#otome x reader

MAN I HAD TOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS I DIDNT WANNA STOP‼️ i want to do oneshots for ALL the ikepri boys (eventually) but here’s the first bit. next on the docket is clavis, yves, and nokto

beastie boys and the hunter — part I (prologue & chevalier) (NSFW 18+);

You are a Child of the Forests, raised in the wilds of the south with your kin, the Blackroot tribe. Four years ago you were honoured with the title of Matriarch, something given to the most skilled female warrior of the tribe. As a Matriarch, your duty is to venture into the worlds beyond the wilds and accrue knowledge for future generations.

prologue;

You broke into the palace.

You, what many of these folks would consider a lowly savage, broke into the palace of Rhodolite.

Perhaps it was a bad idea — it definitely was a bad idea — but you were raised to always protect your friends and allies, so by your pride as a Matriarch you simply couldn’t not do this.

As you were sneaking in, shrouded in the cover of night, you spot an unfamiliar man with hair the colour of lavender. High-born from the looks of his clothes. One of the princes? Seems likely.

For a moment, you consider killing him, but then you think of your friend Emma and decide against it. This was a rescue mission, not a hunt. You creep towards him on the balls of your feet, keeping as low and silent as you could. He hasn’t seemed to notice you yet. Good.

By the time he realises someone is behind him, it’s too late. You sling a cloth around his mouth and yank him backwards, and he immediately struggles against you. He’s stronger than you thought he’d be, most other city-dwellers are soft and squishy, but you continue to overpower him.

You leave him gagged and hog-tied behind a rose bush and enter the palace through the door he left out of. The halls were dark and empty, but you were trained to make use of other senses whenever sight failed you, and you swiftly make your way through the building.

The feeling of cold marble and wool rugs against your bare feet makes you cringe, but you keep your disgust from distracting you as best you can.

Arguably, you should’ve planned better for this. You don’t know where Emma is being held, and city-dwellers always have far too many rooms. You’re out of your comfort zone here, so all you can do is quietly try each door and hope your friend is behind one of them.

It takes longer than you like, but eventually brute-forcing wins the day and you find Emma reading a leather bound book by candlelight. You enter the room and close the door behind you in one quick motion, Emma still enraptured in the contents of her book. You sigh silently, she’s never as aware as she should be.

“Emma,” you call gently as you make your way towards her.

She sits up and locks eyes with you, “[Name]! You’re here— what are you doing here? How’d you know where I was?”

You hold a finger to your lips. “When I came back to town I tried to find you and Rio, but you weren’t there. The city-dwellers told me you’d been taken to the palace.”

“So you broke in?” She finally puts her book away and strides towards you, taking your hands in hers. “You could get into a lot of trouble for this! You need to leave!”

“I know. And you’re coming with me.” 

Before any heroic rescuing can take place, Emma’s door bursts open and light floods the room. Damn it. You wasted too much time searching the rooms. Four men enter, only one of them a familiar face, and you let go of Emma’s hands to draw your bow and aim an arrow at the towering blond’s forehead.

“[Name]!” Rio calls out, eyes wide in surprise.

“I knew it,” the blond said, glancing between you and Emma. “Someone was here for Belle.”

He sees your arrow trained on him and a dangerous glint shines in his dark blue eyes. His sword is drawn and he stares you down. You can tell by his confident movements that he’s well-practiced with that blade, and you keep your eyes locked on him.

“Do you really think you’ll get out of here alive?” he questions, his voice low and threatening.

“Maybe. Do you think you’ll be able to get me before I land an arrow between your eyes?” you answer. His lips quirk up a little in response.

You feel a shaky hand on your arm and look over at Emma, whose body is wracked with fear. “[Name], please don’t do this. I don’t want anyone to get hurt, let’s just talk about it, okay?”

You hesitate for a moment and glance to Rio. He’s also pleading you with his eyes. You scowl and return your gaze to the stranger in your sights. “What’s there to talk about? These princelings kidnapped you.”

“Kidnapped?” the man with dark hair muses. “I assure you it’s nothing so egregious. Please lay down your weapons and let us speak.”

The shorter blond one lays a hand on the taller man’s back. “Brother, please sheathe your sword. It’s clear she’s not an assassin. At least not for Belle.”

The warrior glares at you, but ultimately follows his brother’s wishes and lowers the blade. You follow suit and relax your bowstring, re-holstering the arrow. You don’t trust this, but you’ll try.

The man — who tells you his name is Sariel — leads you to another room teeming with books and paper stacks. Before an arched window stands a sturdy richly coloured desk surrounded by more strange men, and to your surprise the lavender-haired man is here as well. He catches your eye and scoffs, partly in amusement and annoyance, he didn’t seem to be a fan of getting tied up — but not entirely displeased either.

Sariel introduces himself and the eight princes. The ones you met in Emma’s room are Yves and Chevalier, the fifth and second princes respectively.

They explain the situation with Emma. For the past five days, she’s resided in the palace with Rio working as Belle, some kind of commoner that chooses the next King of Rhodolite. It sounded like rubbish to you, but then again so does most “civilised” culture.

In turn you introduce yourself. You are the Matriarch of the Blackroot tribe, roughly eighteen months ago you met Emma and Rio and you became friends. Whenever you came through Rhodolite after an adventure you’d return to the city to meet with them again. You cared for them both, so when you caught word that they were taken to the palace you could only assume the worst.

Sariel seemed strangely empathetic to this (maybe Emma’s influence?), and offered to let you stay for the duration of Belle’s service as an “unofficial knight” of sorts. You didn’t want to leave them alone in the hands of princelings, so you reluctantly agreed.

-

Chevalier Michel;

This wasn’t the first time Chevalier disagreed with the minister’s decision, and it sure as fuck wouldn’t be the last. This whole Belle farce was bad enough, but now she was allowed two guard dogs in the palace? One of them a barefoot savage that preferred to sleep in the dirt rather than a bed, no less.

Ah well. He supposed it wasn’t all bad. Belle would almost certainly be targeted by their enemies, and if someone else was watching her it meant he didn’t have to waste time doing it himself.

A few days after the commotion, Chevalier rises early to head to the training grounds. He’s spent too long cooped up in a study, he doesn’t want his sword arm getting rusty.

He can barely hold back his displeasure when he sees a familiar scant-clad Forest Child already there. You’re training with your bow, lining shot after shot into the straw-stuffed training dummies, and internally he wants to command you away. He feels that you wouldn’t respect his authority even so, but he’ll try regardless. He does not want to deal with another headache right now.

