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pochipop · 1 year

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＃IKEMEN PRINCE !! ♡ — THE WAY HE LIES (YVES X READER).

#. synopsis! — yves frequents your family owned bakery in the city, and he's such a pretty liar .

#. characters! — yves .

#. warnings! — very slight angst .

#. word count! — 1.6k .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — is this really the content anyone wants from me? probably not! but hello ikeseries fandom, i've come to join the tumblr ranks !

There he sits again in one of the worn-out wooden chairs of your family’s bakery, —his hair glistening like little strings of golden sunlight in the dying evening rays. Many moons ago, you’d have been nervous to approach him, smoothing your apron down, dusting flour off yourself haphazardly before making your way over to take his order, minding your posture like a single slump in his presence would have set the world ablaze. These days, you know better. . . Yves may look much too sophisticated to let yourself be true around, but underneath that perfectly polished appearance, there’s a young man much like yourself.

A young man who is also painfully uncertain of it all, who yearns for a place to belong.

With two servings of strawberry mousse in either hand, you place one before him, letting the little ceramic dish clink against the table. His clear, powder blue eyes draw to your face, and he bites back a smile, forcing that same neutral arrogance to remain even as you take a seat across from him.

“Back again, I see,” you grin a bit, shoveling a spoonful of the creamy dessert into your mouth, letting it melt on your tongue.

He hums in acknowledgement, taking his own spoon between his fingers to gracefully scoop an appropriate sized bite from the top.

“I had some business to attend to in town,” he replies evenly, pausing to taste the mousse, and then to swallow it down. “I’m sure I missed dinner at the castle and was feeling pekish on the journey back.”

You know he’s lying, but you don’t ask why. You never ask why he’s often so dishonest; both with himself and others. . . It’s easier to assume that Yves has his reasons and to leave it at that.

“I trust everything went well enough then?” You inquire.

His eyebrow raises in confusion, and you’re quick to clarify: “With the business you mentioned having in town, that is.”

If you hadn’t been sure he was lying before, you certainly were after seeing his face drop for a moment as he realized he’d slipped up in his charade.

“Oh, —yes,” he answers, giving a quick, unconvincing nod. “All’s well, thank you. And I assume business today went smoothly as well?”

“As smoothly as it can go, I suppose,” you laugh, —and ah. . . There’s that funny feeling again, the one Yves has been having in his chest as of late.

The kind that mimics a dastardly mixture of palpitations and the fluttering of insect wings.

He’d really like to fix this. There’s gotta be a way to pass this over, let these feelings pass him by, —because this can’t, won’t, shouldn’t, couldn’t ever work, and he knows it. You live in a world so completely different to his own; one that isn’t tainted by royal politics and all the gossip of bordering kingdoms that always lingers around the corners, threatening to swallow him whole. There’s no place for love when it comes to people like him. Not when any compassion you could ever show him would only prove to marr your reputation. It’s why he never picks the seat by the largest window anymore, why he only comes here when the shop is about to close, and why he’s never allowed himself to sit with you without telling a lie.

So yeah. . . Maybe it is for the best that you never ask why he isn’t as honest as he could be when it comes to you. Or to anyone else.

“You seem a little down today,” you comment. “Is everything really okay?”

It’s just the way his frown seems deeper, and the way his brows seem so set in their furrow. He never looks outwardly happy as far as you’ve ever see of him, but usually there’s little flecks of joy that swim through his eyes, whether it’s over the sweets, or the peacefulness of the establishment, or over the way you smile at him so reassuringly, as if flashing one at him for just a second should be enough to soothe his deepest hurts.

His expression drops for a moment, like he’s surprised you were paying enough attention to notice the smaller details of his sour mood. Yves does his best to wear his heart beneath his sleeve, keep it hidden away, but you. . . He fears you see him for exactly who he is, and the thought of it terrifies him. Nobody should have to see that.

“Everything’s fine,” he nods after a few moments of silence. “The mousse is quite good today. Did you make it yourself?”

You fear the compliment is little more than a distraction, a way to change the topic without having to dwell on the previous one. But that’s okay.

“Mhm,” you nod. “Just a few hours ago, actually. We’ve been tweaking the recipe a bit as of late, and I think this might be the best one so far.”

