#ikepri x oc

[littlekohai77]

They're so dang cute what 😭😭

[lorei-writes]

Eidetism

Chevalier; Chevalier x OC (OC Chart: Esther) Smut Word Count: ~1.5k

Double smut for the price of one? I really love how this turned out in the end. A lot of thought went into this. :)

In short: the advantages (or troubles) that come with eidetic memory.

Contents: masturbation; marking, vaginal intercourse, mirror sex

Esther reaches for him despite the trembling of her hands. Her fingertips glide across his skin, trace his jaw, neck, to then map the outlines of his torso with the diligence of a true cartographer. It is as if she wanted to etch the image of him into a part of herself, to stash away this iteration of him in the safety of her mind. Brazen when in this state, she props herself on her elbow, to too mark him as hers… Her teeth graze his shoulder as her hand stops at his pants. She unbuckles his belt before reaching inside. And he lets her.

Those dreams, those pesky dreams that simply would not leave his head.

Chevalier turns onto his back, an upset sigh rippling the otherwise stationary air of the quarters granted to him. He stretches out his legs, the tension in his muscles feeling oddly comforting, much unlike the too empty bed and the too warm, or perhaps too cold, sheets. He breaths in deeply, quietly sulking over the absence of a certain familiar scent. His eyes shut by themselves.

Not a dream, but a memory; a fraction of a second stolen from a better day, the image of her lovingly spent smile, of her dishevelled hair and fiercely coloured roses blooming underneath her skin. Time does not follow the principles of physics in this realm, not when he is both the master and the slave, the yearning that claws at him stirring the most incomprehensible of desires in his loins.

Chevalier grunts, the very thought of revisiting the happenings of many nights prior a cacophony reverberating through his body. He frees himself from the duvet, the cooling effect of the night air hardly soothing his agitation, never mind easing the partially engorged need in his pants. He clicks his tongue… and gives in to the temptation. Chevalier thinks and lets his thoughts lead, his eyes closing for his mind to take him where he’d rather be.

Her body is properly flushed, from her face down to her shoulders and chest, a faint dusting of freckles adorning her lovely skin. Chevalier lowers his head to her collarbone. He plans to sample her, to caress her until her presence of mind deteriorates and it is only him that still lingers in her thoughts. Intentions are feeble things, however; her fingers find purchase in his hair, her nails scraping against his scalp just lightly enough for it not to hurt. She urges him to look at her, at her unfocused eyes half-hidden behind her lids, at lips that are much too soft not to be kissed. He needs to devour her before she devours him, not even fully aware of the threat she poses.

“Chevalier…” Esther whispers, his name an urgent plea. He presses her body into the sheets, but she is the one who allows it. Always allows it.

The nightly chill has faded. It is not in his nature to daydream yet he refuses to surface from the memory, the shallows surrounding the reality appearing rather treacherous. Almost mechanically, Chevalier pushes his pants down to release his hardened shaft. He grips it.

He can taste her on his lips, feel her body struggle against his as she writhes below him. Scent of lilac wafts from her hair, fresh and delicate, with a hint of floral sweetness. It electrifies his nerves. It is hardly like him to be this swayed, but he does give in and claims her breath, his tongue seeking hers with the urgent ferocity of a man possessed. He is precise; he shall not lose the sight of his objective, regardless of the circumstances at hand.

His throat feels mildly dry. Nevertheless, he does not stop the movements of his hand – up and down, Chevalier gradually increases his pace until he reaches a satisfying rhythm. The reality is of little importance right now.

His teeth rake down her neck. Esther shudders, her warmth turning scalding as crimson marks scatter over her skin. He sucks hard at her collarbone, hand brushing against the side of her breast; he cups it to then tease her nipple. Chevalier takes the other one in his mouth, but it is brief, his attention already moving towards her midriff. She’s gained some body back, and he cannot – or much rather, is unwilling to – wither the desire to cover it in his loving bites. Her impatience is palpable, however. Esther grips his shoulders.

Chevalier lets his head fall back against the pillow, a semi-transparent drop spilling from the tip of his shaft. It moistens his length, but he thinks nothing of it. Chevalier slows down a little, unconsciously drawing the moment out. There still is more of the memory for him to see. There… is no rush.

He looks up at her when she cups his cheeks. Esther doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t suppose she is exactly able to; regardless, it would be superfluous. His lips soothe the mark just below her navel while he considers her request. He’s feeling generous enough to at least let her try, so he pushes himself up and stares down at her, awaiting a reply.

Esther reaches for him despite the trembling of her hands. Her fingertips glide across his skin, trace his jaw, neck, to then map the outlines of his torso with the diligence of a true cartographer. It is as if she wanted to etch the image of him into a part of herself, to stash away this iteration of him in the safety of her mind. Brazen when in this state, she props herself on her elbow, to too mark him as hers… Her teeth graze his shoulder as her hand stops at his pants. She unbuckles his belt before reaching inside.

And he lets her.

And he would let her again.

It is obvious she is initially lost. Esther knows neither how to hold him, nor how much strength to apply. However, she looks at his stoic face with those mellow dark eyes that can see him far too clearly – and whatever it is that she can read, she learns from it, until she needs no further instructions…

… and, were his hands not so rough, perhaps he could pretend that it was indeed her who pleasured him…

… and she discards her sight. Her lips seek his, over and over again, until he has no choice, but to push her back down, to her imminent discontent. Whatever he’s conquered, she now demands twofold for herself; lust whets her avarice, he – the sole object of her hunger. Chevalier positions himself between her legs and she hooks them behind his back, attempting to pull him closer, but… it occurs to him just how stiff her hips are. He clicks his tongue.

Liar.

Liar, although an honest one.

He pulls back from her. Esther cannot seem to comprehend why. She attempts to protest against his decision, attempts to chase after him and anchor him to herself, but the clumsiness of her movements only solidifies his judgement. It takes perhaps seconds; he reaches for a pillow, throws it towards the middle of the bed, and flips Esther onto it, to lay her on her stomach. Chevalier kneels over her legs.

“Cheva –” she’s meant to inquire, his name melting into a moan as he thrusts into her. Esther writhes below him, but does nothing to escape his relentless attention, even her arms refusing to support her weight. Utterly helpless, she grasps at the sheets and her knuckles turn white, whiter still the deeper their bodies join. Her back aches to arch.

Chevalier’s lips grow pale from how hard he purses them. His face is strung, thin layer of sweat covering his brow. He cannot stop now. No matter what, he cannot stop; not when his body demands he ceases to breathe for the sake of its own momentary bliss, not when he himself is too weak to refuse the relief. He strokes himself faster, faster, firmer —

— but he does know what he is searching for, he —

His fingers tangle in her hair, tame it to then leave it resting over her shoulder and expose the nape of her neck. Chevalier leans forward, his weight pressing her into the mattress. Esther groans when he bites her ear and —

She sees him in the mirror, exactly as he has been seeing them. He holds her gaze, smug against her surprise, any initial embarrassment she has felt giving way to lust. Esther dares not look away. Not even when her core begins to spasm.

