#clavis lelouch fic

[dicenete]

So what if he didn't have the self-discipline? I just thought how cute it is, he simping for MC so hard. Amount of self-control Clavis has is admirable. I think this was from Beast in Heat event? Or maybe it was the AU event where Clavis was a phantom thief? Don't remember anymore xd IkePri Tag Team:

@scummy-writes @goustmilk @solacedeer @m-mmiy @mxrmaid-poet

@pawnkyyy @ludivineikewolf @violettduchess @floydsteeth @wistfulwanderingone

@sh0jun @lorei-writes

[cloudcountry]

okay i saw you want Ikemen requests so how about, everyone one have been getting pranked and they all think it's clavis but it's actually mc, and clavis knows this but he takes the blame so mc don't lose her reputation and she's thankful that she can get back at the princes without consequences 😇

i hope this makes sense and if not please ignore

SUMMARY: clavis takes the fall for you, and you're left wondering why.

WARNINGS: none!! :D

COMMENTS: this actually SUCH A CUTE REQUEST??? im trying to gte my requests cleaned out so hopefully i'll be writing more,,,, no promises though yikes

First, it was Jin’s lollipops being coated in a salty-spicy substance. This event occurred a day after he’d made a weird pass at you, and everyone thought it was Clavis.

Next, it was Nokto’s shoes having their laces tied together. Once he slipped his feet into them, he found that they were filled with tissues that were delicate enough to keep ripping when he tried to pull them out. This happened a day after he’d hit on you, and everyone thought it was Clavis.

The most dastardly of them all happened a week ago when Chevalier’s book collection had been touched. Some of the books had had their paper covering swapped to confuse him, and everyone thought it was Clavis.

Everyone except for you.

Innocent and pure heart? You think not!

It started as a scheme to get the princes to stop messing with you. A scheme you were ready and willing to take the blame for after everything they’d put you through. You were sure Rio knew already, being the only one in the palace who was acquainted with your mischievous nature.

What you didn’t expect was for Clavis to take the blame for you.

The first two pranks, it was simply an assumption. After all, nobody expected Belle to be behind any of the pranks in the palace as long as they had the notoriously evil prince lurking about.

“Why do you do it?” you ask, staring hard at Clavis when he serves you breakfast the next morning.

“Why do I do what?” he says, a challenging smirk on his lips.

“You know what I mean. You take the blame for the pranks I pull.” you say, pinching what you think is supposed to be a croissant between your index finger and thumb, “You know I do them to get back at your brothers, right?”

“Oh I’m aware. Nothing escapes me, Belle.” he snickers, leaning back against the couch, “You’re smart. You’ll figure it out yourself.”

He’s so frustrating.

And yet, that thought doesn’t stop the budding affection you feel for him.

[writingwhimsey]

Hello!

Congrats for the milestone, and cheers to many more!! :D

If the requests are still open... Could I ask for Clavis + Blind Date + Crack Fic?

Thank you in advance and congrats once more! 🙈

Sorry it has taken me so long to answer this and thank you so much for the ask and the support. Without further ado, here we are with some more Clavis crack! I hope you enjoy!

A Blind Date...Literally

“I can’t believe I agreed to this.” Emma murmured to herself as she stood at the entrance to the local tavern. “But those gifts and letters seemed genuine and heartfelt…I guess I should at least see who my secret admirer is.”

Emma did have to admit that it was a bit exciting and very flattering. She had come with the intentions of letting whoever it was down easy. She didn’t really have time for such things right now, being Belle and all. She barely managed to squeeze in time for this meeting, the way Sariel had been working her and the way she’d been meeting with all of the princes… Clavis especially keeping her on her toes.

Emma opened the door and walked inside, heading to the bar as the letter had instructed. The barkeep smiled at her. “You must be Emma?”

“Yes. I’m supposed to be meeting someone…”

The barkeep nodded and gave her a sheepish smile. “He’s waiting in the private room for you.” He explained. “And uh…well he asked me to give you this. Said you should put it on before going inside.”

Emma took the object the barkeep held out and looked at it. It was just a black scrap of cloth. “What in the world am I supposed to do with this?”

“It’s a blindfold.” The barkeep said. “Your mystery man said something about…uh…a blind date.”

Emma blinked. “What…” It was then that she recalled a conversation she’d had in the palace just a few days ago when she had asked for leave to attend a friend from town’s wedding. The friend had met her groom on a blind date. Emma had told this to Sariel, Rio, and Clavis. “He wouldn’t…” She murmured.

“You want me to tell him you changed your mind?” The barkeep asked.

Emma sighed. “No. I’ll go.” She said, heading to the back room of the tavern. She stood outside the door a moment, looking down at the blindfold in her hands. She debated internally for quite some time before finally sighing. “Ugh…I can’t believe he’s getting me to go along with his stupid plans once again…” She muttered putting on the blindfold before feeling for the doorknob and letting herself in.

“Ah, there you are.” The familiar voice said. “I knew you’d come,..or at least I hope it’s you, Emma.”

“Wait, how do you not know?” Emma asked.

Clavis chuckled. “I’m blindfolded, too.” He answered.

“How do you know I’m wearing mine?” Emma asked.

“I heard you fumbling for the doorknob.” Clavis answered. “Also, I know you. You wanted to have some fun and this sounded like fun.”

Emma sighed. “You know, blind date isn’t usually so…literal.”

“I know, but it wouldn’t really be a blind date in the traditional sense because we already know each other.” Clavis explained.

Emma could hear the sound of a chair scraping the floor. She then heard movement and soon a couple of footsteps before Clavis let out an, “Oof…” as something smacked loudly against something else.

“Clavis…?”

“I’m…alright.” Clavis replied. Footsteps, this time slower and what sounded like hands moving over everything. It was moments later Emma felt a hand on her arm. 

“That had better be you, Clavis.” She said, her tone slightly irritated.

“I promise it is me.” Clavis replied, his hand sliding down her arm and taking her hand. “Now allow me to help you to your seat.”

“I can’t believe I’m still going along with this.” Emma muttered with a sigh.

Emma could hear and feel Clavis moving next to her and soon his hand was bringing hers up and she soon felt it resting in the crook of his elbow. She reached out with her free hand, trying to find anything she could use to help feel her way through the darkness. With the way Clavis had stumbled to her, she couldn’t depend on him to safely lead her to her chair…and she was right.

The pair stumbled their way to the table. They knew when they had reached the table when they both collided with it. “Ow…Clavis, we should just take these off…”

“Now, now where would the fun be in that?” Clavis replied. “Come, have a seat.” Emma could hear the sound of Clavis fumbling before a chair was scraping across the floor. 

Emma sighed once again and reached her hand out, feeling for the chair. Once she was certain of the chair’s position, Emma cautiously began to lower herself onto the cushion.

Clavis reached a hand out, intending to place it on her back as a helpful guide…but landing a bit too low. 

“Clavis, that is NOT my back.” Emma scolded.

“My apologies.” Clavis replied, not at all sounding apologetic.

“I swear if you’re not actually wearing a blindfold…”

Emma was interrupted by the feel of Clavis’s hand on hers and the sensation of her hand being picked up until her fingertips were resting on his face. He guided her fingers over his face, allowing her to get a feel of his chin, cheek, nose, and then the gentle silk that rested over his eyes.

“Well…okay…But if you do something like that again, I am taking mine off and treating you to the famous Belle slap.”

“That’s tempting.” Clavis replied and Emma could hear the grin in his voice, seeing it clearly in her mind’s eye.

Once Emma had been seated, Clavis felt his way around the table before going to his seat. Moments later a waiter was bringing in food and drink.

“It’s Cyran, isn’t it?” Emma asked.

“Yes, it is me, my lady.” Cyran spoke. “None of the actual waiters wanted to go along with Clavis’s plan.”

“Some people are just afraid of trying something new.” Clavis replied.

Cyran was leaning down to whisper in Emma’s ear. “If you want out of this at any point, just say the word and I’ll come in here and get you out.”

“Thank you, Cyran.” Emma replied, a genuine smile coming to her face.

Clavis frowned. “Alright, alright. Now come let us have some fun.” He declared. “And I promise this will be a good time.”

“I just know I’m going to end up with something on me…or injured.” Emma replied.

“I would never allow harm to come to my lady. I am a gentleman afterall.” Clavis retorted.

Emma could hear Cyran leaving, but she was aware of his presence outside the door. “So, what is this all about, Clavis?” Emma asked.

“You’ve been working so hard, I thought you deserved a reward.” Clavis replied. “All work and no play…”

Emma sighed. “Alright…so is this food from the tavern or…”

“My creations, of course.” Clavis replied, very proud and confident.

Emma sighed. “Well…at least I won’t be able to see how terrible it looks.” She muttered. She was then feeling at the table in front of her, looking for her cutlery and plate. She could hear the sounds of Clavis doing the same.

It took Emma a moment to get her bearings…and there were a few dropped bites of food, but she managed.

“Oh dear…another one…” Clavis muttered.

“Are you dropping your food?” Emma asked.

“It is a bit harder to adjust than I thought.” Clavis admitted. 

Emma laughed and shook her head. “We could just…”

“No, we will get through this. There are plenty of people who are blind from birth and they manage just fine.” Clavis replied. 

“You do have a point.” Emma replied. “But they’ve had more time to adjust.”

“We’ll be fine.” CLavis replied. “New experiences are fun. Besides are you not the one who was talking about how romantic blind dates are?”

Emma sighed. “I can’t win with you can I?”

“Oh, of course you are winning with me.” Clavis replied. 

The pair continued their meal, keeping a light conversation going. After a bit Emma heard more movement and what sounded like people entering the room. The next thing she knew, music was being played.

“Ah, right on time.” Clavis said, clapping his gloved hands together.

“Right on time for what?” Emma asked.

“For us to share a dance, of course.” Clavis replied and Emma could picture the gleeful grin on his face.

“Oh…Clavis…no…”

Clavis was already getting up and following the sound of Emma’s voice to stand in front of her. He held out his hand. “Come now, we can’t have a date without a dance.”

Emma sighed. “Alright…” She was then reaching out, trying to find Clavis’s hand…what neither of them realized is that his back was to her and her hand ended up grasping his butt.

“Oh my, this Belle is very forward.” Clavis said with a laugh.

Emma felt her cheeks heating up. She bet money that Clavis could be able to see the glow even through his blindfold. “Clavis, you idiot…you’re the one with your back to me.”

Clavis was laughing as he turned, his hand finding Emma’s. “Now, now no need to be shy.” He said as he pulled her to her feet.

“Just for that I am not apologizing for stepping on your toes.” Emma replied.

Clavis pulled Emma close, his hand going to rest on her waist…well attempting to and brushing against her bust instead.

“Clavis…”

“Dearie me, we keep having these problems.” Clavis replied, once again not sounding at all apologetic. “I will do better, I swear. I am a gentleman.”

“Gentleman my ass.” Emma muttered, grabbing Clavis’s hand and guiding it to her waist. “And no that was not an invitation.”

Clavis chuckled as he slowly began to move them along in the dance. “Now you’ve nothing to worry about. I really am a gentleman.” He told her.”I swear my hands will not go anywhere they shouldn’t…on purpose.”

Emma laughed and rolled her eyes. “You’re terrible.”

The pair seemed to move relatively well together. There was a bit of stumbling…and Emma did step on Clavis’s toes a few times…only one time was on purpose.

“Aren’t you having fun?” Clavis asked.

“Okay, maybe this is a little fun.” Emma replied. “Though I would step on your toes less if we took these ridiculous blindfolds off.”

“You keep bringing up taking them off, do you really miss seeing my handsome face that much?”

“As if.” Emma scoffed. “I just…”

Before Emma could finish her sentence, the pair were colliding with the table and began to fall. Emma felt Clavis move his arms around her waist and shift them so that he would land on the bottom and break her fall…of course the table tumbled as well and the food and drinks all landed on Emma as she was on top.

Emma pushed herself up, her hand going to remove the blindfold as she looked down at Clavis who had let out an “Oof…” at their landing

“I was trying to avoid this,” Emma said, glaring at Clavis as he reached up to take off his blindfold. 

Clavis gave her a playful pout. “Not even asking if I’m alright and after I took the brunt of the fall.”

“A fall we wouldn’t have had if you had not done this ridiculous idea in the first place.” Emma pointed out. “And look at my dress…you deserve a bruised backside and…” Emma stopped mid rant as she became aware of the devilish grin on Clavis’s face. “What?”

“You still haven’t gotten up, which means you must enjoy being close to me like this.” Clavis replied, gesturing to her body still lying on top of his.

Emma smacked his chest. “Oh you…” She said, her cheeks red as she pushed herself up. She then sighed as she reached her hand out to Clavis. “Here, let me help you up.”

Clavis smiled. “I knew you couldn’t resist my charms.”

Emma rolled her eyes, but the look was betrayed by her smiling lips. Somehow she always managed to have fun with Clavis…but she would never admit it.

[violettduchess]

Happy 1k! 🥳 Could I request nr 9 for Clavis? (Or Napoleon)💖

A/N: It IS nearly his birthday so why not fulfil a Clavis request? Here you go @my-day6 💜 I hope you enjoy it!

Clavis x female reader

First Kiss Prompt: Heat of the Moment

WC: 1551

“Get me out of here!”

Your voice cracks at the strain of maintaining that volume. The dark, damp earth swallows the sound of your foot as you stomp it in frustration. Soon all you’re left with is a mighty glare which you lob at the pit’s edge. Above you is a perfect circle of sky, blue and bright, innocently shining, unaware of the fate that has befallen you.

You press your palms against the cool walls of the pit. They are too smooth, too well-constructed. You would never be able to grasp anything and climb your way out. Not a handhold or foothold in sight. Digging your fingers into the compact earth proves to be an unpleasant, crumbling mess of an idea which you give up immediately.

“Damn it, Clavis,” you mutter under your breath, a hand pressed against your side. The fall wasn’t too far, but it still knocked the wind out of you, surprise lending it a helping hand when it robbed you of breath. “Why?”

Of course there is no answer. Just a few fluffy white clouds that drift into view, stretching themselves lazily across the expanse of blue. With a huff, you lower yourself to the ground, crossing your arms. Your pink blouse is already streaked with earth and the fall ripped the side of your gray skirt wide open, up to the thigh. You yank the material closed as best you can, closing your eyes. Fine. You’ll wait. You’re already stuck at the bottom of one of his stupid hidden pit traps. It can’t get any worse.

The first raindrops are like small, cold kisses, harbingers of a very muddy and possibly dangerous future if you don’t get out of this pit now. You scrabble to your feet, the ground already wet enough to suck at your boots.

“HELP!”

The circle above your head is now gray and foreboding, releasing more and more gleeful raindrops who are happy to be free of their cloudy prison. They freefall towards the royal garden, bringing more and more of their friends along for the ride. Pushing wet strands of hair from your face, you are forced to shut your eyes against the onslaught of steadily falling rain and open your mouth to scream. You’re not sure if it’s a scream for help or frustration or fury but just when you’re about to let go, a voice rings out against the sound of the downpour: “Oh dear, how unfortunate.” A head of twilight hair, dark with rain, and two twinkling golden eyes peer over the pit’s edge.

“GET ME OUT OF HERE CLAVIS LELOUCH!”

He leans down, extending a hand which you grab hold of. With surprising strength, he pulls you easily from the pit and onto the soft, cold green grass of the western corner of the royal gardens. You spring to your feet, full of righteous fire, hands curled into fists as you take a step towards him. The Prince does not move. Instead he regards you, head tilted to one side, a hand raised in a gesture of peace.

“I do apologize, my dear. This trap was intended for a brother who was supposed to be collecting edible blossoms for tomorrow’s tea.”

You shake your head and then grab his hand faster than he can pull away. Fueled by anger, by the cold, damp feel of your clothing as it sticks to you, by the dull ache in your side and the feel of your broken skirt around your legs, you yank him towards the gazebo where you are sheltered from the rain and where he can’t slip away from you.

Clavis shakes his head, water droplets like tiny diamond beads in every direction. He pushes his hair back with one hand, his lips still lifted in a grin.

“Do you really want time alone with me—” His quippy remark is cut short by you clamping a hand over his mouth, eyes bright with anger.

“I was STUCK in a PIT for HOURS!”

You’re close enough to him for him to hear you loudly over the now pouring rain, to notice the rain drops sliding from his wet hair down the planes of his handsome face. Something glitters in those aurelian eyes as they regard you over your merciless hand. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, keeping your hand firmly in place.