“I agree. The sweetness is balanced with the slightly tart flavor of the fresh strawberries on top, and the texture is so decadent and creamy,” he answers, words emphasized by the spoonful he ushers into his mouth much less elegantly than before.

Something about it makes you smile. Sure, he’s a liar, but his eyes are so honest, and you can always tell what he really wants to say when you read between the lines. You imagine it must be hard to be a prince in such a small kingdom. . . To have so many eyes on you at all times, to be judged both at your strongest and weakest points. The riches of it all must be nice, and that’s all well and good, —but there’s so obviously a price to pay for living under that kind of scrutiny. You can’t help but wonder if Yves ever stops to let it all wash over him, or if he goes about each day pretending to be alright for everyone else’s sake.

At the very least, you hope he feels comfortable being himself here, with you.

“I’m glad you think so.”

Silence falls between you for a bit. The sound of horse drawn carriages padding over the gravel outside and the soft clinks of your spoons against the little ceramic bowls echo in a playful chorus.

You’re happy he stopped by today.

“There’s some leftover honey cake, if you’d like to take it back with you,” you note. “I know you took a slice to go the first time you came in, and you mentioned your brother was a fan of the flavor.”

He blinks, lips parting slightly, as if he just can’t believe you cared enough to remember an interaction from so long ago. It makes him wonder what else you’d be able to recall about him, and he looks down at the strawberry mousse sitting on the table (though it’s mostly eaten by now.)

“If it’s not too much trouble,” he answers, voice softer than before.

Yves tacks on a quiet ‘thank you,’ to which you offer him another smile. He wishes he could see that everyday, feel the way it lights him up from the inside. . . But that’s a fool’s game to play, and Yves is no court jester. He’s a prince, —a cowardly one, and he’s not the kind of man you deserve. He’s not the kind of man anyone should truly care for.

“It’s no trouble at all,” you answer. “You’ve been very generous to myself and my family’s bakery. . . Really, it’s the least I can do. I’m afraid I’m not sure how else to repay the kindness.”

Perish the thought, honestly. He’d do anything just to see you every now and again, to reach out and remind himself that not everyone in this kingdom thinks him to be some kind of humanized betrayal. You look at him with such kindness in your eyes, and it’s a welcome change from the harsh, judgemental stares he often receives on his way anywhere at all. At least with you, he feels content; like there’s no shackles keeping him glued to a place of constant scrutiny.

You see him as he is, —and you ignore everything he isn’t. And he loves you for it.

You pack up two slices of the honey cake, thinking maybe if he really hadn’t eaten that much today, he’d be able to enjoy it at some point or another. As you hand the little box over, you don’t bother to insist he keep his coins in his pocket. He’s already fumbling around in his pockets for payment likely double that of the actual price.

“We’ll have macarons on sale this weekend, if you’d be interested in stopping by,” you smile, handing him the box of honey cake slices. “I can save you some.”

Even if he didn’t want them, (which he most certainly did), he would have accepted your offer anyway. If it means he has a valid excuse to come see you for a bit, then count Yves in without question.

“I’d like that,” he answers, his fingers brushing oh so gently against your own as he takes the box from your hands.

You swore you could see the faintest smile pull at his lips, but it was gone before you could be certain of it.

The time comes once again for him to leave, and you watch him go with a newfound longing. From the window of the bakery, you watch as his lean frame eventually turns the closest corner, and he disappears for the time being. . . He’ll be back soon enough, you’re sure, but a part of you always hates to see him go.

Maybe one day he won’t have to, but for now, you resign yourself to closing shop, the thought of him dancing around in your head.

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maladaptivedaydreamsx · 4 months

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How the Rhodolite princes would react to their firstborn/newborn

Rating: PG-13 (?) Ikepri itself contains a lot of mature themes however, as such, mdni 🔞

Warnings: Brief mentions of (past) character death, grief, pregnancy/childbirth themes (no actual birth depicted), gn but implied afab, & the usual tragic Ikepri cannon.