His body jerks as lightning runs across his spine. Chevalier grunts, his hips jolting to aid his hand, his movements becoming all the more erratic. He is there, almost there, almost… He lets the image of her searing gaze burn the last of his reason away. His seed spills over his stomach.

In a few breaths, he will be able to think again. That, however, is of little importance.

***

Enough time has passed for the air of his bedroom to begin settling down. Nevertheless, they still stay as they were, hand in hand and fingers entwined. His weight holds her down, but Esther doesn’t seem to mind; in fact, it is almost as if she preferred this state of affairs. A crease forms between her brows when Chevalier pulls away from her, even if just to feather kisses over her shoulder.

“Give me a moment. It’ll spill out,” she mumbles out, his lips pressing against the side of her neck, cheek, temple.

“Am I not crushing you?”

“I like it.”

Perhaps he can stay a little longer then. Mildly unsure of what exactly he should do, he just allows himself to rest against her body. Esther hums in contentment. She squeezes his hand.

“The towel…?”

“On the bedside table.”

Esther nods in reply. “And…”

“Yes.” That is what the mirror is for. The reason for anything else she can figure out on her own.

You've seen a typo? Please, tell me!

Tag List is disabled for suggestive content and smut.

I personally don’t feel comfortable tagging people under the occasional suggestive / smut stories I write. I hope you understand.

[dicenete]

One Thousand (and One) Kinds of Kisses

"Don't be afraid… If I have learned something from people around you it is that… 'Beloved' is your true name and it will be your name."

An entry I made for @flash-exchange 's In a Flash Creation Challenge :3

Licht Klein from IkePri and my IkePri OC Aino ^^ I did as minimal shading as possible and played with filters and other layer properties to get the lighting effect ^^

[tenmasumeragis]

Officially married 15.8.2024 💍

Commissioned an art for their recent marriage!

Art © dskfnsjds @ twitter (seriously please check them out)

[ana-thedaydreamer]

Happy Birthday Prince 💙💙💙

I made a short story that I'm very excited to share 😆

And 5th March is also my Ikepri Aurora's birthday 💖

[violettduchess]

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

My OC Leyla Quinn x Silvio, established relationship

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

WC: 1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck staying focused.

“Don’t care.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey Silvio?”

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

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

“Guess who loves you.”

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

“Goddamnit, sea witch, why–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

@keithsandwich @ikeprinces-stuff @bestbryn

[keithsandwich]

Bonus post to include my Maeve.

[aquagirl1978]

Meet my OC: Charlotte (IkePri)

Name: Charlotte Lelouch Paired with: Chevalier Michel Relationship: romantic Age: 27 Hair Color: dark red Eye Color: hazel green Birth Sign: Aquarius

Early Life

Charlotte came to live at the Palace in Rhodolite at an early age. Her mother, Clavis' sister, passed away when Charlotte was very young. With her father not in the picture, the now orphaned Charlotte moved into the palace to live with her aunt Leticia and cousin Clavis. Clavis and Charlotte were the best of friends, with Charlotte following her older cousin around and getting into trouble with him.

Incredibly intelligent and kind hearted, Charlotte was much like her cousin down to the matching birthmarks below their mouths. The one glaring area where the two differed was on their relationship with Chevalier.

Charlotte often acted as a buffer between the brothers. Clavis, never wanting to be alone with Chevalier, brought Charlotte along with him to make things more bearable. Chevalier, who tolerated so few people, allowed Charlotte to remain as, in his words, she, unlike her fool cousin, knew when to stay quiet.

After the death of the former queen and her aunt, Charlotte's future was unknown, until Sariel agreed to let her stay. He reasoned that it would be detrimental to her to remove her from her closest living family member.

Childhood Friends

When they were young, Charlotte had a somewhat distant, but respectful, relationship with Chevalier. She would remain (mostly) quiet in exchange for borrowing books from his library. They would sometimes read together, with minimal words exchanged. She was in awe of Chevalier - his genius, his grace, and as she got older, his looks. She never understood why Clavis hated him so much, and perhaps a part of her tried to get closer to Chevalier to improve their relationship.

There came a time in Charlotte's education when she, to put it nicely, outsmarted the palace teachers. Sariel was at a loss as to what to do with her - being the hellcat's cousin, no one wanted her as a student. That is, until the second prince agreed to be her tutor.

From that day on, they would spend time in each other's room studying together. Chevalier was impressed with her intellect, and found her thirst for knowledge refreshing. Unlike her cousin, she was not obsessed with besting him and was therefore able to focus her attention where it mattered.

It was during these study sessions when Chevalier first noticed he was experiencing strange feelings. They weren't unpleasant, a bit bothersome if anything. Over time, he grew accustomed to them, so much so that he even enjoyed these new feelings. He knew then it was time for him to stop being Charlotte's tutor.

Dating Chevalier

Now we get to the anti-climatic part of this story. I don't want to put anything here, because this is where it gets fun - flirting and kissing and teasing and more - and I have fic ideas planned for their dating journey. I'm gonna kinda just end it here, if I don't I'll ramble on until I can't write anymore words on this post. Charlotte has lived in my head for close to three years now, and I have a lot of stories in my head. Some I might share, some I won't.

On that note, I do welcome any and all asks about her, about her relationship with Chevalier and Clavis and anyone else in the palace. I will be reblogging OC ask games moving forward - always feel free to ask about her. I also have a modern AU for Charlotte and Chevalier which deviates greatly from canon. I might actually be more invested in that one, as I have far greater creativity there.

I also had so much fun working on this for Charlotte, that I have created another OC, this one for Ikemen Villains, and I hope to have her page up soon.

[wistfulwanderingone]

(Cassandra's Point-of-View)

Meeting in the Moonlight

Fandom: Ikemen Prince

Characters: Clavis Lelouch, Cassandra (OC); Clavis X OC story AU

Tags: SLOW BURN, fluff, romance, Meet Cute, Humor, Intrigue

Summary: A young noblewoman Cassandra, seeking refuge from the womanizing antics of Prince Jin, finds herself on a darkened balcony with a mysterious prince with a captivating laugh. Their unexpected encounter leaves her both flustered and intrigued, sparking a enigmatic and promising connection she can't ignore.

Word Count: ~3000

Timeline: 4 years after Bloodstained Rose Day, 6 years before the "Belle" year.

A/N: Introducing my new OC paired with Clavis Lelouch, Cassandra, who has been carefully crafted for him specifically. (More details at the end of the post).

And stay tuned for Clavis' point-of-view soon!

@dododrawsstuff @aide-falls You will hopefully enjoy this!