“I could have gotten hurt in the fall! I could have drowned in there had you not come along! These pits are a HAZARD!”

How dare he refuse to look away in shame. How dare he keep his gaze on yours, his eyes holding you just as captive as that pit did. What is he thinking?

 ~ Your hand is warm against his mouth, your skin softer than silk.

How dare you smell so good, soaked in rainwater, streaked with dirt. How dare you look so beautiful, tendrils of hair framing your face like a work of art. Your clothes revealing so much and so little. Your skirt parted like the Red Sea, revealing a shapely path to what must be the Holy Land. How dare he want you? You, who is forbidden? You, bright flame that deserves so much more than him…worthless, weak little him.

And yet he can’t help what he feels. 

The thunder of his heart echoes through his veins, the feel of your fingers, the palm of your hand bewitching, conjuring a storm inside him. He is lost in the brilliance of your eyes, a universe he could spend eons exploring. Lost and never wanting a way out, ever again.

But he can’t do this. 

He can’t. 

He must keep this secret locked down in the deepest well of his heart, where the shadows lurk and darkness is a tyrant, towering over a small boy who only wants to be enough for someone. ~

He jerks his head away from your hand, blinking, his muddy boot scuffing the wooden floor of the gazebo as he steps back, away from you. The light in his eyes has dimmed.

“Ah my dear, it was only a joke. All in good fun.”

Something inside you shifts as you feel him pulling away. No. You want to see the fire in his eyes again, that glowing gold in all its intensity. 

You step towards him.

“I see you were offended by my silly trap. I’ll be more mindful of where I place them.”

No, this isn’t what you want. You don’t want him rambling on about his pranks, gaze not on you but the falling rain, his body shivering with cold, his spirit slowly folding inward, closing like a flower bud in reverse. 

No.

You take another step towards him until he bumps up against the curved railing, his hands reaching back to grip the wet, white wood.

“I do apologize for upsetting you, dearie. I— W-What are you...?”

Your body is crackling with frustration. He needs to STOP TALKING about the damn trap. You’re still angry at him for digging it but you’re also angry at the way he is retreating further and further behind that façade of his, that wall of quips and polite distance and controlled flame. You’re practically trembling with the desire to.....

You grab him, fistfuls of his wet coat, and pull him to you, capturing his mouth with yours. He gasps audibly, body going rigid with shock. You will not relent. You want that wall between you gone. So you tear it down with your lips, pressing kiss after kiss against his mouth. You tear it down with your left hand, still curled into the heavy material of his lavender jacket like an iron fist. You tear it down with your right hand, the one that has traveled up to his neck and is holding him there, warm palm against slick, cold skin. You tear it down with your leg, exposed and pressed tightly against his.

Kiss by kiss, touch by touch, you besiege him, vanquishing the cold with the heat of your body, crumbling his hesitation with the strength of your will. What man stands a chance against a perfect storm like this?

You feel when you have triumphed. He snaps as if struck by lightning and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against the long, lean lines of his body, tipping you back so you’re at a better angle for him to taste. You wrap one arm around his neck, holding on as he comes to life, his mouth moving over yours, deepening the kisses, sending your senses reeling. One hand supports your lower back, the other drops to the skin of your thigh and tiny tornados of electricity dance across your skin.

Was this what was hiding behind those quick smiles? Those flashing golden eyes?

You kiss him as the world around you rages, wind and water roaring through the royal gardens, But desire, which has been biding its time, smoldering patiently, now breathes fire into your lungs, blazes white-hot through your veins.

As you both sink to your knees, still wrapped in each other’s arms, as he tears his mouth from yours to hungrily ravish the soft skin of your neck, you don’t wonder what will happen when the storm fades.

Because you know that this? 

This is just the beginning.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @queen-dahlia @aceuuuuu @scorchieart @bubblexly

[ikehoe]

Play with me [Clavis Lelouch x Reader][Smut]

Characters ↬ Clavis Lelouch x Reader 

Rating ↬ Explicit [Smut – mdni]

Tags ↬ Smut, just pure Smut 

Warning ↬ Thigh-riding, Fingering   

A/N ↬ In celebration of Clavis’ English Route release, here’s some straight filth for ya’ll.  

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

Wordcount ↬ 1.5k 

Tag List ↬ @and-then-she-died-tm @kpop-and-otome @curious-skybunny @lordsister @aquagirl1978 @kleeps @ikesimp100 @chaosangel767 @rhodolitesroseforclavis @themysticalbeing @violettduchess @atelieredux @dazais-baby @devildomwritersposts @otomegameinlove @randonauticrap @queengiuliettafirstlady

Please fill out this form if you'd like to be included on my tag list. 

The tips of your fingers flittered across the aged parchment as you continued reading, utterly captivated by the book lying before you. A small gasp escaped from your lips as the heroine of the story narrowly avoided death at the very last moment, managing to swing herself up from the jagged cliff with the help of the wild male lead. That’s why, to Clavis’ sheer delight, you didn’t notice when he made his way over to you in the middle of the library, steps light as a feather so as not to draw any attention to himself. Of course, it helped that he had a light tread in the first place, having been so used to sneaking up on innocent residents of the mansion for the sake of his tricks for years. With bated breath, he slowly inched closer and closer to you until his lips were mere millimeters from your ear.

“What’cha reading, Belle?” He murmured, his hot breath ghosting the shell of your ear and causing you to leap nearly three feet in the air. 

“What th--, my God, Clavis! You nearly scared the living daylights out of me,” your eyes were aflame with fury as you glared at the third Prince of Rhodolite, trying your hardest not to let his dashingly handsome looks get the best of you like usual. It was hard. More than hard. His eyes were like pure liquid gold, and that devastating smirk that so often adorned his face captivated you. What made it worse was he knew it. He knew the effect he had on people, especially you. 

How would you describe your relationship with the hellcat of Rhodolite? Well, since you’d arrived at the palace, the Prince seemed to take a strong liking to you, going out of his way to irritate you, pull some (mostly) harmless pranks on you, and order you around like you were his own personal maid. You’d spend the first couple weeks refusing him with the resolve of a stubborn bull, but gradually he’d worn you down. The way his gaze would turn so forlorn when he admitted a deep-seated secret, how lonely he was that none of his other brothers seemed to enjoy his company, how he was secretly terrified that nobody truly liked him. You were almost sure it was all an act, but that almost was how he roped you into being his unwilling partner. In fact, that’s how he ended up inviting you to bed and having you accept a mere week ago. The memory of it still ran through your mind at all waking hours of the day. Despite your attempts at avoiding having to talk about what happened, it seemed like you couldn’t avoid him forever. 

He gazed upon you with feigned indignation and gasped, dramatically clutching at his chest. “Me? Scare you? I would never dare to. I merely wanted to spend some time with you, especially since you’ve been so busy lately.” Something in his eyes shifted as his gaze dragged up and down your body, lingering at the bare skin visible above your neckline. His soft lips quirked downwards as he disappointingly searched for the faded mark he’d sucked deep into your skin only a week prior. It was like his eyes were boring holes into your body, and you felt your face heat up with embarrassment. 

“What are you looking at?” You asked, hands flying up to cover the slight swell of your breasts resulting from the tightness of your corset. Then, all at once, the memory of his lips, suckling pretty rose-toned bruises into your skin, rushed through you once more. The way he caressed your skin so gently, so carefully as though he might break you apart, so unlike how you thought he’d be. 

When you came to, it seemed like the third Prince knew what you were thinking about, too, as his signature smirk reappeared on his lips. In one swift movement, he pulled you up from your chair, spinning you around so quickly that when you finally landed on his lap, sitting sideways against his muscular thighs, you had absolutely no idea what had happened. You let out a shriek of surprise and grasped at the nearest available thing, Clavis’ gloved hand. 

“A little eager, are we?” He chuckled darkly as he brought your hand to his lips, gently pressing kisses along each of the digits and swirling his tongue around your fingertips. “How is it that you still taste so sweet, even when you’ve been poring over those books?” The sensation of his tongue had you praying that he would lavish you with the same attention elsewhere, and before you could stop it, a soft moan slipped from your lips. You felt his mouth form into a smirk against your hand, and he let your hand slip from his as he nuzzled his nose into your neck, inhaling deeply as he began to unlace your corset. 

“Play with me a little, hm? I’ll be worth your time,” he whispered, trailing his lips from your bare shoulder to the now-exposed swell of your breasts, nipping gently at your skin in his wake. Your hand grasped desperately at Clavis’ arm as he trailed his tongue down your chest, lavishing the taste of your peaks against his mouth. It was heaven for him, being so close to you like this. This was what he wanted since he first laid eyes on you in the town square, skin glistening and eyes sparkling with determination as you protected that boy from the drunkard. It was captivating, and he found himself captivated by you, again and again, each day. 

Your hips began wriggling desperately against his muscular thigh, every part of your body seeking the friction that would satisfy that deep ache in your core, the one that you couldn’t fix yourself ever since you crossed that line in your friendship. A deep groan rumbled from his throat when he noticed your fervent rutting and ripped off his gloves, eager to feel the wetness against his fingers. As his hands made their way underneath your ruffled skirt, his eyes widened momentarily, realizing that you weren’t wearing anything underneath your dress. 

“Naughty, naughty girl,” he murmured, trailing one finger along your core, mouth practically watering at the pool of slick that had gathered along his hands with just one touch. “So wet and eager for me, hm?”

Your face had turned a deep shade of crimson at his lustful words, and as much as you wanted to deny it, he was right. There was a part of you that was waiting for him to find you, to show you that it wasn’t just a one-time thing. But hell would freeze over before you gave in that easily. “N—no, I just… I forgot…” You trailed off, hiding your face in the crook of his shoulder. 

Even that made you all the more endearing to Clavis, and he once again trailed his finger along the seam of your wet core, smirking as you trembled against his body. “Girls that lie don’t get rewarded, Belle,” he whispered, tongue trailing against the shell of your earlobe as you jolted once more against him. Again, the way his fingers would ghost over that spot you needed him most, missing deliberately, once, twice, and on the third pass, you gave in.

“Please, Clavis, i—it wasn’t an accident. I need you,” you begged, eyes widening in shock as his free hand gripped your chin firmly and turned your face towards him, those beautiful golden eyes gazing into the most vulnerable parts of you as he held your gaze with such intensity you thanked the heavens that you were already sitting, as your knees immediately turned weak. 

And there was no way he could deny you when you were begging so sweetly, not when your desire was covering the fabric of his pants and your eyes were so hazy with desire he could reach his own climax from the sight alone. “Good girl,” he murmured, slipping one finger into your needy cunt with ease and capturing your lips into a messy, wet kiss as he swallowed your moans. His fingers thrust against your core, coaxing relentless noises out of you that you were sure to regret when you came back to your senses. Your body was overheating, and that familiar, fluttery sensation deep within your belly was starting to roar to life once more. 

And with a sudden shift of his fingers, he found that spot deep within your core, that spot that had you crying out in ecstasy against him, rutting against his fingers again and again until your slick had thoroughly soaked through any remaining layers between the two of you. His hand gently cradled your head, pressing kisses against your lips and caressing your hair until you came down from your high. 

Once your vision refocused, you shifted and looked down at the stain you’d left on his pants, absolutely mortified with what you’d caused. You were sure the Prince was never going to let you live it down – likely making you act as his personal maid for three weeks at least. “I—I’m so sorry, Clavis, I’ll wash those for you right away,” you stammered, about to get up from your spot on his lap when he forcefully grabbed your waist, pulling you close to him once more and whispering something that would seal your fate for the rest of the night. 

“And where do you think you’re going, Belle? I didn’t say I was done playing with you.” 

[syneilesis]

[fic] Where Does Such Tenderness Come From

Where Does Such Tenderness Come From

Ikemen Prince | Clavis Lelouch x f!Reader | G | 6.7k words ao3 link

In another universe, you were Belle, and you fell in love with a prince. And nothing came of it.

A/N: For @violettduchess's One Suitor, One Prompt event! This is a canon alternate universe where Emma had never been Belle and it's reader-chan who became one. It's understandably canon divergence, and everything is slightly nicer in this AU.

I did not expect this fic to be long! It's my first time writing him as the central character in a serious (?) fic, so I don't know if I got him right (it's AU anyway >.>). I've proofread this twice, so any mistakes and inconsistencies that survived is still my fault lol.

Title is from a Marina Tsvetaeva poem. Hope you enjoy! :)

prologue 

Sariel observes you as you lay out your arguments for your choice as the next king. He makes no reaction to anything you say—a veritable politician in your eyes. When you finish, he hums, and nods to himself, a small smile creeping in.

“Excellent,” he says, “I knew that I did not make a mistake in choosing you as Belle.”

“I did my best,” you demur.

Outside the chamber, the halls are empty except next to the door, where Prince Chevalier is leaning against the wall, head in repose. He opens his eyes upon your appearance, his gaze cutting in its severity.

He says: “It is done.”

“Yes. I suppose congratulations are in order.”

“Hmph.” He moves to enter the chamber—most likely to speak with Sariel—but as he passes you, he adds: “Do not forget that you’re indebted to me. I will collect it soon.”

A smile finds its way to your face, the muscles of your cheeks heavy with amusement and apprehension in equal measure. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

The title is ignored and he strides away, leaving you alone in the hallway, leading to where your old life awaits you.

You take the first step, then another—and another—and another. To your right, the tall windows glow with the morning shimmer of the palace gardens. And then you think to yourself, you’re going to miss the palace, Sariel, and even the princes. Especially—

No. That’s a dangerous thought. You suppose it’s all for the best. It’s impossible from the beginning anyway.

1.

King Chevalier tells him one day: “A newly formed group of merchants near the Rhodolite-Benitoite border has been engaging in potentially treasonous activities. Investigate it.”

Words of challenge sear his tongue, but Clavis swallows them down like all other instances in the past, opting to plaster an obnoxious grin on his face, teeth almost grinding against each other.

“Oh? And where did you get that information? Surely that little intelligence should have gone over to me before it could reach you. Your dear little fool of a brother no longer trustworthy? How shocking.” The last two sentences are punctuated with the unpleasant grit of sarcasm, but Clavis makes sure that his sentiment is known.

Of course, Chevalier swats the jab away. “Don’t be absurd. Why do you think I’m sending you there?”

There’s an abrupt collapse of everything Clavis has put up in front of his elder brother, and for the first few seconds he just stands there, staring. Chevalier rolls his eyes as if the exchange pains him, as if Clavis is slow on the uptake, which starts him up again, filing this detail for later inspection. For now there are much more pressing matters.

“When will you send me away?” When Chevalier levels him a look due to his wording, Clavis just shrugs, the twitch on the corners of his lips noticeable.

“Tonight.”

“Eager to get rid of me?” Clavis laughs. Then he says, “Of course, of course, as you wish, Your Grumpy Majesty.”

He leaves the office without a glance behind, tamping down the desire for another bout of petty comeback.

◈

Towns situated near kingdom borders always adopt a mixture of its local culture and its neighboring one. The one Clavis visits, while still filled with gardens of the nation’s trademark roses, has the colors and splendor of Benitoite. Because it's the kingdom known for its trade and soft power, budding merchants gather in towns like these to try their luck at trade, and the goods they acquire become part of the local scene. Clavis reminds himself to peruse the current supply of medical ingredients later.

A few minutes’ walk outside the town lies a mansion, considered as one of the sites for social gathering and negotiation of goods. Years ago, a wealthy merchant retired to the then-abandoned mansion and opened its doors for anything market-related. Since then, it has also been used as temporary residence for traveling merchants and trade diplomats.

Clavis is dressed more modestly than usual, but continues to be recognizable to those who know of him. Cyran trails after him at a distance, slower in pace and more alert in observation. Today is reconnaissance—the need for action remains to be seen, but Clavis insists on bringing his sword as both precaution and identification.

As the mansion entrance becomes sharper with proximity, the doors burst open and out comes the person Clavis least expects to see here and now and in the foreseeable future.

You freeze mid-step, eyes bulging in shock at seeing Clavis. Needless to say, the feeling is mutual.

“You—” a storm passes your face, before you remember who you’re talking to “—r Highness.”

It takes him longer to say something, but the glee that lights up inside him makes up for it. “Dear dear dear oh dear, what have we here?”

Underneath the glee: something tender, a twist in his chest that refuses to leave, however dull, beating in sync with his heart.

interlude

Just a few more days left before you decide on a new king. You had a vague idea of who you'd pick; you just needed a last-minute interaction to cement your decision. This was one of the things that you took pride in. At first, hearing Sariel's pronouncement that you'd become the next Belle had been such a surreal experience that you weren't sure if you were just being pranked by your mischievous neighbors. But now, with your notes and your newfound knowledge and the friendships that you'd made during your time in the palace, you're certain that you were going to finish your tenure with ironclad conviction.