Chevalier heaves a sigh as he runs a hand through his pale blond hair and approaches. “Stand aside,” he orders, “I wish to train, and you’re in my way.”

You turn back and frown incredulously at him. You make a vague motion towards the row of dummies that you weren’t practicing with. “There’s enough to go around, help yourself.”

He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “I don’t want to get shot by one of your stray arrows. Move aside, now.”

After a few tense seconds of mutual glaring, you relent and put your bow away, stepping away from the yard. He thinks he’s won and turns to the dummies, but soon you return with a couple of crude hand-axes.

“What are you doing?” he grunts, not even looking your way. “Didn’t I just tell you to leave?”

“I decided I’d switch to melee practice. That way you won’t get ‘shot by one of my stray arrows’ right?”

He scowls. What a meddlesome woman.

An idea hatches in his mind, and instead of striking an inanimate object, he grabs a wooden practice sword and raises it in your direction. “If you’re not going to leave, at least make yourself useful. You will spar with me.”

You’re taken aback. Big old high and mighty prince wants to spar with a savage? And a woman, no less. From what you know of city-dwellers, women seemed to be treated as the more delicate sex, so it’s surprising that he’s willing to humour you.

“You want to spar with me, princeling?” you smirk, resting a fist on your hip.

“I’ve heard tales of the Forest Children’s aptitude in combat. If you wish to remain Belle’s protector, show me you’re worthy,” he answers nonchalantly. Then he looks at you with a challenging smirk of his own. “Not that I think you can touch me.”

You’re not too proud to say that you were enticed by his proposal. You drop your axes to the side and pick up a wooden sword like his, and return to face him.

“The rules are simple. Whoever lands a strike on the other one first, wins. And try not to feel too disappointed when you lose, Forest Child. Not everyone is made to be a hunter,” he mocks.

Your fingers twitch in annoyance. What could this prissy little lord possibly know about being a hunter? You look forward to wiping that look off his face.

You ready yourselves and he calls out when to begin. You decide to take the easiest course of action: rush him first and gage his strengths.

You’re faster than he expects, but he blocks your feeble attack easily and flings you back. His movements are fluid and confident, he’s faster and stronger than the average man, you can tell he’s a deadly combatant. But despite all his strengths, you can see an opening. It’s small, but it’s something.

You exchange blows in a flurry of blades, neither of you giving the other any quarter as you attempt to make contact. Finally, you see an opportunity.

You swing at him again and he meets your sword with his, but before he can push you back you kick at his imperfect stance and topple him. He tries to regain his balance before he falls, and you take the chance to fling his sword away. You grab his outstretched hand and twist it behind his back, bringing him to his knees with you standing tall behind him.

With a tap of wood against his neck, you say triumphantly, “Dead.”

Chevalier huffs, or perhaps it was a laugh? And despite not being able to see his face, you can tell he’s not too broken up about losing. “Not a bad showing. Maybe the stories of your kind aren’t all baseless.”

Something in him stirs as you let him get to his feet. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, and it’s almost like his consciousness is fighting against it, but he feels… respect? Admiration? Like he’s found someone useful for a change.

And he must admit, a woman with your kind of strength is… amusing. Maybe even a bit arousing — though he wasn’t ready to admit that to himself quite yet.

You don’t exchange any more words with him that day. And when you’re both in the training yard again the next morning, you say nothing then too. You spar again, another win for you.

The next day, he wins.

The day after that, you win.

It becomes a routine thing for you. Sometimes he manages to get ahead, but for the majority you’re able to best him.

A lesser man might feel emasculated, his pride damaged by the thought of being weaker than a woman, but Chevalier was no such man. Instead of brooding, he found your spars enlightening. Each morning he learned a little more about himself, and a little more about you.

For example, he hadn’t noticed that he guarded the right side of his body more than his left. Or that you reacted faster to sound than you did to sight.

You went from just sparring to discussing tactics, both on the battlefield and out in the woods.

“The ideal way to hunt is for the hunter to have already finished by the time the prey realises it,” he tells you simply as he thumbs through a tome. You bark out a laugh before you realise he’s not joking. “What, pray tell, do you find so funny?”

“I mean that’s… common knowledge isn’t it?” You tilt your head. “Obviously the best outcome for a hunt is to kill your target before it notices you. You can’t hunt something very well if it’s run off. That’s like saying ‘the best way to write a letter is with a quill and paper’, like… yes, thank you, I think everybody knows that.”

He scowls at you and lets out a disapproving snort. “Why did Sariel let a savage live on palace grounds, again?” A subtle glimmer in his eyes suggests he’s being playful, in his own way.

You lean back in your chair and throw your arms up. “Oh, so now I’m a savage. You’re fine with being seen as a hunter when it means you can use cool metaphors, but when the time comes to rip out a boar’s throat with your teeth and drink it’s blood you’re nowhere to be found!”

Chevalier stares at you silently. It’s unclear if he’s trying to determine your seriousness, or if he’s just completely unamused.

You weren’t joking though, you really did drink animal blood. It was a good way to offset the lack of fruits and vegetables in your diets. Roughly 90% of what Children of the Forest ate was meat.

“You…” he begins, but then he stops. He didn’t actually know how to respond to that, so he just decides not to. He turns back to his book.

You slump a little. “That’s it?” You were expecting him to get snarky at you so you could banter a little bit.

He notices your disappointment and smirks to himself. It’s kind of cute how you always want to pick a fight with him— wait, did he just think that?

Over time he comes to notice you more. Your curves, your muscles, the tattoos that sprawled across your body (a mark of being a Matriarch, you’d told him), and soon he became irritated with how little your leathers concealed.

It was common practice for Children of the Forest to run around half-naked or even fully naked, and at first he thought little of it but now it got on his nerves.

Were you intentionally trying to seduce him? Were you and your ilk always so shameless? Did you not know how other men would look at you? Did you not care?

Other men… The thought of them seeing as much of you as he did bothered him. He tried to quash these feelings, but it seemed the harder he fought against them the more they grew.

He lost a lot more in your spars. He’d get distracted at the way your breasts bounced, or the intense look you’d get in your eyes. You noticed something was off, but you paid it no mind. At least, you tried not to.

But it had been three weeks since you arrived, and Chevalier had gone from improving rapidly to making rookie mistakes.

