblance of privacy.

Except.

There was no warning of any sort. No obvious shift in the mood that would have indicated Prince Keith as displeased enough to wrap a hand around Belle's neck. You moved too, body reacting reflexively on its own at the sign of danger to your charge, hand on the hilt of your sword, asking the Prince to let go and step away.

"It's a game." Prince Keith says. "We're just playing."

Everything in you tells you it isn't. "Prince Keith -"

"Don't." Gone is the reclusive demeanor, the gentle cloud you've seen on him. He looks at you and it is a physical force that stops you and the rest of the guards in their tracks. Your throat goes dry as you see the sheen of sweat on Belle's face, at the slight tension on their neck and the way Keith's hand was poised so accurately it was practically textbook. You look at the other guards, equally uncertain as to where they should stand. Duty tells them to obey a Prince. Duty tells them to avoid anything that would cause diplomatic issues. But doesn't duty also tell them to save one of their own?

You call out to Belle, ask them if they need assistance. All you needed was one word, even just a whimper asking for help. No matter Prince Keith's rank, Minister Sariel's orders were absolute.

"It's fine." They say, hand wrapped around Keith's wrist. "I'm fine." Their eyes were trained on Keith despite everything else of them seemingly trying to strain away. You want to ignore their reassurance because you know when someone is seized by terror

and Belle was petrified.

[ythmir-writes]

fandom: Ikemen Prince character(s): Chevalier Michel and Vera (OC) warnings: none

prompt #1027 (from creativepromptsforwriting) “I could make you beg for it.” “I would love to see you try.”

a lil warm-up! maybe part of Vera's "official story" maybe not but just something something you gotta warm up the engine and somethng something The only tolerable state is having just written.' and my dudes do we fking try (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

The sun continued its slow descent, setting the ballroom in a blaze of red. The glass panels drowned the entire room in Vera’s colors and Chevalier found himself wishing it would not mirror so much the color of blood. Then again, that would be useless thinking. Knowing the identity now of Vera’s god, it was apt. 

And it would explain a great deal of the why.

Chevalier had never relied on luck in his life but in this instance, he knew it was simply that. It was luck that landed him this morsel of information. It was luck that he was able to see beyond what he’d been told. He loathed to admit it even to himself. If he had not been spearheading an alliance beyond Benitoite and Jade, if Obsidian had not been intercepted, if he had not been a voracious reader himself, he would not have the necessary pieces to Vera’s story.

Chevalier found himself piecing together their identity in his head. He did not like the picture he was forming. 

What to do now with this information…

And then Chevalier notices the exact moment Vera understood he knew. 

“Will you tell them?” They ask.

He frowns at Vera, follows the movement of their hand from the window down to their sword. He knows they know he is watching. Vera’s grip is loose but at attention. If they strike, it would leave him with little choice. He did not want it to come to that.

“That would be ill-advised.” Chevalier says. To which action he is referring to, he does not elaborate.

Vera does not move their hand. “I’ve gotten used to the quiet I’ve been having so far. I won’t let anyone take it. Not even you, Prince Chevalier.” 

“Anyone with half a brain could figure it out.”

“Then do not make it any easier for those with a quarter of a brain!” Vera exclaims. “Or a fifth!”

Despite himself, Chevalier chuckled. 

“Don’t.” Vera insists. 

“Do you think you can stop me?”

Both of them know the answer to that question. Vera would try and oh would they kill themselves trying. Chevalier realizes he does not want that either.

In a huff of frustration, Vera tears themselves away from the window, away from him, glaring all the while. They thundered towards the doors, footsteps loud and cranky, but then stopped, and turned back to look at him. “Keep this between us, please.”

A zing of delight. Say it again. But Chevalier stomped the feeling down. “You misjudge my intentions.”

“It is precisely because I can never discern your intentions that I am saying this now.”  

There is one way to convince me.”

“How?” Only Vera can raise their chin in defiance at him like this and live. 

How indeed? Chevalier regards them and discovers another truth for himself: he would loathe to see this vulnerability exposed to anyone else.

So, he starts to slowly close the gap between the two of them again. Vera watches him with that unflinching iron gaze, their eyes not leaving his face. Even as he stands so close, closer than before. So much closer he could almost see himself reflected in their eyes. She stands taut. He knows that look; the look of someone bracing for a battle. 

He wonders if he looks much the same. More than likely. His arms would not be so ready to strike otherwise. 

Chevalier knows he should not push it. There was no need to dig at them deeper. It should be enough for now that he had a key piece to the puzzle. He could unravel the rest later on. But Vera has told him their truth, although unwittingly, and he should respond in kind. 

What good would it do anyone for blades like us to be brittle? He wants to say, but instead what leaves him is: "I could make you beg for it.” 

The change is instantaneous and if there was a lock in Vera’s soul, Chevalier heard it click. Not only was the armor once again in place, it was reinforced with that strength that only they, among everyone he knew, possessed. 

Gold flashed in Vera’s gray eyes. They bared their teeth in challenge. “I would love to see you try.” 

Chevalier smiles, knows it is pleased.

Knows it is hungry.

[ythmir-writes]

been playing around with a few OCs in my head for some time now and it has not been very kind to my brain. ive got names and vibes and they're still mostly blurry like i got the gist i got the most basic of basics, but i love them very much! (and what is love if notshaking them placing them ingutwrenchingsituations with the Princes)

my 4 children under the cut:

Vera the first blade

"retired" paladin hired to do bodyguard work for annoying royalty (including Chevalier)

thorny past is an open secret - bitter and angry and very much still vexed about it to this day

has a complicated relationship with gods and Chosen Oaths, having the Sight has never helped

deathly afraid of large bodies of water; large is very subjective

spawned from thoughts of Belle who can keep up with the princes in fights, except in the process became too fighty and angry and stressed and plagued with existential crisis

Nievv the scorpion

former scribe and messenger to a noble. caught forging signatures then blamed for much worse

slated to hang for treason but by some stroke of peculiar luck (or curse), becomes a poison taster instead at the Rhodolite palace

reluctant apprentice to Clavis

reading glasses are not for show

What if the castle had to deal with Two Clavises ?

Wilhelmina ("Mina") the witness

fourth of eight siblings, (un) fortunately shares the same father and mother with brothers and sisters

a decorated soldier in a family that has everything planned except her being a soldier

uses a very long and very pretty gun

needed a gal to hold a certain Prince upright, then realized theyre both going to topple over if she doesnt

Henri Lambert the tower

a not-so-very-lucky palace guard

can't play cards for shit, can't stop long enough to realize it

Does not want to be in situations, is always found in the middle of situations

A soft gentleman, can be very dramatic, grumbles a "normal" amount

only recently spawned because of that one keith scene

[ythmir-writes]

Be My Valentine Content Creation Challenge 2022 - Day 01

prompt #01: "Of course I figured it out. You were always giving me that love-struck gaze."

fandom: Ikemen Prince feat: Chevalier Michel 6.6k words

tags: swearing, physical injuries, fighting, the fact that this is -not- the valentine themed piece you may have expected but it is not angst, i promise quick summary: Narrator tries very hard to punch Chev, nuff said

“It’s really happening.”

I had only just raised the fork to my mouth when Clavis Lelouch stood to my right, Yves Kloss just behind him, and my first thoughts were that it would definitely be a waste to let the cake hanging in the air like that. So I took the bite and chewed. “I did say after three.”

“This is madness.” Yves said for the umpteenth time, waving a hand at the rack of weapons south of us. “The lot of you are insane.”

I chewed on more cake and Clavis winked at him. “Aren’t we all?”

Yves ignored him. “Do you have your second – wait, no, I shouldn’t have asked.” He was looking behind me. I turned and there was Rio, right on time and making a beeline to where we stood. I could not tell if his smile was genuine. Probably genuinely murderous. He would’ve heard how things ended up like this and he would definitely be giving me an earful for it too.

“Luke’s filled in the other spot.” Clavis informed us, looking at the other end of the training grounds. He waved and Luke waved back.

“Sure you don’t want to be over there and be second?” I asked Clavis.

“Ha!” Clavis’s eyes gleamed with an almost unnatural shine, amusement dripping from him. Soon enough, he’d be bouncing on the balls of his feet. “He didn’t want me.”

Yves huffed. “I thought Sariel would’ve put a stop to it but apparently – and I’m quoting you on this – it’s happening with his blessing.”

“It is.” I answered, truthfully. Because of course none of this could happen without Sariel knowing. I thought back to just how quickly Sariel had known my little stunt and a quiet shiver went down my spine. I would have told him, really. Eventually. With results. But when they said the walls had ears, they probably were thinking of Sariel and his network. Anything that happened inside Rhodolite’s palace, the King’s Regent knew. And it always had something in it for him to boot.

I should know, I was in on one.

“You asked for a duel.” Sariel had said the moment I was in his office. It had not been a question; I knew enough of Sariel’s tones to know that he did not expect to be answered. But I replied anyway.

“I was – am angry.” I had said, which had been untrue at that exact moment, because the burning anger I had felt was then only a smoldering ember.

Sariel steepled his fingers and gave me a long look. He caught the lie and I hung my head in shame. When I could no longer take his silence I had asked, “Do you want me to explain?”

“I think I already understand why things came to be the way they are.” Sariel then laid out my plans and he hit every point with an accuracy that would have sent me reeling if he wasn’t the King Regent.

“Don’t do anything reckless.” Sariel had said when he finished, and I could remember the look on his face that told me no outcome other than the one in his head was acceptable. I had nodded and sworn. And that was that.

“He asked Licht to oversee.” I continued, forking over another mouthful of cake.

“It doesn’t help.” Yves said.

“You couldn’t ask for a better judge.” Clavis countered.

That was true. Licht acting as judge meant two things. First, things would be fair. Too fair even; no one could be more impartial. Second, things were pretty serious since Licht’s entire division could possibly stay to watch.

