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#jin grandet
scorchieart · 9 days
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lorei-writes · 2 months
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Happy Valentine's Day <3
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violettduchess · 4 months
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A/N: This year, as I deal with a far more limited amount of free time, I want to focus on writing things that really spark something for me. These headcanons, which I started almost 6 months ago, recently came roaring back into my imagination and I decided to go for it.
This is imagining how these suitors would react to their small child entering their bedroom in the middle of the night.
Leon, Sariel, Jin, Keith and Gilbert
WC: 2.2 k
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The child's white bedroom door, painted with a silvery moon and twinkling stars, opens slowly, a whisper in the still of the night. A small head pokes out, knuckling sleepily at eyes still heavy with the remnants of dreaming. A look left, then right.
The hall is empty.
Tiny bare feet tiptoe across plush carpeting.
One hand clutches a stuffed animal, the other reaches for the curved handle of your bedroom door and which, on a quiet exhale, opens.
Leon
He is awake the moment the door opens. A light sleeper, he never fails to hear when his daughter enters your bedroom, no matter how quietly she tries to. Even now, he pushes himself up, running a hand through his cacophony of dark hair, watching his offspring step as quietly as possible as she makes her way towards the bed. She’s so concentrated on not making noise that she doesn’t notice he’s already up and watching her until she arrives at the foot of the bed.
“Papa!” Her gasp is half surprise, half disappointment when she realizes he has, as always, heard her. Leon laughs softly, the sound still rough with sleep as he motions for her to come over to his side of the bed. 
“I was trying to be extra, extra quiet.” He offers her his hand and she takes it, climbing into the bed and then into the circle of his arms where he cuddles her close. “You were, peanut. You were very quiet but your father has very, very good ears. Especially at night.” 
Perhaps someday she’ll learn why. How good hearing and light sleeping could mean the difference between life and death in the slave pens. But not tonight. Tonight she snuggles into his embrace, clutching her brown bear with his black and red cape to her chest. 
“Shall I bring you back to your bed?” He brushes several dark locks of hair that have escaped her braid away from her plump cheek, his golden eyes warm with affection. His daughter stifles a yawn. “Can I stay here tonight, with you and Mama?” 
How can he say no? “Of course.” He shifts her, tucking her in close against his side where she curls up like a kitten, warm and content. Leon sighs, his heart fuller than he ever imagined it could be, before closing his eyes and drifting back to sleep.
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Sariel
He looks up from the paperwork on his lap when the bedroom door slowly opens. One glance at the clock on his nightstand and he knows exactly who dares enter his room, unannounced, in the middle of the night.
His son, hair dark as onyx, eyes as bright as violets, peeks around the door to see his father sitting up in bed, reading by the soft light of an oil lamp. 
“I see you, little one.” The child gives up stealth and hurries into his parents’ room, climbing up the foot of the bed and crawling his way across the velvety covers up to Sariel, careful not to jostle you while you are sleeping. He settles in next to his father, peering at the sheaf of papers still in his hands. “Why are you still up, Papa? It’s so late.”
Sariel glances down at his son, his lips curved in a soft shadow of a smile. “You know what? You are correct. It is very late.” He carefully removes his glasses, placing them in a safe spot on his nightstand and then sets the missives and letters and parchments beside them. He extends his arms and his son happily accepts the silent invitation, burrowing into his father’s embrace, clutching his soft, stuffed snake with the onyx eyes close to his little chest. “We’ll go to sleep together, ok Papa?”
Sariel reaches out, extinguishing the warm light and then shifts, dipping his head to press a kiss to his son’s midnight hair. “A sound plan, son.” He closes his eyes, contentment flowing through him like the soft waves of the ocean. “A very sound plan.”
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Jin
He freezes, lifting his head from your neck, his large hand going still on the sensitive skin of your hip. As involved as he may be with you, he has excellent hearing and the opening of the door is as loud in its whisper as a gust of howling wind. He feels the soft huff of air against his cheek as you reign in your galloping heart. Things were just getting good.... With a groan, a mixture of disappointment and the dying embers of desire, he sits up as you adjust your nightgown and tilts his head at the small outline in the doorway.
“Yes, Princess? What is it?”
“I heard a noise. In my wardrobe. I think there’s a monster in there.” Her voice is small, almost tentative as it floats through the darkened bedroom. Jin pushes back his covers, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed. He reaches back, squeezing your hand, a gesture that says I’ve got this, before getting up and walking toward his daughter. "Alright little lady, let's go investigate." She slips her small hand in his, clutching her stuffed baby eagle close as they make their way back to her bedroom.
Stepping inside, she pulls her hand away from his and points to the white and lavender closet. “In there, Papa.” Her garnet-colored eyes are wide as Jin clears his throat, fixing a scowl on his face as he faces the wooden doors.
“Listen up. This is Prince Jin speaking and any and all monsters hiding in this wardrobe better leave RIGHT now or else you’ll have to answer to me!”
“Yeah!”, she adds helpfully, eyes narrowing as she glares at the wardrobe, a mirror image of her father.
Jin reaches forward and flings open one door, then the other. Inside are all her dresses and coats. Her shoes all lined up neatly along the bottom. A few stockings peek out of small drawers and her wooden training sword and shield with Jin's crest lean against the side, askew. Jin searches through the clothing, stands on his toes to check the top shelves. He makes a show of it, incredibly thorough and yet serious. Then he turns around to face his daughter. “Looks like any monsters are long gone. And they won’t be coming back.”
A smile like the dawn breaks over her face and she rushes towards him. He leans down and catches her in his arms, holding her tightly against his broad chest. “Thank you, Papa. No monster would ever be stupid enough to come back now!” 
