#ikemen revolution lancelot kingsley

[lancelotscloak]

“I don’t have a type.”

[oceannyyy]

Elbert & Lancelot 🌹🌹

commission for @ lancelotscloak

.

My commission are OPEN! more info 👉

[arthurs-puppygirl]

thanks babe

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: what they say instead of i love you.

WARNINGS: none!! :D

COMMENTS: why is everything i write for the red army?! um easy answer dont answer that I KNOW WHY i love them and i dont know the black army that well at all ok THANK YOU BYE

lancelot says “why do you care about me?” to tell you that caring for him isn’t necessary, that he doesn't need to be held, that he can bear the weight of the world. he says it to you because he doesn’t want you to get involved. if you were to be hurt, he doesn’t know what he would do with himself. he needs to be stronger, he needs to hold on, he needs to make things better for you.

jonah says “there aren’t enough strawberries on this!” because he wants you to have only the best of everything he can give. it’s a bit embarrassing to be pampered like this, and he knows you feel that way, but he can’t help himself. if you want to indulge in his favorite dish with him, it has to be perfect, just like you.

edgar says “let me hold you” because he still isn’t sure if he should. you’ve made it plenty clear that you still want to be with him, through thick and thin and anything that comes your way, but he has blood on his hands that he’ll never wash off. your acceptance, to him, is like saying “i love you too.”

zero says “please be safe” because he only ever wishes to see you smile. he knows it’s impossible to protect you from everything, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to try, from wanting to do his absolute best. he loves you so much, so very dearly, that he wants nothing but the best for you now and forever.

kyle says “take care of yourself.” he doesn’t say please because he isn’t asking, he’s demanding that you stay healthy and happy and safe, because he never wants to see you in his clinic unless it's for annual checkups. you’re the last person he wants to see suffering, the last he wants to see bleeding, the last he wants to see frowning.

[kashimalin-fanfiction]

Ancestral Blood (Ikemen Revolution)

Ray and Lancelot decide to explore the ruins of the castle in the Forbidden Forest. What they find is a locked door that only their magic can open, revealing a secret lost to time itself.

───────────────⋆⋅♠⋅⋆ ─────────────── 

The castle in the forest had been relatively unexplored for centuries. Historians were the only visitors now, going through the place in their efforts to learn more about the country's history. However, such occasions had dwindled significantly in the past century or so. Stonework in the castle crumbled, blocking off stairwells and passageways. Animals had made their homes here, the remnants of nests scattered about. But these relics paled in comparison to the slight buzz still in the air from all the crystals that had occupied the building recently - a stockpile stashed away by the former head of the Magic Tower, Amon. While Alice the Second and both armies had located the crystals and rescued Cradle from near disaster, their ambient energy still charged the very air even after they had been removed. 

It was making the hair on the back of Ray's neck stand on end. 

"I'll get this next batch." The King of Hearts, Lancelot Kingsley, stepped out from his position alongside Ray and waved his hand. With a red glimmer in his eyes, the stones blocking the top of the third floor stairwell were slotted back into place within the ceiling above. Ray watched it with a careful gaze, taking in the way Lancelot utilized his magic with little effort. 

"Thanks, King Lancelot," he said as the path was cleared, taking tentative steps up the rest of the stairs, ready to cast a levitation spell at any moment. 

The two had come into the forest to practice magic, as had become routine after the two armies made peace. However, today, Lancelot and Ray both agreed to conduct a more practical lesson, combining it with their joint effort to examine the old fortress to ensure Amon had left no other surprises. 

“The upper floor’s definitely in better condition,” Ray noted. “That makes sense, given that animals probably couldn’t get up here as easily as downstairs.”

Lancelot nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Perhaps there will be more from Cradle’s history than we expect.”

“While I would love to believe that, too, this building has definitely been ransacked before. I’m sure any thief worth their salt would have found a way upstairs, especially back then. It will be a miracle if there is anything.”

Lancelot hummed thoughtfully. “This is only a practical lesson. It’s still worth exploring.”

Surprised at Lancelot’s excitement, concealed under the guise of a “lesson,” Ray continued to follow close behind. 

They investigated old guest rooms and sitting areas, a room that must have been a library - the sight of all books either gone or torn asunder broke Ray’s heart - and a couple of bedrooms, the beds stripped down to the frames for any cloth and ornamentation of value. 

But as they walked, Ray ahead of Lancelot, he paused, staring. 

It was a door that caught Ray’s attention. 