Already the training yard was filling with soldiers. I could make out the Rhodolitian rose crests, Leon’s with the forward facing lions, and of course Licht’s wolves. I didn’t want the audience but you don’t throw the words challenge and duel against Chevalier Michel and expect the infantry to pretend not to hear.

“You could always just call it off.” Yves was relentless. “Chevalier won’t go easy on you just because you’re you.”

I frowned. “He better not.”

“He’s going to beat you to a pulp!”

“I do promise to look away when Chev cleaves you in half,” chimed Clavis. “Better to make sure my last memory of you is here scarfing down cake before your imminent death.”

I rolled my eyes at Clavis before turning to Yves. “It’s going to be fine.”

Yves still looked ready to implode. “How in the Monarch’s name is all this going to end up fine? You have the entire Rhodolite army as witness! You challenged him! Chevalier isn’t called the Bloody Tiger because he likes to wear red!”

I chewed on more cake, looking at Yves and Clavis. I had half my mind to tell them the reason because it was all going to be in everyone’s face in the next few minutes but Sariel’s warning held me back. Don’t do anything reckless. I wanted to argue – if challenging the second prince to a sword fight wasn’t reckless, then was everything else a free pass?

I frowned again. Was that what Sariel was telling me? No, I shouldn’t try to put words into his mouth again. If Chevalier doesn’t end me, that definitely will.

I caught Clavis smiling at me and I wondered for how long I had been lost in thought. I looked down at my empty plate. Settled for something easier to explain. “Prince Chevalier is royalty and technically since a commoner challenged him, we’re fighting under the Code of Duels. Under the rules, as a royal who’s had the better education, he’s bound to let me choose the weapon and how the match will be scored, among other things. There’s also the rule on leniency. He’s not going to charge in there like he usually does. We’re not battling to the death.”

“I know the damn duelling code. It’s archaic.” Yves glowered. “You’re much too naive if you think the word lenient can’t be so arbitrarily defined.”

“It’s fine.” I shrugged, but that was the wrong move to placate Yves because he looked ready give another earful. But Rio was there, placing a hand on Yves’ shoulder as if to pat the prince into calmness.

“It’s going to be fine.” He echoed.

“And what makes you say that?” Yves challenged him, poking Rio on the chest. “Shouldn’t you be her first line of defense? I expected you to talk some sense into her!”

“Please calm down, Prince Yves.” Rio continued smiling and patted Yves on the head.

As Yves sputtered, shocked and indignant, I watched Rio carefully, ready to intervene if he would over explain anything.

Clavis watched me watching Rio. I glared. Clavis’s replying grin was sly. Why was it so hard to stand before the man and not think I was slowly being trapped?

“You know, Yves,” Clavis spoke slowly, his eyes never leaving me. “For all us being worried, haven’t you wondered if our Belle can fight?”

“But Belle isn’t –! How could –?”

“Whoops, look at the time!” I ducked out of the makeshift tent, walking away from the sound of Clavis’s laughter. Don’t do anything reckless, Sariel said. But couldn’t punching a prince in the gut because he scared you with his intuition be considered as self-defense?

In all honesty, I shared Yves’s apprehension. I knew the Code would be of little help to me – or to any other challenger, for that matter. Prince Chevalier was a force in the battlefield. A storm in and of himself. We’d all heard the stories. Gossip in the Commons about him had always been rampant, but was now resurging exponentially with Obsidian baying at our borders. How he would charge headlong into enemy lines without fear. How he would decimate entire platoons without suffering any injury. How he would bathe in red.

You can outrun the Lion’s roar but you will never see the Tiger until it was too late. We held the Bloody Tiger in awe and in fear and I had always thought the title of Beast befitting him the most out of all his brothers.

And my experience with him did little to change his reputation.

Rio trotted behind me and instantly the smile he had dropped. He gave me a look, that one look reserved for when things were veering completely out of his control; eyes narrowed, lips thin.

“I know.” I rubbed the back of my neck.

“Couldn’t you have tried a game of chess instead?”

“Strategy’s not my forte.”

“Knowing that perhaps you could have come to me first.”

I grimaced, more guilty that Rio was worried than I was at picking a fight I could have avoided. The thought did occur to me – except only after the gauntlet had been figuratively thrown down and I had no more choice but to move forward. Chevalier hadn’t even tried to talk me down or let me take it back. The moment the challenge escaped my lips he’d accepted, catching the glove I’d thrown before it could hit him.

“When?” Chevalier had said.

“Tomorrow, after three. Training grounds.” I’d spat back. “Bring a second.”

“I don’t need one against you.”

Well I was going to prove him wrong. I placed a hand on Rio’s shoulder, felt even guiltier at how tense he felt.

“You’ll really fight, then?” He asked, voice as serious as I’ve ever heard it.

“Yes.” I answered. “Sariel agreed. I got this.”

“I can always take your place.” Rio’s eyes shone with a pleading look. “Please let me take your place.”

“No. This is between him and me.” I said firmly and Rio relented, pouting.

Someone cheered from the crowd. Rio and I turned to see none other than Chevalier Michel, emerging from the northern gate. Despite wearing only a simple shirt as were the duelling standards, his every step drew all eyes towards him. Nokto Klein was just behind him. He smiled as he saw me, and said something to Chevalier.

Chevalier turned his head and even with the distance, he instantly found me, zeroing in where Rio and I stood, and not taking his eyes away. Rio reflexively tried to shield me but I took hold of his arm gently, stopping him. Meeting Chevalier’s piercing stare, I reminded myself to keep breathing. In and out through gritted teeth.

Of all the Princes, Chevalier was the hardest to crack. Though Leon’s ferocity was something we equally feared, his charm and easy-going nature made him approachable and conversations with him felt sincere, genuine. It felt like you were talking to someone who actually cared, someone who would see to it that your concerns as an ordinary citizen were heard and acted upon. You entered his court and felt the warm glow of his presence. He pulled you in to be friends.

Chevalier pulled you in only so his blade could kill you faster. His mercy was unknown to friends and foe alike. I could still remember the time I’d accompanied him at a ball and a young noble lady had been introduced to him, who could play the violin and was up to be a member of the Rhodolitian Royal Orchestra at the tender age of sixteen.

I smelled the hints of favor being curried the moment the girl’s father had spoken and expected the rebuke from Chevalier to come easily. The arts were under Yves, sometimes even Nokto and Clavis. The baron had approached the wrong prince to ask for patronage.

What I hadn’t expected was for Chevalier to cut father and child down with the first sentence that left his mouth, asking them what use was the girl to him and to his court. The girl had frozen up, petrified, and the baron had gaped like a fish out of water.

They had meant well. Whether Chevalier cared they had approached him because they genuinely thought he might be interested in the girl’s talents, I didn’t know and couldn’t tell. He was already dismissing them from his presence before they could even squeeze a word in.

I hadn’t been able to help myself even then. I scooped up the fragments of conversation, turned it into something that allowed for Chevalier to address them again and put a balm on the sting of his words. If he wanted.

He’d glared at me but had at least made vague promises to attend the next concert or other if his schedule allowed. The father and daughter had looked relieved and had thanked us both profusely. Before I could personally thank Chevalier for letting me do what I had done – because of course even I knew the dangers of overstepping – he had turned away and left, declaring he was wasting his time and was no longer interested in mingling.

That was not the last time I had seen the legendary cruelty of the second prince. He refused to parley with criminals. He stamped out opposition at the slightest hint. He hunted down traitors and made sure to bleed whoever sponsored them dry. I would not put it past him to do it literally, even. And it was no secret that his goal was to ultimately take the war Obsidian so obviously wanted to it first. Bring the fight to them when they least expected it, crush them, force Obsidian into a state of impotency as a military force – and only then will Rhodolite be at peace.

It was insane, a sure-fire way to bury Rhodolite in ruins, and Leon had declared as much. But that was Chevalier’s trademark. External Affairs looked out towards the world and protected its citizens from dangers without. To do this, it had to make sure it kept a wary eye on anything and everything that might be a danger, especially from shared borders. Once a threat was identified, it was but the duty of those in power to make cuts as precisely or as deeply as possible, to make sure the body as a whole did not suffer. Chevalier would never hesitate to brandish his blade at anyone – anyone at all – who so much as thinks they could harm the kingdom.

Two months in as Belle and I was ashamed to admit I only had a rudimentary understanding of Chevalier or his politics. Sure, I’ve read the books but if I wanted to do my duty, it was not enough to only learn it academically. I needed to know more, to understand more why Chevalier was doing the things he did.

But the goddamn prince was so hard to pin down and even my position as Belle could only do so much. Most attempts I had to speak with him would often lead to me having to wrestle with Clavis and Nokto, and the few times I’d been able to corner Chevalier, he’d be out and about because of problems at the borders with Obsidian, if not Jade. It was more than obvious the prince was avoiding me. He never did believe in the Belle system so why give me even the time of the day?

I tried to decipher the man through the books he read, pulling out the titles I’ve seen on his desk and trying to puzzle out what was going through his head. However, Chevalier was a voracious reader and it was hard to keep with his pace. A few times, I’d tried to sneak books of my own choosing into the piles he read, inserting novels I liked here and there. Every time, I’d find the book almost immediately back in my chambers, too fast for anyone to have properly read them. The only proof I had that Chevalier even bothered to open them were the bookmarks he’d left behind with notes at how atrocious the protagonist was, or how the plot moved at a snail’s pace, or some other comment he had. I’d expected this to bridge whatever gap remained between us but Chevalier remained elusive and before long, I’d given up. I wasn’t going to let him continue to needle on my books. Thrice, I’d accidentally chanced upon him at the library, sat on his favorite armchair. But those were the only times Chevalier looked human and I could not find it in myself to steal what little reprieve he had for himself.

