I Believe You Asked For Napoleon And Kuromi ~ Full Version Coming Soon

I believe you asked for Napoleon and Kuromi ~ full version coming soon

Falling Ahead - Part 2

Do you ever think Chevalier was just as shy around Yves as Yves was around him? Probably not, but now you're thinking it...

Ages: Yves (4), Clavis (7)

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“Clavis?”

“...And a cinnamon stick, because it smells nice. And a little pickle juice to give it a kick…”

“Clavis…”

“...And a pinch of turmeric for a pop of color. And lots and lots and lots of sugar—”

“Clavis!”

Clavis teetered on the stool, but quickly regained his balance by grabbing the edge of the counter. “What? More sugar?”

Pungent fumes wafted around the kitchen, and Yves peered into the frothing mixing bowl through scrunched up eyes. “Clavis, it looks yucky.”

“That’s because we didn’t bake it yet. You have to bake the batter before it becomes a yummy cake, understand?” Clavis explained, gently patting his brother’s head. Dusty remains of yellow turmeric and white sugar sprinkled over Yves, making the boy sneeze with gusto.

“Goodness! Are you getting cold, Yves? Don’t worry, we’ll light the oven soon. Then we can sit by it and plan the party while we wait for your cake to finish.” Clavis grabbed a wooden spoon and began mixing the dubious ingredients, turning the bowl a more sinister foaming puce with each pass. Yves gulped and covered his mouth and nose.

“No, thank you,” he whispered feebly.

“Nonsense, you’re shaking worse than autumn leaves! Talking will make you forget about the cold, so let’s start with the guest list.” Clavis reached for a jar of crushed scallops and added it to the bowl as he spoke. “Now, who do you want to invite to your birthday party?”

Yves slightly lifted the hand from his mouth. “My brothers.”

“All of them?” asked Clavis. Yves nodded.

“I don’t think there will be enough cake for everyone,” said Clavis, subtly scooping out spoonfuls of batter and dropping them over the far end of the counter. 

“They can have my slice,” Yves offered.

“No no no. The birthday boy has to have birthday cake. That’s the rule,” said Clavis.

“Can I have a different present, please?” Yves asked, turning away from the bowl.

“Silly Yves. This isn’t your present. Presents have to be a surprise, understand? And my real present to you will make you scream with so much joy you’ll say—”

“Aaaah!”

Yves leapt off the stool and buried his face into Clavis’s shirtfront. Clavis grabbed the counter again to steady himself and looked around the kitchen for what could have spooked Yves. But he didn’t have to search for long.

Standing in the dimly lit doorway was Chevalier, a stoic look on his face and a thick leather-bound book in his arms.

“Chevalier, you meanie! You’re scaring my precious little brother!” Clavis whipped the spoon out of the bowl and brandished it like a sword, but Chevalier paid no attention to the impromptu weapon nor the putrid lumps it dripped on the floor as he approached the counter and extended his arms. The book in his hands was sharp and glimmering, a delectable drawing of sweet cakes and pastries printed on its cover, all smartly tied with a soft pink ribbon bow. 

Yves whimpered and slowly poked his face out to look at Chevalier. Too slowly for Clavis to notice. 

“Didn’t you hear me? I said you weren’t invited here!” Clavis shouted, waving the spoon threateningly in the air. Chevalier calmly tilted his head to avoid the “attacks”, but Clavis’s frenzied movements flung globs of batter in all directions. They hit walls, cabinets, pots and pans and plates, and eventually the book with an incredible SPLAT!

It all happened in an instant. Clavis paled. Chevalier darkened. Yves screamed and ran, slipping on the batter Clavis scooped earlier and knocking into the counter. The bags of turmeric and sugar fell over the edge and burst on Yves, leaving him a teeny, weepy, sneezy mess. 

Color returned to Clavis’s cheeks as quickly as it left. “No no Yves, please don’t cry! It’s all Chevalier’s fault! I told you he shouldn’t come to the party!” 

Chevalier set the book down on a clean section of the counter and stepped up on the stool. Clavis blanched once again.