You entered your room, humming to yourself. And that humming escalated into a shriek when you found Clavis perched on your bed, his troublemaker smile present.

“Good evening, my lovely partner-in-crime.”

“Not a good evening—you almost gave me a heart attack!”

Clavis laughed—that eventually petered off to nothing. You sensed the shift in mood, and you followed, closing the distance and sitting next to him.

“Did something happen?”

An upward tug of his lips. “What did you think happened?”

“I don't know—you tell me.”

“Oh, my dear partner-in-crime,” he said, singsong, “is that worry I hear in your tone?”

Normally you'd deny it. Perhaps it's because of the approaching day of your decision—it made you feel sentimental and a little more honest—that you told him, “Yeah—actually, yes. I am worried.”

It was worth it for his surprised blink.

You grabbed the opportunity to tease. “What—you're gonna miss me after all this?”

He didn't answer right away, his wide-eyed expression prolonged in the pulsing quietness of the room. Then he recovered, and said with frankness, “You know it, don't you.”

“I'm sorry?”

He shuffled, the rustle of the blankets loud, until his body faced towards you completely. “There's something between us, you can feel it. I can certainly feel it. So why not act on it?” He leaned forward, closer; his scent strong from this lack of distance, and you could almost feel the puffs of his breath.

The sharpness of your inhale sliced through the ensuing silence.

He wasn’t wrong. The burgeoning feelings you harbored for him surfaced in your awareness on the day of your accidental kiss. Try as you might to crumple it into a ball and tuck it away behind you—out of sight, out of mind—things didn’t always end up how you planned for. Love was a tricky thing to maneuver, and it wasn't for long that you gave up denying it—at least to yourself—and cradled it to your bosom, regardless of whether he knew or not.

But accepting the feelings for yourself was vastly different from acting upon it and accepting the consequences.

And that was what you weren't ready to accept.

“Let's say you're right,” you began, slowly and carefully, “what then? What would happen if we acted on it?”

“Then we get what we both want.”

The inside of your mouth tasted bitter.

“What do we want?”

And in the space that followed, there was only the echoes of breath—and the glassy, shuttered countenance of a prince who was unable to answer a simple question.

“Oh, Clavis,” you whispered, leaning away. “I'm sorry, but I think it's better for us if we pretend this never happened.”

You expected a protest, a challenge, a sly taunt that would turn your decision around. But there was only a wistful gaze; lips parted halfway, an aborted response.

Only silence.

And that—that was something you were willing to accept.

2.

“Isn’t there something in the contract that says once I’m done with being Belle, I’d never see all of you again?”

You’re looking at Cyran but the question is aimed at him. You’re probably rigidly following the clauses of the Belle contract like an unquestioning soldier, but the desire to cup your face and turn it to his direction bubbles up inside Clavis.

He immediately stomps that part of him. You’ve made your thoughts clear to him before you went home, and a gentleman respects a lady’s wishes, no matter his personal feelings. But here, right now, the way the surroundings frame your form, the bag of tools hanging over your arm, a roll of fabric on the other …

It’s—well.

Beside him Cyran shifts, obviously uncomfortable despite trying to hide it.

“You know, my lady,” he starts. Glances surreptitiously at Clavis. “Did you know that the pri—”

Clavis cuts him off. “Clause 99 only applies to the chosen king. And you chose my dear, beloved older brother for that.” He feels his mouth stretch into a strange smile. “Having second thoughts?”

Finally, your gaze snaps to him. It tastes like victory.

“Of course not!” you say, tightening your hold on your things. “I’m proud of my choice and I don’t regret it. I trust King Chevalier to bring prosperity and security to our kingdom.”

And that victory decays into something ugly, spoiling his expression—the twitch of his cheek, the dip of his eyebrows. You must’ve noticed it, because something flashed in your own expression, like a trap activating. It calcifies your posture into stone.

Cyran feels the shift in the air, and he frantically salvages the mood. “In any case, Prince Clavis is here for a reason, but we didn’t expect you to be here as well. What are you doing here, my lady?”

And in a blink the caution is gone. Your face smoothens into that familiar, friendly shine. Clavis swallows the sourness that has pooled inside his mouth.

“Me?” you say, genuinely confused. “I’m here for work.”

There’s a prolonged silence after, in which Clavis and Cyran feel compelled to look at each other in surprise. But an idea sprouts inside Clavis’s scheming head, and the smile he adorns this time is wild and delighted. It doesn’t escape your notice, because you take a step back out of suspicion, having known him long enough to recognize the signs.

“No,” you say, unprompted. “No. No.”

“What are you talking about?” Clavis says, cheerful. “I didn’t ask anything.”

“I know that look. And my answer is no.”

He takes a step forward. “Even if I asked nicely?”

You take another step back. “No.”

Another step forward. “Even if I beg?”

The step falters. Clavis narrows his eyes like a predator gaining on prey. Almost there. “C-Clavis, no …”

Clavis. Another push. “Even if I tell you that the fate of Rhodolite rests upon this assignment, and that I need you for it?”

A complicated look descends on your face, and Clavis forgets to breathe, waiting for your response. He clocks in the moment you give in, and his hand twitches to touch your lips, tracing the shape of your words.

“All right … All right. What do I need to do?”

He doesn’t raise his hand, doesn’t touch you, your lips, but it overwhelms him like floodwater.

interlude

The books that Emma sent you were heavy on your arms, but you strived to carry them all the way to the library. This was important—a gamble, yes, but crucial to your bet with Nokto. The prince's cooperation was the key, and you're determined to win.

Suddenly, the books became lighter.

“How is my lovely partner-in-crime doing on this lovely day?”

“I am not your partner-in-crime,” you said. Clavis hovered, half of the books appearing on his arms. They seemed as light as feathers when he carried them.

“Oh?” he said in that way of his—a crescendo, like it was a challenge. “The way you hung over me last night, ardently pouring Sariel's liquor at the pond says otherwise.”

“I needed to get my message across to Sariel. Else he'd subject me to suffering again.”

Clavis laughed, as if your suffering was amusing. Then he studied the book cover. “Donating some books?”

“Not exactly,” you said, almost absent-minded. “I'm going to give it to Prince Chevalier. He mentioned before that he was interested in reading some foreign books on political economy, so I pulled some strings to acquire these. I don't know how he'd manage to read them if he wasn't fluent in—”

You stopped. The second set of footsteps were absent.

Several paces behind stood Clavis, unmoving, just watching you with an unreadable glint in his eyes.

“Prince Clavis?”

He tilted his head, his brows in knots. The line of his mouth pulled down in an angry moue.

“You're doing this for my brother?”

“Um, yes?”

He frowned as if he couldn't understand. “Why?”

“Um, because?” It wasn't like you could tell him of your bet with Nokto; that would invite rumors, unpleasant ones, and Clavis was already a troublemaker enough on his own. You didn't want to fend off another set of stressors. You'd just gotten the hang of entertaining this particular prince.

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Then—you weren't sure—you heard a click of his tongue before Clavis was back to his usual troublemaking self. But somehow, his smirk seemed to curve askew.

“Well, then!” he said, loud and cheerful. “Let's visit my very intelligent brother together, shall we?”

3.

The merchants buy their story: the palace commissioned you to make uniforms a month before Rhodolite declared her new king. Palace Minister Sariel was so impressed by your work that some princes had noticed—one of whom was Prince Clavis, who consequently requested you to design him a coat.

“It’s displayed in my room, at a corner where I can easily see it and admire its details,” Clavis says with a fond smile, while you gawk at him like he’s weird. The important thing is that the merchants are lapping it up, eyes sparkling with the revelation that their decision to hire you was right, and the opportunity to sidle closer to a prince who’s directly connected to the king. This allows you to stay a few days longer in the town, work longer in the mansion with him as your current client—and that affords you to become his eyes and ears at the places he and Cyran can’t reach.

“I feel underqualified for this,” you tell him later, after the introductions and the meeting that proceeded next.

“Nonsense! You were splendid when you were Belle,” Clavis assures, and that may be a genuine sentiment, but the way it’s conveyed has you glaring at him. “Even now I am grateful that you thoughtfully offered yourself to personally deliver my gift to Chev.”

As expected: you pale at the memory. “I didn’t know you were trying to poison him! I didn’t know you suck at cooking! You weren’t there when I opened the cover and he saw what’s inside! I did not sleep for days!”

Clavis sniffs, and then brings a hand up to wipe away an imaginary tear. “So, so thoughtful.”

And then you pause in reminiscence. Whatever you remember, it has you dedicating your whole attention to him, and Clavis preens under it.

“You know, now that I think about it …” you begin, and the knowing tone you adopt warns Clavis into caution. “Prince Chevalier did eat your cooking …”

Clavis stumbles. “What?”

He must’ve heard wrong. Or you’re pulling his leg. There’s no way Chevalier would indulge him this way—crossing swords, yes, but others? That brother of his would rather march alone into a battlefield to face an army than cater to someone—anyone, at all.

“He took a bite of your dish, scowled, and tried to murder me with his eyes.”

But he doesn’t hear your words; he’s still arrested by the news that Chevalier did, indeed, eat his cooking. And you catch him frozen in shock, because your demeanor melts into something softer.

“Your Highness,” you say, “let’s prepare for step one of our plan, yes?”

Clavis knows what you’re doing, but right now, he has no other choice but to accept your offer of reprieve, so he says, “You’re very diligent for someone who complained earlier, aren’t you?”

You only smile in response.

interlude

Going to his room was always an exercise in courage; going inside, however, stupidity. But Clavis had overtaken you on the way to the library and handed you a tray of food, said, Breakfast for our dear Chevalier; he wanted to eat and our people are too busy to deliver the meal to him. Why don't you do the honor of bringing it to his room?

And now you're in front of his bedroom door, trembling hand poised to knock when it opened on its own and out came the man himself.

“Good morning, Your Highness.”

Chevalier took one look at the tray you're holding and your nervous smile and he sighed, as if expecting something like this to happen. But he didn't say anything; just stepped to the side and—surprise, surprise!—let you in.

“Thank you so much.”

You placed the tray on a clean table and waited for him to sit. The silver cover reflected his skeptical face and you began to explain, partly to appease him, partly to fill the tense silence in the room.

“Right. I was told that you asked for breakfast and there was no one available to bring it to you, so Prince Clavis—”

“Hah.”

“—Prince Clavis asked me to do it. And here you are, Your Highness.” You reached for the handle to remove the cover. “Your breakfast. Please enjoy.”

The tense silence graduated into frigid after the reveal, and you squirmed at his icy expression. When you followed his gaze, you blanched.

“Oh my god.”

You should have known. You should have known. The fact that it was Clavis who asked you for that favor should have clued you in, but his smile was pretty at the time, especially when the sunlight that sneaked through the window hit his face in a way that highlighted his amused eyes.

“I'm so sorry,” you stammered, trying to salvage the situation. Chevalier was watching you now with murder in his eyes, and you almost dropped the metal cover. “I-I'll return this right away—pleasedon'tkillme.”

Your limbs locked when you heard him sigh, and a gloved hand reached for the spoon and in your head you chanted no no no but only watched, morbidly fascinated, when Chevalier took a spoonful and brought the abomination to his mouth.

Your jaw dropped.

As he chewed, Chevalier locked eyes with you—a taunt, a warning, a threat—and you gulped and tried your best to be one with the floor.

He swallowed the objectionable thing, which made him even more invincible in your eyes, and took the cover from you. Without breaking eye contact, he set the cover back on the plate and said, “Get out.”

You'd never followed an order so willingly in your life. “Yessir!”

4.

In the mansion’s backyard, there’s a large fountain that stopped working months ago. It’s huge enough that a couple of people can take a soak. While the mechanism for the pump is no longer usable, the caretaker still fills the reservoir with water, and during the afternoons when the sun is high up, the water sparkles gold, a cluster of shiny waves that steals the attention.

On the third day of his stay in the mansion, Clavis meets you by the fountain for a report. It’s a few hours before noon, clouds aloft beneath the vivid blue sky.

“Any progress?”

Your brows knit in thought. “I think so. I don’t know if this is helpful or just a false lead …”

“Let’s hear it anyway.”

As you relay your findings, Clavis glances back at the mansion. Even from where he stands, he can see a couple of silhouettes behind the second-storey windows. Merchants who still doubt his intentions, perhaps; who want to watch his every move.

Suddenly, a plan develops in his mind.

He takes a step forward. Another. And another. Until the tips of his shoes touch yours. You're watching him move closer and closer, this time not retreating, which gives him hope. He dips his head next to your ear, mindful of the witnesses inside the mansion, and whispers:

“Do you want to play a game?”

“No,” you whisper back, but the fraction-tilt of your head intimates that you understand his intention. In the corner of his vision, he sees you dart your gaze at the building. You're too quick for your own good.

“That's too bad; it's going to be a fun game.”

“Not when you're too close to me.”

Clavis immediately steps backward. Grins at you, while you only continue to observe him warily.

“You didn't have to move close.”

“But isn't that part of the fun? And besides, we are already playing the game right now.”

“Then why ask me if I wanted to play?”

“I always ask first, you know.”

“Not always.”

“Those that count, then.”

“Fine, I'll play the game,” you say, fixing your posture as if bracing yourself. As if Clavis is an opponent you're determined to win against—which is kind of cute. “Cyran did say something like pretending as part of the plan …”

“Cyran told you that?” He feels an eyebrow twitch. “Well, now, isn’t that unfair.”

“I already said I'll play. I'll do it, come on. I'm ready. I know they're watching right now. Give me your best shot.”

And Clavis laughs. The entire conversation, he didn't miss the fleeting way your gaze drops to his lips, as if remembering a memory that still lays vivid in his mind. It's almost a confirmation, but Clavis knows where you both stand with each other—except despite his want to stay behind the line that you drew for each other, the desire to cross that threshold lingers like an insistent tug.

He steps forward again. And again. And again until again the warmth of your body mingles with his own. His fingers hover on your temple, brush against a stray lock of your hair, insert it behind your ear. His eyes track yours, how they go from point to another point of his face—eyes to nose to cheeks to beauty mark to, finally, lips.

“I'm a gentleman,” he begins, and your gaze snaps back to his, “so I have to ask again: are you playing this game with me?”

It stretches—your gazes at each other. It stretches and lingers and sighs at the stillness of the moment. You swallow, a short-lived dilemma, and then nod, a small one that Clavis catches nonetheless.

“Then—” He angles his head in the most optimal way that their spectators in the mansion could see and brings his lips to yours.

It's just a press, soft and light—definitely longer than the first time your mouths brushed, once upon a time. His half-mast eyes drawing closed, missing the way yours flutter before shutting tight. But the way you press back is apparent, and Clavis knows, down to the marrow of his bones, that you want this too. That you've always wanted this—whatever this is between you. It doesn't matter how vehement and how often your denial is of your feelings; you always look back when you walk away.

He doesn't pry open your lips (that's for another time), but he does sigh at the feeling, the warm pressure that comes from your body almost touching his, the way your hands slowly and hesitantly come up to his chest and clutch at his lapels. His own hand tightens on the back of your head, the other settles on your waist.

It feels like a lifetime—an infinite thread between then and now—before you part, hands still clinging to where they are. You look at Clavis and a sigh escapes you; the nerves on his hands alight with something that could alter the rest of your stay.

“Clavis—”

He lets go of you and retreats, zooming onto the windows of the mansion. Figureless glass, closed curtains. They've seen what he wants them to see. It's up to Cyran to fan those flames further.

“They fell for it,” he says. When he returns to you, you're looking at him with a peculiar expression, and Clavis wants to kiss you again.

He doesn't. Instead he claps his hands, smirks, and says, “Now, we'll move on to the best part of the plan.”

interlude

It happened so quickly you wondered whether it happened at all.

You and Yves were in a heated discussion about pastries, with you extolling the sublime virtues of pouring chocolate over croissants and Yves arguing for more adventurous baking recipes, such as tea-flavored cake. You were both so involved in the conversation that you missed the very obvious pitfall trap in your path.

“And one other thing about this cake—”

Yves never got to make his point because his next step landed on nothing but air.

His scream pulled you back into alertness, and you would've fallen too, had it not been for a hand that grabbed your wrist and tugged you out of the way.

“What—” Your body was dragged into another body, and you whirled around—and your lips touched something like another set of lips—

—before you jerked yourself away, searching for the source.