Jin carries her back to her white four-poster bed, grinning as he lays her down amongst her fluffy pillows and pulls the soft covers up to her chest. “Nope, not when they know they have to deal with me.” He glances over his shoulder at the wardrobe. “But how about tomorrow, we go to the knights training grounds and you bring your sword and shield. We can work on your swordsmanship so any monster knows to be just as afraid of you too.”
She grins, nodding eagerly. “Good idea!”
Her enthusiasm has him returning her grin and he leans down, running a large hand over the soft chestnut of her hair. “Alright then. Get some sleep so you’re ready for tomorrow.” She snuggles down into the warmth of her blankets, stifling a yawn even as she rolls over. “I love you, Papa.” He swallows for a moment at the lump of emotion that suddenly swells his throat. “I love you too. Princess. So much.”
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Keith
Little feet whisper across dark green carpeting, continuing their journey to his side of the bed. “Papa,” she whispers, tugging on his covers, her stuffed deer dangling from her grip on its antlers. Keith inhales, his handsome face frowning in his sleep as her voice cuts through the fog of dreaming. But he doesn’t wake up yet. However, his daughter is nothing but insistent. She pats his upper arm, clearing her throat and speaking again, this time louder. “Papa. Wake up.”
His golden eyes open slowly and he blinks as he returns to the here and now. The sight of her, with her ashen blond hair and your intelligent eyes, has him sitting up in bed, the last misty tendrils of dreaming vanishing like fog in the sunlight.
“Yes, darling? What’s wrong? Is everything ok?” 
She glances to your empty side of the bed. “I miss Mama.” Those words send his heart spinning, leaving a trail of ache inside his chest as he nods slowly. “I do too. But you remember how she had to go back to Rhodolite. I promise, she’ll be home again soon. Just a few more days.” He reaches for her hand, his thumb running soothingly over her knuckles, marveling at the tininess of her fingers, the softness of her skin. She speaks again, her voice compressed by sadness. “I still miss her.”
He sighs as she hangs her small head, curls covering her face. Then he has an idea. Slowly he gets out of bed and leads her by the hand across the room to the heavy glass doors of the balcony off of the bedroom, his favorite place in the palace to stargaze. Keeping a secure hold of her hand, he slides open one heavy glass door and then walks with her to the large brass telescope. “Take a look in there,” he murmurs, kneeling as he adjusts the eyepiece for her. He wraps one arm around her middle, holding her close. “Can you see it?”
She leans forward slightly. “It’s blurry.” Carefully he adjusts the focuser until he hears her breath catch. “Oh it’s so pretty!” She stares through the telescope in wonder at the bright star, brilliant in its silvery-blue light. 
“That,” he says softly, almost dreamlike, “is your mother’s favorite star.” Gently he pulls her away from the telescope and points upwards. “You can see it without the telescope just there, see the three stars just in a row?” She nods emphatically. “It’s the one all the way to the right.” He pauses, resting his chin tenderly on her small shoulder. “When you miss Mama at night, like you do now, you can look up at the sky and find her favorite star. It may make you feel better.”
She turns around and wraps her arms around Keith’s neck, hugging him with all her might. “Thank you, Papa.” He hugs her close, this walking embodiment of his heart, and smiles.
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Gilbert
He is already sitting up when his daughter approaches the bed, her stuffed tiger tucked under her arm. He heard the opening of the door and knew who it was immediately. No one else would ever dare to enter his bedroom in the middle of the night without fearing for their life.
“It’s past midnight, Mäuschen. Why are you wandering through the shadows?” His voice is a gentle that only you and those very close to Gilbert have ever heard. A genuine softness like the blanket of dusk as it falls over the land, the protective moon whispering as it cradles a favorite star. His daughter sighs, pushing away a stray lock of dark hair. “I’m hungry.”
He laughs quietly, his chin tilting down as he regards her. He speaks quietly, not wanting to wake you. You need rest after all, so close to the birth of your second child. He gets up, slipping on his black silk robe and then holds out his hand. She takes hold of it, wrapping her cool little fingers tightly around him and then pauses. “Wait a moment, Papa.” Turning back to the bed, she carefully places her stuffed tiger next to you where you sleep. “Watch out for Mama,” she orders sternly and doesn’t notice the bright gleam in Gilbert’s eyes as he smiles at her protective gesture. She turns, grabbing his hand and nods. “Ok Papa, fertig.” Ready.
He leads her out of the bedroom and a short walk down the hall to his office. Once inside, he walks over to his massive wooden desk, made of the finest dark walnut, and leans forward, turning on the desk lamp. He settles into his chair, into the crimson velvet cushioned seat and motions for her to join him. The Obsidian princess climbs into his lap, eyes bright as she looks at him expectantly. “Shh…this is our secret,” he murmurs, tapping his finger on the end of her nose. She grins slowly and nods. “Versprochen, Papa.” I promise. One arm holds her close as he leans down and opens a bottom drawer. Inside is a small round tin which he takes out and sets on his desk, next to the missives and parchments waiting for him come morning light.
“Go ahead,” he says encouragingly and she leans forward, carefully working the lid off with chubby fingers and then he feels her straighten up in excitement when its contents are revealed. She reaches in and pulls out a hearty oatmeal and raisin biscuit. The cookie is nearly at her lips when she pauses, thoughtfully. Shifting in his lap, she turns to face him and then holds it up. “Do you want a bite, Papa?” Her generosity has him smiling, a warmth like no other brightening his heart as he pretends to consider. “You don’t mind sharing?” She shakes her head, several loose, dark curls framing a face that is the youthful echo of yours. He leans forward and bites off a tiny corner, then leans back with a satisfied sigh. “Mama makes the best biscuits.” 