Meeting in the Moonlight

As Cassandra rounded a corner in the palace hallways, she came to an abrupt halt, instinctively stifling the groan that threatened to escape—a habit ingrained by years of her parents' insistence on perfect composure and the suppression of 'unrefined' sounds. With a lollipop dangling from his lips, Prince Jin swaggered down the hallway ahead of her. 

Not only had her friends Yves and Licht warned her about Jin and his notorious 'womanizing' ways, but she had also seen it firsthand in the few months since she had become a regular visitor to the palace. To her, he was the absolute worst. Without a second thought, she darted into the nearest room, the heavy door closing with a soft thud behind her.

The room was spacious, adorned with elegant furnishings and opulent decorations, but she barely noticed. Her eyes quickly locked onto a balcony, its ruby curtains billowing softly in the night breeze. In a few swift strides, she crossed the room, stepped outside, and drew the curtains closed behind her. Holding her breath, she peeked through a small gap to watch the door. The last thing she wanted was to deal with Jin. In her eyes, he was a good-for-nothing philanderer with an unfortunate weakness for women who, like her, were amply endowed.

Memories of her first encounters with Jin flooded back, leaving her feeling exposed and uncomfortable. She hated feeling that way—like a prize to be ogled rather than a person to be respected. She had enough of that in her day-to-day life. To her parents, she was nothing more than an accessory to their social standing, not a person with emotions and dreams. Every aspect of her life was meticulously controlled, from her attire to her behavior at social gatherings, all orchestrated to enhance the family's reputation. Her every action was to be a symbol of their success, a means to display their impeccable breeding and influence. They dismissed her feelings, desires, and aspirations as inconsequential. In their eyes, Cassandra existed not for her own sake but as a tool to further their prestige, a polished gem meant to shine in the public eye without ever revealing the turmoil and longing within her heart. What she truly longed for was passionate freedom and the ability to pursue her aspirations and dreams.

Tucking a strand of chocolate-brown hair behind her ear, she pressed herself against the wall to one side. The sensation of the cold stone against her back did little to calm her disquiet; however, the darkness of the balcony offered a temporary sanctuary, giving her a moment to gather herself and regain her outward poise.  She closed her eyes briefly, breathing in the solitude like a candle flickering in the wind, grasping a moment of stillness before being snuffed out. 

"Are we playing hide-and-seek? Or are you here for a more intimate rendezvous?" a deep, husky voice whispered against her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

She gasped and spun around, stumbling backward and nearly tripping over her own feet before colliding with the balcony railing, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

Obscured by the dim light, a dark figure stood before her. Her thoughts spun. Who was this man? Had he been here all along? How had she not noticed him before? 

"I apologize for startling you. I was only teasing," the figure asked, his voice a warm, reassuring tone with a musical lilt that seemed to dance in the air. Are you alright, young lady?" The concern in his voice and the soothing tone dispelled the remnants of her fear.

"Yes, I’m fine,” she replied, smoothing her skirt. “I was just hiding from…” She paused and squinted, straining to pierce the thick veil of darkness that enveloped the balcony. The moon, hidden behind a dense shroud of clouds, offered no illumination. Shrouded in darkness, the figure was a mere silhouette, an indistinct shape blending seamlessly with the shadows. “What I mean is I didn't want someone to see me."

"May I ask who? I'll need a name if I’m to be a gentleman and defend your honor.” His words seemed genuine enough, but at the same time, his tone dripped with mirth, adding an enigmatic edge that piqued Cassandra's curiosity, making her want to know more despite the rather odd situation in which she found herself.

Usually, she would hold her tongue and hide the real reason for her hiding, crafting a socially acceptable excuse instead. But there was something about this man—his playful tone, an underlying laissez-faire that made her want to confess the truth about her actions and share what was on her mind.

She turned and peeked out the curtains again to ensure they were still alone. "I’m hiding from that big creep, Jin," she confessed.

The figure chuckled a rich, inviting laugh that made her smile as she turned back around. It was the most wonderful laugh she had ever heard, immediately chasing away all her remaining inhibitions. 

"You know he's a prince, right?" he asked, and she could still hear breathy laughter in his words.

"Just because he's a prince doesn't mean he isn't a huge creep!"

"Be that as it may, he's still a prince," he said, stepping closer. Though his features remained hidden in the shadows, the faint glint of sensual golden eyes flickered like distant stars barely breaking through a stormy sky. That and his sudden proximity made her heart pound in her chest, and each beat echoed like a drum in the quiet night. She wanted to step closer and unveil the man behind the silhouette, but the instinct to retreat and maintain the safety of her anonymity held her back.

"Well, if the crown's crooked, I'll call it like I see it." Typically, she kept thoughts like that to herself, especially around strangers. Who knew who might overhear and report back to her parents about her supposed 'disgrace.' But for some reason, she had said it anyway, and for a brief moment, she almost didn’t care.

Another velvety, irresistible chuckle, one that she wanted to wrap around herself like a blanket. "Unfortunately, there are laws against speaking about princes with that kind of language." His voice was hypnotic, and she felt herself grin, a small rebellion against her earlier fears. 

"I'm pretty sure 'creep' isn't on that list."

"But...are you certain?" His suddenly grave tone was starkly at odds with the playful one that preceded it.

"Well, no, but..." Her voice faltered as she peered into the shadows, unease growing within her belly. "Are you a guard? Are you going to report me? Or...hand me over to Prince Jin?"

"Now, that would be amusing.” His smooth and enticing chuckle resonated through the night. “And if there's one thing I'm all about, it's finding every bit of amusement life has to offer."

Panic seized her, and she contemplated fleeing, her muscles tensing as she stepped back. But before she could run, his hand shot out, staying her with a gentle but unyielding grip. The warmth of his touch radiated through her, causing her heart to flutter wildly despite the fear coiling within her.

As he took another step into the light, her hand flew to her mouth, and the royal crest of a prince gleamed faintly in the moonlight, its significance striking her like a lightning bolt. Dressed in shades of white, gold, lavender, and purple, he was a vision of princely elegance. His uniform framed his tall, elegant form, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders and the lithe grace of his every movement. The moon bathed the balcony in a silvery glow, highlighting the regal contours of his figure. The broad belt cinched at the waist accentuated his waist and narrow hips while emphasizing his broad shoulders. His gloved hand, still holding her arm, was both commanding and gentle, a juxtaposition that sent a shiver down her spine.

His ashy purple hair was perfectly tousled in a way that was somehow both elegant and rebellious. Each strand shimmered like spun lavender in the moonlight. Her green eyes widened, taking in every detail of his chiseled features—the sharp, angular jawline, the faint shadow of a dimple that played at the corner of his mouth, and the small beauty mark under his lip that drew her attention to a mouth that held a perpetual hint of a playful smirk. It was a face that could both disarm and enchant with a single glance.

But it was his eyes that truly captivated her. Golden and mesmerizing, they seemed to shimmer with a thousand quips and secrets, each one more tantalizing than the last. Those eyes, framed by long, dark lashes, locked onto hers with a magnetic pull, inviting her into a world that promised freedom and adventure far beyond the constraints of her current life.