You knock him on his ass — something you normally wouldn’t have been able to do — and stand above him with your sword lined up to his face. “This is getting ridiculous now,” you chide him. “What’s wrong with you? Do you have a death wish? You expect to be King when you can’t even watch your stance?”

He glares up at you. “Hold your tongue, [Name]. My patience only goes so far.”

“So does mine!” you retort. “At first you were a worthy fighter, but now it feels like I’m whipping a new-blood!”

Damn it, you’re right and he hates it. He still fights just as well, if not better, with other opponents but he continuously falters with you. He wasn’t ashamed when he lost to you the first time, but he certainly was now.

He tries to get up to leave, but you knock him down again. “That’s enough, wildling. I’ve had my fill of you for the day, let me leave.”

“Then leave.”

Chevalier eyes you curiously and tries to get up again. Again you knock him down. He snarls at you, rage bubbling in his stomach at the act of being repeatedly humiliated.

When you knock him down again, he grabs the practice sword in your hand and pulls you forward. It’s enough to throw you off your balance and he’s able to stand while you fumble. He gives you a final glare as he spins on his heel and starts to walk away.

He doesn’t get very far before you dash in front of him and block his way. “You can’t own up to your mistakes, so you try to avoid them?” you spit. “Strike me and I’ll let you go.”

“I’m not playing these games with you. I have more important things to do than play fight with a tree-hugger. Stand aside.” His aura is more commanding than it usually is. He isn’t playing with you, not this time at least.

You answer with only two words. “Make. Me.”

“If you think you can threaten me in my own home, you’re sorely mistaken. I am the rightful King of these lands, and savage or not you will respect that.”

You make no attempts to move, and he sees the only way to get through to you is force. He grabs the blade he’d discarded when you knocked him down earlier and readies himself.

Before you can blink, he’s on you. You only narrowly managed to block his attack and he winds back and strikes again. There’s passion in his hits now, something that was lacking these past few days, and you prepare yourself for a hard fight.

He moves faster than you’ve seen him before, but there’s still a sense that he’s struggling with something.

Like he’s running.

“You think you can just come into my palace and treat me how you want,” he grunts, landing blow after blow on your sword until the wood begins to splinter. “Who do you think you are?!”

When he pushes you back, you push him harder. The ferocity in his mannerisms continues to intensify, and you wonder if maybe he’ll win today. You’ll be damned if you make it easy for him.

“What do you plan to do about it?” you taunt, your breath becoming strained as you put more effort into your parries and attacks.

“You’re a fool, [Name], and I plan to put you in your place.”

The fight is the most draining one you’ve had thus far. You’re holding on, barely, and you notice the subtle signs of him struggling to keep up too.

Despite the sweat beading on your face, sticking strands of hair to your skin, you find enough energy to snicker at him. “Are you sure you’re not just horny for me?”

He pauses for a split second, and you knock the sword from his hands. He gains his composure and clenches his hands by his side, waiting for you to land the final hit.

But it never comes.

You toss your sword to the side and forcefully hold his chin between your forefinger and thumb. “Are you sure that you don’t want me to just takeyou?”

A scowl has once again carved into his beautiful features. “I want nothing of the sort. You insult me with these accusations, Forest Child.”

You let go and trail a finger down his jawline, following the contour of his neck and resting at his clavicle. He swallows thickly as a fire stirs in his belly, a primal desire the likes of which he’s never felt before.

“You city-dwellers are so prudish. Sex isn’t something to be ashamed of. You’re not as subtle as you think, prince Chevalier.” You smile coyly at him, you know you’re riling him up. “I see the way you stare at my tits. And my ass. I’m not offended, I’m just amused that someone as strong as you can’t come out and simply ask me to fuck you.”

A trickle of sweat drops down his temple, and despite his best wishes he can feel his excitement growing. “You’re truly trying to seduce me so openly? Your people have no shame. A woman shouldn’t approach so casually.”

Your gaze drops to his lips. “Your backwards social norms mean nothing to me. I have always approached, and I will continue to do so.” The finger resting on his collarbone trails a lazy path down to his lower stomach. “Besides, I can hear your heartbeat quickening. I wonder, if I was to look in your trousers, would you be soft?”

Chevalier knew that was a rhetorical question. You already had your answer, you just wanted him to admit it. He deigned to say nothing, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop you as you stepped in closer and undid his belt.

Before your fingers could make contact with his desperately yearning cock, he growled darkly. “If you do this, I won’t be responsible for what happens.”

“You’re welcome to try, you wouldn’t be the first,” you chuckle. “But no one’s managed to come out on top, if you get my meaning.”

Somehow, that didn’t surprise him. But his urges will let him resist no longer, and he watches you earnestly as you reach your hand into his pants and stroke the sensitive underside of his dick. He sucks in a breath but lets you continue.

You only stroke him a couple of times before you draw your hand away, and he almost groans in anguish. You hold your hand up to his mouth and say, “Spit.”

For a split second he’s confused, but he quickly gets the picture and leans his face down to your hand. He puckers his lips as a steady trickle of saliva drops down into your palm, and his deep blue eyes are locked on yours.

When he’s finished, he asks you, “Good enough?”

You grin at him. “We’ll see.”

Your hand goes back to his needy cock, and already he can feel the difference. The wet, slightly sticky feeling of his saliva coats him from tip to base, and his eyes almost flutter closed. His lips part slightly as he breathes out steady pants, his gaze locked on you through his long, pale eyelashes.

He’s quite big, you note, and his dick has a slight curve to it. You’re sure no one’s complained with him in the boudoir, but it takes far more than a big dick to impress you.

You twist your hand around him as you stroke, making sure that you touch every inch of him. You’re quite skilled, and Chevalier wonders momentarily if there’s anything you can’t do well.

The answer to that is read, of course. But you’ve never shared that with him.

The heat between you builds as you bring him closer to the edge, and unable to hold back anymore he leans towards you and captures your lips.

You smile into the kiss, and your satisfied snicker is swallowed by him. Chevalier rests his hands on your waist, running them over your hips and your ass as your tongues explore each other’s mouths.

His hips gyrate against your hand, and precum flows from the tip of his prick as you continue to work your magic on him. You part from the kiss and attack his neck with your teeth — thankfully, not to rip it out, but instead to leave a white hot trail of kisses and hickeys.

He groans as he tilts his head forward, feeling his release quickly approaching. “Fuck… just like that… you’ll make me cum, [Name].”