She bites into the same cookie with much less restraint and then smiles, chewing happily. “Mm hm.” She leans back against his chest and he wraps his arms around her as she continues munching. “Just this one and then it's back to bed with you, little mouse.” She nods, mouth too full to answer and focus far too lost in the pleasure of her treat to respond verbally. Gilbert sighs, turning to rest his cheek against the top of her head. He is utterly and completely at peace.
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Tagging: @xbalayage @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @curious-skybunny @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @portrait-ninja @ikesimpleton @ikemenlibrary @mastering-procrastinating @namine-somebodies-nobody @greatstarlightstarfish @queen-dahlia @scorchieart @nightghoul381
For Leon content: @leonscape
For Gilbert and Leon: @ozalysss
For Keith: @drewadoodle-dandy
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maeko-kun · 10 months
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The princes bedtime 😂🛏💤
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candied-boys · 5 months
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OMG DID YOU GUYS SEE THE NEW JP UPDATE?! THERE ARE CHIBIS JUST LIKE VAMP BETWEEN LOADING 🥹🥹🥹🥹
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Translations below
It is rumored that...
Clavis was suffering from cowlicks, and so developed his own hair oil. He showed it off town and it flew off the shelves. It's a popular product even today...
It is rumored that...
When Luke often takes naps in the garden, the animals gather around him and begin to nap together. Sometimes there are so many that you can't even get within a 10m/30ft radius of him...
It is rumored that...
Yves sometimes shares the sweets he makes with the animals that live in the royal court...
It is rumored that...
His beloved horse, Maron, loves Licht so much that she won't let go of him, and Licht even sleeps with Maron in the stable...
It is rumored that...
While Nokto generally spends his nights seducing women, he occasionally visits the library late at night to study. When he ends up bumping into Clavis, it creates a very awkward atmosphere...
It is rumored that...
The first time Keith compounded a truth-telling agent to try it out for himself, his butler desperately tried to stop him...
It is rumored that...
If you pass by Rio's room, you can sometimes hear passionate confessions like "I adore you!" and "I love you!"
It is rumored that...
One can often see servants lining up in hopes of being picked to serve Silvio so they can get a reward later...
It is rumored that...
On days when Jin discovers a delicious drink*, you can hear him humming/whistling in the bathroom...
* Note i think this means more like "a new cocktail recipe" or a new drink on a menu at a bar or something
It is rumored that...
During his stay at Rhodolite Castle, Gilbert was often seen going to the kitchen, and after he left, a large amount of food would have disappeared completely...
It is rumored that...
Leon, being a popular man, has been confessed to by girls as young as 5 years old and as old as grandmothers in their 60s...
It is rumored that...
The name Chevalier is derived from the fact that the Michele family has been a family of knights for generations...*
*Note that "knight" in French is literally chevalier.
It is rumored that...
The bureaucrats who respect Sariel all seem to own Sariel's favorite quill, and it is said that you can tell if someone is a Sariel fan by looking at the quill they use...
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Jin: I'm not leaving until you take a sip.
Chevalier: (continues paperwork-ing)
Jin: Just one.
Chevalier: (dips pen in ink)
Jin: Just the one.
Chevalier: (ignores the glass of wine prodding his cheek)
Jin: Ah~
Chevalier: (turns his chair)
Jin: (is somehow on the other side) Ah~?
Chevalier: (sigh) Will you leave if I do this?
Jin: Scout's honor. Just one sip and you'll never hear from me again.
Chevalier: (sets his quill down)
Chevalier: (executes an awkward-elegant sip)
Jin: (pats his back) Atta boy.
Chevalier: I am not a child.
Jin: Maybe not to the others :)
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chevlvrs · 12 days
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I'm bored & i love these types of posts, so expect more 🤭🤭
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Ikevamp version here
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aquagirl1978 · 2 months
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acreattaviacco · 7 months
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Rhodolite Princes With: Rio, Sariel, Emma
My compilation of artworks that are the Rhodolite Princes with the castle staff?(Rio, Sariel, Emma)
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A few notes:(Just my ramblings)
-I drew all the Rhodolite Princes and Sariel! I am a happy bunny now!...and time to finish other artworks oh well -The more I draw Chevalier the more I find out he's fun to draw next to Rio, Yves and Silvio hahahaha...help me I'm memorized by his hair -The combination of Luke, Rio, and Licht while a bit melancholic it's a wholesome trio that is similar to the Keith, Licht and Yves Trio -I was gonna put all the names of the princes but that would be redundant but the tags ouch...and hope you like it
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queen-dahlia · 1 year
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Here are the grooms 💖💖💖
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dotster001 · 5 months
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No Touching!
Summary: Leon/Yves/Jin/Clavis x gn!reader. You don't know how to get through to them. So you tell them no touching until they change for the better.
A/N: Idk how I feel about Silvio, but this is the plot of his event route rn, and it's so cute that I decided to steal it.
CW: Jin is his own warning, so is Clavis, idk if there's any real warnings in this one though, oh blood and injury in Jin's part, allusions to spoilers for both Jin and Clavis' routes
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You told him he has to take care of himself (take breaks, have a decent bedtime, etc,) and he laughed, assuring you that he was fine. Since this wasn't the first time you'd had this conversation, you knew you had to take drastic measures.
“Until you learn to take care of yourself, you are not allowed to touch me.”
He stared at you for a minute, before bursting into laughter, reaching out his hand to mess up your hair. But you took a step back, just out of reach.