His very essence seemed to radiate a blend of charm and an underlying current of untamed spirit. And it all made her heart race, and an inexplicable feeling welled within her. The scent of night-blooming roses mingled with the cool, crisp breeze that caressed her skin, and for a heartbeat, perhaps two, time seemed to stand still. She was utterly entranced, caught in the spell woven by his golden gaze and the ethereal glow of the moonlit night. The intensity of the moment was almost too much to bear. Yet, she longed for it to never end, to remain forever in the thrall of his mesmerizing eyes and intoxicating presence.

He withdrew his hand, and the smirk on his lips widened, and she knew her reaction amused him. "Third Prince, Clavis Lelouch, at your service. The most charming of all the princes," he said with a bow.  His velvety laugh resonated in her mind, stirring unfamiliar emotions once more. The warmth of his touch on her arm still lingered, and she could feel herself being drawn even deeper by undeniable allure.

"You're... a prince?" she stammered at last, her voice barely above a whisper. A fresh wave of heat blossomed on her cheeks, leaving her flustered. His presence, so strikingly handsome, charming, and rebelliously intriguing, made it difficult for her to think straight. "I...I didn't mean to offend...I mean, I didn't know..." Each word felt heavy on her tongue, her composure unraveling under his intense gaze. She felt exposed, every insecurity magnified under the golden glow of his eyes. Yet, something about him made her want to linger in this vulnerable state and explore whatever made her feel inexplicably drawn to him despite it.

"Oh, don't fret, dearie." Clavis waved away her concerns with a playful grin. "You've added quite a delightful twist to my evening. It's not every day one encounters such refreshingly candid commentary on royalty."

Cassandra blinked, trying to process his words. "You mean...you're not going to report me or hand me over to Prince Jin?"

Clavis chuckled. "Report you? Hand you over to Jin? What would be the fun of that? No, I'd much prefer to keep this enchanting encounter our little secret." He placed a gloved finger seductively over his pursed lips. “Wouldn’t you?”

Her gaze drifted to his lips, her thoughts instantly consumed with imagining how those soft, plush lips would feel against hers. He lowered his hand, smirking down at her. Realizing where her gaze had wandered, she bit her lower lip, trying to hide the rush of heat that flooded her face.

Clavis's grin widened, a mischievous light dancing in his golden eyes. He leaned against the balcony railing, his posture relaxed and inviting as he signaled her to step closer. With a playful tilt of his head, he asked, "So, tell me, what exactly did Jin do to earn the title of 'creep' from you?" 

Cassandra hesitated, suddenly feeling acutely self-conscious. She glanced away, her eyes lingering on the moonlit garden below. "He's just...he makes me feel uncomfortable. I try to avoid him whenever I can."

"I see.” Clavis's expression turned thoughtful. “And it would appear you have a talent for discovering intriguing hiding spots. Perhaps you might consider inviting me to join your little escapade next time." As he spoke, he reached out, took her hand, and gently drew her closer.

Cassandra's heart lurched a sudden, breathless moment where the world seemed to narrow to the space between them. The heat radiating from his body enveloped her, the intoxicating blend of lavender, earth, and burnt sugar that clung to him, grounding her yet sending her mind spinning. His hand, warm and firm around hers, felt like an anchor in a storm she hadn't realized was brewing within her. His words echoed in her mind, absurd and impossible, yet they lit a fire deep inside her, one that whispered of the wild freedom she craved. The idea of an escapade with him was reckless, preposterous even—but the irresistible pull of his presence made her yearn to throw caution to the wind and follow him into the unknown.

Her pulse quickened as the weight of his suggestion settled over her, the conflicting emotions swirling within her, threatening to overwhelm her senses. She knew she should refuse, should step back and put distance between them, but the idea of pulling away felt like tearing herself away from something vital, something she had longed for without even realizing it. The words to decline stuck in her throat, tangled with the unspoken desires she was too afraid to acknowledge.

"I... I don't think that's a good idea," she finally stammered, her cheeks flushing with a deep, fiery blush.

Clavis raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying her flustered state. "Oh? And why not?"

"Because... because you're a prince, and I'm just... me," she replied, her voice faltering as she struggled to find the right words, feeling her awkwardness intensify under his amused scrutiny.

Clavis's smile softened slightly, his eyes twinkling with amusement and an emotion she couldn't quite place. "Titles are just fancy hats, ‘Just-Me’. It's the head and heart beneath that count."

Cassandra couldn't help but smile at his whimsical words. He reminded her of those bewitching characters in children’s books who spoke in riddles and rhymes, drawing her into a world of enchantment. A gentle warmth unfurled within her. It was as if he had touched a part of her soul she seldom revealed

"Thank you, Prince Clavis," she said softly, the magic of the moment lingering in the air. "I should probably go now."

"As you wish.” Clavis straightened up, his posture becoming more formal, yet his eyes still gleamed with mischief, and his hand still held hers. “But before you depart, it seems you neglected to give me your name."

Her cheeks reddened again, and she inwardly berated herself for blundering further in front of a prince. "Cassandra Bellerose."

A soft smile graced the prince’s lips as he bowed. “Ah, Shining Beautiful Rose. How befitting.” He looked down at her hand, cradled between his own, his long lashes grazing his cheeks as he gently brought her knuckles to his lips. The tender kiss was a soft, lingering warmth against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine and setting her pulse racing. Half-lidded in the moonlight his golden eyes held hers with a gaze that shimmered with unspoken promises.

She returned his bow with a graceful curtsy, her mind swirling in a dreamy haze as he finally released her hand. The loss of his touch left her fingers tingling, a ghostly reminder of the connection they had just shared. Words eluded her, her tongue tied by the rapid beating of her heart and the fluttering sensation in her belly.

Clavis lingered for a moment longer, a playful smile tugging at his lips.“Until we meet again, Lady Cassandra, and we most assuredly shall,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, as if sharing a secret. Then, with a light chuckle, he stepped back, holding the curtains open for her. The fabric brushed against her as she passed, the soft whisper of silk adding to the surreal, almost poignant feel of the moment. His scent, a lingering mix of lavender and something darker, more mysterious, clung to her senses, wrapping around her like a warm embrace.

As she exited the room, Cassandra leaned against the closed door, trying to steady her breathing. Her pulse was still racing with the thrill of being near him. Every heartbeat seemed to echo her excitement in Clavis's presence, his confident grace and playful glint awakening something deep and unspoken within her. The warmth from his kiss still lingered on her hand, and the memory sent a delicate shiver through her.

Her gaze drifted over the palace hallway, her mind consumed by thoughts of Clavis Lelouch—a man who could easily turn her world upside down. Every detail of his face was now etched in her memory, the tempting pull of his presence drawing her into the intoxicating blend of charm and mystery he exuded. His captivating laugh echoed in her mind, a sound she suddenly longed to hear again. That laugh, that gaze, and his very being seemed to call out to her, offering a taste of the freedom and passion her heart had always craved.

