#spring showers spring flowers

[aquagirl1978]

Hey can i please request clavis + 1+ 🌸 ?

Clavis and a picnic? Check. Kiss on the nose? Check. Clavis and his daughter? Check. Appearance by Cyran? Check. This fic ran away from me and turned into a giant grab bag of Clavis shenanigans. Thank you for the requests. I hope you enjoy!

To Catch a Leprechaun - Clavis Lelouch (Ikemen Prince)

A/N: Part of my New Year New Celebration event and the Spring Showers Spring Flowers event I am co-hosting with @violettduchess

Pairing: none (Clavis as a dad fic)

Prompt: kiss on the nose and picnic

Tags: fluff

The sky was clear blue; the sun was high, shining bright. There was not a cloud to be seen on this picture-perfect spring day. In the Rose Garden, a father and his daughter sat, enjoying a picnic.

“Tell me more, Daddy,” the little girl asked, her purple pigtails waving freely as her body shook with laughter.

Clavis beamed, proud to tell a tale to his child. He clasped his hands and cleared his throat. “Then let me tell you about the Legend of the Leprechaun.”

The little girl sat captivated as her father spun a story while she snacked on the many treats spread out on the picnic blanket. Her eyes grew wide as saucers as Clavis reglaed her with tales of the mischievious leprechauns, fairy folk whom humans have so rarely seen firsthand.

“Have you ever seen one, Daddy?”

“Me personally, no. But I have heard,” he said, leaning in as if sharing a secret, “that there are some that are hiding here in this very Rose Garden. But the only way to see one is to catch one.”

“And what happens if you catch one, Daddy?” she asked.

“Well, that’s the best part, my dear daughter. If you are lucky enough to catch a leprechaun, they have no choice but to grant you three wishes. If he wants to be set free.”

The young child looked up at her father, mischief mirrored in her amber eyes. “You want to catch one, don’t you?” Clavis asked.

She quickly nodded, her expression quite serious. 

Clavis dipped his head to meet hers; their face so close, their noses almost touched. “I’ll have you know, I have spent years perfecting the Lelouchian trap. And I think this is the year we will catch a leprechaun.” When a small smile spread on his daughter’s lips, Clavis pressed a kiss on the tip of her tiny nose, causing her smile to widen.

“I just need a few more items to finish the traps. Do you think you could help me find those items?” She nodded silently, eager to set the traps and catch a leprechaun. She listened intently as Clavis rattled off a small list of items which he claimed were absolutely necessary if they were to catch one of these wily folk.

They quickly packed the remaining food into the basket and folded up the blanket they were lying on. The princess ran throughout the gardens, on a mission to find the needed items.

In her haste, she ran straight into a familiar red-headed solider.

“Hey, what’s the hurry, Princess?” Cyran asked as the tiny figure crashed into his leg.

“I’m helping Daddy,” she replied, out of breath. “Do you happen to know where I could find….a dandelion….a pine cone….and some honey?”

“That’s a rather random list of items.”

“We’re  trying to catch a leprechaun. Daddy said these items are best to help lure one into the trap.”

Cyran looked over the girl’s shoulder, watching Clavis in the background, presumably inspecting his traps. “I have a mischief maker of my own I’d like to trap,” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that?” she asked, looking up at the soldier innocently. 

“Ah….there’s some dandelions over that way,” Cyran pointed out, quickly changing the subject.

“Thank you,” she said, curtseying before running off in search of dandelions.

The sun was beginning its descent when the young princess returned to her father, her hands filled with various items.

“Excellent!” Clavis exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. He collected the items from her arms, examining each item he picked up. “These will do perfectly!”

With mischief alight in his amber eyes, Clavis headed towards a nearby trap. Turning his head, he winked at his daughter. “Come along, we have some traps to bait.”

The young girl skipped along, eagerly following in her father’s footsteps. 

“Would you like to do the honors?” Clavis asked, holding out a small bouquet of dandelions.

“Why yes, I would,” his daughter accepted, curtseying before gingerly taking the bouquet from his hands. She crouched down on the ground and placed the dandelions under the propped box. 

“Hmm….do you hear that?” Clavis asked, his hand cupping his ear. “I think we might have bagged one early!”

The girl gigglged with glee at the prospect of actually catching a leprechaun. Father and daughter joined hands and ran towards the noise.

Clavis stood over the pit he had dug earlier, peering down at its new resident. “Well, well, isn’t it my lucky evening!”

“Get me out of here, you fool!” Yves screeched. “I swear Clavis - !”

“No need to get feisty,” Clavis mock-scolded, cutting of Yves. “I’ll send Cyran around to help you out.” Yves scowled at Clavis, his expression marring his beautiful features, while mouthing an obscenity and making a rude gesture with his hand. 

“If you don’t mind, I’m on a mission to catch a leprechaun and have some more traps to set.” He placed a gentle hand on his daughter’s shoulder, his coat billowing in the breeze as they walked away, the screams from Yves growing fainter and fainter the further they got.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @alixennial @rhodolitesroseforclavis @atelieredux @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @ikehoe @ikemen-writer @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @altairring @lucyw260 @lordsisterxotome @violettduchess @jet-ivory @bellerose-arcana @yarnnerdally @crypticbibliophile @scorchieart @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @midnightarxsia @wordycheeseblob @wendolrea @aceuuuu

[pieground]

Butterflies

Theo x Reader

In participation to Spring Showers Spring Flowers CCC hosted by @violettduchess & @aquagirl1978.

🌼 p r o m p t ╎gardens

🌼 w . c o u n t ╎1k.

🌼 g e n r e ╎fluff

You hate butterflies.

God, you hate them so much. So when one decides that you look like a good flower to land on—as much as you appreciate the sentiment, you let out a shriek loud enough to send the birds from nearby to fly away. And it doesn’t stop there, the butterfly of course wasn’t aware of your dread; it intends to land on its chosen flower. So what’s your only option? Run. And so the garden was filled with petrified cries and sounds of things being run over, it came to the point that Theo couldn’t take it anymore so he left his beloved stack of pancakes in the dining room and went out to the garden where he found you running for your life causality of a little white butterfly following you. He could only sigh at your tear-stained face. Seriously, you live in a mansion filled with vampires, and yet what made you cry is a small innocent insect.

“Oi, stop barki— hey!” Before he could finish his words, you were already running towards him and in an instant, he had a bad premonition. Look at the way you’re running, your legs look like they're ready to give up. He considered getting out of the way, whatever you’re doing, you can do it alone. But you could hurt yourself if you continue running like this. With his mind made up, he prepares himself, he has to catch you and stop you from your game of tag with a freaking butterfly then he can return to his pancakes at last. It’s just that what he’s not prepared for was you tackling him down, sending the two of you falling on the ground and knocking over the wooden tubs filled with both water and clothes along with you.