You laugh against his ear. “A prince getting jacked off by a wildling in broad daylight, how embarrassing.”

He grips your shoulders as he pumps himself into your hand. “You are… nngh.. an insufferable woman.”

You smile to yourself and he throws his head back as he shoots ropes of hot cum onto your hand and torso, giving a final grunt as he does so. His mind goes blank at the pleasure, and he slowly winds down as small spurts of cum drop to the ground beneath you.

You part — all too soon for his liking — and you have an annoyingly pleased look about yourself. Chevalier tidies himself up and goes back to his default state of looking mildly irritated. You’re the one who has his cum on you, so why does it feel like you just got the better of him?

“So,” you break the silence, “good talk. I should go get cleaned up, I’ll let you return to your princely duties.”

As you walk past him, you spare a hungry glance at his thick, firm ass and grab a handful. He jolts and twists back to face you, but by then you’re a couple steps out of his reach. “I’ll look forward to exploring the rest of you next time, Chevalier,” you say with a lecherous grin. That ass really seemed magical.

“Don’t get your hopes up, you perverted Forest Child,” he calls back. But you both know that’s a bluff, he’s just trying to maintain a semblance of his pride.

You wave a lazy hand in farewell as you saunter off, and he’s left staring dumbly in your direction.

This won’t work out. He’s sure of it. You’re from two different worlds, ones that can never merge no matter how many kingdoms he unites. Someday you’ll have all you need to fulfil your duty as Matriarch. Someday you’ll leave Rhodolite for the southern forests and it will be the last time he ever sees you, but for now…

At least for now, he knows he’ll see you in the morning.

this has been bouncing around in my head all night i just gotta write it down

how the ikepri boys react when u catch them from falling;

Yves Kloss;

• you’re casual acquaintances. technically he’s your employer as you’re one of the maids in the palace but he never really treats you that way (which you appreciate)
• you’re extremely competent in your work. you always manage to have the right things at the right time, and your sense of duty is almost frightening. somehow, somewhere, you always know what is need and when precisely that is.
• one afternoon Yves is climbing up the steps to the palace. his mind is elsewhere, and he accidentally misses one of them, throwing him off-balance and plummeting backwards
• he curses under his breath at his own thoughtlessness. a prince falling down his own stairs?! he closes his eyes in anticipation for the impact but in its place he feels softness, as a pair of capable arms envelop him and hold him steady
• “Master Yves, are you alright?” comes your ever-pleasant voice. once again you have mysteriously appeared to save the day, thank the gods for you!
• but when he looks up at you it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time. your beauty stuns him silent, the setting sun is positioned perfectly behind your head giving you the appearance of a halo. you look worriedly at him, and his gaze is drawn to your intense eyes then down to your beautiful lips
• he doesn’t hear you when you try to talk to him again, instead all he can hear is violins and flutes in his mind playing a romantic ballad. has he perhaps gone mad due to his near-death experience? or did he actually die and get transported to heaven?
• eventually he shakes himself out of his reverie. he becomes painfully aware of his rapid heart rate and his blushing cheeks
• “I-I’m fine, thank you Miss [Name]!” he almost yells as he gets to his feet. “I meant to do that anyway!”
• “You meant to fall?” you lightly tease, a playful smile tugging at your lips. his heart pounds painfully. “Sorry, Master Yves. Next time I shall endeavour to let you tumble down the steps.”
• “Good!” he huffs as he turns his back to you, speed walking up the rest of the stairs. “That is all! Back to your duties, if you please!”
• he doesn’t see the nod you give him, he’s far too busy trying to run away from the situation. he meant to do that? how embarrassing! why did he say that?! and why was he getting so worked up about you holding him like that? it was like he was a princess in a romance novel!
• he’s not a princess, damn it! he’s a prince! and a powerful one, too!
• as much as he tries to rationalise his feelings away, poor Yves finds himself plagued with repetitive dreams of being a damsel in distress and you his valiant knight that comes to the rescue every time. perhaps it is more accurate to the truth than he cares to admit.

Nokto Klein;

• you’re the bodyguard/valet of a powerful merchant lord. while you were born in the slums as a peasant, through your diligence and strength you worked your way up in the world.
• Nokto often sees you at parties, your boss is a man who always wants to know everything and suffers from severe FOMO, so he attends as many soirées and events as he possibly can. you, being his most trusted companion, always accompany him.
• seeing an armed and armoured woman at a party is deeply amusing to him, so he sometimes found himself drifting over to you to try and tease you.
• it never works. you’re a master of keeping a stoic face, and you can hold your liquor better than most drunkards, so you pose a big challenge for him.
• that’s fine though, he’s not a quitter when it comes to bedding beautiful women— he always gets what he wants. honestly, if he could just get you to smile, or look something other than vaguely pissed, he’d count that as a success.
• he challenged you to a drinking contest, since your pride is well-known throughout Rhodolite, and much to his delight you agreed.
• by the time he realised he stood no chance against you, he was too drunk to care.
• “[Name], my dear, it seems we’ll need to continue this elsewhere. Somewhere more… private, perhaps?” Nokto was still surprisingly smooth despite having drunk enough to down an ox. he lingers far too closely to you, just an inch away from kissing your ear.
• it would fluster a lesser person. but you’re unfazed. you eye him neutrally. “Yes. You seem in dire need of a nap, Prince Nokto.”
• he casually waves you off as he begins to walk away. “Nonsense. You’ll find it takes more than a few drinks to—“
• he doesn’t get to finish his sentence as his legs surreptitiously decide to give out and he trips. he hears you call out to him before you catch him in your arms.
• instinctively he rests his hands on your biceps. they’re quite… hard, aren’t they? his eyes widen in shock as he realises what’s just happened, and perhaps it’s the drink influencing him but he could’ve sworn his heart just skipped a beat.
• he composes himself quickly and his shocked expression melts into a lecherous smirk. “Oh my, how gallant. You’ll make me blush if you keep holding me like this, [Name].”
• the last thing he remembers is a small smile on your face. then, he wakes up in his room with a pounding headache and an uncharacteristically empty bed.
• as the memories slowly return to him about what happened that night (you had helped him into a carriage and the servants took him to bed) he finds himself extremely disappointed that he failed to bag you yet again.
• “Ah well,” he says to no one in particular, “next time.”
• at least he got you to smile.