The spell was cast, and she knew, with a trembling heart, that Clavis Lelouch was unlike anyone she had ever met before or would ever meet again.

---

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this first taste of Clavis and Cassandra's story. I have most of it planned out and lots written. It is a slow-burn, angsty romance, be warned. I will post a main landing page for their stories next, followed by a Clavis point-of-view!

Pairing Summary: Cassandra never expected her first encounter with Clavis to awaken a longing for freedom and adventure she’s always kept hidden. As their worlds collide, she finds herself irresistibly drawn to his untamed spirit, a force that promises to shatter the chains of her carefully controlled life. For Clavis, what begins as a playful curiosity soon turns into something far more serious as he finds himself captivated by the one person who sees beyond his mischievous facade. As their story unfolds, two hearts grapple with the freedom they both crave—yet fear to embrace.

[ikeprinces-stuff]

What happened after she played for him: ✨❤️

“You better be grateful it’s your birthday, 'cause if it wasn’t, there’s no way I’d be letting you pull this off...”

“If I'd known, I would've made every day my birthday!”

“Yeah, right, keep dreaming.” (⁠◔⁠‿⁠◔⁠)

(BACKGROUND BELONGS TO CYBIRD IKEMEN SERIES)

OC taglist: @dododrawsstuff @aquagirl1978 @violettduchess @lorei-writes @the-bird-and-the-flute @fang-and-feather @reborn-elven @solacedeer @candied-boys @bicayaya @the-bird-and-the-flute

(TELL IF YOU WANNA BE ADDED/ REMOVED FROM THE LIST)

[fang-and-feather]

Ikemen Prince - Leon x Carina - Star gods AU

(more like a fusion, I guess, with Ikemen Prince characters and mixed worldbuilding)

Words: 2,188

Summary: Chosen by Belle, Leon was crowned king. Now it was time to send Carina home, but Leon had fallen in love with the human princess, despite the rule that forbid a relationship between them, and he had to chose between his love and his duty, while facing the decision Carina made herself.

In the future I will both write the sequel and prequel to this scene. I like how the worldbuilding of this one went.

This is not a birthday fic, but I fifnished it today so: Happy Birthday Leon!!

IkePri Masterlist / General Masterlist / Read on AO3

Leon stopped in his tracks as he caught sight of his reflection in one of the palace’s windows.

He didn’t look like someone would expect of the King of the gods. He always had this image of the King as this being beyond all concepts other gods were bound to. But now he was the King, and he didn’t look different from before he was chosen. No different from when he was human.

Well, he looked different from when he was human, in the sense that he lost the visible marks of the suffering he’d gone through. And the stars in his eyes, the only visible sign he had become a god.

And now the change in the constellation was the only sign he had become king.

A human-turned-god becoming King, sounded a little too far-fetched, but by the tradition, Belle had chosen him, and some could complain, but Leon knew he had worked hard to even be a candidate for the title, including abandoning part of his sense of self to take over the place of the young god of Leo.

Speaking of Belle, he had stepped out to find her.

Nobody knew what caused the start of a new king's selection process, but it always happened during heaven’s rift, an event that happened every few thousand years. Leon hadn’t even been a god long enough to see the previous one.

Heaven’s rift, though, didn’t always meant the choosing of a new king, only when it coincided with the blooming of time’s beauty, a unique heavenly flower, and the awakening of a new Belle, a pure-hearted human woman, chosen by the rift to select the new king.

The current Belle, Carina, had chosen him, and now that he was the new king, it was time to send her home.

But Leon had a problem that maybe made him a bad king already, for he had broken an important rule. Gods were forbidden to nurture romantic feelings for humans.

But Leon had fallen in love with Carina in the short time she spent with them. And it wasn’t because Carina was the reincarnation of someone he met in his human life. Someone he had loved then. But by who this Carina was.

She hadn’t doubted they were gods even before witnessing their powers. She had accepted her role and taken it seriously from the moment Sariel brought her to the palace that served as the gods’ headquarters on Earth during the king's selection. She hadn’t let their differences prevent her from treating them with kindness and friendship, as best as every individual would allow for. And she didn’t let the way she was treated by some of the others bring her spirits down.

And besides that, she was an adventurous girl, enabling his escapades, eager to show him around, while taking him seriously when needed. And she didn’t look at him any differently when learning of his past, not as a friend and not as Belle.

But although they became fast friends, she took her job seriously. Some might say otherwise, but she did not choose him because of these things they had in common, or because she thought he was the most human of the gods. And definitely not because she loved him, although Leon was confident she did.

Him having brought her for the coronation was already a questionable decision that, surprisingly, his brothers, and even Sariel and at least one of the other “princes” didn’t complain and the other was calmed surprisingly easy.

Of course, as king, he had the power to change the rules, but although he didn’t know why, these rules were there for a reason and his personal feelings shouldn’t come before the balance of the world.

There was another solution, but he couldn’t ask it of her.

Leon found Carina where he expected, in the gazebo in the garden, talking to Maeve, the wife of the nature’s god, Keith.

The two women were talking and laughing like old friends, and Lein smiled at the sight. He wasn’t the only one Carina had made fast friends with. Not the only one who would miss her.

It was hard for him to control his new abilities and not overhear their thoughts. And maybe he couldn’t shut it down, just distract his thoughts.

Was that how the King seemed to always know everything? Leon always thought it was something more like what Chevalier was capable of.

He would hate it if he couldn’t turn it off, but at least for now, he found himself managing to divert it.

Maeve saw him first. She said a few last words to Carina, stood up and bowed to him with a smile, before leaving.

Carina smiled at him and patted the now vacant spot next to her.

“You really managed to charm so many gods in your brief stay here. If I didn’t know better, I would think you have some sort of power.”

“I like to think love has some kind of power.” The two sat there in silence for a while, Leon noticing Carina didn’t act any different around him. She just smiled, watching the sky, sitting comfortably around him. “You can see so many more stars from here than even the clearest spot on Earth. Do you have new constellations too?”

“One for each god, that is reflected in our eyes. So many that even we can track all of them. Although I can see every individual one a lot clearly now.”

“I wish I could see it.”

Leon looked at her. Although the protocol was to erase her memory before sending her home, maybe he could give her a last, unforgettable sight. A sort of happy dream.

He stood up and extended a hand to her.

“Do you want me to show you?”

It reminded him of the first few days of Carina as Belle, when she caught him sneaking out of the palace and he invited her along. Back then, she had hesitated and questioned him. Now, though, she didn’t even stop to think before placing her hand on his and letting him pull her along.

They looked at each other and shared a smile. Leon pulled her to him and held her tight, stopping to feel her heartbeat speeding up. He chuckled and gave her a questioning glance, to which Carina nodded.