Clavis stood in front of you, slightly in a daze.

But just as you were to call his name, Yves's voice startled you out of your next move.

“Prince Yves! Hang on, I'll get you out of there!”

When you turned back, Clavis was gone. It was an odd thing; you knew that he'd brag about his trap and laugh at your gullibility, but he prevented you from falling and in that sequence of events you accidentally kissed him.

It was so quick that you might have just imagined it. His reaction, however, was anything but.

5.

Turns out, Chevalier is right: half of the merchants who've gathered in the mansion throbbed with the desire to stage a rebellion. They'd been committed in recruiting people to their cause, convincing them that royalty should no longer hold the power and instead it's the merchants who should. In their hubris, they'd approached Clavis with the intention to pull him into their side, after seeing him kiss you by the fountain. With that image alone the merchants had concocted to themselves the elaborate story of a royal and a commoner falling in love and being unable to stay together because of the differences in status. They'd talked to Clavis, asked about you and his sentiments, complimented his affections, sweet-talked their way into his good graces—At this current state, it is an act looked down upon for a prince to marry a commoner girl, and we sympathize, we really do, so we wanted to change the tradition, we're in talks with Benitoite and Obsidian right now and—and thought to themselves that they'd truly caught a big fish in him.

When Chevalier strides into the path that leads to the mansion, a number of soldiers marching behind him, it's you who notices first. That dampens Clavis's mood somewhat, but he has momentarily forgotten that someone with a great sense of responsibility like you would not greet the king; rather, you retreat further into the mansion, backing yourself into an empty room on the third floor, waiting until the king finishes his business.

“Clause 99 is a downer, huh.” Clavis leans against the doorframe, watching you organize your luggage.

You don't glance at him when you answer, so you have no idea of the expressions that flit through Clavis's face as you speak. “I suppose. The king has become a good friend during the time I was Belle, and now I can no longer meet him again—it's sad.”

“Friend?” The word and its association with his brother sound like a ridiculous combination. “You're friends with Chevalier?”

You jerk and look up at him, surprised. “Yes? I'd like to think that we get along. Is that so hard to believe?”

“You're not ... in love with him?” Sometimes, he’s led to believe that he’s in a scandalous love triangle—your heart torn between a callous beast and a dashing, charismatic villain. It’s the kind of love story that will stir Rhodolitians for years.

You look indignant even at the suggestion. “Of course not! Where in the world did you get that idea?!”

“You were very close with him during that one month, you can't blame anyone for thinking that you two are involved.”

“I don't like him that way! God. I just supply him foreign books every now and then. I know somebody who works at a bookstore and who could get almost any kind of book.”

This is turning out to be a lovely story. “So you were bribing him.”

The look you give him is baleful. “Not bribe—just encouragement.”

He can't help it—Clavis laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs until you throw a sock at him. He catches it easily, and he laughs again.

“That's so cute,” he says, wiping tears off his eyes, “dear Chev getting bribes! Books! Of course.”

From where you sit, you grumble.

There's a lull in the moment where you study him, something bright in your eyes that compels him to repeat the words he said to you months ago, in that palace room that once housed you, your scattered notes and your cloths and your sewing tools spread across the bed. The words that slice him open and uproot the foundations of his self. In this lull of a moment, with your clear gaze and your soft expression, Clavis finds his courage once again, and he opens his mouth to say—

“Your Highness, the king has called for your presence.”

The moment passes.

Clavis swallows the words and directs his attention to Cyran, who’s boggled at the thick, tense air in the room. He decides to concentrate on Clavis, who is struck with the longing to send Cyran on a wild goose chase. But he doesn't give in to the urge.

“Goodness, the king doesn't like to wait, does he?” he says amicably, smiling at Cyran, who continues to grow confused. Clavis doesn't move from his place. “It's almost as if he wants to separate me and Belle like a villain in a tragic novel. I should be the villain, you know.”

“Prince Clavis?”

Clavis sighs theatrically.

Then your voice, quiet and decisive—and Clavis has a feeling about the words that will come out from your lips.

“Clavis. You should go.”

He stares at you, all dramatics gone.

“Should I?”

Your luggage has already been organized since a few minutes ago, but you pretend to arrange it still, just to have your hands occupied with something.

“Yes,” you say to your clothes, and it's silent after that. Once or twice: the sound of Cyran's boots tapping.

“Then this is goodbye.”

“Yes.”

One more time. One more time. He waits.

Nothing.

He's not surprised, but it's disappointing all the same.

“Goodbye, then.”

“Yes. Goodbye.”

He leaves the mansion without looking back.

◈

Chevalier orders Clavis to ride the carriage with him and give his report during the journey back to the palace. He follows with a fanfare that he's sure Chevalier will find annoying, but will just grit his teeth and bear the noise. Clavis injects all the ludicrous embellishments he can insert because he can, and because he knows Chevalier's already informed of the details, regardless of whether Clavis tells him the truth or not.

He tries a different tack.

“I do wonder how our former Belle found herself working in that mansion, though.” He observes his brother for any infinitesimal reaction, and all he gets is a set of closed eyes opening, an unimpressed glare beneath those eyelids.

Clavis has a feeling that Chevalier was involved in that little surprise, but he doesn't know how and why.

“The little cub has a debt, and she has finally paid her dues.”

His hands curl into fists. And he stomps the treasonous desire to unsheathe his sword and point it at the king.

“And what debt is that?”

“None of your concern,” Chevalier replies breezily, unperturbed about the growing animosity that crackles in the air.

“Really, dear brother? How cruel of you.” He lets out a frustrated exhale. “That's nothing new, though.”

Chevalier only snorts at that and nothing else.

When they reach the palace, the soldiers line up to greet the arrival of the king, and Clavis spies Sariel emerge from the main doors, his tongue clicking in reflex. Chevalier doesn't wait for Clavis and goes straight to the palace minister presumably to talk about the recent arrests. He's about to sneak out when Sariel's greeting catches him.

“Welcome back, hellcat,” Sariel says, his tone ambiguous enough to interpret his words as disappointed.

Clavis gives him his most infuriating grin. “Missed me?”

“We'll continue this at my office,” Chevalier cuts in, already heading inside, his cloak whipping in time with his movement.

“Well?” Clavis says later, when he and Chevalier are back in the office, with the familiar documents and books and pens. The smell of ink and paper permeate the whole room. 

Chevalier doesn't let him breathe before saying, “I'm assigning you to root out any potential rebels here.” He points to the capital city on the map.

Clavis almost throws the documents he's holding in Chevalier's direction.

“Care to elaborate?”

Behind the king, sunlight filters through the windows. It's late afternoon, so the shade of light has warmer and richer hues that paint Chevalier's silhouette into something more welcoming. Kinder.

Clavis almost gags.

“Merchants are not the only ones to harbor such thoughts about royalty. We constantly monitor the activities of nobles, but hidden among the common people are spies that could spread provocative notions. Just because we're stable at present does not mean that Obsidian will let things as they are.”

A point that he grudgingly accepts, but the question still remains:

“Is this my punishment for all the times I put spikes on your bed?” To have such an elementary mission—it feels like Chevalier's insulting him. And doing a great job at it.

“Fool of a brother,” Chevalier says, and presses his cheek against his waiting hand. His look can be interpreted as fondly exasperated. “What does it mean to spend more time in the city? I will not spell it out for you.”

It takes Clavis exactly twenty seconds for the implications to set in, and he shoots a disbelieving glare at Chevalier, who's back to his documents and is no longer acknowledging his existence.

So he tells him, “I hate how I'm beginning to understand you.”

“Thank the little cub for that.”

epilogue

In between commissions, you take a walk at the square, strolling around and admiring the always-lively people of Rhodolite. Times like this you miss Emma—the person you owe the most in your life. She's happily married to someone from Benitoite, and based on the letters she's sent you, she's having the time of her life there. When you're not too busy at work, one of her letters says, come visit me here! I miss you!

You try hard at planning for an extended trip, and Emma has promised to have all expenses paid—which is a nice thing to hear, all things considered.

You stop by the fountain, and as you gaze at it you're reminded of the fountain at the mansion near the Rhodolite-Benitoite border. The sky was clear during that time, still waters shimmering under the bright sun. How it illuminated the parts of Clavis that’s adjacent to the fountain like an inchoate halo.

You're reminded of the fountain, but you remember like a solid, sturdy thing, the memory of your kiss. The way you tried to deny him—resisted him until the last moment, when you thought to yourself, This is my last opportunity, at the very least let me take it.

The water doesn't reflect you sharply in this fountain as the one in the border, but you can still make out the longing in your eyes, the downward curve of your lips. It ripples due to a child throwing a coin into it, and you watch the way the child runs back to her mother, before returning to the reflection and discovering someone else next to you.

Clavis grins in the reflection.

“Your Highness!” you start, placing distance between you, which he decimates by taking another step your way.

“Oh my goodness—fountain inviting fond memories?” he says, goading.

“Shouldn't you be busy doing prince things?” you prevaricate, continuing to back away, and him continuing to move forward.

“'Prince things'? What a way to describe the role of royalty,” he comments, ignoring how you're readying yourself to run. “If you must know, I'm on duty today.”

You're almost close to an alley. “On duty? For what?”

“That's classified.” He's alit with glee saying that. “Why would a non-royal need to know top-secret information?”

“I don't know? Why are you talking to me when you could continue on your top-secret duty?”

It doesn't make any sense. You've already said your goodbyes in the mansion, and that was supposed to be the end of it. You went home biting your lip, suppressing your tears from bursting out of you. You've already accepted your prince-less life the moment you stepped out of the throne room, your signature fresh in that parchment that declared the next king of Rhodolite. Once, Chevalier had given you grace, and in time you've dutifully paid your debt. And in that act he gave you another: a final opportunity of committing Clavis into memory.

Clavis seems to read your thoughts, because he quirks his lips and takes your hand and raises them between you, entwines his fingers with yours.

“Why not?” he says, and you want to shake him. “Why do you run away?”

“Because—” you stammer, and Clavis takes this chance to tug you forward, bodies flushed against each other. You can feel his heartbeat racing, and it stops you from attempting to escape his hold.

His eyes are serious when you lift your head to look at his face. It's almost refreshing.

“I'm going to ask you again,” he murmurs; you can feel the rumbling of his chest as he speaks.

“And my answer will be the sa—”

“But is that what you really want?” he challenges. His free hand snakes around your waist, his grip firm and with conviction. “Is it truly that?”

“What else do you want me to say?”

“A 'yes'.”

“No—”

“King's orders, you know.”

That makes you pause. Clavis smirks at your confusion, so he elaborates.

“My dear elder brother doing something right for once.” He grunts. “That is vile. I'll never say something like that again.”

“You're not being fair. Why don't you give up?”

“Oh, my dear partner-in-crime,” Clavis says, and the hand on your waist moves up. The other he brings near his lips. “It's always the difficult ones that I'm drawn to.”

You let his lips touch the back of your hand. When he moves it to his cheek and his gaze pierces yours and he gives you the most dazzling smile you've ever seen, your resolve crumbles.

“Okay,” you finally say. “Okay. You win.”

Clavis's joyous laughter fills the air before he kisses you.

[xbalayage]

Phew i might be late but i am finally here.

❝ i have decided that i will no longer be thinking. not a single thought in this head, from this point onward. ❞ with Clavis!

The Joker

Clavis/Reader

Fluff/Chaos

WC: 400~

A/N: I struggled so bad with this.. I don't think I struggled writing someone as much as I did for Clavis. He's such a wild card, he left me overthinking. Hopefully it doesn't show too much in the writing. Looking back at it, I'm not sure if it was writing for Clavis that threw me off, or the prompt itself.

"I have decided that I will no longer be thinking. Not a single thought in this head, from this point onward," he spoke with such conviction emitting through his words but you couldn't help the growing ache in your stomach to keep yourself from laughing. You had to turn your body away from him, trying deeply to support him in his conclusion. But your eyes met Cyran's - his eyes roamed Clavis' back which was facing the two of you for a moment and then traveled back to yours, shaking his head from side to side. His eyes spoke volumes: don't laugh. It would be all over if either one of you laughed. Truth be told, nobody in the room ever once thought Clavis has ever had a single logical thought ever bouncing around in his head. Didn't he just strictly run on auto-pilot? But these were all just perceptions that he never corrected other people on. He could play the fool, and also get you to drink the poison he offered with a smile on his face just as well. The thought or even just the audacity of realizing what he JUST said beforehand to that statement made it harder to bear to keep the laughter concealed. Rambling on about committing to a life of abstinence; one no longer attached to the filth of tomfoolery and chaotic tendencies or the creator of mysterious concoctions and cakes anymore. He, would now, live as an honest man. A honest gentleman. Oh god, the longer you stared at Cyran, the harder it became to keep it inside. He held a better mask, but you could see in his eyes that somewhere deep, he wanted to laugh as well. Neither of you could take him seriously, but you both wanted to support him -- that was, until Clavis turned around suddenly, a mustache adorned his face; you completely lost it. This was a set up!!! The known prankster was leading you both astray and you should've known better. Him? Giving up his nefarious ways for a moment of clarity? It was too good to be true. But now, a mischievous glint was in his eyes; a tall tell sign of terrible things to come. Before you knew it, your feet took off beneath you and the sound of his laughter echoed from behind. Today was going to be terrible for any and everyone. The wrath of Clavis has awoken.

taglist; @nightghoul381, @yvelk, @celiciaa, @drachonia, @aquagirl1978, @here-for-gilbert, @venulus, @strawberry-scum

[spoopy-fish-writes]

| I refuse to accept I’m in love

Suitor(s): Clavis and Rio (platonic), unspecified Rhodolite prince

TW: A little ooc tbh (it’s been a while), Clavis is a little shit

Genre: Platonic fic, crack-ish?

Notes: Gender neutral MC || Woah, Spoops still writes? Crazy || You’ve known both Clavis and Rio for years in this + lived in Obsidian. Don’t mind the details, this was supposed to be a series and then I forgot where I was going with it || Everyone is bit occ here, no I can’t fix it, and neither do I want to, this idea has been floating around my head for too long for me to care, I’ll be back to regular in character stuff later || Traps at the bottom autocorrected to naturals and for a second it said that Clavis’ naturals were connected to bells and I almost collapsed laughing

You flopped, face first onto Clavis’ bed (which he only had after you had flopped face first into his couch and bruised your nose), the man in question following after you with an amused smirk adorning his lips that you buried your head deeper into your (they may as well have been yours) pillows to ignore. Rio enters soon after, shutting the door behind the three of you.

“There’s no way my taste is this bad,” you groaned into painfully unused and beautifully soft pillows, the words muffled, and Clavis - the cruel, cruel man that he was finding your pain to be the most amusing thing he had seen all week - laughed.

You lifted your head up to glare at the man before you redirected your gaze to a book on the side table with a huff.

Rio - the dear angel that he was, your only solace and soothing balm to any of your ills - patted you on the shoulder comfortingly and you felt the bed dip as he sat beside you. “Your taste isn’t bad. Just- in need of improvement.”

You couldn’t be mad at him when he was trying (and failing) to make you feel better (even though he thought you had terrible taste and made that clear on several occasions), so you just stared harder at the stack of books on the side desk.

Attempting to distract yourself from the way that the third prince was eyeing you so knowingly, you picked up one of the books discarded on it and ended up sighing in annoyance at the rose on the front cover.

“Sariel’s said that even without clause 99, getting involved with a prince is a terrible idea. Living with you eight is pushing it already-“ you gave Clavis a scathing look that only made his smile stretch wider. “-there’s absolutely no need for to test how far my tolerance goes.”

He hummed thoughtfully, and leaned over to look at the book in your hands. “Tolerance. Right. Because that explains why dear, sweet Belle is looking at a rose and subsequent gesture of romantic intent so longingly.”

“I’m not looking longingly,” you had a half hearted attempt to swat at Clavis with the book in question and Rio swatted him with his hand when you failed to catch him with the book. “It’s not my fault a rose is my timer and I now have very strong feelings about the plant.”

Feelings so strong that a book was decidedly capable to invoke them.

You feel a little bad for taking it out on the book but you needed something. The book is beautifully designed. The cover is a dark red-ish fuchsia and rose a few shades lighter, subtle. The main detail comes from embroidery done in cold thread around the edges of the petals, changing in thickness in some places to add more definition, while a gold border lies about 2cm inside the actual edge of the cover. You’ve seen this book in the library in town before, fairly recently, but until now, you hadn’t had the chance to buy it (not that you want to anymore with the flower reminding you of too many thing that you don’t want to be reminded of).