At the last round table meeting, the issue of the Anti-War Faction had come up once again. The Klein twins had sniffed out that the rumors of a group of nobles rallying against Chevalier were true and were too good at slipping through their traps. That told us that though the group was tight-lipped, it was thankfully, small. However, Nokto suspected it would only be a matter of time before the group’s ideals got traction and if it did, it could possibly undermine Chevalier’s efforts to keep Obsidian at bay.

The tension that day had been palpable. Chevalier had been glaring at Leon as if the anti-war sentiments were from Internal Affairs. Leon had been pointedly not looking at his brother and was saying it was only but obvious that people did not want to subject themselves to war.

“We all still remember the Bloody Rose.” Leon had said. “It was not so long ago that Rhodolite has had a taste of a fraction of the damage war could bring.”

“Bloody Rose will only be but the beginning if we don’t move to root out this dissent before it goes out of hand.”

“The welfare of the people, I think, should be considered the most important. What good is a kingdom without its people?”

I had gritted my teeth, squeezed into the conversation. “I agree with Prince Leon. The Commons know what it’s like to be at war. If they are the ones being influenced by whatever philosophy this group has, they’ll easily agree.”

“Sheep swayed by a single piper are hardly worth considering.” Clavis interjected.

“Who do you think suffered the most after the Bloody Rose? Countless knights lost their lives yes but the citizens suffered too! Do you remember the pillaging? The mercenaries? Or were your walls to high you didn’t even hear them crying out?”

“Inevitable but temporary state of things in war.” Chevalier had answered. “We all must sacrifice something for the kingdom."

“Life and limb, yeah? Tell that to the family who’s lost a father, a mother, a child! Who lost entire families and homes they’ve had for generations! We all know in this room, you princes carry the burden of your decisions. Noblesse oblige is the duty you all carry out to try to tip the scales. But there is no need for war now – why are you insisting it’s the only course of action?”

“The people don’t know how to think for themselves.”

Wow. “We can think for ourselves, thank you very much.”

“If you are any example, I’d really beg to differ.” Chevalier levelled me a look. “But I don’t beg.”

And that had been it. Before I understood what I was doing, I had moved, I had grabbed my glove and thrown it at Chevalier with all the frustration I had for him and his infuriating evasiveness and his belittling, and his refusal to meet me whichever way.

I glared as Chevalier reached us. He looked impassive, as if I was a scheduled appointment he’d rather do without and that just angered me all over again. I was trying to understand him! Monarch’s light, was that so bad?

Rio squeezed my arm. “Be careful.”

I nodded at him and saw Chevalier’s eyes slide towards Rio, at his hand on my arm, before dismissing him too.

Licht appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. At least he had the right to look bored. He glanced at me and I nodded to him in silent thanks. . He was the only one from Internal Affairs who had supported me to go for a duel that day. Or at least, he didn’t try to stop me.

Licht recited the relevant rules of the Code of Duels to us, even adding in the formal oaths and prayers, and when he finished, he angled his head and let us to it.

“Terms?” Chevalier asked me.

Even at our almost similar heights, I felt like he was looking down on me. I wanted to say full contact, yield. But I was not insane. This much, the Code could protect me. “First blood. Best of three.”

“First blood. Best of three.” Chevalier repeated in agreement without reaction. “Weapon?”

I waved to the display. “Free choice.” And I turned and did not wait for him. Free Choice meant Chevalier and I could use any weapon we wanted from what’s available. And there were plenty. The training grounds boasted six racks of different weapons from all over the world. I recognized blades from Obsidian, Jade and Benitoite. Great swords, rapiers, a halberd as tall as me, and even some curved blades from the kingdoms in the South East. Axes. Spears. Sabers. Falchions – a broad sword that looked like only Luke could swing it with one hand. It was almost dizzying to be in front of so many weapons but it struck me that they were too beautiful, too well-made.

“Your personal collection?”

“It seemed like a special occasion.” Chevalier answered from where he was surveying the racks.

Great. So the rumors were true that the second prince knew to handle any piece of weaponry. I turned back to the weapons, considering my options. I had not touched live steel since being Belle. I would have loved to test a schiavona but I could not risk the fancy hand guard getting in the way. Chevalier was built like a warrior, only just slightly leaner. I still remember seeing Licht helping him dress a wound he could not quite reach on his back. I glanced over at him. He had power, speed, and strength on his side. But I had speed too and I needed something to match him.

I stopped in front of the same rack as Chevalier. Twin swords lay before us and as I watched him watch me, it seemed we had the same pick. The swords were unadorned, probably thirty-two inches long, classic cross-guard. The hilt was around four inches, wrapped in simple leather and ending with an equally plain pommel. The sword screamed simplicity and efficiency and out of all Chevalier’s weapons, their lacklustre appearance made them stand out.

I grabbed one. Chevalier took the other. If I squinted, I could tell you Chevalier’s smile was approving and warm.

We walked away from each other to give us space. I tested the sword in both hands. It was a good sword and most importantly it felt good. Lighter than I thought but balanced. Rio nodded at me. I pretended not to hear Yves’ gasp or the approval from Leon. The Fourth Prince grinned as my eyes singled him out and returned to having some sort of hushed conversation with Clavis and Jin.

Chevalier looked unsurprised. I wondered how much of this he was able to anticipate. I did not take him to be so blind to me as he let on, but I could not deny the empty feeling in me to not at least get some reaction from him.

Yes, Princes. Your Belle is a fighter so why doesn’t Chevalier even look a little bit surprised?

“You look disappointed.” Chevalier said.

What was it with the princes and reading moods? “Thought you’d be fighting me with a fancy rapier, is all.”

“And miss the opportunity to teach you a lesson?” He carried the sword as if it was the most natural thing in the world, an extension of him. “You will lose.”

“I won’t.”

Chevalier moved, a swing across the chest. I saw through the test and felt almost offended. I parried, the flat of my blade deflecting his and pushing back. He whirled, too much exaggeration in movement, and I took half a step back, blocking and countering.

I could play along. I mimicked his last move but at the last minute shot out like a coiled spring. Chevalier narrowed his eyes as he blocked with his sword. Any slower and he would have lost an ear. I sliced again, right to left, left to right, right to left. Chevalier dodged, parried – he was planning to trap me with his left arm.

I closed my fist and swung. It grazed more than hurt Chevalier but if he was thinking I was planning to fight with him like a good knight, he was going to be in for a hell of a surprise.

Someone whooped – I bet an arm it was Clavis – and cheering rumbled through our audience.

I smirked at him. “What does the winner get?”

“A bad idea!” Yves called out with worry.

“You won’t win.” Chevalier said.

“Afraid?” I goaded him. “If I win, you get to answer any questions I have from here on out.”

Chevalier took a moment to consider. “And if I win?”

“You won’t.”

“You’ll agree to join me in a full excursion to Obsidian borders.”

I frowned. That was unexpected. But also unsurprising. Did Chevalier want me to see the ‘horrors’ of war first hand? Is this an effort to make me balk and surrender meekly to him? He’d be disappointed. I was no stranger to death. “Deal.”

Chevalier considered me. “So that’s how it is.”

That I could not guess what he was getting at worried me. Slightly. “Finally figured me out, huh.”

“Of course, I figured it out.” he said, beginning to move.

“Oh?” I matched him and we slowly circled one another.

“You were always looking at me with a love-struck gaze.”

“You were!” Clavis shouted and I scowled – because how in the Monarch’s name could he have possibly heard that? Was the wind carrying over everything we were saying?

“Murderous, you mean?” I growled.

“In your book, isn’t that the same thing?” Chevalier huffed – in amusement? scorn? – I didn’t want to think too much into it because such a soft sound as Chevalier chuckling should not be preceding his opening attack.

And yet here he were.

He struck first again, faster, closing the distance without hesitation. Pure reflex from years of experience was the only thing that saved me. I managed to block the strike, raising my sword with both hands to stop Chevalier’s cut. The force of the blow jarred me, the sound like claws unsheathing. Prove the point already that you were really playing with me just now!My arms tingled with the fierceness of his strike but Chevalier did not relent. A growl came from him and in that moment, I felt a stab of mind-numbing fear. He took the opportunity and attacked again and again. I dodged, parried. I sprang back, narrowly escaping as Chevalier pressed the advantage, looking as if he intended to cleave through me just like Clavis had warned. Stinging pain on my left arm told me I took a misstep, not completely blocking Chevalier’s strike.

“Point!”

“Had enough already?” Chevalier frowned at me from where he stood. Rules forced challengers to step back after contact. But when had he gotten there? “Wasting my time even with this?”

When was the last time I took a cut like that? None since being Belle. Only occasionally since starting the bookshop. I’d forgotten how much I loathed the pain and how intolerant I was of the inconvenience of even a minor cut. I made a poor enough mercenary, shuddering at the thought of going back to the hard life. And I was no knight meant to carry on with a hundred wounds in the battlefield either.

I grimaced in pain and stopped just shy of touching my wound. I didn’t need the disadvantage of a slippery hilt.

“Didn’t you want answers?”

I did. And I had a point to make. So, I took hold of my anger and used it to push through the pain, push through the fear.

This time, I was prepared to receive him. Chevalier’s blows were quick, quicker than anything I’ve ever encountered but I refused to acknowledge the creeping insecurity – was I fast enough, was I trained enough – and cast aside the ifs or what coulds, focusing solely on the man in front of me looking to tear me apart. I reminded myself of why I was here and matched him in that desire; I was going to tear him open a new one if it meant he would finally take me seriously. I met Chevalier head-on, parrying when I could, pressing into his left where he was at a very slight disadvantage, and entering his striking distance to catch him off guard. It was a risk – the arc where a sword swung was always lethal – but it paid off. Chevalier only barely expected me to lunge and it let me cut him on the shoulder.

“Point.”

Leave it to Licht to see even from this distance. I stepped back, grinning, swinging my sword in a lazy arc.