He grinned sharply.
“Real cute, Y/N. We'll see.”
It's Leon, so you know he's not trying to be patronizing…but the doubt in his voice in your ability to hold out just furthers your resolve.
He doesn't seem to believe you're serious at first. You're dating, why wouldn't he be able to wrap his arms around you, or press a short kiss to your cheek? Why wouldn't he be able to kiss you and cuddle you? Why wouldn't he be able to mess up your hair? Why shouldn't he scoop you up and take you where he wants to go?
He makes it about three days, partially because of how busy he is, before he calls you into his office for “an audience”. That's how you know you're in trouble. And then he gives you a talking to. About how this is childish. About how he's a busy man, and you're his stress relief, and now he doesn't have that. You almost forget how this started, giving into his speech.
But he slips. As you reach your hand over the desk to place it in his, his eyes twinkle with triumphant mischief. You pull your hand back at the last second, before standing up, and reminding him of the deal. Once he learns how to take care of himself, he can touch you again. He looks disappointed, but laughs anyway, saying he didn't think that would work, but worth a try.
It takes a little while. It takes some underhanded ploys on your part. It takes Sariel and Yves coming at him from two other angles. But eventually you catch him going to bed at consistent times. You see him delegating some of his paperwork to his brothers. You see him setting aside time to just be.
When you decide he's got the point, you silently slip into his office. You pull up a chair quietly, and sit next to him as he works. Then you place your hand on his knee.
It takes Leon a second to notice, but he slowly looks up from his work, then looks over at you. He smiles softly, and reaches out to cup your cheek. You tilt your head, preparing to nuzzle into his hand. But at the last second, his hand redirects to your head, and he nuzzles your hair so hard you're worried you'll get a migraine.
While you're dazed from the rigorous noogie, he wraps his arms around your middle, then drags you to the sofa in his office, laying you down, hovering over your body, and trapping your lips in a hungry kiss.
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As belle, naturally you have to interact with his brothers. And he doesn't mind! He understands, and he even encourages it. But…Clavis? Recently you've been assisting Clavis with a project Chevalier gave him. Day one, he'd stood far far away from you while he watched, for his own safety. But he was fine with everything. Clavis seemed to be acting respectful. So Yves decides it's safe to leave you.
Which must bore Clavis, because suddenly his hand is on your lower back as he leans in closer to you. You know it's just to get at Yves. But Yves has become far more secure, so he won't- oh no he's yelling. 
Once the project is finished, you think it's over, but both beasts have other plans. It's become an all purpose war, and you're the poor soul stuck between them. You know how this has to end. 
“Evie,” you say as Yves “brushes all traces of Clavis out of your hair”.
“Hm?” He grunts. Grunts. Lord, Clavis has really got to him.
“You know if you don't react, Clavis will get bored and go play with someone else, right?”
Another grunt, this one far angrier.
“Evie?”
“He shouldn't touch what's mine.”
Oh. The beast is out to play. Brilliant.
“I'm mine, Yves.”
He groans, and practically slams the brush on the table.
“Yes, but you're my partner. Therefore no one else should touch you. Therefore he should keep his filthy hands to himself.”
“Okay, you need to calm down-”
“He needs to go away!”
You stare at him for a moment, deep in thought.
“I want you to remember, what I'm about to do is for your own good.”
He looks like he has a retort without you even saying anything, but you push on.
“Until you learn how not to react to him, you don't get to touch me. If he ‘can’t touch me’, neither can you!”
You walk out to a flurry of screams that you were not prepared for. You knew he'd flip out. You didn't expect this much.
It doesn't take long for him to not react to Clavis, because he just isn't talking to you, either. His stubbornness far outweighs his jealousy, and now that he isn't working adjacent to you. It's lonely for you, but, more importantly, boring for Clavis. After realizing Yves is no longer there for him to have fun with, he breezes through the rest of the project, and quite literally sends you on your way.
“Yves! I'm So proud of you!” You say happily as you enter the kitchen. Yves is angrily whisking eggs. While staring at the far wall. His jaw clenched.
“Yves?” You walked over to him, running your fingers through his hair. “Look, I know you hated that, but if you can put last Clavis like this every time, he'll give up on messing with you!”
He continues whisking and staring at the wall.
“Aren't you going to spill your eggs if you keep whisking that hard?”
“I don't like touching you, anyway!” He shouted, slamming the bowl of eggs on the counter.
Both of you stared at each other, and his eyes widened as he realized what he said.
You know he didn't mean it. You know it's a defense mechanism. But, dang, he's so easy to mess with. So you turn on your heel to leave.
“Wait, wait, wait,” he cries, and you feel his arms around you, as he presses his face to your back. “‘m sorry. I love you. I missed touching you.”
You hum in agreement.
“I'll give you some of the cake I'm making. I'm very sorry.”
“I'll forgive you,” you say with a giggle.
After he finishes the cake, he sits in your lap, and hand feeds it to you.
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You know he's the secret that holds up the kingdom. But this can't be good for him. He can't keep showing up in your shared room, covered in blood. Sometimes he doesn't even wake you up. He just walks in, lays down, and passes out. Sometimes he doesn't even make it to the bed. He gets to the side of the bed you sleep on, sits down, and falls asleep, and you wake up to blood all over your carpet. 
It's the third time this month. Luckily you were up this time, so you cleaned the wound, and bandaged him up. 
You quietly finished wrapping bandages around him. You could practically hear him grin as he spoke.
“Wasn't that bad tonight.”
In pain, or not in pain, he relished anytime your hands were on him. Which took the bite out of your silent treatment.