He was ready to blow off and chastise you for basically everything but the sound of your merry laughter pushed back the words in his tongue, with you on top of him, not caring about the way your hair had gotten messy because of the water or the way your clothes clung to your skin; he just couldn’t spat out any insult, not when you look so beautiful to him right now. Part of him knew how absurd the thought is, you look like a mess… but you’re having fun and the tears of fear you had earlier were now replaced by tears of laughter. So idiotic… so damn idiotic he repeats in his mind.

What a beautiful crazed fool… he thought, or maybe I’m the crazed fool in here.

“I’m so sorry, Theo. Hah!” you managed to say in between your dying giggles, lifting yourself off him and moving to the side. Theo on the other side, stayed still, slowly coming back to his senses along with his grumpiness.

Once he's back to himself, he shot up on his feet, dusting himself only to spread mud over his clothes, making him groan. “Hondje!” he pointed an accusing finger at you, “haven’t I trained you not to…” he halted, eyes sliding down to your chest, “ ...damn this. Cover yourself, will you?” he threw his coat towards you, turning to the side embarrassedly. Looking down, you found out that your clothes had become more or less transparent. No sooner than later, you too have felt embarrassed and hastily wore his damp coat.

“I’m fine now.”

“You don’t just tackle people on the ground!” he begins again, eyeing you with annoyance lacing his features. “I thought you knew that already but clearly you need to be trained. What if you hurt not only yourself but…”

A smile grew on your face. He still looks good while mad… and muddy.

Theo took this as a sign that you're not taking him seriously and he started getting grumpier.

You giggled.

He scowled, “Listen, wipe that dopey grin off your face before I do and think if it wasn’t me who caught you, or what could have happened. What if it’s a drunkard? A pervert? What if it’s Arthur? If it’s not me…”

So what if it wasn’t me? He asked himself. Not liking the way he felt his chest constricted with the thought of someone else touching you.

You sensed that he was nowhere near the end of reprimanding you so you took the matter into your own hands and when he was about to start lecturing you once again, you stepped in front of him, your hand softly palming him from the jaw and your thumb caressed the apple of his cheek, wiping off the dirt that stained his beautiful skin. Theo’s words once again died before they could be spoken. His eyes traveled from your bright eyes to the bow of your luscious lips, wondering why he had only admired them now… of how it must have felt to catch those with his. It is only then he realized the pounding of his heart and the excitement that set him feeling ablazed.

“Thank you for catching me, Theo.” You spoke with a voice so dreamy, smiling up at him before stepping away and making your way to the mansion with an obvious bounce on your steps.

Goodness, only if you knew how much control it took him not to follow you and catch you in his arms.

Man… this is bad. He talked to himself, fully aware of the stupid grin on his face.

Butterflies.

You hate those, but right now, Theo can only wonder if you have them too… And if you like how they feel because he sure does. And in case you don't, you better be prepared because with the way his mind keep flashing the image of you so close to him earlier, he's more than ready to give them to you.

[saydesole]

April 1st 🌸🐰

New month, New beginnings, New blessings 🤝🤍

[vegan-nom-noms]

Lemon Lavender Shortbread Cookies

[thoselovelythings]

[xxsycamore]

𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐁𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬. . . Blanc X MC

↬ A rainy afternoon shouldn't get in the way of Blanc's sweet teatime with Alice!

Blanc Lapin x MC (Alice) • rating: G • tags: Fluff; Rain; Tea Parties; Kissing; Magic • wordcount:  1,481•masterlist

a/n: the weather outside provoked me to start off early with the challenge 👉🏻👈🏻 this is for day 8 of Spring Showers Spring Flowers by @aquagirl1978 & @violettduchess - Prompt: Rainy Days (fluff) - special tags for @vivifucksthevillian @viohasgoneintothewoods @katriniac

"Umm, Blanc… are you sure that we should be here?"

Despite the evident concern in her tone, Alice takes another sip from her cup, enjoying her tea. This impromptu tea party came out of nowhere, but she couldn't refuse Blanc's kind offer…

She'd just come to the Civic Center awhile ago to bring Blanc his lunch, seeing as her distracted White Rabbit had forgotten it again at home… She'd made it right on time for his lunch break, but was quite surprised when Blanc asked for her company. Exiting the office in flavor of finding some place more suited for having a meal, Alice's next surprise was seeing him begin to brew tea. And then the feeling grew tenfold as Blanc began climbing the stairs to the rooftop, where the Garden is situated.

"Why yes, we're merely having some tea, I don't see the harm in that. I'd hate to get you in trouble, dear Alice, I merely wanted to enjoy your company in a place that compliments your beauty…"

Blanc stirs his tea, smiling politely and prompting her to taste the food as well. She'd made enough for him to be sated and more, and a shared meal is always a tastier meal… maybe it's because of believing in this philosophy why Alice complies and nods, returning the smile. Oh, it really is tasty!

"The table looks even bigger when the seats are empty, somehow… there's this energy about this place even when we're alone here."

Blanc hums approvingly, gracious even in his chewing. He pats over his mouth with a handkerchief, manners on point as if this really is one of those special meetings of the top officers of the two armies. Their respective flags waver slightly in the wind, standing proud on their tall poles on either side of the table.

"Aren't you feeling calm in my company, Alice?"

The question gets her off-guard, the tea cup trembling for a second in her hands. She takes another sip.

"Uh-huh! I do. Thank you for bringing me here, it's not every day that I get to enjoy tea in such a place!"

While admiring the scenery, Alice notes how the grey clouds overhead add to the beauty of it, instead of ruining it, strange as it is. It's a pretty unique feeling. Gray days are almost never pretty, but from up here it's different. The budding nature enveloping the Garden adds enough color to contrast with the sky, and the temperature is not unpleasantly low at all. It's a typical spring day.

Well, it wouldn't be one without rain. And so the rain arrives.

Plop.

"Ahh, a raindrop fell into my tea… Haha…"

Blanc's beautiful white lashes flutter and show more of the pretty color of his peach-colored eyes behind the lenses of his glasses, as his attention is drawn to the cup, after Alice's comment. He's quick to react, much to Alice's surprise, as he jumps to his feet and opens his coat to reveal a foldable umbrella… so he predicted that this might happen?

"This is no ordinary umbrella, Alice. It's one of Oliver's newest inventions, you see. I think today makes the perfect chance for us to put it to the test."