He remembered how bewildered she was when he first took her to the sky like this, a bit afraid to find herself floating all the way above the city, but wonder had won in the end.

Now she was calm, staring at him more than the sky, at least until they were high enough that everything below looked indistinguishable in the dark of the night.

“Do you trust me?” Leon grinned at her.

“Always.”

“Then close your eyes.”

Leon snapped his fingers - he didn’t even know if he needed to anymore, but it was a habit at this point - creating a carpet of clouds she could stand on, before releasing her. Then he placed a hand over her closed eyes and snapped his fingers again.

“Open them and look up.”

When she did, she opened her mouth, eyes shining like a little kid’s.

It was one of the things he loved about her. Carina found such wonder in everything. Things Leon took for granted, and even things humans found pretty normal.

“Do you always see the sky like this?”

“From now on, I guess. I’m not used to it myself, but it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Carina nodded.

“And a little overwhelming. Each constellation has its own glow that makes you see them individually! Do you know which constellation represents which god?”

“Only the ones I know personally. Maybe this will change, or maybe being king doesn’t mean being as omniscient as the former king felt like. And I would rather not be.”

“I imagine.” Carina laughed. “You always liked being closer to people. And that’s part of what will make you a great king.” Her gaze wandered back to the stars, falling silent once more, before finally pointing at a constellation to the west. “If I had to guess, that one is Maeve’s constellation. And Prince Keith’s is the big one close to it.”

“You are sharp.” Leon ruffled her hair. She was absolutely right. Thinking about it for a moment, he snapped his fingers, creating a couple of pieces of chocolate. “Here’s your prize. Although I know now, it’s not as good as handmade chocolate.”

“It’s not bad either.” Carina laughed and gave him a playful courtesy before accepting the sweet.

“It’s fine. But it’s so small.”

Leon laughed at the way Carina pouted, messing her hair even more.

“How about a game? Can you guess the others’ constellations?”

She pointed right at Yves’, Licht’s, Rio’s and his old one that had lost part of its shine. That one gave her pause.

“The constellations with faded glows… is it because of the war?”

Leon nodded solemnly. Before she was chosen as Belle, the gods had fought a hard battle against an invasion of dark gods. A war that hadn’t ended, just been postponed. And that was a reason Leon had hoped to be king. He hoped to find a way to put an end to this vicious cycle.

Just like he had fought when he was human. Just like Carina’s past self had fought.

No. He shouldn’t think of her. Not with Carina by his side.

But Carina couldn’t be by his side for much longer, either.

He was taken out of his thoughts by a hand wrapping around his.

Carina looked up at him with concern in her gem-like eyes. But Leon immediately grew concerned with her. Her touch was a little too warm, and when she closed her eyes tightly, he knew she had been in contact with his powers way too long for a human.

He freed himself of her touch, to cover her eyes with one hand, while raising the other, ready to snap his fingers, but Carina wrapped both hands around his.

“I have to take my power from over you before it burns your soul.”

“Are you sure that’s all you will do?”

Leon sighed. He had actually planned to alter her memory and send her home. He couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye, and knew she would try to stop him.

“I could steal you away. Take you in so many adventures… but I have a duty here, and you have a life to go back to. It is a miracle our worlds touched, and I will always treasure the time we had together.”

“Why do I feel like I won’t have the same privilege?” Carina asked in a heavy voice. “It’s not fair!”

“I want to know that will be happy.”

“Then don’t send me away! You can fool my mind, but even gids can’t manipulate emotions like this. My heart will never forget. How do you suppose I will be happy while loving someone I won’t even remember?!”

Leon sighed. He knew love was important to Carina. But there was no other option where both of them would be happy.

“You know gods and humans can’t…”

“Then make me one of you. Maeve said only the king can do that, but you are the king now!”

“And did she tell you what would happen to you?”

“Everyone I ever met on Earth would forget me. Which is the best way to part, if I have to. They won’t have to miss me or wonder what happened.”

“But to give away your relationships. Your family. Your identity…”

“I know how these things are important for you, but there will be nothing given up about my identity. Even if I married a human, I would still find myself pretty distant from my family, and I don’t have that many other relationships to lose.”

“You have no idea what it’s like to live, maybe forever, remembering everything you left behind. Watch it pass by…”

“Outliving someone you love is no different if you have to do so for ten years or ten thousand. Same goes for living away from these people. And I will have you for the same eternity, so I won’t be lost.” Carina sighed, finally releasing his hand. “Please, Leon. Is letting me go really what you want?”

Leon couldn’t contain it anymore. He snapped his fingers, removing his aura from her, before pulling her for a kiss.

Carina looped her arms around his neck, but her movements were slow and weak.

Their argument had dragged on for too long. Thankfully, not to the point it could kill her.

“What will I do with such a daring, stubborn star?” Leon scooped her up.

“You love me like that,” Carina replied in a whisper, snuggling up to him.

Leon hummed in accordance as he transported both of them back to the palace.

When she recovered, he would take her out and actually tell Carina he loved her. His life and even his mission would be better with her by his side and, in turn, he would make sure she never regretted choosing him.

Tag List: @2-lines-and-a-circle, @queengiuliettafirstlady, @nightghoul381, @eventinelysplayground, @bicayaya, @keithsandwich

If you want to be tagged/untagged on future writings, you can reply to this post or send me a message

Hope it tagged everyone properly...

[littlekohai77]

The way I'm trying to make her buff but I suck at drawing muscles 😭😭😭💀💀💀

[nightghoul381]

A day late for Brazil's Valentine's Day but I updated and colored this picture that I made for @keithsandwich I hope you like it as much as the original sketch!

[tenmasumeragis]

|| Silvio x OC, please skip if you are averse to it!

Very belated post for Silvio's birthday 🥲 happy birthday you jangly heartthrob 🫵

Art commissioned to _rzr11 at Twitter!

[drachonia]

𝐜 𝐮 𝐫 𝐬 𝐞 𝐬 .

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: This fic is a bit experimental, but the idea sort of came to me all at once and I felt compelled to get it down. got inspired by @venulus' content creation challenge that's going for a few more weeks. Hope you enjoy a little slice of my brainrot. also crane wives slaps. have more content of my lil' knight girl, noele and how sappy she secretly is. <3.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: established relationship, comfort, mild body dysmorphia, and my weird perspective/tense-shift.

Every time I used to open my eyes to you in the morning, seeing that content expression while you’re dreaming, I couldn’t help but wonder…What do you see in me?

I’m not extraordinarily beautiful, I have more bulk in my arms and shoulders than half the princes I know of, and yet, every morning without fail—

“Mnn…good morning.”

That voice slurred with sleep, those wine red eyes that sparkle in delight as they focused in on me. You wholeheartedly kissed every old cut, every old scar, every beauty mark…loved all of me.