Wait…
“Anyway,” he reached out for you, intending to pull you against him, but you took a step back. He grinned.
“Oh? Are we playing a game?”
“You can't keep doing this. There has to be someone who can do all this from time to time. Someone who can give you a break.”
“Nope,” he reached out again, and you took another step back. This time he quirked an eyebrow.
“I don't like that look on your face,” he said, still grinning. 
You took another step back, hopefully far enough back if the beast decided to pounce.
“I'm going to sleep in the guest room. I really want you to think about training someone to help you.”
The beast tensed up, and you took another step back in preparation.
“And until you do that, you cannot touch me,” you said the last bit as fast as possible then bolted out the door. You slammed it behind you, seeing Jin two steps behind.
He naturally did not take to your suggestion. He seemed to think it was a joke at first. Which is why you locked the guest room door. He tries to sweet talk his way in, but when he sees you're serious, the voice outside the door gets quiet.
The next morning, when you get up to get ready for the day, you find Jin sleeping outside the door. You press a kiss to his cheek and he opens his eyes.
“I thought I wasn't allowed to touch you.” “I didn't say I couldn't touch you.” “Well, new rule, you can't touch me until I'm allowed to touch you.”
He plays so dirty. He stands literal inches from you, his hot breath in your ear as he whispers about how once you crack, you'll never leave his arms again. He'll tell you in graphic detail how he's going to kiss you so hungrily that you won't even think about trying this again. 
“I told you! No touching!” You snapped at Jin, ignoring the book you had been attempting to take off the shelf.
You couldn't. You just couldn't. His hot breath, and pretty words, and constant presence was making this a punishment for you, not him.
“I'm not touching you,” he purred. You looked to the side. His lips, indeed, weren't touching you, just hovering. You looked down. His hands weren't on your hips, just hovering. But both his lips and his hands were so close, you could have sworn you felt him touching you. And this wasn't the first instance. 
Over the last twelve hours, his hovering was closer and closer, so that you constantly felt his touch on you, despite him not touching you at all.
Between that and his pretty words….
“God! Okay! I give up! Bleed to death if you want, just touch me!” You cried. Instantly, the distance was closed, and his hands were on your hips, his lips on your cheek. 
“I'll be more careful, since it bothers you so much,” Jin whispered, as one of his hands left your hip, and moved to massage comforting circles on your stomach.
He didn't learn anything from this. At least not the lesson he should learn. But you've learned that you'll need a different tactic to get through to him.
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He'd been slipping into old habits, staying up as late as he physically could to study, talking down to himself in his head, skipping meals to care for his kingdom. Cyran, and his servants, and citizens know that you're the one who keeps him sane, and beg you to talk to him. They're worried.
So you try to.
“Clavis,” you said, trying to get his attention as he hastily made a plate of food from the spread the servants had laid out.
“Aw, feeling needy? Don't worry, I'll tend to you when I'm finished,” he said with a smirk.
You'll give him that. He may neglect himself, but he never neglects you.
“I'm worried you're overdoing it.”
“I assure you, as a gentleman, I would never give you cause to worry.”
It's a back and forth, where he clearly wants to rush to his room to finish something, but also doesn't want you to be too mad at him when he wants cuddles later. It gets tense, and finally you shout.
“If you're not going to take these concerns seriously, you can't touch me until you learn to!”
Clavis' plate falls to the ground as his jaw drops. Various servants are shaking their heads in fear, kneeling on the floor in prayer, Cyran himself looks green, like he could throw up at any moment.
Clavis opens and shuts his mouth a couple times, before a slow smile spreads on his face. You know that smile. That smile is never good.
“Alright,” he says, before walking out of the room. The second he's gone, the silence is broken, and everyone is crying, shouting, and talking at you.
You don't see Clavis for a week. But everyone else does. And they all come back to you to tell you all about it. Apparently, with his favorite person not around to play with, the pranks and horrible cooking have skyrocketed. He's acting maniacal, like a true villain.
Not your problem. At least that's what you say that first week. Then you walk out of your room in the morning, and slip on a banana peel. When you look up, you see various innocent victims also slipping on the peel lined hallway. Including Cyran, who looks on the brink of tears as he pleads with you to talk to Clavis.
You find him in his office. Eating a banana.  He says something along the lines of, “If it isn't the love of my life. How can I help you?” “You know why I'm here.” “Do I?” “Yes.”
You tell him you get that he's bored without you to focus his energy on. But leave the Innocents out of it. He puts on a shocked face, assuring you he has no idea what you're talking about. But with the glint in his eyes, you know he heard you. In all the wrong ways.
It's quiet. Too quiet. Cyran assures you that Clavis has been doing his work as normal, just with less pranking. But still. It's far too quiet for your liking. 
Then the other shoe drops. You find a note in your room. A ransom note of sorts. You can't read it, but you catch the words, Rio, visit, and tower. So you leave your room in a rush. Only to be stopped by Cyran, who hands you an object. He tells you it's a newish invention, used for being out on hot days. He's been saving it for an emergency, and the time has come.
Clavis gets you revealing nightwear from time to time. But you've never worn pants like this. They couldn't even really be called pants, as there was very little leg to them. Cyran told you that people called them “shorts”.
Your legs were exposed, but you knew this would destroy the Clavis bomb.
You walked up to the tower, and when you entered you saw him looking out the far window.
“Y/N, I've been expecting yo-” he almost sounded like he was going to vomit the way he cut himself off as he turned to you.
Rio rotated his tied up body around, then went bright red, his eyes lighting up as he spoke excitedly behind the gag.