A minute and a half in – a lifetime in a fight – and Chevalier and I had a point each. And oh he was going to really bleed with that one.

“Even.” Licht’s voice seemed to be the only sound. “First one to land the next –”

We didn’t let Licht finish. I went in, moving as fast as I could the moment I saw Chevalier take a step. I swiped once, twice, forcing Chevalier to react to me. There were only so many ways to make sure your opponent stayed on the defensive. Strike as fast as you could, aim for even the slightest openings, and never ever relent. Don’t let the aches and pains stop your movements, push through it and focus only on your opponent. I was not interested in Chevalier leading the dance a second time. Strike. Strike. Strike. Quick and fluid; the sword is in my hand, is my arm and moving it was like breathing.

Don’t do anything reckless – I realize now it was meant not just to warn me but to caution me. Don’t put yourself at risk, Sariel had wanted to say. Don’t fight like the way you’ve fought before.

But what kind of life would we all have, if a little risk wasn’t part of the equation?

I was the Belle with a sword, making sure the Tiger saw.

Because how could I expect Chevalier to open up to me if I was not willing to risk being seen first? Really fully seen? If he would not listen when it came to his policies, then maybe maybewe had something else in which we could converse. Weeks of trying and agonizing and being frustrated – and all it took was a well-timed remark, a glove, and a challenge declared.

Look at me Bloody Tiger! I am here and we are fighting – No. No, we weren’t fighting. Semantics be damned – we were having a conversation.

I knew Chevalier also saw nothing else, no one else. As we traded blows, as steel rang through the training yard, the ice in Chevalier’s eyes was replaced with a fire that I would have turned away from if I was not so sure doing so would cost me my head. He was answering me blow for goddamn blow. And my heart soared at the thought. Even as a particularly forceful cut jarred me again, even as I grunted in frustration for my arms practically shaking in my attempt to block him, I could not help but feel elated. In this, we were almost equals.

Almost.

Chevalier parried, then his sword came over his head, slicing down. I dodged and too late realized he had expected me to, because as I moved his sword continued on to follow me. Time slowed, my movements felt like I was underwater. Chevalier put all of his momentum into the swing and I barely had time to thrust my blade in the way. The blow knocked me back and I felt like I flew a hundred feet. Chevalier kept coming at me with methodical strikes. It was all I could do to keep up my blocks and finally was half a moment too slow. Pain lashed through me and I shouted as I grabbed Chevalier by the arm and aimed to strike at his nose. I missed by a hair and I jumped back, touching my stomach.

No blood.

Not a point!

Chevalier let out a laugh. It was short. A burst, nothing more. I would have wanted to hear it again but Chevalier twisted into a Jadean manuever and I dodged while guarding my legs. I kicked out, an effort to force him back, and he stepped away, chest heaving.

But it was so painfully obvious that Chevalier was at ease.

“You’re laughing!” I said, unable to stop the bubble of laughter coming from me either. “We’re here to settle a score and you’re laughing?” I couldn’t think; the sight of him looking so pleased was bringing a strange feeling in my chest. It was not fair the way Chevalier could immobilize me like that, struck dumb at the sight of him sweaty and laughing, a bleeding shoulder besides.

“Don’t get distracted.”

Sure, but maybe he should know it was not fair how he could be so unhesitant in taking advantage of that single instance of vulnerability and turn it into a win for himself.

I swore as I parried. Swore again as our blades met. It was as if something flipped and Chevalier’s movements were more fluid, more precise, and yet seemingly all the more relaxed. The Second Prince was having fun and not even getting sloppy for it. He was precise but by the Monarchs the strength of his blows felt like I was being hit by a heavy axe.

Whatever it was that switched the mood, I was at a loss to stop it. We clashed and danced across the clearing, a flurry of strikes exchanged. If Chevalier had been pure strength, now he had lightning and thunder to him I could only dream to match. He slashed diagonally, left to right then down and I could only barely move and parry. His next swing caught me, forcing me back and back and back. Despite best efforts, I felt myself melt into his rhythm. I was fast. But I had to accept that Chevalier was faster.

I swung from top downwards and to the right and my sword screeched against Chevalier’s. He parried, using my momentum to pull away my sword. Reacting quickly, I dug my heel and elbowed him on the stomach. He gave out a satisfactory oof. I grabbed his arm and tried to shock his wrist into letting go with my palm. Before it could connect, Chevalier had looped his arm around mine, and whatever force I had in my swing was not enough to make him drop his sword. I tried to kick him, tried to force him back with –

All of a sudden, the sky met the ground and my legs were in the air and I was placed unceremoniously flat on my back. Chevalier had me pinned down, hand on my chest, the blade just barely nicking my neck.

“Point.”

“Fuck.”

“How eloquent.” Chevalier muttered.

“That’s me.” I pushed hair out of my face.

“For Chevalier.” I heard Licht say.

Cheers from the knights erupted and it sounded much like the roaring of tigers. I hid my face behind my hands and hoped no one placed a bet on me and lost. They shouldn’t have and – no, who would have, really? I was just another Belle barely moments ago. And now? Well. We’ll all hear the rumors tomorrow.

My ass on the ground regardless, things had gone well. “Still my win.”

“Explain.”

I froze. I had not intended to say that out loud. I peeked at Chevalier through my fingers. It was hard to refuse with him pinning me down and his sword practically kissing my neck. If he moved even a little, he could choke me or let me bleed. “I made you take me seriously, King Highness.”

Chevalier levelled me with a look. I could only guess at what could possibly be going on in his head at the moment. His eyes were menacing still, the fight in him not having bled out yet and that piercing stare pinned me down more than his blade. I thought he would scoff. His mouth had moved, an upturn to his lips that I anticipated would end in smirk.

“Or maybe, I made you take me seriously, idiot.” His face mellowed into a smile I was too shocked at seeing it to completely comprehend what was happening. And then he moved and the moment was gone and he was standing and putting away his sword.

Don’t do anything reckless. Don’t do anything reckless. Would asking him to smile again be considered reckless? Would catching him with a surprise punch to his gut for confusing me land me in prison?

I opted for the saner option and let Chevalier help me up.

He pulled me close. “If your intention has always been just for us to talk, all you had to do was to approach me and stand your ground the way you did.” Chevalier was not finished admonishing me though. “I’ve always seen you, you idiot.” He leaned in closer. “So, don’t emulate Clavis or the clown.”

All warm thoughts shattered and I scowled. “That is the worst thing you could say to me.”

“I’m sure I could think of a few more.”

“I’m sure you could. Remind me again when it was best to approach you in all those times you weren’t at the castle and were busy snubbing me and making sure our paths never crossed. Busy with this. Busy with that. Oh no, Belle, Obsidian’s coming and I absolutely cannot make time. Absolutely available.”

I had not intended the bitter rebuke to meet its mark but Chevalier’s hesitating to reply told me it did. I was about to take some of it back but then he said, “Your tenacity unnerves me.”

“What?” I wasn’t quite sure I heard right.

Chevalier was suddenly very interested on the gash he left on my neck. “Give me some credit. Not my fault you never took the opportunities when I’m alone at the library.”

I pressed my lips together, unsure how to untangle the various emotions his touch or his little revelation was making me feel. “I will take all that as the compliment it was never intended to be.”

“Bring me better novels next time.”

“Hey!” I would have taken real offense if I hadn’t purposely chosen the sappiest ones for him to read. “They sell well for a reason. Your lack of taste is to blame.”

Chevalier sigh was almost resigned, almost tender. “If I read more of those flops I will be physically incapacitated.”

I made mental list of even worse ones to give him. “I’ll try.”

“Do better than try.” Chevalier’s gaze slipped past me and I saw the moment his gaze hardened and he was just the Second Prince again. I turned to look and saw Rio and the rest moving to meet us. “We depart for Obsidian three days from now. Make sure you’re ready.”

I’d forgotten about that; I juggled obligations in my head. “Hang on – that’s on the Feast of Valentines.”

“Your point?”

Nothing more romantic than scouting borders for acts of Obsidian aggression. “Are we going to finally be talking or are we just going to have another tête-à-tête with swords?”

“I can’t see why we cannot do both.” Then Chevalier left with a look that made me reconsider who exactly challenged whom in this fight.

[ythmir-writes]

Be My Valentine Content Creation Challenge 2022 - Day 04

prompt #04: Surprising them with more roses than expected.

fandom: Ikemen Prince feat: Leon, Yves, Chevalier, Rio, Clavis 1.5k words

tags: second-person POV, purely romantic summary: how the princes gives you roses on Valentine's

Leon Dompteur – when he’d told you he was going to give you something for Valentine's, you tried to imagine what the fourth prince would give you and your mind raced at possibilities. It wasn’t too farfetched to think he’d give you something grand. If he thought it, Leon would probably do it – and he’d try his damnedest too. Except, you hadn’t expected him to grab you and ask you to sneak out the palace, hadn’t expected him to have two horses waiting for you at the stables, hadn’t expected to burst through the palace gates promising the worried guards you would be back tonight. For real, this time.

When Leon shouted a race, you didn’t even think twice and set your horse at a gallop. The two of you under a warm sun and a clear blue sky, racing and laughing, letting the wind whip at you, at your cheeks, at your hair – it was exhilarating, to say the least. How long had it been since it was just the two of you? How long had it been to simply be?

You spotted the cabin Leon was heading for just as it entered your line of sight, but it wasn’t just the obviousness he’d been planning this for days which made you stop. It was the entire ensemble. The windows were decorated with paper streamers in your favorite colors, rose petals scattered across the small cozy space, a vase filled with your favorite flowers sat on the bedside table, and Leon unpacking your favorite meal on the table for two. Before you could even say anything, Leon has you in his arms, swaying you to his humming, and your laughter, and then very eagerly insisting for dinner it was but tradition that he feed you by hand. And as you share sweets watching the sunset, you fall just a little bit more in love. Because Leon was the warmth of a welcoming embrace, the headiness of surprises. Your burst of shining light.