Clavis sat down at the edge of the bed with a faux-exhausted sigh, swiping the book from your hands and draping himself dramatically while leaning back on one arm while the other held the book. “And those very strong feelings surely have nothing to do with my dear brother.”

“They don’t!”

You throw him one last glare, not honestly angry, and something in his expression shifts. You look away before you can catch what it is, resolutely re-burying your face into his pile of pillows, the room going silent. Rio sighed, withdrawing his hand from your back.

It’s not uncomfortable in the silence - it’s difficult to be uncomfortable with Clavis and Rio when you were familiar with the former from when you used to live in Obsidian and didn’t even know him to be a prince at the time, and have known the latter for just as long - but it’s weighed down by several things gone unsaid. Rio is the worst of the three of you at pretending that he has nothing to say, the dull rap of his fingers against the bed - unnoticeable if not for the complete silence - giving him away.

He’s also the first to give in to the urge to speak, as much as he’s usually the one to keep quite for your own comfort. “I think you’d be better of speaking to him and finding out if knowing you have feelings for him would make him somehow worse, and then me and Clavis can deal with him.”

You wished for a second that your eyes were open so that you could roll them at the entirely indiscreet threat aimed at the object of your conversation.

“Terrible idea.”

Mercifully, Rio doesn’t push and the room is quiet for a moment more.

There’s the sound of shifting fabric and you peek to see Clavis laying down next to you on his back, looking up at the ceiling. His smile is gone, expression indicating the genuine consideration of something, though his lips naturally quirk up at the corners so it still looks like he’s smirking from where you’re looking up at him.

“… What?”

“I haven’t said anything,” Clavis peers at you from the corner of his eye, gold filled with mischief that you’re too familiar with and should now better by now than to ask about, and his smile (smirk) is back.

“Your silence speaks volumes.”

His body shakes with his laughter and you can see each jerky move of his chest. “Look at you, reading me like a book all of a sudden.”

“Funny,” You turn and sit up right, expression still set in an unneeded scowl. “What is it?”

A gloves hand comes to his chin in an over exaggerated thinking pose and he sits there for an unnecessarily long amount of time.

“Oh, come on. Spit it out-” Rio starts.

You don’t know what you expect Clavis to say until you hear a little bell go off in his room, and the prince sits up eagerly.

“Ah- would you look at that! A someone’s fallen into my net!”

“You’ve connected your traps to bells-?” You start to ask but Clavis stands up and you realise that he’s about to leave before the three of you can finish your conversation.

Both yourself and Rio jolt and your hands shoot out to grab Clavis before he can escape through the door. You miss and it’s Rio that catches the fabric of his sleeve, just barely. It’s not enough and the prince dances around your attempts to catch him with an all too pleased laugh. “Sincerest apologies, but I have pressing matters to attend to involving a certain brother of mine!”

Now, you panic, but the door slams shut and you hear the click of the key and both you and Rio stare with varying degrees of horror at the door.

Rio pulls a pin of sorts from his pocket, kneels next to the door, and looks at you, expression serious. “Give me no more than a minute.”

Do not repost, edit or claim. Only reblog 💜

[randonauticrap]

🥰 ~ with Clavis Lelouch (Christmas Twist!)