“I mean, ahahaha! It worked! Just according to plan!” Clavis yelled, shakily brandishing the spoon again. “Happy birthday! Now weren’t you surprised by that, Yves? It was a fun little show, wasn’t it? Your big brother won the battle and you’re crying tears of joy, right? Right?”

Yves sobbed harder. Chevalier neatly pulled back his shirtsleeve and seized Clavis by the back of the head.

“I mean! I mean! Lookatallthoseingredientsyougatheredwecanmakeabizillionmorecakesandinviteabizillionmorepeopletoyourpartyisn’tthatjustwonder— NO NO NOOOOOO—!”

Chevalier dunked Clavis’s face into the mixing bowl. It is said that on that day, young prince Yves’s laughter could be heard as far as the throne room on the opposite side of the castle.

「うん、寂しいから一緒に行こう。お散歩 🫴 」

good night be happy!

A/N: A little fic inspired by @vioisgoinginsane and her delightful Cyran in Pyjamas art

Cyran x Reader

WC: 638

Head librarian of the royal palace is a job that suits you to a tee, but it comes with long hours, especially when arranging the procurement of foreign titles. By the time you are done with all your correspondences, first to the librarian in Jade and then the royal library of Tanzanite, the moon is hanging high in the inky black sky, a perfect crescent of silvery light. You hurry, feet whispering over the tiled floor of the palace, then crunching over the straw and grass along the path to the armory and then scuffling over the coarse gray stone of the armory steps. 

Above the collection of toothy weaponry is Cyran's bedroom: your destination on this warm, breezy night.

The oaken door, scarred and worn, opens on silent, well-oiled hinges. Cyran takes care of his things. One of the many admirable qualities about the Obsidian soldier that made you stumble and then fall for him. 

"Cyran?" 

You step into the room, lit only by the amber glow of the oil lamps. Your eyes need a moment to adjust before you spot him.

He's asleep at his desk, his check pillowed by strong forearms. Around him papers are neatly stacked. Quill and inkwell tidied away. Everything is ordered and structured, except…..

You smile softly. His hair falls messily across his forehead, a curtain of red, deeper than the blaze of the blacksmith's forge. It is the red of the sky on the tipping point of night. The dark crimson of the Scarlatta rose, whose petals have been singed by loving kisses of darkness.

You cross the creaky wooden floor as quietly as you can, soaking in the sight of the man who never shows exhaustion, who handles every challenge, from Clavis's wild whims to military training maneuvers, with a stoic sense of pride. Your touch is gentle, trailing the back of your fingers across his cheek, rough with several days worth of russet stubble. 

The caress reaches him beyond the place where sleep reigns, his mind breaking from the soft cocoon it has woven around him. He stirs, his dark eyes blinking away the last strands of dreaming that cling to his consciousness like cobwebs.

"You're back," he murmurs in a voice sandpaper-rough with sleep. 

"Mm hmm." His hair is one of the most luxurious textures you've ever touched. Soft and fine as spun silk. It flows through your fingers like water over stone. "Come on, Red. Bedtime."

He grumbles as you lean forward, taking his strong hands in yours and urging him up and away from his desk. It's only when he's standing you notice he's already changed for bed.

Running a hand down the soft linen of his sleep shirt, you raise your gaze, your smile curved with curiosity, soft with affection.

"If you already changed, why didn't you get in bed?" You know how long his day was, stretching from the early rosy-fingers of dawn brushing the sky until the first diamond-edged star cut its way through the dark sheet of night.

He yawns, his words slow and honey-thick with sleepiness.

"I didn't want to fall asleep without you so I went to my desk…." He yawns again and your heart feels like it might burst with the swell of affection that floods it. He went to his desk to stay awake, to wait for you.

Gently you lead him to bed where he falls back onto his pillow with a heavy thump. His eyes are already closing as you pull the thin woolen blanket up over his broad chest.

"You're coming?" His voice is foggy with another yawn.

You lean down, anointing his forehead with a petal-soft kiss.

"I'll be right there, my love." Your smile is lambent with affection as you drink in the sight of him, this wonderful man who shelters your heart so tenderly in his calloused hands. "I'll be right there."

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @queen-dahlia @aceuuuuu @scorchieart @bubblexly

Happy birthday Clavis!🎉