Yves Kloss – trust in him to lavishly pamper you because there is nothing this prince could not elevate in style. He’s cleared the entire day for you even, insisting that Valentine's can only ever be held on a day off, your day off to be precise. No, you don’t even have to worry about Sariel, it’s been taken care of. No, you don’t have to worry about what to wear for the day out because Yves has planned that too. And no, you most definitely do not have a say about anything else either. So you spend the day in a whirlwind of pleasant surprises and doses of luxury only Yves can provide: a newly tailored outfit in your favorite color, with shoes and accessories to match; your favorite meals served for you for the day; the afternoon spent at a cozy little teashop serving only the most exquisite blends.

But what really surprises you is Yves declaring he hadn’t yet given you a proper gift yet (as if everything else before wasn’t already). Yves leads you to the kitchens and there unwraps what he calls his magnum opus. A small cake flourished with the most intricately shaped roses ever to be made into delectable sweets. It’s hard to eat them, beautiful as they are, but Yves insists. Let me do this for you, his actions say. You had never expected him to dote on you like this on such a simply holiday. And as you watch Yves divide the cake between the two of you, as he blushes when you insist on feeding him the cake yourself, you feel soft. Here is a man with so much beauty, so much empathy, so much more than just the perfect princely façade. And you vow to yourself to take care of him just as much as he likes taking care of you.

Chevalier Michel – his telling you that he didn’t celebrate Valentine's is to be expected and in all honesty, you hadn’t even thought of it as something he’d make an exception for. Besides, there was already an evening ball planned for tonight, your third royal ball to be precise, and you still had things to prepare for so your day had been full of exactly that. You were still not used to navigating the tenuous political landscape of a royal ball. And with Chevalier officially your partner, the task seemed all the more arduous. But he was the comfort found in icy stillness; the steadying anchor in the tumultuous sea of court life, even if that meant everyone cowered in front of him.

To make up for it, you planned to at least make the event a little bit more bearable for him, chatting with him idly and making sure he sampled the sweets offered, as was the theme of the night. That Chevalier did not resort to violence that evening was already a success, but it was how he never turned down anything you offered him that night which made you really happy. You mentioned as much to him as he walked you to your rooms, and he tells you that since he’s been so tolerant, he’ll be asking a favor in return. Typical. When you ask what he wanted, he does the unexpected. He pulls out a book and tells you that since what he’s done for tonight has made you happy, then translating this for him would entertain him. You wanted to roll your eyes because Chevalier could understand the language just as well as you did – and for how long did he have that on his person? But he insists.

When you open the book the next day to start translating, you find a pressed flower and a small note inside, telling you that you were doing well enough for someone of your history, he fears that maybe your foreign language skills needed a little work. So you do. And as you translate the words of the book you realize it was a poetry book and Chevalier had been writing it for you.

Rio Ortiz – gives you roses first thing in the morning, holding the largest bouquet of roses you’ve ever laid your eyes and living in Rhodolite, you’ve seen plenty. How he could have gotten anything at all is a mystery. You know he’s been attached to your hip yesterday, you know he’s never been to town recently, and you know he’s never without any duties between being your attendant and working for Sariel.

As he enters your room, you notice it wasn’t just roses – other flowers were scattered there too. And on closer inspection it looks as if, Rio had gathered a whole range of flowers. When you ask him, his answer is a matter-of-fact: these are all the flowers he’s ever given you since you met, these are all the flowers that reminded him of you, and the flowers with special meanings he’s always wanted to say. And was that a pair of your favorite ones in the middle? Your heart squeezes, just a little, because of course Rio will always have time for you and of course he’s that type to always think of you first. You try to take the bouquet from him – not an easy feat because the thing is massive – and as the two of you laugh over your failed attempts to carry his gift, as he places the bouquet on your bed, as you lean in to his greeting you Happy Valentine's to start your day, your heart feels full. Because Rio has always been there and always will be. Steadfast and constant. Your second beating heart.

Clavis Lelouch – you know Clavis enough to confidently predict he would always be up to something. He was ingenuity personified. Your own very unstoppable mischievous force. But as Valentine's day went by, there was no peep from him and you begin to suspect that maybe this uneventfulnesswas his plan along; you’ve spent the day wary for nothing. He’d get a laugh out of that, for sure. It is obvious you’ve yet to truly understand – letting your guard down around Clavis is a mistake.

You open the door to your room and you’re greeted with a towering display of roses. From floor to ceiling, there were only roses: red, white, orange, yellow, blue?­ It was dizzying display and then you realize there’s almost nothing left for you to walk on except a clear narrow path with Clavis (of course) standing in the middle, looking absolutely proud of himself. It’s clear he has surprised you and he’s savoring your reaction. You want to ask where your stuff was because you can’t see anything else and Clavis waves away the question, telling you not to mind the little details, bringing you in to him and tucking a rose behind your ear. You could try make him undo it. You could try to reason out to him why filling a room full of roses was definitely not as romantic as he’d pictured in his head. Try, being the important word there. Because Clavis lives for his pranks and he lives for his amusement and most importantly, he lives to see you smile. Even if you were trying to hide it with a stern frown and narrowed eyes and very obviously failing. You were laughing and he was laughing with you, and oops! Careful not be buried in those roses, darling.

[ythmir-writes]

Be My Valentine Content Creation Challenge 2022 - Day 02

prompt #02: chocolate baking date goes wrong

fandom: Ikemen Prince feat: Luke Randolph 1.6k words

tags: Modern AU, light, fluff, short, a little bit suggestive too quick summary: Narrator is making chocolate with Luke

“Let me see that list again?”

Luke looked around as he set down the paper bags he was carrying on the counter. “Oh, there. By the microwave.”

I grabbed the folded piece of paper before setting down my own bag. It was crumpled and a little smudged but otherwise still legible. I’d gone over the list a hundred times but I wanted to make sure.

Cocoa powder. Vanilla extract. Honey…

“Did we get everything?”

“Yup.” I took out the measuring cups and then heard the soft pop of a jar being opened. I whirled around. “Luke!”

He didn’t stop from scooping a spoonful of honey into his mouth. “Isn’t that why we bought three?”

Well. True. Yves’s instructions said we only needed probably around four or five tablespoons for a small bar. “Just one, okay?”

“Bowl?”

“Tablespoon!”

“What?” Luke genuinely shocked and then his face melted into a pout. “I thought you only needed a jar. There’s so much extra around.”

To be on the receiving end of Luke’s sad puppy-dog eyes was a test I always ended up failing. I had bought three extra large jars because I knew who I was baking with and I did not want to have to run out in the middle of the process. But I had to stand my ground. “After we’ve finished, you can have all the honey you want. But only after.”

That cheered him up. “Promise?”

“Promise.” I placed the paper in-between us. “Now, help me with the measurements.”

When I asked my housemates for original ideas about what to do for Valentines, the ideas had been, well… typically them. Going on a skiing date in Obsidian. Picnic in Japan under blooming sakura. Eating out at a fancy 5 star Michelin restaurant. Transporting truckload of Grandiflora roses from Jade because you could. The suggestions started from insane and went to physically (and financially) impossible.

When I’d asked them about original but realistic date ideas for Valentines when the person of your desires only seemed to like honey, I instantly regretted it.

Leon had looked at me with genuine confusion. “Just give him what he wants. If he likes that, then give him a honey-themed item. Wouldn’t that make him happy?”

“Dip yourself in honey.” Clavis had suggested with a straight face. “He’d love it.”

“Disgusting.” Yves wrinkled his nose.

“Dip yourself in honey and then ask him to eat you out.” Jin had continued.

“You can do it slowly.” Nokto had added. “Fingers first, and then –”

“All of you are incorrigible!” I had hissed, pelting them with my throw pillows.

“It’s genius!”

“You’re all just laying down your horribly imagined fantasies. Obviously this has to be a genuinely romantic, tender-hearted moment that he will be treasuring in his heart forever. Kinks aren’t going to cut it! And no, Leon, he already has those.”

“He collects them?”

I avoided looking at him. “I – uh, bought most of them for him.”

“Of course you baby him.” Clavis’s eyes had been bright with mischief and I glared at him. “But I don’t think Luke is going to mind – ”

I had screeched and was ready to pounce on him. No one was allowed to say names!

“Make something for him, then.”

“What?”

Yves waved a hand. “If you want something memorable, wouldn’t it make sense to give him something you made yourself?” Then he brightened. “Oh, you could bake something for him! Something with honey, maybe?”

And the rest, as they said, was history.

I’ve never made chocolate from scratch before and after Yves explained the entire process, I already felt tired. It was the constant stirring that put me off, when after you melted the cocoa butter and had to continue stirring, checking temperatures, stirring again and again as you add all the other ingredients to make the chocolate. I’d complained as much but Yves wouldn’t have it.

I may have acquired muscle tone in my arms from practicing tempering the chocolate but hey, if it got Luke smiling, I’d say it was worth it. Even if it might not be enough muscle for me really to be able to carry him like he usually did me. Yes, I’m a sap for him. Not going to deny that – I’m learning how to make honey flavored chocolate, aren’t I? I practiced tons; my housemates had incessantly teased me for it for days and complained about me hogging the kitchen.

“Do I add more?” Luke said behind me.

“Just a drop – nice. Perfect.”

Luke hummed and his arm brushed against my waist as he leaned in again to look.

But. I realize now that what I didn’t prepare for was the fact that Luke was there, practically attached to me by the hip, as we made chocolate.

It wasn’t really that I was not used to Luke’s presence but he was just so warm and comforting. And tall. Stood like he could lift a child to the sky and help them pluck the stars. People broke their necks looking up at him. I wasn’t so small but there was something about him standing so close that made me feel like he could envelop me and I’d just be gone. Lost in his fresh scent of forests and dew on grass. He was so much like a bear it was hard not to.