Part of the Kiss, Hug, or Cuddle? event

~~~

Pairing ~ Clavis Lelouch x Reader

Word Count ~ 1938

Author's Note ~ I have no idea what happened, but I got sooo carried away with this one. Thank you for the request, Mary Ellen (@rhodolitesrose)! It was a joy to write, and I hope you enjoy it!

Christmas twist: keeping each other warm

-

You much preferred your room; quiet, peaceful, and beautiful. The window sill in your room at the palace was big enough for you to sit in, perched on the precipice between the inside and outside worlds, with only a thin veil of glass separating you. Sometimes, like in the current winter chill, you breached the wall of glass and pushed one side open, letting the crisp breeze of the night air reach your legs under the blanket. It was snowing, everything was frozen, even you. But that didn’t stop you from letting the fine, ephemeral flakes swirl into your bedroom before hitting your blanket; the carpet; the bed; and sticking, then slowly melting into nonexistence. Snow was a beauty you didn’t get to see often, and if getting to see its beauty up close meant freezing your limbs, so be it. 

A soft knock at your door pulled you from your reverence and you padded, sock-footed, over to the door and opened it to reveal a certain plum-haired prince in your doorway. “Good evening, Clavis.” you gathered him in your gaze, searching for any obvious clues as to why he had arrived here like a lost puppy at some poor unwitting woman’s doorstep.

“I couldn’t help but notice, my lady, that you have your window open despite it being unbearably cold outside.” Mischief glinted in his eyes and you stepped back involuntarily. 

“I do, yes.” you replied hesitantly. “Were you watching me from the garden?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, taking the space between you as a sudden invitation to cross the threshold, and strolled over to said open window. “But what’s the point if you can’t sprawl out in it, am I right? Tsk tsk.” he chided, the ghost of a smile haunting the faux disappointment on his face. 

Whereas normally yours and Clavis’s ideas of fun were vastly different, you couldn’t help but agree with him here, and let out a soft sigh. “Sariel would kill me. It’d be too easy for me to get sick and fall behind in my studies.” 

“Well then, little kitten.” Clavis turned abruptly to face you. “Isn’t it just perfect that Sariel isn’t here right now?” 

“You know he has eyes everywhere, Clavis.” you admonished.

The 3rd Prince’s grin widened into that Cheshire smile you were so used to seeing blooming on his lips. “Not in the places I know about. Come on! We’re gonna have some fun tonight, and Mr. Grumpypants will be none the wiser.” Before you could even consider disagreeing, your hand was folded in Clavis’s and he was tugging you out the door. 

You should have been rolling your eyes; you should have been concerned about what Clavis was up to; you should have missed the novel you had left discarded on your window sill. But all you could think about, as a blush crawled its way up your neck and face, is how soft Clavis’s hand felt as he laced his fingers with yours, and how your heart lurched at the idea of him letting go. 

Squeezing through a cabinet in the kitchens, down back stairs that had no flames to light their descent, through a small alleyway between two of the palace towers, and down into the courtyard below, Clavis led you, taking care to keep you upright and unharmed. “It would ruin the fun if we had a blood trail,” he had said, but a small piece of you hoped he simply wanted to keep you from getting hurt. You yelped in surprise when he lifted you off your feet and settled you into his arms, bridle-style. 

“Shhh!” he chuckled softly. “Don’t wake the guards. The Devil will really have our heads then!” he was chastising you, but there was mirth in his gaze, and you tucked your head in his neck to keep from giggling foolishly. 

“So why are you carrying me?” you whispered into the warm skin of his neck.

“This way, there’s only one set of footsteps leading out of the castle, not two. No incriminating evidence of you disobeying orders, milady. Just me.” you could feel his triumphant grin without even looking at him, and snuggled closer to his chest. 

“And you’re okay with that?” you whispered again.

“Of course!” he replied under his breath. “I am an expert at evading the Devil’s wrath.” 

“And what of your secret passageway? It’s practically ruined now.” you murmured, almost feeling guilty at the absurd notion.

“I have plenty.” came his simple reply, and your guilt vanished instantaneously. Of course he did. After several moments where you heard nothing but the crunch of Clavis’s shoes in the snow and the consistent beat of his heart against your ear, you reached a secluded part of the garden that he had shown you once before, in the spring. The wrought iron gate was decorated in a collection of icy flakes, making it sparkle and shimmer in the pale moonlight. Even in the winter, this tiny corner was ripped straight from the pages of a fairytale. You had every intention of walking in yourself, but Clavis made no moves to put you down as he fiddled with the key in the lock to the gate, merely shifting you so he could hold you with one arm instead of two. 

Your giggle finally escaped your lips and you clapped your hands over your mouth, until you looked down at Clavis, who had ceased in his war with the gate and was gazing up at you with- no, it couldn’t be, could it? Your hands lowered from your face absentmindedly, gravity returning them to where they belonged. Clavis’s smile was no longer that of an unruly wildcat, but of an arduous lover, and suddenly this rendezvous felt forbidden in a different way entirely. A clank beside you pulled his gaze from you at last, and he cast his eyes down at the lock that had haplessly fallen from the gate. “Shoddy piece of rubbish,” he mused, shaking his head. 

A moment later he had whisked you inside and closed the gate behind you, setting you down with a distinct crunch as your sock feet collided with the wet snow. “Ah!” you yelped at the stinging cold and hopped over to the bench in the center of the alcove, brushing the mound of snow away and sitting down, much preferring your rear to freeze than your feet. Clavis laughed, trudging over to you. 

“What a show you always give me,” he muttered, a tender smile on his face as he pulled a pair of slippers from his coat. 

“How did you-?” you muttered.

“I wasn’t planning on letting you say no.” he grinned up at you as he bent in front of you and took your foot into his hand, eliciting a surprised gasp from you. Winking, he slipped the shoes onto your feet and shrugged off his cloak, wrapping it around your shoulders instead and tying it at the base of your throat. It was warm, and smelled like him: lavender with a hint of cinnamon that drew you to close your eyes and absorb it without any other sensory distraction. When you opened your eyes, he was leveling you with that look again; the look that stoked a fire inside of you, hot enough to burn away the remnants of the chill.

“Clavis-”

“How do you like the snow?” His sudden and sharp change of pace threw you out of orbit and you sputtered for a moment, unsure of what to say. 

“I- uhm, it’s beautiful. Thank you for bringing me out here.” you replied, at last forming a coherent sentence. 

“Good, I’m glad you like it.” he turned away from you, as though he were admiring something within the bushes, then he bent low like he was examining something. 

“Clavis, what are you- ah!” you screeched as a splat of something distinctly cold and wet hit your cheek. Upon recovery, you realized that Clavis had flung a snowball at you, and was now grinning cheekily at you from where he stood. Once the shock wore off, you began to laugh; an unruly, unfettered laugh that very well could have carried on the wind to the palace guards. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, because you were already picking up a snowball of your own to hurl back at the 3rd Prince, who livened up immediately once he was sure the game was on. 

Snow was volleyed back and forth, defensive walls were made, and laughs exchanged. The snow had long since ceased its descent from the sky by the time the white flag was raised, and you were a mess of wet snow and incessant giggles. You met Clavis in the middle of the alcove and shook his hand in mutual surrender, then the prince burst into laughter too. “Alright, let’s get you inside before you catch your death - or I catch mine.” he said with a more serious tone. You nodded, remembering his weak constitution, and let him lead you back to the gate. But before he exited, he turned, holding his arms out. “No evidence, remember?” he smirked and you tittered, nodding. He hoisted you into his arms once more and you laid your head against his chest without even thinking. You heard his melodic chuckle above you and you realized what you had done. Despite the fact that your cheeks were burning, and not from the cold, you didn’t move. You laid against him willingly the whole way back to the castle, snuggling as close to his damp skin as his clothes would allow. 

Once you were back at the door to your room, he made a little mockish bow. “Milady,” he said curtly and turned to leave. But your hand shot out without warning even you, and your fingers curled around his bicep. He turned to look at you, surprise written in his shadow-cast features.

“Do- do you want to warm up?” you asked sheepishly. “I can light the fire in here. It gets warm pretty fast.” A beat of silence. Two. Perhaps you were mistaken? Perhaps the heat between you was yours alone. You loosened your grip on his arm and pulled your own back to your body, subconsciously curling into yourself. “I apologize. I crossed a line. Goodnight Pr-” but before you could even finish the word, he had pressed up against you, pushing you to step back until he stood in the room with you. 

“I’d love to.” he murmured softly, tracing your features with his perceptive gold eyes. “Warm up.” he added, his voice barely above a whisper, and your heart began to race.

“Okay,” you replied, a small smile catching your lips up in your heart’s erratic hoping.

That is how the night ended with a roaring fire in your fireplace, and two bodies tangled closely together under the covers of your bed, fingers tracing every available inch of skin with reverence and vulnerability, and lips gracing lips with unspoken words of ardor and desire. The cold had melted away in the arms of the man that never failed to make you smile, and you snuggled impossibly closer to him, your heart swelling when he beat the odds of pulling you in even more, his hand crawling under your nightshirt to splay his palm against your back, his touch as smoldering as his eyes before they closed so he could kiss you again. You sighed, relinquishing your will in the long battle against sleep, and drifted into a world where no number of beautiful dreams could possibly contend with your reality in Clavis’s arms.  

~

[tonixe]

Heyyy:)) can i please ask for a clavis x reader smut(with lots of fluff as well), thank youu💕💕

matching・Clavis Lelouch x Reader

genre・Smut 😈with fluff at the end + reader with female genitals

warning・P + V

words・1.75k

+ This is my first ever smut fic, so feel free to judge or criticize this ig. Hopefully, you enjoyed and sorry for the long wait >3 💗

+ Also sorry if it wasn't what you imagine or want. 💖💘💕💞

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

Time goes slowly as it passes by...

It felt like time was purposely slowing down; it felt like centuries past without seeing your trouble maker of the prince in the castle doing his princely duties around the kingdom, sitting on the comfortable sofa. Waiting for him to come back, to come back to you in your arms. As you reminisce about his soft touches that were dealt on your body, that you terribly missed.

Sitting down on the soft piece of furniture, wearing one of his jackets he lent to you, still enveloped with his sweet-smelling scent.

Waiting for him. Even if the world was ending, you would be in the exact spot waiting for him to finally come to you, even if it means ignoring your responsibilities as Belle.

As the day becomes night and the night becomes day, you would still return to the same spot. Staring at the window, your sad expression reflects the glass window as for his absence.

That once sad expression soon turned into an expression of beaming joy; seeing horses carrying in a snow-white carriage, hope was still in your heart that he would come, and I guess that same hope was on your side today, rubbing your eyes wake. When you saw that little troublemaker coming down from the carriage.

His dusty purple hair flowed around his handsome face; it felt like forever until you saw him wearing his usual cheeky smile.

Immediately open the door, using all your strength in your body, and run down the stairs to the gate where he arrived—further stopping until you saw him, unharmed and perfectly okay. That little troublemaker of you caused you so much worrying just for him to come; with that cheeky smile of his, you were breathless from the running right in front of him.

"C..clavis," a hoarse whisper came out of you, barely having energy in your voice, smiling at him in joy as your salty tears stained your face, your cheeky turning into a salty stained mess.

"Was I gone for that long?" he said, not.

Even acknowledging what he said and hugging him tightly was surprising to Clavis, especially for you have this comfort of finally having him in your arms made your heart swell.

The worry in you was gone when you got to touch him. When the curtains were drawn, when the time you got to be recovered by the touches and kisses you longed from him. Your leg wrapped around his waist as you both shared a passionate kiss; he was your addiction, someone that you yearned for, finally satisfying your craving for the word love.

Your back hit the soft bed as you both redrew from the kiss, and the wetness between your legs started to ache; being without Clavis in the castle did take a toll on you and your body. "C-clavis...I-" you were shortly overtaken by another deepen kiss than before, your tongues interlinked, moaning from immense pleasure.

Wrapping your hands over his neck, propping yourself and look at him with a hazy expression. "You were worried, weren't you" he whispers while unbuttoning his shirt. You were embarrassed to admit that you genuinely needed him and waited for this moment.

Your gaze follows his slender fingers unbuttoning his shirt as he lowes his fingers to lose off the last buttons, making your core ache further; you didn't know that your body was deprived of the sexual tension. "You're acting like it's your first time, darling; you were lonely without me, weren't you?" Your eyes laid towards his naked chest, his slender fingers slowly traveling to your clothed arousal.

His finger stroked your clothed arousal as he leaned into you, closing the proximity between you as he started nibbling on your ear and rubbing your arousal; the room was engulfed with your moans and whimper of pleasure as your once tidy display turned into disarray and a sensual look. A patch of wet stain was showing on your panty from the sheer fact of your satisfaction,

"Excited, aren't you, princess" he whispers, withdrawing his fingers away from your cloth arousal.

Your whimpers were sounding in the room. "I think it unfair your one being pleased. It would help if you started undressing" his eyes have a glint of desire and lust in them as he licked his finger covered by your essence.

You hurriedly slipped off your pantie, and your hands trembled as you unbuttoned your blouse; his eyes were still laid off your disarrayed figure. As you finally took off your undergarments, you felt small under his gaze, with your naked figure shown, as the glint of desire was established in his eyes; needless to say, it wasn't a lie that he was one of the dangerous beasts of the kingdom, and true to say it wasn't a lie.

The coldness of the air hardens your peaks.

Opening your leg, propping your hand behind you, showing your gaping hole ready to pleasure one of the beasts of the kingdom, giving him the puppy eyes and motioning your eyes between your legs. Your appearance gave off an alluring and seductive look as the tension inside the room turned into a risqué moment.

His eyes were allured to your suggestive position as you scanned his leaned position to see his hardened shaft forming at his pants.

"Clavis...let me pleasure you, and give you good welcoming" smiling at him and tracing your finger from the outline of his chest to the outline of his shaft. For the most part, throwing him off from that alone.

Throwing a suggestive look at him biting your bottom lip, as your dribbling cunt was tempting him to devour you and fuck you mercilessly. As he throws off his briefs and pants, soon being flashed by his hardened shaft making your arousal even more. Your eyes were laid to his post, propping yourself open as your fingers open your cunts lips. As he inserted his shaft into you, you jolted from the spread of pain through your abdomen.

"F-fuck" you hissed out, wishing the 3rd prince would get it over with and fuck you straight.

Digging your nail into his shoulders and throwing your head back, adjusting his size while inside you. "Ready darling?" he whispered, As he snapped his hips, "H-haah," moaning out as the sensation of pleasure in you from the simple moveth. Grinding your hips for the desprate for the delicious friction you craved so bad.

He was once teasing you again.

The moan and the act of reassurance sent the 3rd prince off the charts, triggering that animalistic urge. Placed his head on the small back of your neck and thrust inward while massing your inner wall and left small kisses throughout your neck, as the burning sensation spreading turned into fleets of pleasure. Forcing to jolted up

"C-clavis, stop being such a tease." softening your grip on his shoulders, tilting your pelvis for an entrance to fill the desperate void. "You sure" as he gave you a mocking cheeky smile and caress the fat of your cheeks.

"Please," giving him puppy eyes, finally sending him off the edge. As the message inside his eyes was working to the allure with a lustful gaze, he was still inside as you trusted inside and out of you with a frantic tempo.

As his room was soon filled with your breathy moans and languid pants.

Your exposed bosom bounced up and down from the frantic pace, and the slapping of skin echoed the room. This is the welcoming you wanted to give him as his long departure; as your gaze becomes hazy from the pleasure and the heat of your body increases, your body feels it is on fire. Marking and spreading kisses through your collarbone and breast as he thrust inside you.

"S-shit," you screamed, as the pace was in tempo, feeling that the 3rd prince enjoyed your welcoming gift from the extended pace, the sensations of the pleasure act.

As he was holding your hips securely, thrust inwards and out, "This is a good awakening, princess. I didn't know you were this good at giving gifts"

Giving him a hazy expression as your tongue was loled out. "You look good this way, (MC)" giving you a hard thrust, jolting you up again, moaning out. Stars were flooding your visions as he trusted inside on your walls.

While you let out a shaky breath as he pounded into you, savoring the delicious sensation. Goosebumps spread through your arms, feeling a coil tension pooling throughout your abdomen as he played with your clit. Enjoying the simulation from the sensation of biting the bottom of your lip. "C-clavis, I'm close," you panted out.

Feeling him pulsate inside you, tighten around him inside your inner walls. "Is that so" his pace was more animalistic than ever as his hips collided with you. Your hips stuttering, the brutal pace wearing you out, as you wrap your neck around his neck, your breast bouncing from the tempo.

"C-clavis, I think-"

"Do it, princess," he caresses your hips; soon, your coil snapped as the long crescendo of moans ranged out through the room, your mind shattering.

The heat pooling from your abdomen dropped, linking out of you. Your released your essence, coating his shaft as your body fell limped from the sensation, leaving you weak.

As his thrust becomes sloppier, feeling him pulsate more inside of you noted that he was close and soon feeling the warm sensation. He takes himself out of you and feels his warmness gone as he empties himself on the sheet.

Your body slumped down, your back hitting the bed. Both of your pantings echoed the room, as your body was covered in sweat, your half-lidded look at him, "S-so, did you enjoy your welcoming gift" you panted out, your legs exposed, still dripping from your earlier release.

His body was caved over you, "Mhm," he panted out, "you always give the best gifts, darling," playing with your hair and kissing and planting hickies on your neck.

As you both share a passionate and sweet kiss, "M'thats good."

"Say, your gift was wonderful darling, let me repay you for it, sharing a hot bath together" as he nuzzled your neck and massage your bosoms. Biting down your bottom lip holding your moans back, from the pleasure "Doesn't that sound good, princess"

Letting out a breathy moan, "Ngh-y-yeah...it doesn't sound good," he soon carried your limped body and walked to his grand bathroom chamber.

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

· ➳❥ Criticizing or judgment is welcome here; reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[cloudcountry]

Why, hello there~

*cringes*

For your event, which I hope you have fun with, hmmmm....

... the purple menace (Clavis) and gn!reader getting snowed in could prove to be interesting

and if he's proving to not cooperate with you, feel free to write for Vil instead

mwah mwah, stay warm, Aubergine!

AND GET SOME DAMN REST

SUMMARY: You get snowed in with Clavis. Shenanigans ensue.

WARNINGS: none!! :D

COMMENTS: sniffles.....pretty princess lelouch.....he deserves everything. ANDI AM RESTING!! IM RESTING TOO MUCH!!!! that's why i must write ahgdhsdhjdhd AAAAA

By the looks of the snow outside, you’re guessing it’s the heavy stuff that’ll stick to the roads and form dangerous sheets of ice all across Rhodolite. It’s the perfect weather to build a snowman, as Clavis pointed out a few hours ago with that smug grin on his face.

The memories of your last snowman together are still fresh in your mind, and although the poor thing would have cursed the both of you until the day you died for the features you bestowed upon it, Clavis’s joy had been infectious. He even managed to get Cyran in on it, which spawned a massive snowball fight in the gardens.

That was the day Clavis took a hit for you. Cyran pelted him continuously even after he dramatically went down, completely ignoring you until you threw a snowball at his head to get him to leave Clavis alone. The equally as dramatic Cyran didn’t let that slide, making jabs at you every hour afterward for your betrayal on the field.

Clavis kissed you like you were the only thing that mattered when he finally got you alone, the two of you wrapped up in a blanket in front of the fireplace. It was a kiss that warmed you up from the tips of your toes to the top of your head.

However, it seemed like this year would hold no fun wintertime activities. Clavis had sent out a warning for the kingdom that the amount snowfall was now considered dangerous, and that people were to not leave their homes unless absolutely necessary.

And you, as the person who would rule by Clavis’s side one day, were no exception, no matter how badly he wanted the two of you to be.

“Waiting for me, my love?”

A familiar voice croons in your ear as familiar arms sneak around your waist. You murmur a soft hello as he rests his chin on your shoulder, staring out at the kingdom from the window.

Rhodolite has always been such a beautiful sight to you. But now that you’ve gone through what it’s like to be Belle, explored the neighboring nations, and experienced the princes at their worst and best, you have a new appreciation for the view. It was hard fought. The kingdom’s peace may not be as stable as you would like it to be at the moment, but with Clavis as the newly appointed king, you have faith that one day he will bring your shared dream to fruition and make sure every single life is saved.

That is, after all, what he’s always wanted.

“I’m always waiting for you when you’re not here.” you say, resting your head against his.

It’s such a contrast to how you treated him in the past that you can’t help but smile. Those days of snarky banter and empty teasing are over, both for him and for you. And those days will never return, but you can’t bring yourself to long for them when what you have now is so much better.