A/N: Tried to write how they'd hold their kid and what they were feeling when meeting them. Spoiler warnings for the Rhodolite princes routes, tried not to bring up anything major though (Luke's is probably the most spoilery?). Tried to keep the princes' spouses GN, though implied afab bc newborns. (One very brief mention of Belle, but mc/reader is not Emma.) Might eventually make pt2 with the others..? Please read the warnings and proceed only if comfortable! :)

(Apologies for anything that seems ooc, I haven't written much in awhile and this is my first piece for Ikepri! I'm more used to fics rather than hcs, but I tried my best! o7)

JIN 🦅

There's so much Jin can't help but worry about. His past, his future, his country... and now he's got not one but two loved ones he would do anything for. The little bundle of joy in his arms reminds him of the times when his younger brothers were born, and how cute they used to be (well, some of them, anyway). The bleary, garnet eyes trying to look into his own have him wondering.. is this how he looked to his dear mother? There's so much he cherishes, and so much he fears, but he won't let the history of Belle repeat itself. He'd fight the entire palace if he had to, but for right now, he'll settle for tackling pesky burps and dirty diapers. Jin coos at his baby, baritone voice suddenly startling the poor thing, and he can't help but pout. The baby in his arms continues to fuss, feeling hungry.

Jin pulls something out of his breast pocket, looking over at his spouse. "So.. how much longer until they can have lollipops?"

CHEVALIER 🐅

Chevalier would likely be a bit awed upon holding his firstborn, much like the quiet way he takes in Emma's precence. Chevalier is known to be awkward with his affections, as he's far from practiced, but it's been shown on several occasions how he tries to gently pet an animal that dares to come close, or how he clumsily takes care of his love when they're feeling under the weather. He may look fine on the outside, but he's actually quite hesitant, trying to sort things out logistically at first, before sort of just settling for standing there and holding his newborn with both arms. He stares down at their gentle features, taking in every detail, making sure they're comfortable and warm in their sleep.

Looking over at his beloved in all their tired glory, in his very own Chevalier-approved affection he says, "You did well, Simpleton." While he only speaks four words aloud, his faint smile speaks the thousands he didn't quite know how to express.

CLAVIS 🐆

"Dearie me," Clavis says, holding his newborn, full of wide-eyed excitement. "They look so much like you, I can see the bunny ears already."

Being someone who values life so dearly, bringing a new one into this world, with the love of his life no less, is enough to send Clavis' heart soaring into the stratosphere. He just can't help but want to drown them in affection, but they're so small and fragile, and Clavis knows better than to risk scaring them now. He's so, so gentle with his child, unconditional love flowing off him in waves as they bond quietly (please don't get used to this, it will not last), and looks upon their splotchy tufts of lilac hair. The Lelouch genes live on through yet another generation, he smiles to himself. Clavis slowly comes over to stand by his love, placing a gentle kiss on their head.

"You're so lucky to have such a wonderful husband like me. But I'm even luckier to have you both in my life."

LEON 🦁

The happiest day in Leon's life. Second only to your wedding. Scratch that, the wedding is second.. he thinks. He's a bit frazzled from work, labor stress, and all the chaos, cut the guy some slack. No one is immune to this sweet lion's charisma, not even a newborn. They can't help but stare at his flowy hair and bright eyes, like a cartoon character come to life right before their eyes. Leon gently caresses their neck, very lightly pressing a kiss into their soft kiss to their temple. What kind of person will they grow up to be? Will they eat as much as he does? Will they fall asleep when they read too? There's a lot that runs through his mind, but ultimately, he is hopes for them to be healthy, and live happily. This child is going to be absolutely spoiled (within reason), and always have someone in their corner, rooting for them and ready to help learn from their wrongs. For now, he can worry about righting their posture instead. He tries to hold them like he read (how his partner read) in the parenting books, supporting their necks and all. It was really hard to stay awake during those, but the excitement of fatherhood helped him push through, and he's going to put it all into practice now.

"When do we start working on the second one?" (If not for the literal newborn currently in his hands, he'd be busy dodging several pillows.)