The paint had faded with time, most likely from the broken chunk of ceiling above that now cast light upon it. It almost beckoned him closer, and Ray allowed himself to be led by the siren’s call. 

The pair of double doors was tall – imposing. While some of the paint had faded with time, the blue and gold gilding was still brilliant. A heart, club, diamond, and spade trailed down on either side of the handles, an equal balance of Red and Black. Crystals were embedded into the wood and handles, and Ray reached out to take one in hand.

And a jolt ran through his body, snapping him back. Lancelot was at his side in an instant, but Ray shook his head.

“This door is locked with magic,” Ray stated.  “It felt like old magic.”

Lancelot placed his own on as well, tracing the designs gingerly before humming in agreement. “Old magic, indeed.” He stared up at the door as he drummed his fingers against it. “It’s sealed with two different kinds, I believe.” 

“You can tell?”

“You learn to sense these things. My father’s magic and I were quite similar, but when I work with you, King Ray… it is vastly different. And this magic… feels just like both of those.” 

Ray raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“... Let’s see just what that means.” Lancelot gestured to the other door. “Time for a test. Put your hand on as well. This time, lean into the magic.” 

Still skeptical, Ray reached out, his fingers resting against the wood. This time, he allowed himself to sink into the sensation that crept along his arm, settling inside of him with a comforting hum.

“On three, ask it to open. One…”

Ray took a deep breath, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Two…”

There was crimson in his vision when he opened his eyes, letting out a sigh. 

“... Three.” 

Open. A command befitting a King resonated in his skull. It echoed powerfully, his magic harmonizing with the magic nestled within the door. 

The crystals on the door illuminated, and opened before them. A dark room lay beyond, but Lancelot smiled and stepped forward with confidence. The dim sunlight came with, shining on darkened corners. While still worn with age and time, the room had a majesty to it. 

“I do believe this room has never been explored before. I assume nobody has been able to open it.” Lancelot turned about. “This may be one of the rooms that only the first Red and Black Kings had access to.”

“What?!” Ray darted inside, casting his own ball of light – too quickly, and ambitious, as it flared up to a blinding glare, which immediately diminished when he cursed at it. 

“Patience,” Lancelot chided. “I’ll manage the light.” With ease and poise worthy of his many years of practice, he split his ball of light in two, casting them to each side of the room. 

They illuminated a pair of desks, facing one another. They were well-structured and elegantly carved, matched by two chairs that had seen better days. Fraying rugs covered the floorboards, with gaps visible here and there from age and decay. 

“A study, then,” Ray said aloud, taking the time to head over to the desk on the right. Curiosity got the better of him, and he started tugging at the drawers. Pines from quills and unopened ink bottles greeted him, along with a few yellowed pages in a more archaic form of their current language. Deciding to not parse them right now, he placed them on the desk and intended to keep going when Lancelot called out. 

“King Ray, come here.” 

The hitch in his voice made Ray pause, head shooting up to look. Lancelot was starting to step towards the back of the room, a seating area accompanied by two couches and a low table. However, that was not what had caught his interest. 

Ray hurried to join him, and his gaze caught the edges of gilded frames. Paintings.

The building had been ransacked over the years time and time again, so the thought of discovering anything new sent a shiver up Ray's spine. 

One ball of light moved closer when beckoned, and Ray and Lancelot stared up at the paintings.

While grime and dust coated the surface, the works of art had not lost their brilliance. They were taller than either man, declaring to the whole crumbling hall that they were the most important figures present. 

The man on the left had a stern gaze, light brown hair trimmed short and framing brilliant blue eyes. His chin was held aloft, proud and poised. 

But the painting on the right was much more interesting, due to the people that stood before it. 

"... That is the spitting image of you, King Ray."

Even when Lancelot whispered those words aloud, Ray could not believe it himself. A mischievous emerald gaze stared out across the room, but to Ray it felt as if he was looking at a mirror. It was as if someone had planted it here, for him to find. 

“... Must be a coincidence, a trick of the light,” Ray said, realizing his mouth was dry as he tried to speak. “There’s no way.”

“All kinds of things are possible given how long Cradle has been established.” Lancelot stood firm on his stance, still casting glances between Ray and the painting before them. 

Ray shook his head, as if to deny it. However, a small spark had lit up in his heart, growing warmer with each passing moment. His magic had reacted to the door. His abilities had allowed him to open it. And now, it was his image – his ancestor – that they found in the room before them. 