What little space the kitchen made sure we in each other’s reach. It had never been a problem before, even if my housemates and I kept bumping into each other when we lumbered during mornings or scrounged for late night snacks. It had never occurred to me until that time, standing so close to Luke, how tiny it really was; turn around and you went from one counter to the next. Three steps and you’d be from the kitchen sink to the refrigerator.

Luke could practically raise a hand and grab the mugs on the shelf without moving an inch. Which is what he’d been doing, really, whenever I asked him to pass me something or other. Feeling his chest almost to my back was not doing me any favors. I could feel the heat from him. If I leaned further, would he step away or step closer? Did I dare find out? Would it be so bad if –

“I’ve never had chocolate with honey before.”

“Really?” I asked, glad for the interruption to my thoughts. “I’m actually surprised.”

“I usually just go straight in for the honey, y’know. I guess the combination just never occurred to me.”

“Me either.” I said. “Yves says honey’s usually used as an alternative to sugar in desserts. More organic, stuff like that. But he also says chocolate’s got a lot of combinations already.”

“Oh?”

“He didn’t expect me to know.” I shook my head chuckling, remembering how Yves had given me a 101 on chocolates. “Let’s see, there’s matcha chocolate, beer chocolate – although that’s not surprising since we know alcohol’s already a good pair – coconut, jalapeno peppers, tomato – ”

“Tomatoes?”

“Sun dried. Yup.” I grinned at Luke’s grimace. “Do you want to try one?”

“Hard pass.”

I laughed as I gave the chocolate an extra two whisks. The mixture looked smooth enough but I needed it to perfect. “Want to give it a go?”

Luke’s face lit up. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”

I handed him the whisk, expected him to move beside me but he didn’t. Instead, Luke just leaned in closer to me, caging me in-between his arms, his chest pressed against my back.

“Comfy?” He asked, and I closed my eyes to remind myself humans did not purr. The rumbling sound was his voice in his chest and not me vibrating with anticipation.

“Yes.” Had my voice always sounded so raspy? I coughed. “Okay, so stir slow, but not too slow.”

“All right.”

“We’re trying not to get air in there but we need it to be a rich consistency.”

“Okay.”

I focused every fiber of my being on the chocolate, trying my very best to ignore how much I wanted to melt into him, to have him wrap his arms around for a tight hug, to turn around and ohmygod was Luke’s breath tickling my ear or am I being too sensitive? Does it feel like he’s brushing his lips against my ear or am I… Maybe I could have a little treat?

The bowl slipped. How did it slip? I yelped, tried to grab at it at the same time Luke stepped back in surprise. I tipped too hard, the bowl tilting, and –

“Ohmygoodness.” I breathed a sigh of relief as I steadied the glass bowl. I had some chocolate on my fingers but it was fine. We didn’t break anything. Yves wouldn’t have our necks. I exhaled a laugh, looked at Luke who was still quite in shock. “That was close.”

“I’m sorry.” He said, his expression turning sheepish. “I just wanted… Too much?”

Too little. But I kept that thought sealed and shook my head instead.

“You got chocolate on your hand.”

“I’ll wash it off. You could continue whisking and I’ll – ”

I’d meant to turn away from Luke, not into him. But as I’ve said, he was big and the kitchen was small and he was in front of me and he’d taken my chocolate coated fingers and brought them to his mouth. All he did was lick, swiping the tip of his tongue on my index finger, before gazing at me with hooded eyes.

If I moved, I felt like he would devour me whole.

So I didn’t and instead pressed my fingers ever so slightly on his lower lip. “Thoughts?”

His smile was playful, almost wicked, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Best chocolate I’ve ever had.”

“Because of the honey?”

“Not just.” Luke’s hands found my hips, his mouth in open invitation. “May I?”

How could I possibly resist?

[ythmir-writes]

Fictober 21, Day 03

Prompt: I've waited for this. Fandom: Ikemen Prince feat: Leon Dompteur Audience: General Tags: painful 1471 words

She watched Leon approach her and berated herself for the way her heart began to flutter.

It should be impossible for a single man to be so much larger than life. Yet there he was, walking towards her, holding not just her fate but the fate of thousands of Rhodolitians on his shoulders and not looking any worse for wear. Here was a man who had all the tell-tale signs of classic royalty: handsome, charming, extremely likeable, with an air around him that made people want to follow him to the end of the world and back. He laughed and people swooned. He thundered with power on the battlefield and his enemies yielded.

The first time they had met, he had frightened her. It should be impossible for a man like Leon Dompteur to exist. And that feeling had only escalated the more she came to know him. With his warm smile, and his laughter, with his kindness and compassion. With that cruelty that can only come from a good man with good intentions.

Here was a man so brave, so absolutely reckless in his willingness to give only the best for Rhodolite that he could leave himself empty and yet still find something in him to smile.

She was afraid of him because he was everything she hoped she could become.

“Finally found you,” Leon said.

She should run away, she told herself, as Leon took the last steps to stand beside her under the wisteria, smile warming her through. She should run and hide and shield her eyes away from his sunlight. She should shrink away, stop him from reaching out to touch her cheek. She should not nuzzle against his hand. She should –

She should try to be brave like him and never tell him the truth.

“I missed you,” Leon said to her.

Damn it all.

“All’s well with the campaign, then?” She smiled back, ignoring the tug his words made on her heart.

A flash of tiredness came to his eyes, and he let his hand drop. “We were able to drive away the last of the Obsidian knights. The eastern borders are clean but I still had Jin make a final sweep. You can never be too careful.”

“And Chevalier?”

“Recovering,” Leon answered, this time a hint of sadness crossing his features.

Before she could stop herself, she placed a hand on his shoulders. “It’s not your fault.”

“So you’ve repeatedly told me.”

“A few scrapes won’t keep the Tiger down.”

“True.” Leon let out a quiet laugh. “How’s the Castle been?”

“Same old, same old.” She shrugged. “Clavis, bless him, has found a new best friend in Nokto. Luke has been staying more since everyone else save the three of them have been away. Sariel’s been busy and been keeping me and Rio busy. I never imagined his duties to be so extensive. It’s like a different reality altogether.”

“Much more confusing than attending balls?”

“Simpler, actually.” She could not help but grin. “You have to dance at a ball. Here, sometimes all you need is a well-placed knife.”

At that, Leon barked out a laugh and she allowed herself to join him.

A lull in the conversation then, as the two of them quietly watched the sky from beneath the purple flowers.

She should turn him away now. Leave him to his stately duties. He had no injuries as far as she can see - that was enough for her to know. He would be expected inside the palace, where his place was. Sariel would be calling for him as soon as he stepped inside. Then, Clavis and Nokto would be waiting to fill him in with their reports. “You should get some rest. You’re literally still in half your armor.”

“I wanted to see you first.” Leon smiled.

Her heart thumped again at that, and she looked down at her hands before she could say anything she would regret. “You know where to find me. You could have visited after.”

“I wanted to give you something.”

“You could have had Rio – ”

“No.” She heard Leon move closer again. “Based on my experience, Sariel’s favorite apprentice is more elusive than the man himself. So, no not a chance. I’ve waited for this. Sariel and Jin have explained it all and they both oweme this much.

That made her look up at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

Leon took a deep breath, as if gathering strength. “I don’t care what anyone says, I owe you more than anyone alive in the kingdom right now.

“And I’ve missed you.” Leon said again, with just a little bit more pain, a little bit more desperation. “I miss you. Nothing has been the same since…”

Since I made you King, she finished in her thoughts, pressing her lips together, reminding herself again to be brave.

When it was obvious she would not reply, Leon ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “You made it clear that you’re abiding by the law. Sariel and Jin explained it all to me so many goddamn times I’m still angry just remembering it –”

“Leon –”

“ – and as much as I think it’s a stupid law, I respect your choice.” He finished in a huff. “And I’m not going to try and convince you otherwise. We all make hard choices.”

It was not fair to hear him so dejected.

“So. For everything you’ve done for me, for my brothers, and for this kingdom, respecting that choice is the least I can do.” Leon looked as if he had so many other things to say but decided against it. “But I have something else too. Hold out your hand.”

“What?”

“Hold out your hand, please.”

She did.

Leon reached inside his chainmail, taking out a small pouch that hung from his neck. He shook it and a pair of garnet earrings set on intricately carved gold lion’s head tumbled unto her palm, glittering in the sunlight.

“I would not be here if it were not for you. So, I want for you to have these as…” Leon hesitated again, as if it physically pained him to stop the tide of words spilling from his mouth. “As a heartfelt appreciation for what you did. For what you do.”

Panic bubbled inside her. “I don’t think I could accept a gift from – ”

“Please. From me.”

She stared at him. Whatever protest she may have had died in her throat. What was she to say to that? What could she possibly retort to such an honest confession? Despite all that Sariel had lauded her for her wit and her cunning and her tongue-in-cheek remarks at Court – what was she to say in the face of a heart bared?

Or at least, placed delicately in her hands, in Dompteur colors and the Dompteur crest.

“They’re beautiful,” she said.

“To match you.” There was reverence in his tone. “May I?”

She could have moved, turned to let Leon have an easier time to put the earrings on her. Or she could have done it herself, cut the anxiety before it spiraled out of control.

But she didn’t. She simply nodded.

She felt Leon move closer again, taking the earring and closing it around her ear. She felt his small exhales, felt the heat from him mingle with hers. His fingers grazed skin, lingered there, and it took everything in her to control herself and not have her heart burst from her chest.

She let out a breath she had not meant to hold in, an almost shuddering relief at the longest six seconds of her life. But the movement only signaled to her that Leon, despite having put the pair on her, had not bothered moving away.

She tried to calm herself, to let her breathing continue its steady even beat, as she slowly opened her eyes. Her mind needed to be calm, when her heart refused to contain its joy at their proximity.