Alice blinks but is just as curious as Blanc appears to be, scooting closer to his side. Of course Oliver makes poor Blanc his test bunny that is supposed to report obediently afterwards… she can only hope the invention is harmless. Considering how much of Fenrir's infamous guns are created where this umbrella came from…

"We unfold it like this, and the magic crystal in the handle does the rest of the job!"

Blanc explains, giving himself an aura of someone who knows what he's doing. Fortunately, it goes as he says, the crystal starting to shine as the umbrella is unfolded… and it starts to grow?!

The fabric held on the metal rods stretches out until it reaches the size of a sunshade, like the ones that can be seen in one of those cute outdoor cafes in central.

"Are those… balloons?"

The worries about Blanc suddenly having to hold the weight of that large thing start to disappear as Alice observes dozens of detached balloons inflate under the umbrella, making it float graciously in the air.

"Ahh, good, it didn't fly away! Oliver's main concern was that the balloons would either be too few or too many for its mass. As always, his calculations are top notch."

As more raindrops fall, Alice feels the need to snap out of her awe and take refuge under the parasol, along with her tea cup.

"And now, we can resume our tea time."

Blanc looks at Alice and they exchange a sweet smile. The food is finished and put away, and the rain becomes but a soundtrack to the tranquil afternoon.

"Ah, Alice, please come closer. I don't want the rain to get to you, and besides, you must be getting cold."

Blanc is… offering his lap. True, the parasol is large, but Alice really does feel the raindrops hitting her arm occasionally… oh well. Maybe it won't hurt, just this once.

"If you'd excuse me…"

Ah, this is bad. Her heart is going to explode, and her lips are remaining on a thin line as she attempts to drink as if nothing is happening. The lukewarm liquid is touching her mouth but she can't take in anything, fairly sure that she's going to choke the second she does.

Blanc is warm, especially his arm that wraps around her waist. That's why the invention is so clever, leaving him with two free hands… It's convenient for holding her in place, and nothing more of course, the gentleman that he is. Alice tries to concentrate on anything that is not him, in order to keep her sanity.

Nearby, the blossoming trees are standing tall in the spring shower as it starts to fall with more vigor upon them from the skies.

"Aww, I feel bad for the little buds. They're so fragile, and the rain is so strong."

Blanc follows her line of sight, chuckling softly. The sound of his laugher is more prominent when she's that close, and it sounds way more melodic too.

"They're going to be alright. Nature has its ways. Besides, they're just like you."

"?!"

Alice turns to look at Blanc, not realizing how he'd leaned closer to see better. Their faces are millimeters apart.

"Fate gave you strong rains, yet you held your head high and blossomed after each one. You're strong, Alice. And beautiful, too. You bring spring to Cradle."

Each word makes Alice's head spin more as she finds herself lavished with sweet words… she knows Blanc means each one of them deeply, his usual gentlemanly smile looking a tad more serious now. She's going to explode if he doesn't kiss her right this instant.

"Can I kiss you?"

Yes! Yes!

"Please."

Blanc's chuckle is barely audible, but she can feel it as he presses his lips to her. First, the stretch of his mouth in that sweet smile, then the parting of his lips. She eagerly answers, melting into the sweet-tasting kiss.

Blanc's lunch break draws to an end, much to their dismay. Raindrops start to fall seldom from the skies, like spring showers do, and Blanc outstretches an ungloved hand beyond the margins of the parasol to check. He then folds the umbrella, but still hurries inside with Alice, tea set safely collected as he insists he could take care of that.

"Ahh, I still worry about raindrops getting on the frames of my glasses… Do you think I can ask Oliver to create mini-umbrellas for them?"

Alice lets out a snort that grows into audible laugher, imagining how silly it would look like… but if she can find something charming in that, then the inventor surely wouldn't, and it won't go without some rude remarks. But oh well, maybe the kind heart he hides somewhere deep within would dictate the words "Fine, you stupid rabbit, ridicule yourself if you want to, I'll see what I can do."

"Anything that prevents you from taking off your glasses to wipe them and thus leaves you vulnerable is a good idea, Blanc…"

Going down the stairs with Blanc, the record keeper suddenly stops and looks and looks at her.

"I don't mind the rain, if it makes my dear little blossom show her beautiful, true colors."

With a finger behind his lips, a silent gesture to shush her, Blanc joins his colleague Mousse who seems to have used his own lunch break to its fullest, relishing in his favorite pastime of napping. At least that's what the lines on his face tell. Maybe Alice can too use a nap right now, because all that happened this afternoon felt like a dream, and it was one that ended too fast…

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @animeworldsposts @randomanimatedhusbandoseeker @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @pro-cat-stination @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @canaria-blackwell @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @tiny-wooden-robot @joy-the-reader @ikemen-writer @tele86 @psychodreamer666 @cilokgoang @moonstruck-writing Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[thatbrownchic]

Take my hand, hold my waist, tuck my hair behind my ears and call me "Basanti".

🌼🌻🍃

[hairtusk]

i blog for the women who are slowly figuring out how to live their lives without fear and self-inflicted suffering, and feel joy at sudden interruptions of beauty in the quotidian

[violettduchess]

A/N: Spring Headcanons with the Ikevamp men who won the polls (and Faust. Just because.)

An entry for @aquagirl1978 and my Spring Showers Spring Flowers CCC 🌷

Suitor x f! reader

Word Count: 2485

Leonardo: Gardens

Everywhere. You’ve checked everywhere for that man of yours and he is nowhere to be found. Not his bedroom. Not the kitchen. Not the sitting room. Not your room. You’re standing, hand on hip, wondering where on earth he could be when your attention is momentarily caught by the bright beam of sunlight streaming in through the window. Sunlight. Blue sky. Light spring breeze. Ah….of course.

He’s just where you thought he might be: asleep under the protective branches of the large oak tree at the far corner of the mansion property. Of course he took advantage of the weather to find a spot to settle in and nap. You kneel onto the soft emerald-green grass, then lean down until you’re right next to his ear. “Leonardo….” you murmur, voice sing-song and warm. “Time to get up.” One golden eye opens and when he sees it’s you, his face is awash in the sunshine of affection. 

“Cara mia,” he says sleepily, voice rough with the leftovers of his nap. He reaches out one arm, urging you to lay down against his side. “C’mere,” he purrs and you find yourself yielding to his warm embrace, to the soft grass beneath you, to the faint scent of smoke and parchment that surrounds you as you lay your head against his shoulder.