Clavis Lelouch;

• you’re a bartender and a semi-close associate of Jin’s. while you’ve never expressed interest in becoming one of his partners, you’ve been his wingwoman on more than one occasion.
• Clavis likes to stir trouble more than he likes to sleep around, but he always enjoys a good glass of scotch and a conversation with his dear half-brother Jin. your establishment is one of his regular hunting grounds (or did he say watering grounds? he can’t remember) so tonight he invited Clavis along for the ride
• Jin took his regular spot at the bar and Clavis took the seat next to him. when you asked Jin about the new face, he introduced you two, and to say Clavis was intrigued by your good looks would be an understatement
• for a time the three of you were locked into conversation, though you’d occasionally dip out to serve another customer, and Clavis was starting to see why his brother liked this place so much… although maybe for different reasons
• he was so absorbed in shooting the shit with you that he didn’t notice when Jin (so rudely!) abandoned him for a small group of women.
• it didn’t bother him too much though, he was having plenty of fun getting to know a kindred spirit like you
• you talked, and talked, and talkedand Clavis understood why you were a bartender. a big part of the job is chatting to the customers, and you did a damn good job of keeping a conversation going
• when he finished his fourth glass of scotch and his head was starting to swim, he figured he’d had enough for the night
• “Well, [Name], thank you for keeping me company after my dastardly brother deserted me, but I should be going back now,” he said with a pleasant grin on his face.
• “Back to that big fancy palace of yours, huh? Must be nice… all I’ve got waiting for me is an overpriced shoe-box and shitty neighbours.”
• Clavis chuckles. “Is this your way of trying to get me to invite you over, bartender?”
• he half-expects you to get flustered, instead you smirk. “You’re cute, I’ll give you that. But I don’t think you can handle me. Maybe ask me again in a few more years, sweet thing.”
• sweet thing. the way the nickname so effortlessly comes from your mouth is enough to make him do a double-take. should he be offended by it? is it normal that instead he feels flattered… maybe even a little bit giddy?
• it takes him a second longer than usual to formulate a reply, but before he can he’s wrenched from his thoughts by a drunken patron shouldering past him.
• he expects to unceremoniously collide with the floor but instead he finds himself cradled in your arms. your breasts are in his face but you’re too busy scolding the other man to notice.
• all Clavis can do is focus on your chest. your soft… exquisite chest… are all tits as sexy as yours? he can see why Jin is so obsessed with women if so.
• you pull back and he’s met with the almost-as-attractive image of your face as you check over him.
• “You okay? He didn’t wrinkle your clothes did he, sweet thing?”
• that nickname again. damn it, first you shove your tits in his face and now you’re calling him that. there’s only so much a man can take!
• he shoves the feelings down and dons his usual facade. “Oh, I’ll need a maid to iron them out but I’ll live. Barely.”
• you laugh and help him to his feet. you say your goodbyes and he returns to the palace, but when he finds Jin the next day he asks to accompany him the next time he decides to visit your bar

Leon Dompteur;

• you are an established noblewoman who took over your father’s house and increased its wealth and standing tenfold. you’re known as a charming, philanthropic individual and are quite well-loved among nobles and commoners alike.
• you’re holding a charity event and invited Leon to attend, which of course he accepted. it wasn’t really the scene his brothers tended to frequent, so he went it alone.
• he even arrived early to help you set up! what a doll!
• you’d put together confectionary stalls, games, and musical performances where a chunk of the profits would go towards building a new orphanage.
• Leon was surrounded by a small gaggle of kids that seemed to worship the ground he walked on, and he very patiently answered each and every one of their endless questions.
• “Mister Leon, Mister Leon!” a girl no more than the age of nine calls out. “My momma said that you and lady [Name] make a cute couple! Are you her wife?”
• Leon jolts back and laughs nervously. people seem to like the idea of you and him becoming a couple, since you’re both gorgeous, charismatic, and selfless, but it’s not often that he’s confronted with it so directly.
• “No, no, Lady [Name] and I are just friends,” he tells her, much to the children’s disappointment. “What’s more, I’m a man, so if I was married I would be the husband.”
• “Huh? Why can’t men be a wife?” a boy complains. “That’s not fair!”
• you’ve been drifting over to the group since you heard the sound of your name, and much to your amusement Leon is trying (and failing) to explain to kids how gender roles work.
• as you get close another boy tugs at your clothes to grab your attention. “Miss [Name], why can’t boys be wifes? My daddy said wifes are good and nice and I want to be good and nice! Why is Leon not your wife Miss [Name]?”
• “Those are good questions, kiddo!” you say, and to Leon’s dismay you look up at him with a grin. “Why can’t boys be wives, Leon? Are you saying you wouldn’t like to be my wife?”
• the children all agree with you and continue to pester Leon, and he finds it hard to fight the rising blush on his face. desperate for a way out, he spots an older woman struggling to carry a crate of goods and excuses himself.
• “Ma’am, would you like some help with that?” he asks, eager to be anywhere but here.
• she smiles at him gratefully. “Oh yes please Your Majesty, that would be a great help!”
• he picks up the crate with ease, but the sound of pestering little kids picks up behind him and an unexpected weight latches onto his leg.
• he tips, and he tries to angle his body so it won’t land on the (assumed) child but it’s of ill use. all he can do is shout “Watch out!” as he prepares to crash, instinctively squeezing his eyes shut.
• but there is no crash. he doesn’t collide with the cobblestone, and there is no deafening sound of wood clattering on the ground. he opens his eyes to see you leaning over him.
• one of your arms is wrapped around his shoulders, the other is holding the crate above both your heads. if he wasn’t flustered before he sure is now.
• “Prince Leon, are you hurt?” you ask. “I’m so sorry, that was my fault. I got the kids all stirred up then they ran off before I could catch them!”
• his amber eyes are locked on yours. he can’t tear them away, even for a second. it’s like no one else exists except you and him. “It’s… okay…” he says finally. “I’m fine. Thank you, Lady [Name]. I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching what I was doing.”
• you shake your head and let the crate down before hauling him up. “Not at all. Kids can be a handful.”
• he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah.”
• he grabs the crate once again and this time, carefully watches his steps as he carries it off. as the children watch him walk away, one of them mumbles to another, “He’s definitely her wife.”