He reached out a hand to touch the painting, fingers barely grazing the surface out of fear he might damage it. Staring up at the figure once more, he could almost imagine what this man was scheming behind those glittering eyes. Surely, something that his brother would sigh and complain about. 

Lancelot left Ray a moment, pacing the room and casting more lights to illuminate the space. It was probably more brilliantly lit than it had ever been before, and revealed how truly ornate the room was. 

“This must have been their study,” Lancelot said aloud, having most likely come to the same conclusion as Ray. “Of the two kings of Cradle.”

“To think they used to work together like this…” Ray trailed off as he finally turned away from the paintings, staring out at the room before them. “When history tells us they fought against each other, but there was a time they worked together.”

“They were brothers.” Lancelot now went towards the desk on the other side, opening drawers the same way Ray had done minutes prior. “But we can certainly assume this room has not been opened since they parted ways.” 

Ray’s eyes widened. What Lancelot said was most likely true – the door had not obeyed when it was only his magic. It only reacted when both of them had opened it together, willing their magic to unlock the doors. 

“... So that makes us distant relatives?” Ray asked, a teasing tone to his voices, his eyes glittering the same as the painting behind him. 

Lancelot turned, chin raised high in perfect profile with the other painting. “So distant that it is barely worth a mention. You are no family of mine.”

Ray laughed then, grinning wide. “It has been centuries. But still, what a discovery. We’ll have to tell Blanc about it when we get back. This is amazing.”

“It truly is.” Lancelot gathered a few documents he had found in his hands. He doubted they would be worth anything of value, but any history from before the brothers’ war was vague at best. “Well worth our time today, indeed.”

[honeybyte]

waltz !

[mxrmaid-poet]

the way lancelot is looking at him is insane 😭 there’s a glimmer in his eyes that r like “choke me, daddy”

bro prolly wants to make him more mad so he can see that expression again

[midwinterrmemento]

good afternoon, let’s talk about this official art again

[lichtluv]

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐲...

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

~ 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙩 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙙𝙗𝙤𝙖𝙧𝙙.

[lancelotscloak]

𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭.

© oceanny_

❌ PRIVATE COMMISSION, PLEASE DO NOT USE OR CLAIM IT AS YOUR OWN ❌

[ikemen-trifecta]

I'm very proud of the last one. –Edi

[conjunction-of-crows]

Oh wow, I realized I never posted this! This is a compilation of some of my favorite love interests from video games. Most of them are some sort of dating sim primarily, but we've also got some games where it's not the main focus of the game but still an element of it.

[ikemen-obssessed]

it’s been 5 years and i still get tears in my eyes whenever i read this

[nan-chi]

Happy birthday, Lancelot ❤️

[xxsycamore]

requested by @rene-frog ❤ Hope you like it!

[ 🌈 part of the character x character or genderbent!character x mc requests🌈 ]

For Different Universe, Same Love content creation challenge, hosted by @queengiuliettafirstlady and me.

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐔 ┅┅┅Lancelot x Jonah

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲

"Serving you is loving you, my King. Don't worry about me."

They do say that the Queen of Hearts becomes a different person around Lancelot. A smile that can make flowers bloom, honeyed voice; sharpened attentiveness... Yet Lancelot knows there's more behind that smile - something painful and bittersweet lingering beneath the surface. He's never been the one to mask his emotions all that well.

"Nonsense. You don't have to pretend you don't want our relationship officialized. Cease talking like an underling, Jonah. I've already told you how much more you are to me."

A system built on ages-old values and principles, the red army forbids the higher ranks from getting involved among themselves because of it potentially getting in the way of their respective duties. With the Clemence family already in the works of finding a suitable partner for the noble-blooded Queen, the secret love between him and Lancelot seems more and more ill-fated by the second.

The hitching breath inside Jonah's chest is all too obvious when Lancelot gets up from his chair to stand up tall in front of Jonah.

"If I have to dismiss you from your position, so be it. Nothing is getting in my way of making you mine, Jonah. No matter what anyone has to say about it."

The impact of Lancelot's words usually makes people feel those fright-born shivers all the way down their toes; for Jonah, it's the kiss that followed. A mere shadow of lips over his own, barely there, yet making their presence known. A comforting kiss. The caress of a mouth that Jonah cannot live without. A reminder of having to fight for what you love.

With new determination gleaming in Jonah's amber eyes, his gaze rises to meet Lancelot's again - and finds the man wearing a content smile.

"You'll always be my one and only Queen of Hearts."

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