And I love you every bit as much. Why else would I continue sparring? Keep up with the happenings across borders? Keep your attention and that sweet smile that you show on me and me alone? I don’t like saying the circumstances of our meeting were due to fate. I fully believe something in me clawed through life to get to your side.

I found myself a love that adores every disheveled, angry, and selfish part of me, and makes me feel like those parts are extraordinarily beautiful.

“Noele?”

A voice snapped the knight out of her daze as she shot up in bed next to Nokto, “Hm?”

“Did the palace hound zone out on me?” He teased, grinning and tucking a fluffy tuft of fringe behind her ear.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She growled, leaning in and stealing a rather insistent kiss. Nokto only pulling away to get his answer.

“Hmm…I think someone is avoiding the question.” He huffed against her neck, running his nose over the curve of her jaw as he spoke, “Now do continue I ask nicely? Or do I interrogate my sweet lover?” He murmured against her ear, wrapping an arm around her back as her pulse thudded against his lips when he kissed her throat.

“‘Was just thinking how lucky I am to have found you.”

Her face was rather stoic as the surprised fox pulled back with wide eyes to look at her, quietly asking for more information with a few blinks.

“You…teach me to love every bit of me that I used to hate…I’m very lucky to have dug my claws into you and not let you go.” Eventually a faint smile appeared on her lips, lifting up her cheeks and making her ice-colored eyes crinkle in content.

Blood rushed to the seventh prince’s cheeks and he embraced her tightly, arms wrapped around her…as two silver chains holding matching engagement bands clinked softly against one another.

lace headers by saradika.

[violettduchess]

A/N: The first meeting between Clavis and my OC Marigold. You can learn more about her here.

I want their stories and relationship to have a lighter, more romantic comedy feeling than Silvio and my OC Leyla. Not that there won't be moments of angst/drama but in general, I want less thunder and lightning here and instead more soft rain and sunshine.

Thank you for reading!

WC: 2.4 k

“And that concludes our tour.” 

Sariel Noir adjusts his glasses as he turns to face the young woman he’s just spent an hour with. Her wide eyes, a bright gray that reminds him of quicksilver, are still drinking in her surroundings with obvious pleasure and awe. A part of him is proud to see the effect the palace has on her, this place he pours so much of his time and energy into keeping orderly and safe. Marigold Jacobs can’t help herself. She’s visited the royal palace in Jade several times due to her father’s renown as an astronomer and Prince Keith’s deep interest in the field. It's impressive by any measure but now, in Rhodolite she finds herself confronted with the elegance that is the royal palace with its towering spires and delicate design, the breathtaking ornateness of its rooms and the richness of its very aura. Why, it takes one's breath away. She reaches up, adjusting her own round, gold-rimmed glasses and sighs contentedly.

“I really must thank you for such an informative tour, Minister Noir. And for taking the time personally to see to my room and board here.”

He smiles and it reminds her of the smooth play of a breeze over still waters. “It is my pleasure, Ms. Jacobs. We are very happy to accommodate academic endeavors and I know the king will be especially pleased that a literary historian such as yourself is choosing to dive into the works of one of our most famous writers.”

Marigold nods, feeling a warm sense of pride course through her. “I have heard he is fond of Victoria Hugo and her writing. I look forward to meeting King Chevalier when he returns.”

Sariel nods, then reaches into the jacket of his ebony coat, producing a scroll tied with a silk ribbon the color of violets at midnight. “Please take this and keep it with you when making your way through the palace. It is written permission for your use of the royal library as well as any study in which you may choose to do your work.”

“My thanks, Minister.” Marigold takes the scroll and gingerly tucks it into the woven bag hanging across her body. The bag is nearly the exact same russet color as her high-necked dress. The only splash of color she wears are the green and gold earrings her parents gifted her on her last birthday, small emerald studs that she values deeply. To her, they represent Jade with its lush greens and royal golds, a subtle way to honor her home country while abroad.

With a polite bow, Sariel takes his leave, reminding her to please let him know if she requires anything else. As she watches him go, elegant even when doing something as mundane as walking, Marigold feels fresh excitement fizzle through her body like champagne bubbles. She’s really here! In the royal palace! With complete access to all of its resources! 

She thought her room, tucked away in the western wing of the palace, was already a marvel with its small balcony overlooking the stables, the rolling fields and in the distance, the shimmering lake. But now, she stands in the courtyard at the entrance to the famous royal gardens. How can she resist a quick stroll through them before supper?

Just a walk along the path, she tells herself, just a glance at the place so many poets have written about and artists have immortalized. The scent of roses is strong, perfuming the air with their dusky scent. Marigold takes it all in, pausing to admire a topiary in the shape of a fawn, a small fountain depicting a fairy pouring water over the head of a tiny frog. Her sensible brown boots kick up small whorls of dust as she walks the dirt path. If I remember the layout correctly there should be a gazebo around here somewhere. Maybe she can find it. 

As she wanders, she notices how the hedges grow higher, past her shoulders, then past her head with its glossy, chestnut bun. They seem to be stretching up towards the sky itself, reaching their leaves up towards its robin-egg blue beauty.

So lost is she in admiring the sights that she does not notice how she has stepped off the dirt path and onto an area of green grass covered in odd patches of leaves and twigs. A particularly large hedge full of exquisite purple hibiscus has caught her eye and she walks towards it, eager to get a closer look. 

Suddenly, the hibiscus is retreating, growing more and more distant as the ground beneath her feet gives. Her world tilts and for a moment, all she sees is pristine sky. And then she is falling, falling, falling, for what feels like an eternity but is actually only a few seconds.

“Ahhhh!” 

OOF.

She hits the bottom of the ditch with an undignified thunk, sprawled out on her back, the wind temporarily knocked out of her. Gasping for the breath that keeps trying to elude her, Marigold needs several seconds to reconnect body with mind. Slowly, she pushes herself up into a sitting position. Her palms sink slightly into the dirt ground and tilting her head up, she sees she has fallen into a perfectly circular hole in the ground. With a shaking hand, she adjusts her glasses which had gone askew with the temporary loss of gravity and then with a loud groan, she stands. She rotates each foot and wrist, turns her neck from side to side. She’s sore and will likely have some impressive bruises but she does not seem to be seriously injured.

“Oh dearie me.” 

She jerks her head up to see a face peering down at her over the edge of the ditch. A man with twilight hair and eyes the color of Goldenrod is looking down at her, white gloved fingers curled over the lip of the hole.

“Are you alright?” 

She breathes out, relieved that someone arrived so quickly. “Yes, I think so.” She pats her woven bag, sending a quick prayer of thanks that she did not flatten it with her fall. Not only does it have Minister Noir’s letter, but the key to her room, her pencils and small notebook as well as her spare pair of glasses.

And now that someone is there and she knows she isn’t hurt, something else fills her: anger, white hot and blinding.

“Would you believe some idiot dug a hole here? In the middle of the royal gardens?”