YVES 🐈

There's a lot of suppressed guilt for his mother's death in mind, and so many worries for his darling's health before, during, and after. He's a bit scared to hold his newborn, for fear of his clumsiness and "bad luck". With some assurance, he finally takes hold of them, and he could not physically be more careful with his firstborn. Clear eyes like the sky blink sleepily up at him, and Yves is fighting back tears solely for fear of them landing on the baby and somehow hurting them. The smile on his face could split his cheeks if it got any wider. The baby falls asleep in its father's arms, and he even tries breathing softer so he won't wake them. He's just trying his best, please reassure this sweet cat, he means well. (And he absolutely lost the battle against those blasted tears anyway.)

"Thank you for loving me, and for bringing our child into the world with us. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

LICHT 🐺

(Twins having twins cliché may seem redundant, I made 'em different for each brother, pinky promise.)

Licht was blessed with not one but two bundles of joy. Beautiful twin boys, who had what looked to be his vibrant silver hair and his beloved's eyes. He couldn't help the memories that surged, of happier times, and the worst of times. He knew all too well just how ruthless the court could be, but he had a chance to make things different this time. Licht seriously considered building that house he'd once mentioned, and moving you all somewhere much more peaceful. One twin in his arms, one with their other parent, he feels all thought subside when the one he's holding tries to grab at his sleeve. Licht's now-famous smile blooms across his lips much the way the sun's rays appear over daybreak; subtle, then all at once. He takes a gloveless hand, letting their tiny hand hold onto his finger as best they can, eyes gleaming from the sight before him. Licht looks over in wonder at his spouse, only to find them already watching with a tired, quiet smile.

"Things won't be easy but.. I know we can handle anything. I adore you. And I adore them."

NOKTO 🦊

(Twins for both may seem redundant, but I changed things up drastically ok, we got this.)

Nokto wasn't entirely surprised to have twins, but he had also hoped luck would be in their corner in avoiding similar fates. Two little girls, jewel-like eyes like his, and his beloved's hair color (or so it appears, though it's hard to tell for sure with so little peach fuzz). Nokto sits at the edge of the bed, holding one newborn in his arm, and reaching his other hand out for the one in his love's arms. Aside from the memories of his own upbringing, he's now having Typical Girl Dad thoughts about how to keep them safe and teach them how to stay away from cooties (boys), among other things. With a soft sigh, he gently burps his newborn after she's done feeding, rocking her slowly as she tries to chew on her father's lucious locks. Laughter bubbles past his lips at her cute antics, and Nokto feels the stress fade away, even if just a little. His heart is still getting used to receiving love and believing in it, but it's grown enough by now to love his 3 new favorite people in the world.

"If they like my hair this much now, just wait till they start to grow their own."

LUKE 🐻

Luke could not be more the picture of a teddy bear than with his newborn all swaddled up and snuggled in with their giant of a dad. He can't help but wonder if his sister is watching over them, laying next to his spouse on the bed, their newborn but a tiny dot among the two full-grown humans taking up most of the space. He promises to be there for his child the way he never really had anyone, and hopes to live more in the present now, the stakes feeling higher than ever before. A whole new life, created on purpose, gently resting in one arm and atop his broad chest, nestled comfortably and trying to suck on their thumb. Luke holds his spouse's hand with his free one, squeezing it gently, looking into their eyes with the intensity of his own emeralds.

"Look at 'em.. they're so small. Just like you," he jokes before letting out a big yawn, "But sleepy, just like me."

All rights for the characters and original intellectual property belong to Cybird. My writing belongs to myself, Maladaptivedaydreamsx, and shall not be reproduced elsewhere without permission. Ok to translate as a reblog to this post. Ok to reblog, no permission required (for those who like to be safe and ask first, all's good little homies) 💜

If you enjoyed these, I might try to make a pt2 with the other characters soon? Likes and reblogs appreciated, thank you kindly for reading! If you have any hc's of your own, please feel free to respond with them, I'd love to hear what you all think! 😊❤️ (If you'd like to be put on a tag list for any future works, please reply, though it will be a general list for writings as I'm getting back into things slowly atm,, 🙏🏻)

Also, to the lovely person who sent this in likely about 2 years ago (after I'd stopped writing on here bc life happens) ... if you're still somewhere in the fandom and end up seeing this post, thank you for your patience, and for sending something in. I'm finally trying to combat the writer's block again! 🙌🏻

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