Leon was looking at her as if he could coax from her eyes alone everything he knew she refused to say. She felt his fingers slowly run down her arms, pause at her wrists, hold her hands so lightly as if anything more could make her bolt.

She needed to move. Now. She needed the courage to dampen the moment before it could escalate into something else, something beautiful and wondrous and ultimately damnably tragic. She needed to remember who she had been, what her duties had entailed. That Leon was classic royalty. Not for commoners. Especially not for former Belles. She needed to be brave and burn down this path.

But then, she felt Leon’s lips on hers as he whispered, “Stay with me for a little while?”

She closed her eyes. Did not move.

And how she was such a coward.

[ythmir-writes]

Be My Valentine Content Creation Challenge 2022 - Day 03

prompt #06: Comparing hand sizes and immediately blushing after

fandom: Ikemen Prince feat: Jin Grandet 1.9k words

tags: Modern AU, working at a bakery, light, fluff, with a named OC quick summary: Maris works at a bakery, Jin is their favorite coworker

Morning shift was always lively where Maris worked and today was no different. One moment they were shivering in the biting three a.m. cold, the next, they were greeted by the warmth of a bakery beginning its day.

Even with the distance between the kitchen and the employee lockers, Maris could hear the sound of pans being placed on tables, the rhythmic sound of dough being kneaded to start the bread, the beeping of probably the first batch of loaves, and of course the usual conversation that signalled the start of their working day.

“Beans are going to be late today.”

“Again?”

Maris chuckled. In all their time working at Good Seasons Bakeshop, three things were constant. One, their coffee beans arrived late no matter how early they placed their orders. Two, Yves Kloss always reacted vehemently whenever it was mentioned. And three…

“Good morning, Maris.”

Three was that it was always a fantastic shift when they were with Jin Grandet.

“Good morning, Jin, Yves.” Maris greeted the two and took a moment to breathe in the aroma of morning prep. Jin was already loading the planetary mixer with the heavy dough and Yves had laid out the beginnings of the day’s brioche. “Heard the coffee’s gonna be late again?”

“That Nokto.” Yves grumbled, face souring. “I swear he’s doing it on purpose.”

“He’ll pull through.” Maris said.

“Always does.” Jin added.

“Barely!” Yves protested at them. “Don’t smile like that, Jin!”

“I’m just saying Nokto’ll be here before you know it.” Jin stepped away from the mixer to let it do its work. “Morning’s busy enough you won’t notice.”

“You know how stressed I get when we don’t have all the ingredients here.” Yves would not let the absent man off the hook. “What if I needed it now? What if Maris needed it now?” Yves continued on about the importance of being on time. Maris, as always, did their best to listen but as soon as Jin approached their shared countertop, they were gone.

It was easy enough for anyone to have a crush on the man, honestly. Tall, with close-cropped hair, broad shoulders, and muscular arms that Maris had often enough imagined could easily sweep them off their feet. Jin also had a smile that was both easy-going and sincere and he was aiming that smile at them now and it took everything in them to act casual.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Got here okay? Wasn’t too cold?” Jin asked, placing the dough on the table.

Maris tried to recall what they’ve seen on the weather app, distracting themselves from Jin’s arms. “Probably around five? Three degrees? But it was okay. I had a coat and a scarf on this time.” Jin’s smile widened and Maris matched his grin.

Three weeks ago, Maris did not have the best start to their day. They had stayed up all night trying to comfort their sister over a phone call, missed their alarm, and woke up late. Their shower had been biting cold, the tank water heater for the apartment failed for one reason or other. They’d run to the bakery to make up for time, chilled to the bone despite the three layers of clothing and their thickest jacket, and slipped on wet pavement. Twice.

It was a bad case of things going horribly wrong all at once. They were just about ready to call in sick – there was only so much bad luck a person can handle – when they rounded a corner and ran headlong into Jin. Maris was certain they had bounced off of him with a loud oomph but Jin had caught them and steadied them on their feet. “Maris? Are you okay?”

It was not fair, Maris had thought. There they were, wet and miserable and cranky, and in front of them was Jin, impeccable in a long gray houndstooth patterned coat and a thick scarf. He had looked at them worriedly. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

““Work.” They’d blinked. “We have a shift and we’re late.”

“It’s a Sunday.”

It had taken a few moments for Maris to process what Jin had said. In the span of time between them hearing it and their understanding what had just been said, Maris’s cheeks were warm enough to spread heat all the way to their toes. “Sunday.” They repeated.

“Bad morning?” Jin had tried to lighten the mood but his smile turned worried again. “Are you sure you’re all right? You’re shivering.” Before they could answer, Jin had taken off his scarf and wrapped it around their neck, securing it with a small loop. Then, he declared that they looked like they hadn’t eaten and steered them to a nearby diner. They’d shared thin pancakes and bad coffee and Maris remembered laughing so hard they’d forgotten how bad their morning had gone.

Now that they thought about, Maris wondered why Jin had been dressed up at six in the morning on a Sunday. Had he meant to go somewhere or was he back from something? He had been carrying a rather large bag.

No. It wasn't their business. “I brought the scarf.” Maris said to Jin. "Thanks again for that."

“Keep it.” Jin replied, cutting more of the dough for Maris to ball. “I got plenty of those.”

Maris frowned a little. At first glance, the scarf had looked simple but when they’d gotten home, they realized it was an expensive brand. They weren’t sure if they should own something so luxurious. “I got plenty of scarves too.” They kneeled down the countertop to get a stack of metal trays for the donuts.

“Maybe I like seeing you wear something from me.”

The comment had caught Maris off-guard. They almost dropped the trays and they clanged loudly enough for the two men to ask if they was all right, with Yves tut-tutting from his station. They assured them they were, and as they straightened and floured up the trays, pretended they had not heard what Jin had just said.

No way that was serious.

For all that Maris had a crush on Jin, they knew their chances of anything romantic was practically zero. Jin was a gentleman, sure; funny and charming and doting in his own way. He cared for the bakery, treated them all like friends, and was a genuinely good man. But he was also very vocal about his tastes in women and Maris was the direct opposite of everything he found attractive.

It was fine. No, really it was. Maris understood the attraction, even. For someone as stunning as Jin, he should have a partner that was just as equally stunning. And besides, it was just a crush for them anyway. It wasn’t a bad thing to have a crush on a workmate. They wouldn’t want to stand in the way of Jin’s romantic endeavors because of simple infatuation.

Yeah.

Maris breathed a small sigh of relief as Jin went away to load more heavy dough into the mixer before heading to check the ovens. The smell of freshly baked bread filled the kitchen and with that, Maris turned back to their work.

They were in charge of donuts and cupcakes usually, and the occasional filled buns. It was easy enough to fall into the rhythm of baking, focusing on their hands and to their own internal beat. Roll, swipe, roll, fill, slather. On repeat.

Soon enough, the smell of different kinds of bread was heavy in the air and they began assembling their products on the shelves. At around six, their front door rang with a soft tune and Nokto arrived with the coffee.

He greeted Maris with a flourish of his clipboard and a bow. “A fine morning to the effervescent Maris!”

“I’m also right here.” Jin complained loudly.

“Quite unfortunate, really.” Nokto gave him an exaggerated frown.

Maris bumped their fist on Nokto’s shoulder in a friendly gesture. “Yves is going to scold you again.”

“Part of my every day.”

“You could come in earlier, y’know. Save him the headache.”

“And miss watching Yves blow steam through his ears? I think not.”

As if on cue, Yves appeared, probably having spied Nokto from inside. “You!”

Nokto was all smiles. “Me?”

Maris chuckled as the two’s usual banter began, and took the clipboard from Nokto. They went over the list of coffee beans, more of a formality than anything. Nokto always delivered whatever the bakery needed. Then, they noticed an extra two boxes. “Are these right?”

Nokto looked over at their shoulder. “Oh, yeah. Boss wanted some extra for this week. Valentine’s Day and all.”

Maris had almost forgotten. That would explain why Yves had been clearing up the shop’s board earlier. They glanced at Jin, wondered if he would have a date. Receive chocolates, maybe. Then, dismissed the thought. “All right. Let’s get to it, then.”

After hours of baking, the cool air was pleasant and Maris took in a lungful. A few people were already out in the street, hurrying to catch trains or buses into the city proper. Maris had been part of that scene before and they were glad to have found work in a place that didn’t involve suffering through long and dreadful commutes.

Nokto lowered his truck’s tailgate and Maris pulled a box to themselves.

“What are you doing?”

Maris didn’t register the question being aimed at them and bumped into Jin as they turned. They stepped back just as Jin stepped forward and took the box in their hands. “Hey!”

“Hey, yourself.” Jin said. “Nokto and I’ll handle these. You go get the rest of the trays ready.”

“Pfft. I can handle a box.” Maris said, ignoring how Jin’s hand had brushed over theirs. They took another box from the truck – heavier than the last – but they weren’t going to let that stop them. They carried it all the way into the front of the shop, back into the kitchens, and did their best not to groan in relief as they laid it down on the floor.

Jin didn’t miss their huff of breath. “We’ll get the rest.”

They began to protest. Jin stepped closer, took their hand in his and spread their fingers so that they were splayed against each other. “I can hold twice as much so don’t argue.”

How could they? When all they could think of was that Jin’s hands were big, warm, a little calloused. But they were surprisingly smooth and as Maris ran their fingers across his palms to his wrists, they realized he’d fell silent.

Jin was blushing.

“I – !” They both began to say but stopped short when they realized the other was speaking. A moment passed, and then another, and both of them burst out laughing at the silly awkwardness of it all.

“We’ll get the boxes – don’t argue. Please.” Jin said, his smile softening. “It’ll look bad for me to let my Belle carry all the weight here.”

Maris’ throat was suddenly very dry. “Well... Well, this Belle can carry anything they want. Boxes full of Valentine’s coffee, even.”