“We have to get ready,” you sigh even as you snuggle into him, his arm tightening around you, holding you close. “Mm hmm,” he answers, clearly not in any rush to go anywhere. His fingers find the back of your neck and begin stroking the soft skin there, rhythmic and soothing. “Just a few minutes then,” you murmur as your eyes close, your body relaxing as your mind sinks into the simple pleasure of his touch. He turns his head, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Relax, tesoro. We have all the time in the world.”

Comte: A Walk in the Park

It’s a breezy spring day in Paris. One hand is pressed to the straw hat resting atop your head, keeping it in place as the wind continues to try and flick it away. The other hand is intertwined with Comte’s as you continue your walk through the park. 

He laughs out loud as his tie is flipped up and into his face, the wind brazen as it continues its playful attack on you and all the others adventurous enough to be outside on such a blustery day. Glancing at you, he nods his wind-tousled head towards a copse of trees, stalwart and brave as they stand tall against their elemental counterpart’s mischief.

“Let’s go!” And together, still clutching each other’s hands, you veer off the path and toward the trees, the wind tugging at your skirts, pulling at his jacket and finally, in one gigantic, triumphant burst, snatching your straw hat right off your head just as you duck into the safety of the arboreal protectors.

“Oh no!” But you’re laughing as you push your hair out of your face, patting at the space where your hat once sat. Comte is laughing too, one hand reaching out to cup your pink cheek, his expression bright and tender. “We’ll get you another, ma chérie. Ne t'inquiète pas.” You smile and he can’t help himself as he leans down and presses his lips to yours, knowing you’re well hidden from any prying eyes. You respond immediately, melting into his embrace. The leaves above rustle as the wind sweeps through them, amused. It may have won the battle for your hat but you certainly don’t seem to be suffering for the loss.

Faust: Green Grass

The field stretches out before you, an endless sea of bright green dotted with bursts of colorful meadow flowers. You adjust your grip on your wicker basket before walking toward the next cluster of bright blue blossoms you are supposed to be collecting for Faust. You kneel down, being very careful as you reach out, taking hold of the delicate petals, each one round and veined with pale lavender, and slowly pluck them, one by one and set them in the basket with the others. He had explained how the petals needed to remain whole and be plucked right at their base.

As you concentrate on removing each petal, you can’t help but remember why you are both here: the little boy with the wide eyes at the church who had shown Faust his hands, red and cracked and painfully itchy. He explained they always got this way when the weather turned and wondered if he had maybe done something wrong and God was punishing him and could the Father help him?

Faust had reassured the young boy that he had done nothing wrong and that there may be a more secular solution to his problem. The blue flower you are so fastidiously undressing of its petals is a part of an experiment Faust is conducting on creating a cream that would use the plant’s natural ability to neutralize skin irritants. Hope springs eternal as you add several petals to your basket. If anyone can help the poor little child, it’s Faust. You just know it.

What you don’t notice as you go about your work is how he has finished with his cluster of flowers and has crossed the thickly carpeted grass back to where you are still kneeling. He watches you, sharp eyes missing nothing, noticing the care with which you are following his instructions, the diligence in which you have worked, your basket more than halfway full. Your fingertips are stained peacock-blue but you still keep on working, expression serious and concentrated. He watches you in silence for several minutes as something warm blossoms inside him, his heart unfolding in the sunshine of his feelings for you. He walks over to where you are, leaning down to place a hand on your shoulder.

You turn, breath catching in both surprise at his quiet arrival and at the sight of him, eyes like dusky springtime, soft in a way only you know. He reaches for your hand, pulling you slowly up and then continues to raise your hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss into each stained fingertip, all the while holding your gaze captive with his. 

You smile slowly, head tilting as you regard him lovingly. You know exactly what he’s doing and so you answer his unspoken words: “You’re welcome, Johann.” You take a step towards him, sliding your free arm around his waist, your hand and his pressed between your bodies like a promise. “You’re welcome.”

Isaac: Rainbows 

The rain is lazily slowing down, more and more time lapsing between the small drops which now glisten in the emerging sunlight. You take a step away from Isaac, holding your hand out from the protection of the bookstore’s striped awning where you two took shelter from the sudden downpour.

 “It’s stopped,” you say as you turn to look at him over your shoulder. His hair is still damp with rain and his clothing covered in dark, wet patches. But you’re smiling at him and he has to return your smile. It’s a law of nature. One of the many he discovered after he met you.

He takes your outstretched hand and together you step out into the freshly washed world, carefully avoiding larger puddles, as you make your way back home. You’re chatting happily to him as you walk over the wet gray cobblestones, your fingers interlaced endearingly.

Suddenly your flow of chatter stops with a gasp. “Isaac! Look!” Just ahead, arching over the wide stone bridge that stretches across the Seine is a rainbow, a perfect curve of bright, joyful color, stark against the robin-egg blue of the sky. Isaac nods as he takes in a breath of cool air. “It’s always been fascinating how a simple optical phenomenon such as the refraction of light...-“

He’s cut off by your finger pressed against his lips, his cherry blossom eyes widening in surprise. You offer him another smile, this one softer than before, before turning around, snuggling with your back against his chest and pulling his arms around you from behind. He embraces you, although his head is still tilted slightly in confusion. Why did you stop him from speaking?

You sigh contentedly, leaning your head back against his shoulder. “Isaac.....isn’t it simply....beautiful?” And then he understands. 

The lens of science drops and he focuses on the feel of you in his arms, your warmth and softness, the sweet smell of your rain-damp hair, the simplicity of just….being. He pulls you a bit closer, his lips curved in a smile, the beauty of the rainbow echoing the happiness in his heart.

Vlad: Fairy Forest

Gripping Vlad’s hand, you step carefully over the uneven ground, listening to the sound of leaves and small twigs crunching under your boots. A blindfold really wasn’t necessary, you think as he leads you down a small incline. It’s dark enough in the woods that you doubt you could see anything without a lantern.

“Just a few more steps, my love.” But then you hear his voice, the smooth, gentle roundness of his accent, and you squeeze his hand, allowing him to continue guiding you. You love him so much, your trust in him is rocksteady. The night air feels cool on your face as you feel the ground even out, the leaves and snapping twigs dispersing to reveal something smooth and flat underfoot. Vlad moves behind you, trailing the back of his fingers over your soft cheek. “Ready?” You nod and he reaches for the bow at the back of your head, undoing the crimson silk binding.

What you see in front of you sends your heart stumbling forward, the air momentarily trapped in your throat as you gasp. You’re standing in a small clearing in the forest. Strands of small twinkling yellow lights have been interwoven through the dark branches, casting a warm glow over the area. In the middle of the clearing Vlad has set up a tent, already alight from the small, pink lanterns carefully placed inside of it. He motions for you to follow as he walks towards the tent and lifts the flap to reveal an oasis of pillows in all sizes and fluffy blankets as well as several piles of books. 