Chevalier Michel;

• you’re a soldier in Chevalier’s command, and in fact you are one of the best. that you’re a woman never mattered in his eyes, you were worth a dozen regular soldiers and he has always treated you as an equal.
• he likes to run training camps to simulate real war conditions even during times of peace. you never know when someone (*cough* Obsidian) might strike, so it’s good to always be prepared
• he emerges from his tent to watch over the troops sparring with each other. if he finds a weakness in their stance, he’ll bark at them to correct it. his demeanour is icy and strict, but he always knows what needs to be done so his judgement is rarely questioned.
• you have finished your training for the day (immaculate as always. he never seems to find a fault with you nowadays, much to the chagrin of your fellow soldiers) and you’re busying yourself by running errands
• you’re the only woman in Chevalier’s troops, and while women soldiers definitely exist, not many of them (or anyone, really) can handle being under the draconian command of a genius
• at first when the men harassed you, Chevalier would make a show of telling them the dangers of underestimating someone. he didn’t need to do that for long though, because they soon learned that lesson directly from you.
• he makes eye contact with the back of your head as he sees you tending to the horses, and remembers a battle tactic he wanted to go through with you. he makes a beeline for you, but halfway there he hears a yell and a rope snapping. you instantly turn towards the direction of the noise
• one of the soldiers had startled a horse bad enough that it broke free and tried to run through the camp— it had happened fast enough that Chevalier had little time to react
• he managed to get out of trampling range, but the wind is knocked out of him and he fumbles for balance
• “Prince Chevalier!” he hears, though he’s not sure from who. probably multiple troops who are shitting their britches at the prospect of angering him.
• he tries to break his fall, but instead he’s caught. the shocked gasps of his men and the struggles of the horse getting reined in hit his ears, but all he can focus on is the woman whose arms he lies in.
• one of your hands is firmly gripping the dip in his waist and the other cups his head. “That was a close one!” you exclaim. “The ground is pretty much frozen this time of year, if you hit that you could’ve gotten a concussion!”
• he blinks up at you. why does this feel so… weirdly comfortable? he chooses not to linger on it. “You’re right. I appreciate your quick timing, [Name].”
• he gets up and dusts himself off, trying to ignore the unpleasant absence of your warmth. he turns around and glares at the camp. “Now… who was the one stupid enough to scare the horse?”
• the silence is deafening.

✦marius von hagen|[ 4:30 PM ]

cw; slightly suggestive

the lack of the pitter patter of your footsteps around the apartment only makes marius’s longing for you stronger.

oh, if only you could appear out of nowhere and grace him with your oh-so-wonderful voice, he’d gladly do any-

“hey, marius?”

oh, speak of the devil. no, wait, angel, since that voice sounds like one-

“yes?” he drawls out like a child, tilting his head backwards to look at you with an equally childish smile on his face.

“is that thing about saying thank you to the fae and having a debt for the rest of your life real?”

“yes, it is,” he says, gears beginning to click in his head as to where this conversation is headed to.

“then, the thing about fae taking a person’s first-born child as payment for the debt is true, too?”

he only smirks at you, and turns around in his swivel chair to pull you down into his lap, and leans in close, close enough to touch his nose to yours.

“well, why don’t we find out about that? seeing as to how you were thanking me somuch about that little gift i bought you the week earlier.”

before you can protest against him, he swiftly pulls you down into a kiss, leaving you unable to do anything but kiss back and respond to him.

was he making excuses to spend time with you? yes, he was. do you need to know about the second thing being untrue in certain case? yes, you do. was he going to let you know, now? he wasn’t. would he let you know later? of course, he would.but for now, ignorance is bliss, in ways more than one.

✦notes; yikes what was i thinking when i made this- *bonks past self* anyway here you go, it’s too early in the day for this, though-

- rine

© 2021 rine @artemstellation. do not plagarize or repost without due permission.

✦marius von hagen|[ 1:15 AM ]

the sky seems to glitter ― the stars twinkle gently, as a breeze blows away all his unease. he closes his eyes, soaking in the view and peace, when a hand on his shoulder brings him out of the little trance he’s put himself into.

“marius?” he hears you call out, wrapped in a large blanket to protect yourself from the cold and voice still groggy from sleep.

“it’s nothing,” he tells you, as he pulls you into a hug. “just wasn’t able to sleep, but I think i’ll be able to, now that you’re here.”

he gives you a cheeky smile, only for it to turn softer when he notices that you’ve fallen asleep in his arms, leaning against him. placing a chaste kiss on the top of your head, he carefully carries you in his arms and brings you inside.

“let’s get you to bed, darling.”

he snuggles close to you, and sighs as he breathes in the scent of your detergent and shampoo, as he feels sleep take over him slowly.

well, he wasn’t lying about being able to sleep with you.

✦notes; why do i keep writing night timestamps for marius - anyway, enjoy!

- rine

© 2021 rine @artemstellation. do not plagarize or repost without due permission.

✦artem wing|[ 9:25 AM ]

you look breathtaking, artem thinks as he watches as you twirl about in the study, fixing his books and arranging them in an order that makes it easier for him to find them.

his cats methodically watch your movements, and step in when there’s a book about to fall from the shelf or from the large pile you’ve gathered.

calixta rubs against your legs and meows at you, directing your attention to their owner, who stands watching all of you as he leans on the doorway, asher cradled like a child in his arms. louis jumps onto his shoulder, and rests there, as he watches his masters interact.

“breakfast is ready,” artem says, as he leans in to kiss you, cat on shoulder and all. louis and asher meow at you for pats, as calixta asks you to pick her up, and you gladly indulge in the felines’ wishes.

the two (five?) of you make haste to eat, all the while the felines have just a single thought running through their tiny, cute heads.

it’s the happiest they’ve seen their master during all these centuries, and it’s all because of you.

✦notes; artem and cats = <3 all i want is these cats, although nora is quite adorable anyway.

- rine

© 2021 rine @artemstellation. do not plagarize or repost without due permission.

✦vyn richter|[ 5:20 PM ]

vyn’s working on some of his journals, documenting his latest plant finds in the forest from his daily walks, while you help him with the dry pressing of the various botanicals he brings back.

rue really likes the dry pressed flowers, for some reason, and always steals away one or two to hide wherever it is that he hides them. speaking of the snake, he slowly slithers on to vyn’s desk, curling up near you for warmth.

vyn lets out a chuckle as he reaches out to pet the serpent, who gladly lowers his head for some, and eagerly turns towards you in hopes of some more. rue snuggles happily into your hand, tongue flickering in and out, as you softly scratch at his scales, and vyn feels his chest warm at the sight of the two of you.

maybe he should invite you to their walks from now on.