“I know. But I’m saying just let me take care of it.” Jin squeezed their hand and it was only then that Maris realized he hasn’t let theirs go. “If anything happened to you on my watch I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.”

Don’t put too much thought in it. Don’t put too much thought in this. “My gallant knight.” Their tone was almost dry and not at all squeaky.

Jin laughed and Maris told their insides not to have any more butterflies than it already had. “For you? Gladly.”

They would have protested again, but Yves was calling them and it seemed like the perfect excuse to just return to work.

[ythmir-writes]

Fictober21, Day 04

Prompt: Fine, I give up Fandom: Ikemen Vampire feat: Le Comte Audience: General, no warnings

“I thought Sebastian was exaggerating.”

Le Comte only barely caught Leonardo entering his private study, slipping in without sound into the room as only old vampires can do. Any other day, Le Comte would have acknowledged his fellow pureblood the moment Leonardo stepped into view, but at the moment he was too consumed by the task at hand.

He needed to finish placing the final gold leaves on the book before dinner service. And he still had two pages left.

“Never one to spare expense, eh?” Leonardo commented, fishing out a fresh roll of tobacco from his coat.

“Only the very best will do.”

“Real gold?” Leonardo’s tone was both a question and not.

“And why would I use anything else?” Le Comte chuckled.

Leonardo took a drag, stepped close enough without encroaching on the space, and watched Le Comte return to work.

It did not take a particularly skillful hand to dot a book’s pages with gold – but it did take a very patient one. One had to cut the leaf into miniscule strips, dab just the right amount of adhesive with an even tinier brush, and carefully dab them on the paper. Then, the glue had to be dried – a process which took hours depending on the size of the gold leaf – and then started again.

Le Comte had to admit though, during the first few pages, he thought he was a little bit out of his depth. When he had consulted with the local library about gilding a book, how long the process would take, and if an amateur – say a person who, without much skill but had a lot of time, who had never had any experience working with their hands, who suddenly and out of the blue decided they should do it – could do it, their answers had made it seem like an easy process.

Now, if an average person could do it, surely a vampire could too. Because a vampire could do a lot of things; particularly stubborn and determined vampires have been known to change the world, after all.

And while Le Comte knew that he could, on occasion, be stubborn, he did not really think of himself as determined. And definitely did not imagine himself as a combination of both. But he had given his word. Le Comte had promised their beloved a golden book. So a golden book, he will deliver.

Eventually, it had become meditative. The thought of their beloved’s smile when he would present the gift to her was more than enough motivation for him to forge on.

“What exactly did Sebastian say?” Le Comte asked after a while.

“That you were, and I quote, overdoing it.”

Le Comte felt both his brows rise, unsure whether Leonardo was being truthful or sarcastic. “Is it a little too much? Tell me, honestly.”

Leonardo gestured vaguely at the book. “You’re setting it in gold.”

“It’s their favorite book.” Le Comte looked back at the encyclopedia. “You know they’ve been talking about it non-stop since they came over.”

“I know that,” Leonardo chuckled. “And you’ve talked extensively about nothing else for a week when it was brought up. Could hardly get a word in with either of you. Even in bed.”

“So how – ?”

“But how are they going to read it if it’s looking like a national treasure?”

“Are you saying I should get two copies? Or three?” Le Comte considered the idea, remembering their beloved’s rule of three. He did not see the way Leonardo was already shaking his head in quiet laughter.

“All I’m saying is, you’ve already had the thing reprinted, bound in special leather, shipped over two oceans, and now your dabbing actual precious metal on every page.” Leonardo chuckled. “Is this not a little bit too much for an anniversary gift?”

Le Comte looked at him, genuinely confused.

“Fine. I give up.” Leonardo raised his hands. "I swear this will be a repeat of that again. They’re gonna take this to bed and I won’t have any good night kisses because they’re reading and it’s all your fault.”

It was Le Comte’s turn to laugh. “I am respectfully refusing to comment.” He looked at the time, saw enough had passed, and proceeded to cut another leaf. “Speaking of gifts, have you decided on what to give them?”

This time, Leonardo’s grin was tender. Le Comte knew that look too well on his friend. “A painting.”

“And you say I’m overdoing it?”

“Mine doesn’t cost half the mansion.”

“Oh, but it will.”

[ythmir-writes]

hey everyone!

I'll be participating in @xxsycamore and @chaosangel767's Be My Valentine Content Creation Challenge ! the prompt list and instruction post is over here

i tried my best coming up with sweet (and some action-filled!) scenarios for the princes of IkePri. i have stuff planned ahead so i hope i can finish on time. i will do my best to post until the end

the prompts got me out of a writing funk so i used this opportunity to try out variations in narrative style (dont we always do). i hope you enjoy reading these and all the other stories and art to come out of the challenge 🙇‍♀️

there will be a masterlist of the works of all participating artists on the 28th / i will be making a separate post for my own works once the challenge has finished

please check out the tag Be My Valentine Content Creation Challenge. Let's all spend a lovely Valentines with much love!

Minor edit: the masterlist for all works will be on the 28th

[ythmir-writes]

Fictober 21, Day 08

prompt: This is it, isn't it? fandom: Ikemen Prince feat: Sariel Noir audience/tags: NA

“Lingering is unlike you.”

Sariel’s voice echoed through the now empty ballroom – well, mostly empty. Or at least, no one of note. Apart from the two of us, there were just the guards, keeping their eyes on me as per usual, and the servants, picking up after the grandest ball Rhodolite had ever seen.

Despite some servants turning their hands to look at him, I pretended not to hear Sariel; pretended to be blissfully unaware of his presence, even as he stood an arm’s reach away. On any other day, I would have been at attention, but the alcohol in my veins gave me enough courage to stall. I concentrated on the delectable desserts in front of me instead, picking up the piece of sylvana I had been eyeing ever since they were placed on the table. A lot of desserts came from our allies in the east and it was a shame they had not brought more. I took a tentative bite, almost melted on the spot from the creamy goodness, and wished I had not been so caught up at the enormity of the ball that I only just now succumbed to these temptations.

But the devil had spoken and, despite my slight intoxication, there will be no denying him the attention any further.

“My last night ought to be at least satisfactory to my famous sweet tooth.” I said, turning to him and inclining my head at the colourful display in front of us. “Now that everything’s done, my nerves are no longer shot. I can eat in peace.”

Sariel gave the desserts a perfunctory nod. “I noticed you’ve been eyeing them all night.”

I took another bite from the sylvana. There was no use denying that. Sariel noticed everything. “Anything else you noticed?” I asked, more conversational than really interested as I turned to pick up a pink macaron, popping it into my mouth.

And it was not like Sariel was going to tell me anything anymore anyway. My job was done. My services no longer required by Rhodolite’s chief minister. My extended stay would, moving forward, only be formal, easing me slowly from my life here at the castle to the next step. Then, it would be nothing but business and more business. One’s affairs do not pause simply because of the coronation ball.

If anything, tonight would be the last night I would have in peace. Pecking away at desserts while slightly inebriated seemed like a good way to spend it. I picked up my champagne glass – dutifully refilled by a passing maid – and then took a generous gulp. Then, I made eyes at the dessert table again, wondering if I should get a small fruit tart or the crème brulee.

“I noticed that you looked absolutely stunning,” Sariel suddenly said, matter-of-factly. “I noticed how the other nobles fawned over you. I noticed how easy you could bespell them all with your laughter. I noticed how you carried yourself with dignity as you spoke your piece before the court."

"All part of the magic."

“And I noticed just how lonely you really looked when it ended.”

The devil did take time to look at details.

He was right. There was a bit of loneliness there, a splinter in my heart that throbbed with every breath.

"I'll miss this." I motioned to the long pile of food. "And this." I raised my glass. Then, I turned my head and motioned to the guards. "Those, not so much."

"Those were for your protection."

"Stifling."

"Only if you are up to no good." Sariel's eyes twinkled at that, at memories of how, hopefully, adorable I had been whenever I tried sneaking off the castle when everything was a little bit too much.

"But really, I will miss all of this." I gazed around the ballroom before raising my eyes towards the high ceiling, looking once more at the frescoes decorating it.

Rhodolite was an old kingdom. Older than Jade or Obsidian. Legend has it the Priors, the gods worshipped by the kingdoms, were all siblings who once lived in harmony in Rhodolite, before breaking apart to explore the outside world and starting their own kingdoms. The eldest had stayed behind in Rhodolite to continue the work. The fresco above told that story.

"This is it, isn't it?" I muttered. “No matter how grandiose, duty is a lonely word.”

“One we share.” He smiled at that, a genuine one. I know this because of how equally lonely it looked. “One we know all too well.”

We both looked up and for a moment the fresco seemed almost like a life story.

I had half-forgotten the man standing beside me, to be honest, except he had called my name, picked up a fruit tart with sliced strawberries, and offered it to me.

I raised my brows at that, surprised. Sariel had never been partial to sweets. I had never seen him eat anything sweet, save for what was considered polite during meetings over tea.

I would have taken the tart all prim and proper, in all honesty. Would have plucked the tart from his fingers before taking it a bite. Except, he had raised it up to my lips now. And who was I to deny the offered delight in front of me? I opened my mouth and bit as much as I could chew. Not enough for me to taste his fingers. But almost.

Like everything else that was between us. Almost mentor and student. Almost comrade in arms. Almost more than just friends.

An almost Monarch, and an ardently faithful servant.

Sariel did not take his eyes off me as he polished off the rest of the tart, and I watched with rapt attention as he liked the cream off his fingers.

How long we stood there watching each other, I could not say. Neither of us seemed to want to break the moment and yet at the same time both of us wanted to move on. Perhaps, that was something we also mutually shared. We saw, and yet refused to see. We saw, and yet refused to know. Not when it came to matters unrelated to that lonely, lonely word.

Easier to shed everything else that was not tied to duty when a kingdom was at stake after all.