“Geh,” Clavis said, less a word and more a sound, as he stared at your legs.
You stalked over to Rio, feeling powerful, as you un gagged him.
“Y/N, you look so beautiful,” Rio said with hearts in his eyes. “And you came to save me? I can't help but fall more in love with you!”
That snapped Clavis out of it, mostly. He strode over to Rio, and covered his eyes, ignoring the disappointed whine.
“What- what- what-,” he choked out, unable to put a thought together. “Legs,” he spit out, still sounding like he'd vomit.
“Free Rio, prove to me you can take care of yourself, and you can see me in these shorts whenever you want,” you tried to say it without embarrassment, because while Clavis could get jealous, that wouldn't stop him from asking you to wear them everyday.
He whined, reaching out for you with the grabby hands of a toddler. You took a step back and gave him a stern look.
“Y/N,” he whined. “I'll be good. I'll take care of myself. I'll let the hound go. Just lemme touch!”
“You swear?” You ask.
He nodded quickly, his eyes pinned to your legs.
“Release Rio, then you can-”
He moved so fast, you couldn't finish the thought. He cut Rio loose, fell to his knees, wrapped his arms around your legs, and pressed the side of his face to your thighs.
All in the span of seconds.
“Rio, can you-” you began.
“I'm leaving, don't worry. I'll see you later.” He walked past, and you stared down at the blissed out Clavis who was singing something under his breath, to your legs.
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lorei-writes · 3 months
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HC: Awfully Similar
Chevalier, Clavis, Leon, Jin, Silvio ~1k words Premise: Little (awful) ways in which his child is (awfully) similar to him.
Chevalier
His daughter does not reply to questions when the answer is positive. Additionally, ever since she has learnt to speak in full sentences, she took a liking to the words "indeed" and "drivel".
"Say 'aaah'."
"Drivel, papa."
"Your throat is sore. You have to drink your syrup."
"Indeed. Still, drivel, papa."
His son is dreadfully difficult in the mornings. It's so bad that only Chevalier is (generally) able to wake him up. (That being said, waking Chevalier up is still a herculean task, the difficulty level of which has only been increasing with each child. Uncle Clavis is devastated whenever he has to look after his nephews and nieces... or makes the mistake of scheduling anything before noon.)
None of them like breakfasts -- the only way to get them to eat it is having either of their parents to prepare it. No matter how hard Chevalier tries, they declare to like their mother's cooking better... possibly to mess with him a little bit. (Chevalier? Jealous? Over such trivial matter? What drivel.)
His youngest son has inherited his intimidating aura. Overall, he looks just like Chevalier when he was little. However, much like Clavis, he's also a ball of chaotic laughter. The juxtaposition gives his uncles whiplash every single time.
Clavis
His son is awfully dramatic.
"Father! Guard! I am being taken from this world, the dawn lights shall welcome me no more!" <- he has fallen and scratched his knee while on a walk with Cyran
"Mother loves me not, papa."
"Oh? Why should you say that?"
"Why? Isn't it obvious? She's cooked me brussels sprouts."
His son is also vert studious when it comes to learning. His primary interests lie in physics and... literature, which explains some of his peculiar claims. (Luckily, Clavis knows how to manage a library.)
Clavis' younger son enjoys pranks and experiments, or better yet, doing both at once. Especially if the target is to be his sister (the youngest sibling). He's also taken to picking locks -- preparing ones he cannot open is something of an evolutionary race between him and his father. Ah, those alluring cabinets with chemical reagents! (Clavis has taught him how to pick locks. He caused this.)
That being said, the little lady of the bunch has a frightful foresight (much like her uncle). The pranks never succeed. (Were she not a near-perfect copy of Clavis appearance-wise, they'd likely wonder whether she was truly his daughter.)
Leon
All of his children. All of them. Sneak. Out. And to make matters worse? They split up, so if Leon wants them back at the palace, he needs to independently track down at least three people (the youngest ones usually do not leave their older siblings). Sometimes they also bring friends along! (Clavis' children are the friends.)
Another growing issue-non-issues is that they have made friends in town and now sneak them into the palace. Which, admittedly, is not something Leon is particularly bothered by (assuming he is distracted from the very real possibility of his children being kidnapped, as now everybody knows they are royalty -- nickname change from "Black" to "White" may occur in the next few years). However, the same cannot be said about the visiting nobles.
No matter how much food there was to begin with, none is ever left on the table. His son's have... healthy... appetites.
Both of his daughters are avid readers. However, they tend to get tired easily when reading... so they alternate. They usually pick a book together and read it aloud. (2 pages - change of the reader - 2 pages - change - ... )
Jin
Jin has two children, a daughter and a son. His daughter is an effortless charmer -- pretty like a doll, with infectious laughter and jokes that somehow caught on even when all she could say was "gugu gaga". (...At least Jin laughed?) Meanwhile, his son gets into situations. Shirtless.
That being said, it isn't necessarily wrong for his son to get involved. After all, he always does it to protect one of his cousins or his sister (...or to cover for them, but well, solidarity is appreciated). But why shirtless?
They both fight over lollipops. All. The. Time. And when they don't fight over them, they cry due to having none. They are not going to have unlimited teeth in their life! Good dental habits need to be established early on! (Jin also cries in lollipop rehab. Solidarity!)
Jin may have only two children, but their little family also includes four dogs. His children have an interesting affinity towards finding animals in need of help, both wild and domesticated. (You could say that Jin got roped into running the first -- unofficial -- animal shelter & rescue in the entirety of Rhodolite. He's managed to rehome the majority of the animals brought in... save for those four dogs. He just couldn't say "no" after his children nursed them back to health. He was and still is proud of them for doing that.)