✦notes; rue has all my heart for he reminds me so much of faust. she’s absolutely adorable.

- rine

© 2021 rine @artemstellation. do not plagarize or repost without due permission.

✦luke pearce|[ 7:58 AM ]

it’s too early in the morning for this, luke thinks to himself. it’s far too early in the morning for you tobe away from him, he thinks. and very much too early for you to be running around the house, playing with peanut.

he really adores the fact that you get along so well with peanut ― he really does. but sometimes, he can’t help but be jealous of his own familiar, when you give it so much of attention. he wants some of it, too. finally deciding that enough is enough, he flings off the covers, and decides to seek you out.

you’re both in the little backyard garden, running around as you try to catch peanut who flies away each time from you. he whistles, and peanut immediately comes over to him, happily chirping. you make your way over too, and he raises an arm to make space for you, as you snuggle into his side.

an idea pops into his head, and he immediately places his hands underneath your knees and on your back, sweeping you off your feet and carries you back inside, as peanut chips and flies around him. you protest, but he doesn’t budge, only laughing as he places a kiss on the top of your head.

he knows that he can change your mind about not sleeping in, anyway.

✦notes; peanut my beloved, i love you sm. anyway here’s luke!

- rine

© 2021 rine @artemstellation. do not plagarize or repost without due permission.

✦marius von hagen| [ 10:45 PM ]

it’s late ― late enough that the stars are the only things visible in the sky, the sun long having gone to rest. the surroundings are silent, like the whole world has fallen asleep. yet, the two of you are still very much awake.

you’re animatedly telling him about your neighbour’s cat and dog, and how they managed to send the entire neighborhood into a tizzy from a little excursion.

he should be listening to what you’re saying, but really, all he can focus on is you, with the fairy lights hung on the wall behind making you look even more so like one ― his very own fairy, although he’s one himself.

he nods along with everything you say, up until you catch on to his distraction, and softly shove him on the shoulder for it. he chuckles as he apologizes, but soon enough, pulls you into a kiss, for what he says is a more sincere apology. all he knows in the moment, is that he’s glad he agreed with his father.

a decision to stay in the human world has brought him the most joy he’s ever had ― and he’ll make sure to protect it with his entire being.

✦notes; soft marius is just ― ✨ if you’re wondering where fleur and nova are, they’re sleeping in the bed after exhausting themselves playing with you.

- rine

© 2021 rine @artemstellation. do not plagarize or repost without due permission.

tot men + spooky dates.

artem wing…

• …. takes you to a haunted fair! there’s all sorts of supposedly ‘haunted’ goods for sale ― and while he’s not interested in getting either you or him haunted by a spirit, malicious or not, he adores your childlike glee at the items on display and sale.
• if he knows a myth or a legend about a display you’ve seen, he’ll tell you all about it ― all the while he softly holds your hand, even if you aren’t scared by it. if you’d like to, he’ll take you out to one every halloween.
• takes you to all the activities there and makes you a cute little air clay pumpkin carving that you can use as a charm.

“for you,” he says as he places a little clay charm in your hands. it so suspiciously looks a lot like you ― but it warms your heart nonetheless.

• he knows his way around, and takes you to places where you can eat lots of delicious food. gets very flustered if you kiss him, but eventually relaxes and gives in.
• sneaky kisses while hidden under his cape (he bought it because he thought it’d look cute on you, but it ended up being too big, and had to wear it himself), and he brings you along to the woods when you’re done exploring the fair, to a clearing to watch the night sky. wraps the large and warm cloak around both of you as he pulls you into a hug, placing feather light kisses all along your hands (maybe nipping at them here and there, too).

“what was that?” he teases, when you squeak at his sudden nipping. he looks at you for a moment, and then buries his head in your neck right after. “you’re too cute, you know that? it’s not good for my heart to skip so many beats.”

the both of you sit there flustered and comforted in each other’s presence, until you break the silence with the appearance of a shooting star. quickly making your wishes, you ask him what he wished for, if he did make one.

all he does is smile the softest you’ve ever seen, and knocks his forehead with yours, before finally answering your question.

“for me to always be able to stand alongside you, no matter what happens, and to be allowed to love you till the end of my time.”

marius von hagen…

• …. much to contrary belief, would like to spend his halloween at home. it’s one of the rare times that he can relax with you, without having to bother about work and his actions constantly being judged.
• though it doesn’t mean that he’s going to skimp out on the festivities ― he makes a little fair of your own at the von hagen estate, where everyone from his family to the staff are in celebration.

“doesn’t it look good?” he says, chest very much puffed out in pride, as he looks around. the lights hung around shine on his face, giving him a glow ― one that doesn’t allow you to look away.

• he does steal you away a little while later, throwing a “there’s no need to show off your good looks, i’m enough proof of it!” over his shoulder as he grows pouty by the attention you’ve been giving his family (he knows you were just being polite, but it’s your time to spend together, and he’s not going to let anyone intrude on it).
• spends the rest of the night together with you as he takes you to all the little things he’s set up (with careful planning) and makes the most obnoxious pumpkin carvings. steals a kiss here and there while you’re distracted and laughs in smug glee at your flustered expressions. pulls you for a dance, and twirls you around until you’re laughing so much that it’s hard to breathe, and finishes it with a lingering kiss to end the night.

“come on, it was just onekiss!” he whines at you, clinging onto your arm. he only pouts harder when you give him a deadpan, and continues to grumble under his breath, throwing his biggest and saddest puppy eyes that he’s able to muster your way.

“maybe give me another one, and i promise won’t bother you for the rest of the time!” he says,and cheers loud enough for the whole mansion to hear when you finally agreeto his demands, and give him a kiss that he nearly doesn’t allow you to escape from.

he, of course, as usual doesn’t keep that promise.

luke pearce…

• …. takes you to a haunted city tour! he’s always adored them (while being scared, not that he’d admit), finding a mystery for him to solve around every corner, in every nook and cranny. he does make sure that you’re both appropriately 'armed’ ― by that he means two very large squirt guns of holy water.

“just so we don’t get haunted”, he says, smiling at you, like it was necessary to do so and to reassure you (even though it seemed like it was more for him than for you).