You have a man before you who showed you his wounds, showed you his past, let you understand him. You have a man that you fought to get to know, even when everyone around you was telling you to turn tail and run.

You believed in him, and you know he knows this. It’s why he loves you so much, and why you vow to let him know you love him just as much every day.

“If that’s the case, you should come with me.” he chuckles, nuzzling into your neck, “I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?” you try your hardest not to snicker, but with the way he smiles against your skin you have a feeling he knows how amused you are anyway, “There’s no use in asking what is it, is there?”

“You know the answer to that.” he chuckles, spinning you by the waist so you’re facing him, “You’re smart enough to know I will give you nothing in the way of hints.”

“That I am.” you smile at him and he takes your cheek in his palm, tilting your head to the side. My

You know it’s coming, so you close your eyes.

Only to feel a single kiss on your nose.

Clavis pulls away, intertwining your fingers in a single, smooth motion. You’re left confused and mildly disappointed when he tugs you away from the window without a real kiss, but you know him well enough to know that he’s holding himself back.

You’ll get all of that and more when you reach this surprise.

You sigh deeply when you realize which direction Clavis is taking you, the route all too familiar for your late-night snack runs and your quality time with Yves. He’s taking you to the kitchen, and honestly you don’t know why they’re still letting him there but you’ll be damned before you turn down your loving boyfriend’s cooking.

Ha! You just called the King of an entire kingdom your boyfriend! It makes you giddy, so giddy a giggle slips past your lips. Clavis doesn’t miss it.

“Oh, I would be excited too if I were you! Each dish was carefully crafted with you in mind, my love.” he throws open the kitchen doors with flourish, and you’re mostly surprised that there’s no one else there and not that he made you an entire buffet.

Ah...the chefs must have heard of his plans and ran.

“Clavis...are all of these foods bunny themed?” you ask softly, taking note of the googly eyes and horns that Leon had correctly identified as bunny ears all that time ago.

“Of course they are. If we can’t have fun outside, then we will have fun inside.” he beams, and you feel your heart fluttering in your chest.

He did all of this for you. You’re so lucky.

“Thank you. I love you.” you smile back, hooking your finger under his tie and yanking him into you.

The hand you press to his chest as you two share that kiss proves that he loves you just as much. With how powerfully his heart is beating, it’s not like there’s any room for doubt.

[writingwhimsey]

Congratulations on your milestone!!

I'm going to ask for a trope I've never written myself and one I find rather intimidating: May I request Body Swap with Clavis? I think it could be quite fun and I'd love to see how you tackle it! 💜

Thank you so much @violettduchess (also I am so happy to see you back)! This request was so MUCH fun and also I feel honored to write my first Clavis fic for you. This one...well it got a little long (2900 words)! But i hope you and everyone enjoys it!

A bit of crack and fluff (because what else could be perfect for this agent of chaos).

I'm You...You're Me?! HELP!

Clavis woke with a pounding headache. He had attended a ball the previous night with his lovely lover on his arm. At the ball, his lover had had a bit much to drink, goaded into it by some troublesome guests. Of course, the drinking wasn’t the only thing to have happened.

The party had been a rather odd one. The host had recently become fascinated with mysticism and magic. There was no shortage of palm readers, fortune tellers, soothsayers, and supposed magicians, witches, and wizards. All were there to show their talents and offer their potions and services to all the guests.

One of the witches had been handing out supposed love potions and some other potions. One such potion she had offered to Emma. “One sip of this and you and your lover will be able to know each other and understand each other in ways you’ve only dreamed of.” The woman had said as she placed the potion in Emma’s hand.

Emma had accepted the gift, but only out of politeness. She had originally had no intention of taking it…or at least that was until she had been goaded into drinking…and then there had been some taunting by a certain visiting prince from the neighboring kingdom of Benitoite. Then she had downed the potion in her riled up and drunken state. Clavis had carried her from the party and to the carriage before having to carry her to bed.

He still didn’t know how he had ended up with a headache. He hadn’t so much as touched a drop of alcohol. He moved to roll out of bed…only to realize he was on the opposite side of where he recalled falling asleep.

I must have been through more than I thought last night. He thought as he made his way to the bathroom to begin his morning routine. He was surprised when he reached the toilet and went to undo his pants…only to find he wasn’t wearing any, but rather a white lace nightgown.

He blinked in surprise. Maybe someone slipped something into my drink last night. He thought, though something didn’t feel right. He lifted up the nightgown to inspect further only to find something was definitely missing.

Clavis rushed over to the mirror hanging on the wall. He found the face looking back at him was not his own handsome face, but the beautiful face of the one he loved the most. “I…I have to be dreaming.” He spoke, though the voice that came from his mouth was that of his lover.

It was moments later he heard hurried footsteps and then turned as the door opened. In stepped well…him. “Clavis…” The name came from his own lips in his own voice, but the eyes were clearly wide in surprise.

“Emma…”

“I-is…is this a dream?” She asked. “I…it has to be a dream right?”

“Or perhaps that potion from that witch was real.” Clavis replied, still getting used to hearing Emma’s voice when it should have been his own.

“B-but…I thought magic wasn’t real…I thought it was a bunch of hocus pocus!” Emma replied, throwing her…or rather Clavis’s hands up. “Plus I…I never thought that it would do THIS! We have to reverse this!”

“I would think you would enjoy this opportunity, as my lovely lover.” Clavis replied, somehow managing to make a cheshire grin curve on Emma’s own lips. “Not everyone gets the chance to live as such a handsome devil as myself.”

Emma glared at him through his own eyes. “Clavis! I am serious! We can’t let anyone know about this!”

Clavis couldn’t help but to smile at the way she managed to make her cuteness come through even in his own body. It was his face, yet it was clearly her cute little frown. “I’m being serious, too. That witch did say that we would better know and understand each other.”

“That is true…” Emma admitted. “But still, we have to find that witch and get this reversed!”

“We shall, but first we have to get ready.” Clavis replied. “And when we leave, we can’t let anyone know what’s going on.”

“I don’t think anyone would believe us anyways.” Emma replied with a nod. “They’d probably think this was some elaborate prank you convinced me to go along with.”

“Most likely.” Clavis agreed. 

The pair were soon starting to get ready. Emma gasped as Clavis began to reach for his usual face wash. “What?” He asked.

“You CAN’T use THAT on MY face!” She scolded. “You will ruin the skincare routine Yves helped me with!” She was then reaching for a series of bottles and small beautifully decorated jars. “You have to start with this wash, then you have to use this scrub to exfoliate, then this face mask, then you’ll use THIS face wash, and use THIS toner, and then you’ll put this on for sun protection and this one for moisturizing.”

“Gracious what a complicated skincare routine my little brother crafted for you.” Clavis replied, eyes widening.

“Yes, but it has paid off. My skin has never been healthier and it just glows.” Emma replied.

“And here I thought your glow was because of how loved I make you feel.” Clavis replied, pouting playfully.

Emma frowned at him. “That’s a different kind of glow.”

Clavis just chuckled and then began to work through the long and complicated process that was his lover’s skincare routine…though she ended up stopping him and just finishing it up for him because he kept trying to do it out of order…which may or may not have been on purpose.

“Does it always feel this way for you?” Clavis asked, as Emma, in his body, washed his face…or rather her face…this body swapping thing could get a bit confusing.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“Well, it always feels good to me when you touch me…but being in your body and experiencing what it feels like to have my hands on you…well this is an entirely different sensation.” Clavis replied.

“Warm, tingly, comforting, with a hint of…something more?” Emma asked.

“Yes, that’s exactly it.” Clavis answered.

“Yes.” She told him. She was then slowing and taking her time even more to finish the process, wanting Clavis to know how it truly felt for her when he took care of her.

Once they had finished that, Emma was going to fix her…or was it Clavis’s hair? When she picked up a comb, Clavis was stopping her. “Oh, no not THAT comb.” Clavis told her, reaching for a specific wooden one. He was then handing her a jar that held some kind of styling product in it. “And you’ll need this as well.”

“What is this for?”

“It helps to make my hair easier to manage and stay in place. Without it, I’m afraid my hair is an utter disaster.” Clavis replied. “Or have you not noticed my terrible bedhead in the mornings?”

“Okay, that is a fair point.” Emma agreed. She was then opening the jar and getting ready to apply it, but Clavis was stopping her once again. “Here, sit down and I’ll help you with that.”

Emma nodded and sat down as Clavis moved behind her. She watched in the mirror as he carefully applied the cream to her…his?...hair. He had a special technique for applying the cream before running the comb through it and styling it just so.

While Clavis was working, Emma took the time to really FEEL what was going on and how his body was reacting to the touch of her hands. There seemed to be some…especially strong reactions when Clavis moved her body closer, heart beating faster…then when her legs pressed especially close, blood beginning to rush…

“Okay, I think that part must be done.” She declared, jumping up.

Clavis looked at her before bursting out laughing. “My lovely lover is finally learning how my body reacts to her.”

“I…” Emma began, but couldn’t think of anything to say.

Clavis was absolutely delighted as he finished his task. Emma was practically bolting from the chair afterwards, causing him to laugh once again and her to glare at him. How odd it felt to be glared at by his own eyes, Clavis thought…yet Emma’s adorable nature still showed through.

After finishing up with that part of their morning routines, the couple found themselves in a new pickle. It was time to get dressed. “How in the hell do you get this blasted thing on every day?” Clavis asked Emma, as he struggled to get her corset on. “How can something that I remove from you daily be so difficult to get on?!”

Emma would have laughed had she not been having her own struggles with Clavis’s clothes. “That has to be easier to figure out than all these damn belts!” She countered. “Why do you even wear this many?!”

“Carrying a sword does weigh down your pants.” Clavis replied, matter-of-factly. “Help me with this infernal thing and I’ll help you with the belts.”

“Alright.” Emma agreed.

Sometime later…

After finally getting dressed, Clavis and Emma were ready to set out in search of the witch. “Remember you have to pretend to be me.” Clavis reminded Emma. “You are King Clavis Lelouch.”

“And you are Emma, former Belle of Rhodolite.” She reminded him.

“And I had the brilliance to select two kings.” Clavis replied, grinning.

Emma rolled her eyes…er Clavis’s eyes?...and just gave him a look, which only made him grin more.

Clavis reached for Emma’s…or his hand which currently belonged to Emma. “Come along now, little bunny.” He said, pulling her out the door.

They had made it a few steps down the hall when they were stopped by the seneschal who cared for Clavis’s villa. “Young Master, just where are you headed? Do you not recall the meeting you had scheduled with your council today?”

Emma was trying to figure out why the kind old man was looking at her, but then she remembered that SHE was in Clavis’s body currently. “I…” She began to say, but was having a hard time thinking of something.

“I was just leading him there.” Clavis spoke up, taking on the role of Emma far better than she was at taking the role of him. “I wanted to be sure he got there and of course, because I just love him so and can’t stand to be apart from my devilishly handsome lover for long, I thought I would attend the meeting with him!”

Okay…well he WAS doing better until THAT line. Well TWO could play at that game. “Don’t listen to her. She’s only covering for me. It is I that cannot bare to be apart from my lovely lover.” She said, using the arms she now controlled to wrap around the waist of her own body, hugging Clavis close. “She is FAR too good for me and I don’t deserve her or her love and kindness in the least. But I can’t help but to be a selfish idiot of a man and want her all to myself and to have her at my side at all times.”

The old man looked at the two of them, lifting an eyebrow before shaking his head, though a fond smile appeared across his face. “I’m not really sure what is going on with the two of you today… but just be sure to attend the meeting and don’t make too much of a show of…whatever this is. It is not very gentlemanly.”

When he walked away, Clavis was bursting out laughing. “My lovely lover is so excitable.” He said, looking up at her.

“Ugh, I can’t believe I just did that. But YOU started it.”

“I know and I am so very glad I did.” Clavis replied. “Now I know the joy it feels to be manhandled by myself. The thrill I had when you pulled me in.”

Emma instantly released him. “You are such a hellcat.”

“Come now my dear little rabbit.” Clavis said. “We have a meeting to attend. It is an important one.”

“Right, right…I just hope we can get through it.” Emma replied, feeling a bit nervous.

“Once the meeting is over we can head out in search of our witch.” Clavis replied.

The pair headed for the meeting, Cyran standing guard at the door. The meeting began Clavis speaking up as Emma and declaring that “she” was in attendance as future queen of the kingdom of Lelouch (provisional) and that “she wanted to help out. Emma did her best to impersonate Clavis, but for the most part had to let him take the lead…which everyone found very odd.

Once the meeting concluded the council members were leaving and it was now Clavis, Emma, and Cyran. “Okay are either of you going to tell me what in the hell is going on?” Cyran asked. “Neither of you are acting like yourselves.”

“I don’t know what you could mean.” Clavis replied. “I am perfectly myself, as is my amazingly handsome lover.”

Emma gave Clavis a glare. “I don’t think he;s going to buy that.”

“It’s almost as if you two have switched personalities or something.” Cyran commented.

“You’re not too far off the mark.” Emma replied. 

Cyran looked at them suspiciously. “You took some kind of potion at that party last night didn’t you?” He asked.

“Yes and…well we woke up in each other’s bodies.” Emma said.

Cyran blinked as he looked between the two before bursting out laughing. “That’s…ahaha…so you’re Emma…and you’re…actually Clavis…oh that…that’s a good one.” He said, slowly calming down from his laughter. “Another of your pranks…”

“No. I’m afraid my lovely lover is right.” Clavis told Cyran.

Cyran ceased his laughing and looked at the couple…REALLY looked. “Oh my…you’re serious? So wait, one of those potions actually worked?! I thought they were all charlatans.”

“I did too.” Emma replied. “But I never thought that…THIS would happen!”

“It’s good that you know, Cyran. Now you can help us out.” Clavis said. “We need to go track down that witch.”

“If it weren’t for poor Emma, I’d say you could stand to stay this way a bit longer.” Cyran replied. “But I can’t let her stay like this.”

“Thank you Cyran.” Emma replied.

The trio soon set out in a carriage, searching for the witch. They started with the host of the party, but he wasn’t able to help them narrow it down. He’d had so many special guests last night, but he had given them the names of every one of them. After that, it was a matter of narrowing down the list and tracking down the most likely candidates.

It was taking the entire day. “You look tired.” Clavis said to Emma. He was then reaching up and pulling her close, until her…his…head was resting in his…her…lap.

“What are you doing?” Emma asked.

“Just letting you experience the world’s finest pillow.” Clavis answered with a chuckle. “How many people get to see they’ve rested in their own lap?”

Emma let out a sigh, but then settled down. She had to admit…this was actually rather comfortable. “Okay…I think I might understand why you like using my lap as a pillow so much now.”

Clavis chuckled as he began to run fingers through hair. “Hmm…my hair is quite soft.” He replied. 

“Does it…always feel this good when I mess with your hair?” She asked.

“Every touch from you always feels amazing.” Clavis replied.

“Did you two forget I was here?” Curan asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at the two, sitting in the carriage across from them. “Or do you two have any idea how weird this is?”

Emma gave a sheepish look, cheeks reddening. “Sorry.”

Before much longer, the trio was arriving at the final destination…thankfully finding the witch there. She greeted them at the door, a smile on her face. “Ah, I see you took the potion.” She said, looking at them knowingly.

“Yes…and we had no idea that this is what would happen.” Emma replied. “How…how do we get back into our own bodies?”

“Are you able to make a new potion?” Clavis asked.

“There is no counter potion.” The woman answered. “The effects only last a day. You will wake up back to normal tomorrow.”

With that, they returned to the villa. Clavis and Emma helped each other with their nighttime routines before slipping into bed together. Clavis insisted on cuddling and Emma being the big spoon. “I never knew it was so nice to be held like this.” He commented. “Is this how you always feel? So safe and warm when I hold you.”

“Yeah.” Emma answered. “It actually feels nice…holding you like this.”

“You know…there is another experience we could try seeing what it’s like for the other.” Clavis said, a suggestive tone.

Emma was instantly shoving him away. “We are NOT trying THAT!”

“Come on, aren’t you a little curious?” Clavis replied. “I know I’d be interested to know what it feels like.”

“Just go to sleep Clavis.” Emma replied, giving him a stern gaze.

Clavis chuckled. “Alright, but I still think it would be an excellent experiment.”

“Goodnight Clavis.” Emma said, sternly.

“Goodnight, dear little rabbit.” Clavis replied, gently.

They both closed their eyes, the promise of tomorrow things returning back to normal on their minds…and perhaps both with a better understanding of each other.

tags: @zulablaise @kisara-16

[venti-tangents]

Confessions on the Beach

For the past few months, this has been living rent free in my brain. The Sultry Summer Nights event was the last story event we got where the MC and Clavis weren't lovers. Don't get me wrong—I loved the way the romantic tension played out in the event. However, the event being so close to his actual route release, I couldn't help but wonder what it would look like if the beach scene were a part of his route, or ended in some sort of resolution to the romantic tension. Thus, this was born. Enjoy!

WC: 794  Warnings: Spoilers for Clavis’ route in the Sultry Summer Nights Event. 

THE sand felt icky between my toes; the crash of the waves provided a remedy for my condition. For a moment, washing away the sand was the only care I had in the world, as I hiked my skirt over my knees and marched into the ocean. 

Unfortunately, my expectations that were set high by the lovely descriptions of the sea in my books were intimately deflated the moment I stepped foot in the water. Instead of washing off, the sand stuck to my feet, made worse by the seaweed tangling around my ankles and the clams below my heels. All of a sudden, my body reacted out of instinct, desperate to flee.

“GET IT OFF–what the fuck is that ?!” Half shriek, half cry I jumped around, trying to put distance between me and whatever ungodly creature just crawled out of the ocean.

Laughter rang in my ears, the source being a doubled over Clavis desperately trying to catch his breath. “My goodness” he managed in between gasps “…what an amazing reaction!”

Contagious. So much so that in spite of myself I found humor in my own humiliation.

 “Is that why you brought me here?” I quipped back, as I struggled to contain my own giggles. 

Time seemed to freeze, as the world narrowed to just the two of us, laughing like children on the beach. Even as I lost grip of my skirt and the water soaked its hem, even as a wave knocked me off balance, sending me face down into the wet sand. Except the impact never came. Instead of the expected cold embrace of the water, I found myself embraced by warm arms; instead of finding myself reflected in the blue of the ocean, I saw myself in Clavis’ golden eyes.

“Ah, I can’t take my eyes off you for even a second, my sweet” He chuckled deeply. Clavis, who was usually impeccably groomed from head to toe was in absolute disarray below me, sand plastered to his shirt, seaweed tangled in his hair. Yet, he laughed wholeheartedly, like he was genuinely having the time of his life. 

“Your hair is a mess.” Giddy,  I plucked seaweed out of his drenched waves. 

“Yours isn’t any better. Maybe the local children will mistake you for a sea spirit.” 

“Is that so? Then they must mistake you for a sea monster, given your state”

“A male siren! Ah, you say the most flattering things, my sweet”

“Between us, I’d be the one mistaken for a siren. Especially next to you!”

He let out a deep, bellowing laugh, making me much more aware of his chest pressed up against mine. I figured he was built solidly, but the lean elegance of his body was all the more obvious with his soaked white dress shirt…

For the first time in my life I snapped my head up to the sky in silent prayer–please don’t let him notice the blush climbing up my neck.  When I regained enough of my composure to look down. I was met with a tilted smile and flushed cheeks—I could not breathe, could not think, could not do anything but look into his eyes.

Clavis called out my name, hands around my waist trembling. Nervousness, excitement, adoration and fear danced on his face—the man that I had only caught glimpses of was finally in front of me, tangible and real. My thumb found its way to the beauty mark right under his mouth, traced its way across his plush bottom lip. 

“Yes, Claivs?” I barely recognized my own voice, raspy and raw, filled with want. Time stopped–all that mattered was his warmth, his laugh, his smile. 

“What do you want to do now?” Slowly, his hand tangled in my hair. 

Our situation was ridiculous, yet it was the first time in years where I didn’t care about what came next. “Kiss me, Clavis.” Barely a whisper, my heart sored—finally getting its way after years of being ignored. 

“As my lady wishes.” Swiftly, he closed the distance between us, his plush lips meeting mine. Softly, I kissed him back, afraid that he’d disappear behind his usual mask. 

Through soft kisses and caresses, our hearts shared secrets that our heads were too scared to acknowledge. When we finally broke for breath, we burst out in giggles—giddy like a pair of infatuated teenagers.

In this special place outside of time, the tension between us finally broke. It was a long time coming, and I was sure that once time restarted and we returned back to Rhodolite, we would be back to our positions; as Belle and a Prince.  Yet, the sight of a genuinely happy Clavis is enough to give me just a little bit of hope that things would turn out okay. 

[ikehoe]

Silly Little Prank [Clavis x Reader][Smut][Ikemen Prince]

Characters ↬ Clavis Lelouch x AFAB Reader 

Rating ↬ E [Smut]     

Tags ↬ Cunningulus, Clavis calls reader “Good Girl.” 

Description ↬ How were you supposed to know that you’d get knocked out after trying to save Yves from another one of Clavis’ pranks? Not only that, but the orchestrator of the prank would willingly offer himself up to be your personal butler, waiting on you hand and foot. It started out as an innocent gesture to redeem himself (as innocent as something from Clavis could be) but ended up in something purely sinful and beneficial to the both of you… 