Silvio
His daughter (3 years old) tries to open everything with a kick first. And by everything I mean everything -- a book? Kick! Doll house? Kick! Cabinet door? Kick! Balcony door? First she walks into it and then she kicks.
Silvio's at a loss there. He can't exactly have her wear steal cap boots. (Or... can he?)
To make matters worse, Silvio has made the mistake of taking his older daughter to the docks. She was interested in ships and his work! He wanted to show her! He really had good intentions!
And now she curses like a six years old sailor. Which is to say, poorly and fairly inaccurately, but in large quantities. And she sure is teaching this to her younger sister.
Their favourite game to play is called "Jingle-Jangle", which is a cute term for breaking into their father's closet and turning themselves into an ornate human orchestra. They put on all of Silvio's jewellery and then run through the palace, every so often losing a ring or a necklace, or perhaps both. It creates a convenient trail for Carlo (or Silvo, or Emma -- whoever is first at the scene) to follow... Provided that nobody takes it first. ("Ha?! Papa is so rich he could buy you anything!" were Silvio's famous last words.)
You've seen a typo? Let me know!
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violettduchess · 10 months
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A/N: Better late than never! Not a request, just my imagining what these lovely suitors would be like with an infant that wakes up crying 💜
CW: babies, breastfeeding
Suitors x female reader
WC: 2045
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A cry rings out through a peaceful summer night at the palace.
It is small, but powerful.
And very, very insistent. 
Leon
A light sleeper by nature, he gets up, murmuring for you to try and keep sleeping when he notices you stirring too. "I'll see what I can do for the little peanut." He crosses the room to the white bassinet with its pale pink ruffles, a gift from Uncle Yves. Inside his infant daughter is fussing. Tiny fists are clenching and unclenching as her small head turns fitfully left and right.
“Ah, c’mere sweetheart,” he says, voice still rough with sleep as he lifts her gently, laying her against his bare shoulder. One large hand rubs her back as he walks the length of the room, her tiny cheek warm as a spot of sunshine against his shoulder.
“I can take her–” you start to say as you push yourself upright in the bed, but he shakes his head, holding up a finger.
“I think we’ve got this handled, love. Take a look.” He walks over to your side of the bed, his hand still gently stroking the baby’s back. Her tiny head with its halo of black hair rests against him and is still. Not able to see her face, he turns sideways, giving you the sweetest view of your handsome, bare-chested husband holding your daughter close, her small face now relaxed again in sleep. Her father’s warmth was enough to solve whatever problem had woken her and she's drifted back off to the soft, hazy world of baby dreams.
You smile, feeling the way your heart expands, a paradox: never has it been so full of love and yet so very, very light.
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Clavis
He wakes up immediately at his son’s first cry and is out of bed before the sound can even penetrate your deep sleep. He knows how often you get up, how often you are the only one who can satisfy your son’s voracious demands for food but Clavis has told himself that the little tyrant's demands that don't require milk, he will take care of himself. You, his dearest of dears, need as much sleep as you can get.
He bends down over the baby’s cradle, brushing back the boy’s angel-soft hair, the same twilight shade as his. “So noisy at such a late hour. My my. This won’t do.” Carefully he scoops up his son, adjusting his pajamas and then his hand freezes. 
“Oh dear. I think I see why you’re so upset, little Lelouch.” The baby continues to whimper, little cries that, although Clavis knows they are harmless, still feel like they are stabbing right into the center of his tender heart. He never wants to hear his child in distress.
Reaching up, he turns the small knob on the lamp above the dresser where you have all of the baby’s changing things neatly laid out. His son squeaks out little sounds of agitation. “I’ve got you, don't worry. Papa's got you, always and--my goodness, how does such a tiny body produce this much liquid?” He talks, his words soft and almost sing-song as he changes his son’s pajamas and diaper with practiced hands. The baby, now removed of his damp clothing, stops whimpering, instead blinking up at his father with wide golden eyes.
“There has got to be a better solution to this than soaking all those linen diapers,” he mutters as he carefully slides chubby legs into fresh little stockings. “I bet I could invent something that might absorb all your perfectly healthy but still oh so stinky messes much better.” The baby kicks his legs and waves his arms, as if cheering in agreement and Clavis laughs softly, lifting his son back into his arms. “You agree with Papa? You think I can do that? Of course you do.” 
He walks back to the cradle, turning his head to place a gentle kiss to the apple of his son’s plump cheek. He could hold him in his arms forever, never tiring of that infant smell, that the feel of his warm little body so trusting and sweet against him. 
He pauses in front of the cradle. “Hmm….I know. Let’s go on a little nocturnal journey down the hall while talking through some chemicals and their rates of absorption. I bet you’ll be a perfectly delightful assistant.”
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Jin
Both you and Jin yawn, sleepily rubbing at your eyes as your daughter’s cries fill the bedroom. One glance at the time and he sighs, reaching over to tenderly touch your cheek with the back of his hand. “She’s on time, our little one,” he murmurs in his deep voice even as you are pushing yourself up with one hand and already unbuttoning your nightgown with the other.
He gets up, walking over to the crib where the infant is crying, her shock of brownish hair standing up in every direction. “Mommy’s already getting ready for you, princess,” he says as he reaches down and lifts her. She’s so small in his large hands. He walks back to bed, murmuring soft little shushing noises, and then carefully hands her over to you. You help her find the right position and then sigh when she begins to nurse, her cries immediately quieted. Glancing up, you find Jin sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you both with a curiously thoughtful expression.