And in that moment you remember how you told him, one morning snuggled close together, about the reading nook you used to build when you were a child, a blanket hung over two chairs, you tucked underneath, surrounded by small electric tea light candles. How you’d pretend you were in a magical forest, in the perfect spot to lose yourself in words, the perfect spot to release the magic you always felt when reading. 

“Vlad….” You don’t have the words to express how surprised you are, how utterly unexpected all of this is. How shocked you are that he remembered the details of that cold, winter morning conversation. The questions he had asked about what that perfect place would look like today. The details about light color. Tent size. And now it’s here, right before your eyes. Brought to life by the man who fills your heart with magic every day.

He ducks down, holding out his hand which you promptly take and follow him inside the soft rose-colored light of the tent. He leans forward, tying back the flap so you can still see the fairy lights glowing among the tree branches before leaning back, stretching out his long body and propping himself up on his elbow, his smile warm and inviting. “Read to me, beloved?”

Arthur: Spring Fling

The garden party is in full swing. Guests in their spring finery laughing and drinking sparkling drinks out of crystal flutes. You walk among them, your petal-pink skirt swishing pleasingly around your ankles. The sky above is changing her gown from bright afternoon sky to the dusky-hued lavender blues of evening. Sebastian is discreetly lighting the candles you and he had placed around the garden earlier that day.

You make your way back to the table where you had been chatting with Dazai before getting up to refill your champagne. He’s flittered off somewhere by now but you’re about to sit back down anyway and people-watch when you notice your yellow cocktail napkin has been folded into a perfectly-shaped butterfly. The sight of it sends a thrill through you, a cannonball of excitement and expectation. You know what this means.

Lifting your glass, you drain its contents before setting it down, lifting the napkin to wipe your lips before you begin winding your way through guests. Comte and Leonardo are engaged in conversation at the edge of the garden and don’t notice as you pass them, making your way down the path that leads back toward the mansion.

The inside of the manor is darkened. Everyone has everything they need outside after all. But still, you’re careful. No need to attract attention from any wandering guest or resident. Once you step inside, you lean down, undoing the satin bow of each shoe. The wooden floor feels cool through the soft silk of your stockings as you make your way soundlessly through the salon and then up the wide, carpeted stairway, shoes dangling from your fingertips. Your heart is practically jumping up and down in your chest, spinning with the promise of what’s to come.

You pause at the top of the landing, the pale evening light spilling in through the tall windows sectioning the darkened hallway into panels of darkness and light. Which room are you supposed to go to? You can’t remember……

And then the world spins as you’re snatched from behind, your shoes dropping onto the carpet when strong arms wrap around you and hold you prisoner. “Got you.” The voice is low, husky with the soft, rolling thunder of anticipation. Heat explodes inside you as you feel the press of his long, lean body from behind. Your heart pulses, each beat sending a firework of sparks through your veins. His lips are by your ear, his teeth already nipping at the sensitive skin. By now you’re weak with wanting him as you twist around within his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“So what are you going to do with me?” You’re both enveloped in shadows but you can still see enough of his face, the blue fire of his heated gaze, the sharp white of his teeth behind his curved lips. He leans forward, his hands sliding down your sides, over the swell of your hips with practiced familiarity. He begins gathering your skirt, slowly hiking up each side. It whispers as it skims the surface of your skin. “That remains to be seen, luv.” His fingers touch the bare skin of your thighs and you catch your breath expectantly. A single movement and he lifts you, a laugh warm and dark as coalfire escaping his lips as you wrap your legs around him, press your eager lips against the line of his neck.

Somehow, even as you cling to him, even through the fog your impatient kisses and whispers are wrapping him in, Arthur is aware enough to realize your shoes are laying there abandoned and has the wherewithal to kick them inside his bedroom and then with the same foot, swiftly kick the door shut, readily dismissing the world outside in favor of the woman in his arms.

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

[champagnexowishes]

[kirbyfigure]

usernames w/ the word cemetery? pls and ty :)

🐰✿🐇❀ 🐰♡︎🎀 ˚⊹♡ ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ 🐇࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ ⊹ ࣪ 🐰🌸˖ ʚɞ

[aquagirl1978]

It was really hard to pick between all these lovely prompts 🥺🥺❤️❤️ Can't wait to read all of the requests you get! Here's mine: Napoleon + Hugs #11

What a surprise, a Napoleon request from Mo! Actually, the surprise this time is that smut was not requested. I have never written fluff for Napoleon, so here's a first. Hope you enjoy!

Peekaboo - Napoleon Bonaparte x Reader (Ikemen Vampire)

A/N: Part of my New Year New Celebration event. Also part of the Spring Showers Spring Flowers event I am co-hosting with @violettduchess.

Pairing: Napoleon Bonaparte x Reader

Prompt: resting head on other's head while hugging / cottagecore

Tags: fluff

Napoleon closed the door to the cottage, the smell of freshly baked apple pie lingering in the air. With long strides, he walked the perimeter of the cottage quietly. He had a plan and did not want to ruin the surprise.

He stopped once he turned the corner of the garden; there he stood, watching you hanging the linens. You were so happy earlier that morning when you woke and saw the sun shining and heard the birds chirping. “Today is going to be a good day,” you told him while kissing his brow, before stumbling out of bed, leaving him there to rest longer.

In the time you had let him finish sleeping, you had not only washed the bed linens, but had also baked an apple pie, one of his favorite desserts. He was standing behind a tree, making sure you would not see him. 

Yet.

As he peeked out from his hiding spot, he couldn’t help but feel filled with warmth - not from the sun above, but from you. Watching you perform such simple, mundane tasks filled him with a joy that was just indescribable. To see the soft smile carved on your face and how it lit up your face made his heart begin to race.

When he saw you had started to take down the dry linens, he made his move. He crept through the grass on tip-toe, careful not to step on any branches, lest he make a sound and make his presence known to you. He slipped behind trees and crouched behind bushes like he was navigating a minefield. All so you would not detect him.

He snuck behind one of the sheets in your line of view; hidden behind the billowing fabric, Napoleon stood smiling, waiting.

Your fingers worked nimbly as you removed the clothespins, the sheets falling into your open arms. Once folded and placed in the basket by your feet, you reached the clothesline, ready for the next item.

Like it was second nature, your hands naturally reached for the next sheet, your fingers plucking the clothespins from the line, your eyes not even noticing the dark figure hiding behind the sheet. But this time, when the sheet fell from the line, you shrieked loudly, your face turning the same shade as the sheet that landed in your hands. 