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

Wordcount ↬ 2k

Tag List ↬ @and-then-she-died-tm @kpop-and-otome @curious-skybunny @lordsister @aquagirl1978 @kleeps @ikesimp100 @chaosangel767 @rhodolitesroseforclavis @themysticalbeing @violettduchess @atelieredux @dazais-baby @devildomwritersposts @otomegameinlove @randonauticrap @queengiuliettafirstlady

Please fill out this form if you'd like to be included on my tag list. 

It had been around two weeks since the palace doctors forced you to your bed, concern for your wellbeing evident on their faces, furrowed brows, and squinted eyes examining you for any signs of lasting damage. How you ended up getting into this predicament was simple, really. You’d inadvertently gotten in the middle of one of Clavis’ typical pranks on his younger brother, only to have things go disastrously wrong when the bucket of ice water landed right onto your head, knocking you unconscious for a few hours. 

There was one plus side to this whole situation. The resident prankster himself was so guilt-ridden after seeing you lying unconscious in the hospital bed that he’d been immediately sworn to wait on you hand and foot. According to the maids and palace staff, he’d even shirked all his regular duties just so he could knock on your door at the crack of dawn to begin showering you with unnecessary gifts (out of good will, but annoying nonetheless). You even started letting your guard down around him, allowing him into your room right after you had your regular night time bathing routine, pretending not to notice the way his golden eyes would trail from your face, down to the supple curve of your neck, and then linger on the sliver of thigh that would peek out from the sheer material of your nightgown. 

It was a mix of pure torture and heaven for Clavis. He couldn’t count how many times he had to subtly shift his briefs to conceal his raging hard-on after seeing how your nightgown hung delicately over your curves. Counting his lucky stars, he once had even seen how the nubs of your chest had hardened underneath the soft fabric, poking through due to the chill in the room. It took every last ounce of his willpower to offer you his jacket rather than rip the nightgown off you and lavish your body with his tongue, over and over, until you were crying out from pleasure underneath him.  

“Oh dearest Belle,” a familiar teasing voice called out from beyond the door before landing three sharp raps against the wooden frame. “Aren’t you going to invite me in for our little nighttime routine?” And though, at this point, you had let him into your room countless times, a tiny part of him still wondered if this would be the day you’d reject him.

“Clavis? How many times do I have to tell you I don’t need you to help me get ready for bed – it’s been three weeks, and the doctors said I’m perfectly fine two weeks ago!” You exclaimed, getting up and letting him in anyways despite your words. A part of you found it thrilling when the third Prince of Rhodolite would shower you with attention. There was a sexual charge between the two of you that was further bolstered by this game of cat and mouse you two played. 

“Well, you can never be too careful; after all, I am the utmost gentleman and must make my wrongs right,” he retorted, smirking at you in all his mischievous wonder. 

Clavis was dangerous. Everyone in the palace warned you about him. The third Prince was unpredictable, unreliable, and a nuisance at best. At worst, he could make your life a living hell. But that didn’t stop you from wanting to get to know him more. It didn’t stop you from examining every one of his beautiful, regal features, starting from his long purple lashes, framing the most stunning liquid gold eyes, down to that beauty mark that perfectly accentuated his lower lip. It was unfair, truly, how you were expected not to fall into his charms – especially when he was this captivating. 

The Prince’s movements were nothing short of graceful, nearly predatory, as he sauntered over to where you sat on the bed. The height advantage allowed him to sneakily peer down the neckline of your gown, mouth widening into a grin as your corset pushed your chest into an almost uncomfortable position. “Whatever you need, Belle, consider me your personal butler, here to wait on you at your every beck and call.” 

The heated undertone of his words didn’t fail to send a jolt of arousal straight to your core, and you took a deep breath before getting up from the bed. “Well… I… guess I wouldn’t mind some help getting out of this dress – I don’t know why you royals insist on having corsets that require at least one other person to help you get them off.” 

Before another word could even fall from your lips, you felt Clavis’ hands gently brush against the small of your back. His heated breath warmed up the curve of your neck as he slowly pulled on the ribbon that tied the boning together. With dexterity that only he could possess, he began unweaving the ribboning of your corset, taking the utmost care not to hurt you in the process, massaging any sore muscles through the fabric of your dress as he went. Your mind was hazy as you began imagining his hands rubbing elsewhere, unshackled by the barrier of your clothing. A soft moan slipped from your lips as he leaned in closer, needing to focus on a particularly difficult spot, and both of you immediately stiffened. 

Moments went by of pure, charged sexual tension, and then you heard him shift and clear his throat. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke again, and you swore even that was causing you to become unbearably turned on. “And your request is now complete. Can I assist you with anything else, madame?”

Another few moments passed by, a million thoughts racing through your brain. You wanted him. Your body wanted him. That was clear, with the way your panties were soaked just from a few minutes of gentle, innocent grazes of his hand against your back. And you knew it was wrong, taking advantage of this situation, but he did offer to help you out with everything.

Clavis watched, lips quirked up as you battled your inner voice of reason. He’d nearly lost all semblance of logic a moment ago when that heavenly moan escaped from your lips. It was odd how strong of a hold you had on him. Truly, he had the most innocent of intentions when he offered himself to be your personal butler after his silly little prank; he really did. But now, with your breasts heaving, pupils dilated as you turned to look up at him with that look that screamed you wanted him to take you, his resolve was crumbling away piece by piece. 

“I’ve had some really sore muscles lately… I don’t think it’d be the worst thing if you… helped me out with that,” you mumbled, voice dropping down to a near whisper with the last word. 

“And your wish is my command,” he murmured before gently sliding the sleeves off your dress, exposing the skin of your shoulders. Then, he paused, as though waiting for you to give him permission to continue undressing you. Then, after a quick nod, he continued sliding the fabric off of you, eyes darkening with heat as he took in every inch of your body, covered only by your dampened panties. His eyes were fixated on you for so long that you made a move to cover yourself, beginning to feel the heat rush to your cheeks, only to be stopped by him. 

“Let’s get you into a more comfortable position,” he drawled, maneuvering you towards the bed and lowering you down onto the covers, face down. Then, with careful restraint, he began kneading at your shoulders, moving down inch by inch until his hands were on the small of your waist. The dampness seeping through your panties didn’t escape his sharp gaze, and he trailed one finger along the waistband of your undergarments. “May I? I need you to be the most relaxed and comfortable, so I can… make you feel good,” he chuckled, voice shooting straight to your core. 

You gave another quick nod and thanked the stars that you didn’t have to look at, what you were sure, was a sinfully devious look on the Prince’s face. He lifted your hips up to slide the lacy material off you with ease, and you swore you could hear him lick his lips. 

“You know, dearest Belle, I could’ve sworn you were a little minx these past few weeks, just for me. Teasing me, letting your hand linger a little too long on my arm, pressing up against me just too long when you’re reaching for something… but that couldn’t be, could it? Our little golden Belle, capable of no wrong, wouldn’t be trying to seduce the big bad wolf, would she?” His voice dripped with absolute sin as he continued now, kneading into the soft flesh of your rear, fingers skating by your throbbing core every few seconds. It was so close. Always so close, but at the last second, he would go back to rubbing your thighs or your lower back, never touching the area that felt like it was on fire. 

Suddenly, a light but sharp smack landed squarely on your rear, causing you to jolt up and squeal with surprise. “Belle, I asked you a question – are you purposely trying to make me lose control?”

The tiniest shrivel of restraint in you knew that you should stop things there. Apologize and tell him that you didn’t want to take things to the next level. Despite how dangerous everyone made Clavis seem, he wouldn’t take things this far if you didn’t want to. You knew it was wrong, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. A feeble yes fell from your lips as you hid your face between your covers. 

“Good girl,” he smirked. “Now, for telling the truth, why don’t I make you feel real good tonight?” Then, with the agility you’d never expect from him, he flipped your body over as though you weighed as light as a feather. One gloved finger trailed down the plane of your cheek, and his gaze was absolutely predatory as he lowered himself to your dripping core. “I’ll make it up to you for causing you all this trouble – though it seems like what you wanted all along was my attention anyways.” 

His tongue trailed out from behind his lips, and he licked a stripe from the bottom of your cunt to the top, flicking the head of his tongue right at your sensitive peak. A strangled moan fell from your lips, and you arched up from the bed. “I’m going to need you to be a good girl and stay still,” he stated, words mumbled as he nuzzled his nose against your core and pushed down at your hips, keeping you from moving. He pursed his lips against your sensitive bud. He began lavishing it, using the tip of his tongue to trace gentle figure eights against you until you were sobbing in pleasure. The building feeling of pleasure was overwhelming, stronger than any release you’d ever had, and it seemed like he had no intention of stopping until you were cumming on his tongue.

“That’s it,” he murmured against your core, easing two gloved fingers into your eager and needy entrance. “Let go for me.” The slight stinging of his digits was reduced away by his tongue eagerly working against your bud, alternating between flicking and sucking. Then, he angled his fingers up until he found that spot he was looking for deep in your core, and you felt him smirk against you. It was unexpected, really, how quickly he’d manage to find that pleasurable spot within, but once he did he began to languidly coax your core with his fingers, golden eyes trained on you as you began gasping for breath, inching closer and closer to your release by the second.

Finally, with one last stroke, you felt your vision go white as blinding pleasure overtook your body, from your lower belly to the tips of your fingers and toes. “Nngh—Clavis!” You cried out, hips bucking from the bed so violently that all the Prince could do was hold onto your thighs and nuzzle himself even deeper between your legs. It felt like the pleasure was radiating through you for hours – though you were sure in real time it was minutes. Still, Clavis was relentless as he continued gently pressing against your sensitive bud, causing you to toe the line of overstimulation quickly.

“I—I can’t anymore--, Clavis! It’s too much! Please, I c—can’t take anymore!” You squealed, trying to press your hips deeper into the bed to escape his dexterous fingers and tongue. 

“Mm… Well, since you begged so sweetly, I guess I’ll let you have a little break before you come on my tongue against,” he drawled, licking your juices off of his lips with his tongue. 

And despite your better judgment, you let him bring you to release again, and again, and again, until the wee hours of the morning. If there was one thing you had to give to the mischievous Prince, he definitely knew what he was doing – and by the time you two were done, he had more than repaid his debt to you for that silly little prank. 

fin.

[yarnnerdally]

For our dear @venulus hehehe

Happy Birthday, darling! This was inspired by IkePri giving you your gems yesterday lolol This ended up being like 800 something words so I put some of it under the read more.

SFW, fluff, birthday shenanigans

Clavis was being more quiet than usual. That was your first clue that he was up to something. Of course, what he was up to was a complete mystery. Throughout the day all of your attempts to discern what was going on were thwarted. Heading to the kitchen? Yves whisks you away to an impromptu tea party in the garden with him and Licht. His room? Cyran escorts you to the faction room; apparently Nokto needed you for some reason (he didn’t).

It was nearly dinner and you hadn’t seen hide nor hair of your lovely lover all day and it was beginning to get to you. Taking a deep breath, you decide to go to the library. Maybe some light reading would help you get your mind off of things. You wander into the fiction section and, just as you’re about to round the corner, a piece of paper catches your eye. You pull the small piece of paper out from between two books and see on it a hand drawn picture of a rose and an arrow pointing up. ‘What…?’ You wonder to yourself as you flip the paper over. You’re unable to hold back a giggle as you see Clavis’ signature scrawl and you’re barely able to decipher it but it says ‘Find me’.

‘A treasure hunt!’ You think excitedly, flipping the paper back over. A rose and an arrow…? The message clicks and you head off to the rose garden. Of course, roses were here, now what would be the arrow pointing up? After wandering around for a minute you catch it out of the corner of your eye. Another piece of paper, pinned to the opening on the gazebo. You grin brightly and bounce over to it, having to jump a little to get the next clue down. This time there was a picture of a small table. A small table? There were many small tables at the palace. Which one could this possibly be? You begin to walk around again, mulling over places where this particular table could be.

Lost in your thoughts, you sit on the settee you had been at earlier with Yves and Licht. You were so lost in thought it took the evening breeze to alert you to the small piece of paper that was fluttering underneath a small rock on the table in front of you. You sigh and laugh softly to yourself as you pick up the paper. Of course. You lightly chastise yourself for not recognizing the table he’d drawn. After all, how many mornings did you have ‘breakfast’ with him here when you first came to the castle?

“What’s next…?” You murmur, analyzing the picture. A… flame. Just a flame. You check the back and there’s nothing. Where on earth was this supposed to bring you? A fireplace? No, that didn’t seem right. There were too many. Not even one in the lounge area Clavis and Jin tended to frequent? The idea of that didn’t sit right with you, either. There was one more place to try…

Your nose told you that you were on the right path. A light fragrance began to tickle your nose as you wander to the kitchen, a smile growing on your lips as you find various love notes (all in Lelouchian) stuck to the walls and the banister of the stairs as you progressed. While your Lelouchian skills were improving, you knew Clavis would have no problem translating them for you later. (In fact, he probably bet on it.) You eventually come to the kitchen and see a quaint table set for two, romantically lit with two slim candles.

“Right on time, my darling,” Clavis coos, sliding up next to you and wrapping his arm around your waist. A giggle escapes your lips as he presses a kiss to your temple and you turn in his arms.

“A lovely surprise. A home cooked meal from my love. And what, pray tell, is the occasion?” You ask, tilting your head up to press a sweet kiss to his jaw before he guides you to sit at the table. There is, in fact, a proper meal (with a few special touches to it) on the table, as well as a Very Interesting* looking birthday cake.  Clavis looks at you and, despite smiling, his brow furrows just a little.

“My love. Have you forgotten your birthday?” He asks genuinely, his head tilting just a little as he pours a glass of wine for you (and grape juice for himself.) You begin to laugh brightly, color rising to Clavis’ cheeks.

“My birthday is tomorrow, Clavis! Today is only the 8th!” He sighs and smiles as you come down from your giggles and takes your hand in his and kisses it gently.

“Well. It’s June 9th somewhere. So. Happy Birthday, my love.”

[chaosangel767]

Clavis Lelouch, The Jack of Spades

The following is a crack fic that was thought up with the marvelous @xxsycamore. We were discussing the similarities between Clavis and Luka (their eye color, motif of purple and the fact their initials are reversed and they are in the third “rank” ect.) We thought it would be funny if they were swapped for a day. Mo wrote the marvelous ending. I present to you Clavis stuck with the Black Army Misfits.

Go Here if you want to see Luka thrown to the Noble beasts of Rhodolite. 

Thank you so much for the fun Mo! I hope you guys enjoy! 

Characters: The Black army, Clavis, Comte, Leonardo

WC:1200 

Type: Pure Crack 

Tagging: @thewitchofbooks, @queen-dahlia, @canaria-blackwell, @kissmetwicekissmedeadly, @aquagirl1978, @themysticalbeing, @devildomwritersposts, @luvrsn, @namine-somebodies-nobody, @atelieredux, @violettduchess, @sarahann-1984, @kpop-and-otome, @citizensofcradle, @curious-skybunny, @littlewitty, @lordsisterxotome - If your name is crossed out I was unable to tag you. If you want to be tagged/untagged please let me know or fill out this form here.    

Clavis Lelouch, The Jack of Spades 

It is another normal day in Rhodolite when Clavis is approached by an unfamiliar man with golden eyes.  

“Prince Clavis Lelouch” The man confirms and Clavis nods warily. “Please only open this tonight” The man warns before reaching into a pocket and pulling out a package wrapped in purple paper and tied with a golden ribbon. Clavis studies the package carefully, turning it over in his hands. Looking up to address the man, he realizes the stranger has gone,  leaving more questions than answers. Tucking the package in his pocket, he continues on his way. 

That night, when the sun goes down and the full moon is high in the sky, Clavis pulls out the package and inspects it. There is a sender's name in tiny letters, the moonlight making it easier to read the gold ink. 

Comte St. Germain 

“What is this about?” He carefully opens the package to find a spade clip sitting in the box. He picks it up, inspecting it in the moonlight.  He stands up to find some information, but a wave of exhaustion hits him and he sits back down on his bed. 

“I guess this can wait till tomorrow” He sets everything down next to him and drifts off to sleep. 

But when he opens his eyes, he is in a completely different room… 

~~

The sound of a hamster wheel is the first sound to greet Clavis as he awakens out of his slumber. Looking around the room he can’t help the confusion at the strange surroundings, his clothes are out of the ordinary as well. Standing up, he makes his way out of the room and down an unfamiliar corridor. He takes in the sights of soldiers, at least by their uniform, walking by him. He walks into the kitchen to be greeted a tall man. 

“Morning Luka, we have a request from the soldiers for breakfast, can you help me?” Sirius asks and Clavis nods confused, slipping on an apron. Who is letting him in the kitchen? Who is Luka? 

Clavis starts setting pots on the stove, looking at the recipe Sirius pulls out, trying to follow the directions slowly as others fill the room. 

“Okay, who are you and how the hell did you burn water? The tea leaves haven't even been added yet” Ray is growing suspicious of the strange man in the Jacks’ uniform and again Sirius steps in. 

“Leave him alone Ray, honestly what is up with you and Fenrir today, picking on Luka so much?” Sirius shakes his head.

“What do you mean what is wrong with us? Luka is the strange one today?” Fenrir cuts in before Sirius shoos both of them out of the kitchen. He turns back to “Luka” and watches the way the man stirs the burned water.  Clavis silently follows Sirius’s directions, listening as intently as he can for any clues on how he is supposed to act. Where is he? Other than being at a military base, he can’t tell much else.

After helping with the dishes and cleaning up, he heads off to explore, seeing the Ace that was so skeptical, he decides to have a little fun. He walks up to him, Fenrir he thinks is his name. 

“Hey Fenrir, want to help me with something?” Clavis walks up to Fenrir with a smile, holding up a a mystery bag. Fenrir nods, a smile growing as they find the safest spot in between the buildings.  

“What are you going to do?” Fenrir asks, his eyes growing wide as a banana peel is thrown, catching an unsuspecting Seth off guard. A startled yelp is hard as he slips on the banana peel and falls, caught completely off guard. 

“You brats!” Sirius yells, having seen the whole thing, causing both men to take off running, cackling through headquarters. 

“Fenrir! What have you done, you have corrupted our lovely Luka, did you bully him into this?” Seth catches them first, rubbing his hip where he landed. Fenrir raises his hand in surrender. 

“This man approached me-” Fenrir tries to defend, only for Sirius to cut him off, pointing to “Luka” 

“You are telling me that Luka…our Luka.. threw a banana peel at Seth’s feet without any provocation?” Sirius rolls his eyes, a frown on his face. With a mutter of brats and a wave of his hand, he turns from the officers. “Back to work you lot” 

 When dinner rolls around, the officers all sneak a peek into the kitchen to watch Sirius and “Luka” work. 

"Do you guys seriously  not see anything wrong here???" Fenrir shouts, sick of the others not believing him just because of his tendencies to joke around often. The strange purple haired man just continues cooking alongside Sirius as if he had lived with them his whole life.

"Fenrir for the last time," Sirius breaks his speech to let out an exhausted sigh, "leave him alone. I don't know what's gotten into you today to bully our Luka like this but I won't tolerate it much longer."

Sirius just now notices the purple haired, golden eyed man in black army uniform dropping the whole packet of salt into the pot. Strange. Luka usually knows his way around the kitchen. The dinner turned into a disaster.  Between his cooking adventures, the training he had to do for his troops and running around causing chaos, Clavis escapes to his “room” early, but his feet carry him outside.

Clavis lets out a sigh as the moon comes out, looking up he notices that it is still full. He wished he could understand where he was, the little bit he gathered throughout the day wasn’t much help. He had no idea how far he was from Rhodolite, or how this “Luka” person acted. Walking out into the courtyard, he reaches up to play with the spade clip in his hair. Footsteps startle him out of his thoughts and he looks up to see a figure stepping up to him. 

Golden eyes that seem familiar approach him with a package and with widened eyes he remembers the events the night before.  

"Ahh, here you are. I'm sorry, I don't have much time for explanations. Take your belt and put it on”  The mystery man thrusts a package in his hands and he finds his beloved belt sitting in it. He slips the belt back around his waist before the man speaks again. “Give me the hair clip” Surprise flickers in his face as he hands over the spade clip. As soon as the exchange has been made, Clavis stumbles, using the wall to catch himself and he starts to feel exhausted. 

"Woah there." The man, Leonardo, manages to catch him before he can collapse. He shakes his head. "This damned Comte and his messes. And he says he has put his mischievous past behind him. Tsk." He leaves the man on a nearby sofa and lights a cigarillo, off to his other destination.