“What is it?” 
He watches you a moment, then shakes his head, a sheepish grin on his handsome face. “It’s just….I’ve always liked that particular body part.” You snort, running your fingers over your baby’s fine chestnut hair. “That’s an understatement.” He chuckles, shrugging before continuing his thought. “Yeah well…it’s just…I think….now that I see ‘em being used to feed our little girl….I think….I think I actually like them MORE now.”
You can’t help it. You start giggling, a burst of yellow happiness that colors the gray exhaustion of new parenthood. “God, I love you.” You crook a finger at him and he matches your smile as he climbs back into bed and leans close to you. You place a kiss on his chiseled cheekbone, warm and affectionate. A sigh born of tender happiness is his answer, along with the words, “I love you too.”
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Silvio
“Stay in bed. I’ll go.” He’s up, striding across the bedroom to the bassinet before you can even finish rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Aye, piccolino, sono qui.” He reaches down, running a hand over the restless infant's back. But no soothing words or pets seem to be enough. He lifts the baby carefully, still in that new stage of fatherhood where a baby feels like the most fragile thing in the world.
You watch your two pale-haired men, frowning slightly as the littlest one continues to fuss. "He can't be hungry again, can he?" You have just finished feeding him until he fell into a milk-drunk state of blissful sleep, his body heavy and warm, not thirty minutes ago. He had been sleeping so soundly that hope for more than an hour of sleep at one time had risen in your heart.
Silvio lays the baby against his shoulder. His hands are bare, with only his simple gold wedding band left on his elegant fingers. Every other piece of jewelry has been removed for the sake of his child. Necklaces would get in the way of his son sleeping on his bare chest. Earrings might hinder his ability to press his cheek against his fine, moonlight-spun hair. 
"Ain't no baby in the world that could eat again after all that milk." He inclines his head towards his son. "Listen to you, cucciolo. All that growling." He rubs his small back in soothing circles. And then the most extraordinary thing happens: the tiny prince lets out the most raucous of burps. The kind that sends a quake through his little body.
"Dio mio," his father mutters, blue eyes wide as he looks down at his son. You grin through your sleepiness. "Here I thought only his grumbling was like his father." 
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Gilbert
His daughter's cry shatters the night's peace in an instant. Both you and Gilbert wake up immediately, but he's quicker than you, throwing back the covers and crossing the room to the cradle carved from darkest walnut. 
He spots the problem immediately. At some point during the night she had kicked her blanket to the end of her cradle where it lies bunched up and useless. Her socks are nowhere to be seen, a display of her magician-like talent for making them disappear. He reaches down and sure enough, her tiny feet are like ice blocks.
"Always the same thing with you, oder Mäuschen? What have socks ever done to you?” He lifts her from her cradle, tucking her securely into the crook of his arm as he makes his way over to the dresser that has been designated hers. You reach across the bed, turning on the lamp that sits on his nightstand and he glances at you over his shoulder, eyes bright with appreciation. “Thank you, Häschen.” Now he can see better, his fingers trailing over the tiny rolled up socks and tights. When the baby makes a small cooing sound, he stops. “These?” He pulls out a pair of soft black tights embroidered with mini red roses. “Ahh a good choice.”
He hums as he walks over to the changing table, the sound soft and soothing, the gentle rush of a river through the night. As he carefully changes her diaper and then works her plump little legs into the tights, humming gives way to him singing. "Der Mond ist aufgegangen…"
She is curious, all thoughts of crying gone, watchful crimson eyes blinking as she keeps her gaze on the source of the calming sound. “Fertig,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to the soles of her now covered feet. "All done." Then he lifts her, carrying her not to her cradle but back to the bed. He slides in, leaning back against the support of the many bed pillows, settling in. Her eyes are already closing as she snuggles in close against his chest.
You watch them both with a smile as tender as the moon’s joy in the stars.
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Chevalier
The man who took an army to wake up is on his feet in an instant. He is silent as he crosses the room, leaning down to check on his crying daughter, her pale head of blond hair gleaming silver in the moonlight. He carefully lifts her from the bassinet, marveling in the back of his mind at how very small she is.
He glances back to the bed where you are still deeply asleep. “Your mother is exhausted from all your demands.” He wouldn’t usually condone speaking to a baby as they are incapable of understanding but he’s found that she calms down when she hears his voice. Even now her whimpering stops, her tiny cheek resting on the soft linen of his shirt. She’s gone very still, as if truly listening to his words. “You’ve eaten twenty minutes ago. We can eliminate hunger. Your bottom is….” He pats it gently, checking. “...perfectly dry. The room is neither too hot nor too cold.” He wraps his hands around her feet. She’s still wearing her white socks trimmed with yellow lace. “Your feet are adequately covered.” He tips his head back to look down at her. Her perfect, tiny fingers are curled into his shirt and her body feels heavy, drowsy with sleep. 
She attempts to turn her head, burying her face in his shoulder and he reaches up, helping her, running his strong fingers over her downy hair when she has found a position that is comfortable. Chevalier walks over to the white wooden rocking chair you have positioned by the window and lowers himself into it.
“You simply wanted to be held, didn’t you?” A heavy, stuttering sigh leaves her small body, almost as if in answer to her father’s line of questioning. He cups her head with his hand, tilting his face down to place a soft kiss on her hair. “I’ll comply, little one.” He settles into the chair and begins rocking gently back and forth, father and daughter, bathed in loving, silvery moonlight.
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Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @queen-dahlia @aceuuuuu @scorchieart
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maeko-kun · 3 months
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Almost by height and age 🤭
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ikesimpleton · 2 months
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