“Peekaboo!” 

“Napoleon!” you mock-scolded, your heart still beating fast from the shock of finding your lover hiding behind the sheet.

Napoleon wrapped you in his arms, pulling you in for a embrace. He rested his head atop yours, soaking in your warmth. Unable to protest, you embraced your love, dropping the sheet to the ground as you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. 

With a devilish smile, he tilted your chin, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. Napoleon let out a soft laugh when he felt your lips lift into a smile; he knew then that his surprise was a success.

“Time for a break, mon amour,” Napoleon whispered after nipping your lower lip. “Let’s go inside. I’m ready to go back to bed.”

Tagging: @redheadkittys @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @atelieredux @ikehoe @kpop-and-otome @lucyw260 @queengiuliettafirstlady @kisara-16 @lordsisterxotome @violettduchess @jet-ivory @bellerose-arcana @crypticbibliophile @yarnnerdally @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @wendolrea

[flowerscentedartist]

It's March 20th

Spring Showers @selfshipperapproved

It was fun drawing this

[scorchieart]

Of Conflict and Compromise | AO3

Characters: Leon Dompteur, Chevalier Michel

Genre: Angst, Comfort

Summary: Sometimes, the best way to solve a dispute is to have that dispute first. Leon and Chevalier, while excellent leaders, can't always see the other side unless it's shoved right in front of their faces.

Word Count: 2.1k

Prompt: Birds chirping.

A/N: Here's my entry for @aquagirl1978 and @violettduchess's Spring Showers, Spring Flowers CCC. Thank you both for setting this up! This was originally a story I'd abandoned months ago, but it's nice to revisit these two, even if they are hard-headed.

Content Warnings: References to death, implied Leon route spoilers.

It wasn’t the headache that woke him before dawn. Nor was it his sagging shoulders or the chill of early spring that crept through the tiniest gaps in the window frame. Tossing and turning in the massive multi-blanketed bed, Leon scarcely got any sleep between memories of the previous night and his own intrusive thoughts, and before he knew it, serenades of the morning’s first birds rid him of any hope to rest. Groggy and sore, he disentangled himself from the contorted covers, splashed his face in the wash basin, slipped into yesterday’s outfit, and left his bedroom.

Other than the outside chirps that accompanied him, Leon met no living soul on his descent. He drummed his fingers on the hilt of his sword when he reached the base of the steps, wondering how best to kill time until the kingdom awoke. He considered heading to the training grounds for some drills, but as far as Leon was concerned, working out wasn’t as fulfilling when you didn’t have a second. He could pop into the kitchen for an early breakfast, but immediately shut the idea down. It was never worth filling yourself when an Yves menu was slated for lunch. 

Flocks of birds coupled their songs into duets and choruses almost in mockery of Leon’s solitude, and he stalked deeper into the castle to distance himself from them. As the squawks and cheeps faded behind him, he reluctantly resigned to leave early to town for his mission, when new sounds caught his attention. Scratchy-scrawly and flippy-wispy ones. Down the corridor to his right, in the direction of the foreign affairs faction headquarters.

Leon’s first thought was that Clavis was hacking away at some new contraption, undoubtedly for the purpose of some nefarious wakeup call. Concerned for the palace-goers, and marginally curious himself, he silently trekked toward the office, stopping just before the ornate white door. The sounds persisted, uniform and deliberate in their execution, and Leon pressed his ear to the wood in an attempt to decipher their purpose, only to flinch when the perpetrator sharply called from within.

“Enter, Black.”

Leon mentally kicked himself for not recognizing the uninterrupted pattern of quill on paper and pushed open the door. Chevalier did not welcome his brother as he entered, but sat head hung low over his desk, his only movements the lightning-fast scratching of his right hand and the occasional swapping of parchment with his left from two mountains of sheets flanking either side of him.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Leon awkwardly asked Chevalier’s scalp. Accepting the expected silent response, he took in the rare sight of Chevalier working at dawn, the morning rays spilling in from the high windows surrounding him doing little to bring life to his pallid features. The office itself was colorless, pristine, and smelled almost medicinal in its tidiness. Leon hated the smell and the memories it brought up and always avoided the room whenever he could. He crossed to one of the windows, and, after a bit of effort, wrenched it open, gulping in the fresh air like a stream.

“Shut it,” said Chevalier.

“It’s too stuffy in here. Plus, you could use some sun,” Leon said absently, staring out at the blueing sky. A robin soared toward him and perched itself on the windowsill. It chirped and hopped back and forth in the same spot, as though debating whether it should enter. Leon dug into his pants pocket and produced a handful of crushed crackers, which at this point was more crumb than cracker. Grimacing at the resurfacing memory, he spilled the lot in front of the bird and watched it eat.

“I only allow one interloper at a time,” said Chevalier. “And only if they clean up after themselves.”

Leon stuck his arms out and patted his hands free of the crumbs. Then he drew the window down, leaving a tiny sliver the bird could not fit into.

“How’s that?” he asked. In that moment, a strong gust blew outside and through the crack, blasting both the cracker crumbs and the documents on the desk in all directions. Paper and bread swirled around the room before gently floating down as the wind died, and in between the flurry Leon could make out the bird tapping its beak impatiently on the glass and Chevalier slowly rising from his seat. 

The two princes picked up the fallen documents, Leon careful to separate them into piles of “signed” and “unsigned”, without exchanging any words. It was only after Chevalier reseated himself and resumed his work that Leon felt the urge to break the tension.

“Compromises never do work between us, do they?”

“You can’t propose compromise in someone else’s office, you dolt,” said Chevalier.

“Oh yeah? And who’s the dolt who let me in in the first place?”

“Only because it was more distracting not knowing what you were doing behind a door.”

“Hey, my hands are metaphorically clean!” Leon slinked back to the window and brushed residue crumbs through the tiny opening. The bird gave a shrill screech and resumed eating. Chevalier winced, and it was then that Leon noticed the sizable dark circles sagging beneath his eyes.

“Birds kept you up then, huh?” said Leon.

“Must they be so boisterous in the morning?” said Chevalier.

“Come on, Chevalier, they’re birds! Morningsong is in their nature! Are you really going to punish a bird’s natural impulse to want to—”

“I know why they are singing,” interrupted Chevalier.

“I was going to say they’re welcoming in the spring season. Why do you think they’re singing?”

Chevalier grabbed another document and violently slammed it on the desk. 

“Whoa, you must be really tired if you’re this cranky just talking to me,” said Leon.