The man’s smile is almost amused as he tilts his head, regarding her. “Shocking.”

A pink blush colors her pale cheeks as she shakes her head. Loose strands of dark hair escaped her bun in the fall and now flutter angrily around her face. “It is! It really is! Who would dare do such a thing? I mean honestly, it’s absolutely juvenile behavior. A ridiculous, childish prank. I could have been seriously injured! Imagine if someone much older or much younger had wandered around here and fallen!”

“Maybe they would have watched where they were going.” He lifts a shoulder, still grinning. “I mean, there was a big piles of leaves and sticks in the middle of the grass. That could have been a clue not to walk there.”

She narrows her eyes, gray as a winter’s storm. “I was admiring the flowers! And besides, it’s still a hazard!” Another thought occurs to her. “Oh! The princes are bound to be furious! Not to mention King Chevalier when he finds out that his gardens have been vandalized by some….some ruffian!”

“No! Not a ruffian!” There is amusement in his voice, so clear that it snaps her temporarily out of her rant.

“You could offer me a hand you know, instead of just kneeling there and mocking me.”

“I could.” 

He doesn’t move. He's apparently having too much fun watching her.

Marigold scowls and stares at him. Those eyes. She has never thought of anyone as having eyes that actually sparkle. It always seemed a silly, romantic descriptor…but his truly do. A light dances within their golden depths. Even more annoyed by her own observation, she wipes at her nose, leaving a charming streak of dirt across its bridge, one that nearly covers her scattering of freckles.

“Well?” She thrusts her hand up towards him. He considers it just long enough to send another flood of angry red into her cheeks before he leans down, grasping her hand and forearm. 

“Jump on three.” 

Oh, his bright eyes are so vexing. And that smile. 

“One…two….three. Now!”

She jumps and he pulls. He’s stronger than she anticipated and she might as well be part kangaroo because together they manage to get her out of the ditch in one, violent arc which ends with Marigold Jacobs landing directly on top of her extremely attractive but aggravating savior. He’s flat on his back and she’s sprawled across him like a toad that’s done a belly-flop into a mud puddle.

Again she is rendered breathless, not only by the sheer speed in which she was yanked out but by the sudden feel of the man’s long body underneath her, the closeness of his face with it’s charming beauty mark under the curve of his bottom lip, the shocking revelation of just how dazzling his eyes are. He is just as transfixed as he stares at her, his hands having moved to her waist of their own accord. Her face, though streaked with earth, is quietly lovely. A fact one may miss at first or even second glance, but close as she is now, he can see the elegant line of her jaw and cheek, the smoothness of her skin. Her lashes are dark and long. They nearly brush the lenses of her glasses and when he notices her freckles across the bridge of her nose, barely visible under the dirt, his heart skips a beat. 

“Oh no, what have you done now?”

Another voice, deep and masculine, cuts through the moment and sends it scattering to the winds like a horde of startled butterflies. Marigold scrambles off of the man with aurelian eyes, hurriedly trying to smooth down her dress and push her hair out of her face. The man is slower to stand, grinning as he faces the annoyed scowl of the red-haired man in front of him.

“I didn’t do anything. She is the one who fell into a hole which wasn't meant for her.”

Marigold tears her eyes away from the handsome red-haired man in his lavender and white livery to gasp at her rescuer. “Wait a minute? YOU dug that hole?” 

He holds out both hands and shrugs, mirth and mischief hanging on the corners of his grin.

Marigold draws herself up to full height and steps menacingly towards him. “So YOU’RE the vile ruffian who desecrated the royal gardens and then had the nerve to find it funny?” She is almost sputtering she’s so angry. “You….you pompous….ignorant, thick-headed, immature, rough-hewn churl! I’ll tell the princes what you’ve done! Let them deal with a lout like you!” She’s breathing heavily, one hand balled into a fist as she glares at him. If looks could kill, he’d have been murdered a dozen times over.

The red-haired man looks as if he doesn't know whether to burst out laughing or throw himself into the ditch. What he ends up with is a somewhat beleaguered expression, tinted with amusement.

“Ah……you should tell her.”

The man in the lavender jacket grins. “But I’m having such fun.”

Absolutely still on her anger high, Marigold spins to look at the red-haired man. “Tell me what?”

With a heavy sigh, he gestures towards the ruffian. “May I present Prince Clavis Lelouch, third Prince of Rhodolite. Or as I like to call him, the Idiot Prince.”

The….third….what….? 

Slowly Marigold turns back and then, like an image slowly and horrifically coming into focus, she notices the rich material of his clothing, the silk of his tie, the golden rose-shaped tie pin, the pristine white of his pants, the fine leather of his belts and boots. 

Oh…..no….

Wishing she were back in the ditch, Marigold drops into a curtsey, struggling to stay upright. He is a prince of Rhodolite. And she insulted him with all her furious heart. She’ll be sent back to Jade in disgrace, her research over before it has even begun. Her parents will be disappointed. Her professors will never trust her again. She’ll end up a laughing stock at the university all because she couldn’t hold her tongue.

Surprisingly gentle fingers touch her chin, asking without words for her to rise and lift her head. Clavis is standing in front of her, his touch lingering just a moment after she’s straightened up.

“You were absolutely in the right to be angry, Miss…..?”

“Jacobs,” she manages, though her mouth is dry, “Marigold Jacobs.”

“Miss Marigold Jacobs. I apologize that you were my accidental victim. This ditch was intended for one of my brothers and not you.” He lights up as a sudden idea occurs to him. “You must let me make up for it. I’ll have breakfast prepared for you!”

“Oh no,” Cyran mutters. 

Clavis is nodding even as Marigold stammers in protest. “No, please your Highness, you don’t have to go through any trouble because of me.”

He waves his hand. “It’s not trouble, it’s fun!” He’s positively gleeful. “Tomorrow morning at 8 o’clock sharp!” He looks over his shoulder. “Cyran, please fill the ditch.” He pauses. “But only this one.”

Marigold’s eyes widen. There are others…??!

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Marigold Jacobs!” He is on his way out when he stops, glancing at the purple hibiscus that caused all this trouble. He reaches up, carefully plucking one and then with a twinkle in his eye, tosses it towards her. She catches it easily and he smiles, nodding as if satisfied. “Til breakfast!”

And then he is gone. 

Marigold blinks, wondering if this is a fever dream or if this really just happened. The ache in her back and delicate flower in her hand tell her it really did. 

She insulted a Prince of Rhodolite and it ended with her being invited to breakfast. 

Not even her wildest fantasies could have dreamed this up.

She offers Cyran her thanks and is met with scowling and insults about Clavis that far exceed her own. As she walks slowly back in the direction of the palace, she glances down at the purple flower, wondering why she has the feeling that her time with Prince Clavis is far from over.

And why somehow, a quiet, whispered corner of her mind thinks that isn’t a terrible feeling at all.

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