“And you must be really lonely if you’ve come to me to sing to,” said Chevalier.

Leon frowned and stared out the window. The bird ruffled its feathers in the slight breeze, and Leon wished he could trade places with it.

“I can leave whenever I want,” said Leon.

“And yet, you are glued to my window,” said Chevalier.

“It’s bad manners to leave the table before the guest finishes his meal. Of course, that’s something you never cared for.”

“Useless drivel of dullards. Like dancing and socializing and—”

“Sleeping on time?”

“Sleeping with negligence.”

Images flashed in Leon’s mind. Moles positioned at windows and balconies. Spies leaping between bedroom shadows. Assassins blending in with the night. 

“Clavis will throw a fit when he finds you’re not in your room,” said Leon.

“He will find another victim to sing to,” said Chevalier.

“We’re really stretching the definition of ‘sing’ today, aren’t we?”

“None of which the showoff will be too fond of.”

“His name is Yves.”

“Does that change the fact that he is vulnerable?”

“It changes whether you care about it.”

Chevalier straightened his back and stretched his arms. For a moment, Leon thought he might actually go to warn Yves, until Chevalier pulled out a book from a desk drawer and began to read like their conversation never happened.

“You know what will happen, but you won’t do anything to stop it?” asked Leon.

“I have identified the assailant and victim,” said Chevalier. “Whether you define this as caring or not has no weight on my decision to involve myself further.”

Leon’s fingers clenched on the windowsill like jaws. “You’re a coward, Chevalier. A shameless, plain, unapologetic coward for all the world to see.” The wood splintered beneath his thumbs, making the bird jump and resume its peevish chirping.

“I keep my closet free of skeletons,” Chevalier said calmly.

“Yes, because you’re so much better at digging graves.”

“I can bury them without hiding the shovel.” Chevalier snapped the book shut and stomped over to Leon. The bird silenced immediately and flew away. “Running away? That is the true definition of cowardice.”

Leon’s eyes focused on the bird’s escape, desperate bitterness building in his chest. “What are you implying?”

“I know your secret, fourth prince,” whispered Chevalier. Like a flame, Leon’s anger snuffed out. A prickly stiffness replaced the tautness in his arms, and his blood curdled like ice. Through the glass he could see Chevalier’s frigid expression trained directly on him, trapping him. Like a bird in a cage.

Leon licked his dried lips and cleared his throat. “Which one?” he said jokingly.

Chevalier lifted his eyebrow but maintained his composure. “You couldn’t save him,” he said, pointing at the scattered cracker remains that lined the now-cracked windowsill. Leon shut his eyes and exhaled deeply through his nose. If he had the choice, he’d prefer that Chevalier found out about this secret.

“Were you at the tavern last night?” he asked.

“I had my eyes there for a while,” said Chevalier. “What did you do with the body?”

“Took him home. His family should decide what to do with him.” Leon turned around and leaned against the window, his eyes still closed. “It was his wife who told me. Said he’d fallen in with a bad gang recently and owed a lot of money. He spent all his time working and stopped coming home for lunch and dinner. When he wasn’t working, he was at the tavern with those goons running him dry, like he couldn’t leave. You know she’d find him dangling off a table in the morning with a mug in hand? If I could just — if I could just get something in his stomach…”

“It is ridiculous to blame yourself for his end,” interrupted Chevalier. 

“He needed someone. A friend to pull him out and help him and his family.”

“What he needed was someone to stop that gang. A prince to eliminate threats to and deliver justice.”

“If I went after the gang,” Leon said, opening his eyes and scowling, “who would go after him?”

“Your duty is to the greater good of the kingdom. You cannot hope to save everyone every time,” said Chevalier. “And this time, you failed everyone.”

“Just because you’ve given up doesn’t mean I have,” growled Leon. He pushed off from the window and marched towards the door.

“Where are you going?” asked Chevalier, his voice condescending. 

“First, I’m going to Yves’s room before Clavis does. You know, something a good brother would do.” He tossed a mocking glare over his shoulder. “Then I’m heading into town to check on the family. Something a good prince would do. I’d offer for you to join, but of course I can’t propose compromise in someone else’s office.”

Leon grabbed the gilded knob, fully prepared to rip the door off his hinges, when Chevalier let out an all-to-familiar sigh.

“Of course you can’t, you imbecile. No one but myself calls the shots in my office, and I have already decided my course of action.” Chevalier was at his desk again, digging through the pile of signed documents. He pulled out a thick sheaf and offered it. “As soon as Clavis is finished playing, we shall depart.”

Curiosity won Leon over again and he found himself returning to Chevalier’s side. The stack of papers was hefty, and the ink so pungent Leon deduced it could barely have been hours since it was written. He scanned the first page of what appeared to be a warrant for the arrest and prosecution of the gang. Flipping through the rest showed detailed records of their involvement in criminal activity across various locations in both Rhodolite and Benitoite, listing dozens of names of victims and their families. Leon ran his splintered fingers over the man and his family’s names at the bottom of the last page, careful not to smear the letters, and finally over Chevalier’s elegant signature just below.

“All these names,” began Leon, “what took you so long to act?”

“They never stay long once a client ‘ceases to be profitable,’” Chevalier explained grimly. “They take whatever remains on the person and disappear until their next crime. That is, except this time someone moved the body.”

The flame reignited in Leon’s core like an inferno. He grabbed the quill off the desk and hurriedly scribbled his name beside Chevalier’s. “I’ll kick Clavis out and meet you in town in twenty minutes,” he said, charging back to the door. “Breakfast is on me!”

“Don’t break my door, I have not forgotten about the window,” called Chevalier as Leon bolted out with a thumbs up. Chevalier straightened the sheets, picked up his book, and followed Leon out the door, albeit at a much more relaxed pace. Behind him, the robin had returned to the crooked windowsill with a friend, and the two happily sang and munched on the crumbs as the sky brightened over the new day.

I say this all the time about Leon, but he needs to hang out with his bros more.

Tagging:@atelier-the-atelier @queengiuliettafirstlady @violettduchess @venulus @thewitchofbooks @leonscape @rhodolitesrose @venti-tangents @dear-sciaphilia @ikesenwritings @myonlyjknight @ladyofcrowsx

If you would like to be added or removed from my tag list, please send me an ask or a message.

[queenoffists]

Anyone else prepping for summer time???

What kind of flowers are we all planting? 🌸🌿☀️

[xxsycamore]

𝘐𝘯 𝘈𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘮 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 (Yves x GN reader)

↬🌸 A date with Yves in late spring.

Yves Kloss x Gender Neutral Reader • rating: G • tags: Fluff; Dates; Gardens; Tea Parties: Reading; Birds; Tea snacks; Afternoon Naps; Some humor • wordcount: 1, 239 • masterlist

a/n: after 200+ fics, this is my first time fully writing one on my phone 😂 I'm nervous! It didn't come natural to me and it felt different from my usual stuff, but I'm away from home and I had to finish it before the challenge ends 🥺 Inspired by that one time I walked by an apple tree in full bloom in the morning, and the pavement was completely covered in its petals when I returned just a few hours later...I made a poll asking you which character you'd like to see in a spring-themed fic, and here we are, with the winner! Yves + prompts 4. Gardens; 7. Flower Crowns; 14. Birds Chirping (fluff) for Spring Showers, Spring Flowers Challenge by the lovely @aquagirl1978 & @violettduchess 💖 Hope you enjoy!

Spring is too short.

And unlike the endless duties of those who buzz around the palace, much like the busy bees outside, it has an end. A prince with a penchant for all things beautiful and his equally gracious lover would naturally want to make the most of the season.

Too bad they're just like the bees. And when they are to finally catch a break, the gardens are simply calling for them with the promise of an apple blossom-scented date.

Book in one hand and Yves' hand in the other, you shield your gaze from the suddenly dazzling sun, somehow having missed the mundane act of it.

"Make yourself comfortable. Don't stand so stiffly, this is no tea ceremony with officials."

Watching the back of the bulter that served you tea as he walks away, you move your gaze back on Yves and his kind suggestion. Reclining back and enjoying your book, sitting back up just for a small sip... it does seem pleasant.

"But in your presence, Prince Yves..."

"Don't be like that! You deserve a rest. Besides, I'm fine where I am."

Yves' bright smile is a little too much to argue with. A small sigh leaves your tea-warmed lips as you sink further into the settee.

You and Yves have been dating for some time now, the golden middle of feels-like-forever meeting 'every sensation is new like we only became a thing yesterday'... so much to be felt. Being comfortable in his company is swept by a current of bubbling excitement, of fixating on his every little gesture, of hearing the echo of his words in his head for so long after spoken words of love.

As for him? He seems to have it even worse. The crystal-clear oceans in his eyes waver in turbulence as you look up from your book (not a single full sentence yet read...) to meet his gaze, flashing him a content smile. He smiles back, awkwardly, tipping his chin slightly up to match his usual poise. His eyes though, they linger on your form... For a second you stiffen, sure that it has to do with your current posture - legs folded sideways and rested on the settee - and you consider putting them back down. But Yves just cleans his throat and stands up from the tea table.

"I... Have something I need to do. It won't take long so please wait for me here and enjoy your book!"

And then he's gone.

You blink as the pink of his cape camouflages among the magnolias and fully disappears in another second, leaving you wondering what businesses Yves could possibly have further ahead in the garden...

🌸🌸🌸

The book you've acquired puts an old saying to shame as it proves to be as magical as its cover, the further into it you get. In a world of flowers and fairies two people find love, and you wonder with how much the emotion makes your eyes sparkle, if every romance book should be marked as having magical elements. 

When the chirping of birds becomes louder than the narrative in your head, you look up from your book to find two round little sparrows perched on the wrought iron chair Yves was seated in. You figure you've been as still and tranquil as a garden statue, enough for the two little balls of fluff to dauntlessly approach the table. 

'Too bad that not even crumbs are left when Yves' baked treats are brought to the table...', you don't say out loud, seeking their company for longer. It's true, you've already eaten his delicious tea snack... And now you're not immune, and definitely not in this picture perfect afternoon, to getting sleepy.

Suppressing a yawn, you notice how the warm breeze brings a swirl of fallen petals down on you. With the apple blossom standing tall above you, it's no surprise that all nearby surfaces are adorned with the little pinkish white petals. There are some on your clothes, too.

Yes, beauty could be found behind the hard covers of the book too, sometimes. And speaking of it...

'Where did you go, Yves?'

🌸🌸🌸

"-falling asleep in a place like this!"

Something is threatening your sacred nap. It's melodic but carries a hint of panic...

"-or if it has gotten cold?!"

It's familiar, yet it could as well be a part of the ambience and nothing more...

"Wake up already!!"

Eyes blinking into focus, the weight of a good nap is persuading you into resting them for a little longer... But you recognize the pinched face of your lover.

"Prince Yves!! I've fallen asleep..."

You lift yourself from the cozy curled-up position you've been holding for awhile now, limbs begging for that nice after-sleep stretch out. And in the improvising version of doing so in front of a wide-eyed Yves, you discover said limbs - and your whole body, actually - covered in fallen apple blossom petals.

"So much of them..."

"You're BURIED in them! It's like you've been out in the snow!"

Truly, it does resemble a thin layer of snow... you should probably get to your feet and shake them off, but solving the riddle behind Yves' strange demeanor takes priority. Taking a better look at him, the last bits of sleepiness make way for becoming more perceptive, and you can't help but gasp.

"What happened to you?!"

Hair slightly unkempt and a mud stain spoiling the beauty of his visage, the lower your eyes go, the more they're met with striking surprise. His clothes are a mess! Splotches of green stain his trousers and blazer, as well as his cape, likely caused by a close and rough encounter with the grass...but why?

"I... Wanted to make this for you."

Only now you notice the hand hidden behind his back, now brought into sight along with the item it holds. 

"A flower crown?"

Yves meets your gaze with barely hidden embarrassment.

"Y-You looked so pretty earlier, it would've been bad taste not to present you with something! And there are all kinds of flowers blooming now, and I've seen you admire all of them...it was hard to choose, you know! And then there were these stupid traps laid all over the garden...!"

That explains a lot... Poor Yves. There's something laughable in his eagerness to go through all of this despite the obstacles, but it's equally touching.

"it's so pretty! Thank you so much! I don't know what to say..."

The sweet smile is back on Yves' face, but the furrowing of his brow returns as he motions to place the crown on your head.

"I wonder if that's needed at all, with you being practically buried in flowers already!"

A chuckle rises to your lips but you don't want to disrespect his efforts, so you begin to brush the petals away - only to be stopped by Yves' gentle hand landing on yours.

"Let me look at how pretty you are a little longer, okay? I was away all afternoon..."

The heat blooming on your face is reasonable given how unexpectedly sweet his words are, yet you wish your composure was harder to break. You nod and a single petal sticking to your head falls down in a slow dance.

You hold your head lowered though, signaling your desire to have that flower crown finally on your head; choosing to bear even the additional heat that would inevitably come to your face with it.

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