• says he doesn’t believe much in ghosts ― though the squirt guns tell you otherwise. holds your hand tightly during every single thing, squeezing it when something remotely as makes a squeak.
• he keeps a tight hold on you throughout the duration of the tour, watching out for both you and him. although he wouldn’t admit it, your presence helped relax him a lot, allowing him to loosen up and join in with joking around with the tour guide.
• when it’s all over, he heaves a big sigh in relief. he managed not to get scared in front of you, and actually, even enjoyed the trip, listening to all the stories and the lore. though when peanut appears out of nowhere from a bush, he gets so startled that he jumps into your arms (well, there goes his plan to keep a brave front).

“hey, let’s get some food from that new place that opened down the stree ― OH MY GOD!” he shrieks mid-sentence, cutting himself off and jumps into your arms as you surprisingly manage to hold his weight.

something rustles in the nearby bushes, slowly coming through… and it turns out to be peanut. he stares at it, before sighing and hiding his face in embarrassment. all you can do is shake your head at him (while stifling your laughter) and squeeze his hand a little more to reassure him.

he does end up getting a lot more cuddles that night, though.

vyn richter…

• …. being his very mysterious (not really) and secretly extravagant self, takes you out to an actual castle which was said to be haunted by rather friendly spirits, in the country where he asked you to travel with him for vacation.

“it doesn’t look quite ominous as a haunted castle would,” you say, raising an eyebrow at the looming and eerily beautiful structure.

“well, it is said to be haunted by rather friendly apparitions, so i suppose that it is the reason why it looks so,” he replies, not once looking away from it.

• the two of you run amok in the castle, with him somehow having the entire place to yourselves (you think that he owns this place, for some reason, and your intuition tells you that you’re right). he tells you a little something about all the people in the large oil portraits hung along the long hallways as you pass by them.
• at some point, the two of you get separated from each other ― and you slowly realise that it’s getting colder and colder, shivering in both cold and fright, when you hear footsteps and the door swings open. you sigh in relief when you see that it’s just vyn, and allow him to help you up and dust your clothes even though he says nothing to you, and his hands being cooler than usual.
• he leads you out to the exit, where you see a large wisteria tree, and gestures at you to wait there. he comes by just a moment later, waving at you, and pulls you into a hug, hands warm all of a sudden, and you sigh at the comfort. however, when you apologize to him about being separated, his reply is what leaves you veryunsettled.

you pull away from him, feeling guilt gnaw at you for probably worrying him so much, and apologize.

“vyn, i’m so sorry that i got separated from you ― i should’ve been paying attention to what we were doing. i’m really sorry for making you worry so much.”

vyn looks at you with a face full of confusion, as he responds.“but you were with me the entire time ― although your hands very quite cold compared to what they are now, and you told me to come here for you, too.”

the uncertainty swirling in his amber eyes turns to fear soon, and sure enough, when the two of you look back at the castle, there’s two translucent figures waving back at you.

you’ve never bolted out of a place so fast in your entire lifetime.

✦ notes; aaaaah i’m so sorry i haven’t posted in so long ― my allergies have been giving me such a hard time lately, and all i’ve been doing is sleep, sleep and well, sleep. you know i had to add something actually haunted to this piece ― hope all of you like this <33

- rine

© 2021 rine @artemstellation. do not plagarize or repost without due permission.

tot men + familiars.

artem wing…

• …. has three cats, one black, one grey, and one smoke, as familiars. he adores the three of them to bits, and often takes them out on flights during the night.
• the black cat is a male, and he’s very calm, and likes to cuddle a lot with his siblings and artem. he names him asher, for he’s been the happiest since the three felines’ arrival. he’s also the oldest out of the three cats. he gets a bit chaotic when his favourite plush is in front, though.
• the smoke cat is a female, and she’s aptly named calixta, as her coat is a sight to behold. she’s very mischievous, often running around to bother her brothers, and often accompanies artem on walks because she likes spending time with him.
• the grey cat is also a male, and he’s named louis, because he always brings artem little leaves and flowers as his ‘hunts’. he turns them into dried flower bookmarks and deeply cherishes all of them. he’s somewhere in between asher and calixta, being calm at times but chaotic during others.
• a bonus; whenever the four of them nap together on artem’s couch, asher will always lay on his shoulders. louis is by his feet, and calixta has a permanent spot in his lap. the three of them softly purr a lot as they slowly fall asleep, and often sleep like they’re protecting him.

marius von hagen…

• …. has an australian shepherd and a bordercollie for familiars. they were both a gift from his older brother, on one of his birthdays, and have remained loyal to him ever since.
• the oldest out of the two is the border collie, named fleur, and she’s a really sweet girl ― one who won’t hesitate to walk up to you confidently and ask you politely for pets and head pats. she also likes running around and enjoys playing fetch with a ball that marius had specially crafted for her.
• the aussie shepherd is named nova, because she brings a new joy to his life everyday, and being a bit on the shyer side, she takes a little time to warm up. she adores going on walks and cuddling with her sister and master, and has this cute little blanket marius had knit for her that’s she’s really attached to.
• a bonus; the first time they met marius, they were so excited that they ran up to him and just tackled him down to the floor. he ended up spraining his wrist, but he says that it was worth it.

luke pearce…

• …. very obviously has his pet myna, peanut, as his familiar. it is very close to him, and comes along almost everywhere with him with ease and little to no difficulties.
• he gives it a lot of treats, and as peanut has been with him since a long time, he can understand it with just a tweet or a chirp that it makes, being able to differentiate between all the different vocalizations that peanut makes.
• it often rests on his shoulder or on the top of his head while he works, and and softly chirps at him whenever it wants his attention, be it because of food or to play. as mynas are highly intelligent birds and can talk and sing too, peanut sometimes talks with luke using words it has learnt from its surroundings.
• a bonus; luke once nearly had a heart attack because peanut cursed and wouldn’t stop at all. it look a lot of training (actually, bribing) to get it to stop screeching some very colorful words that it had added to its vocabulary.

vyn richter…

• …. has an albino rosy boa, who he found severely injured during one of his routine walks in the forest, and nursed him back to full health. he’s stuck by vyn’s side ever since.
• he’s named rue, because he often leads vyn to useful medical herbs and pretty flowering plants during their walks in the forest. he likes to sleep by the shade of the flowers and the leaves while vyn studies or collects them, and slithers along with him when he’s ready to move forward.
• as rue is cold-blooded, he really likes to nap with vyn, and often gently slithers around his neck and rests there. he plays with vyn’s tails by swaying along with and following their movements, and sometimes curls up in vyn’s lap like a house cat to sleep while he reads. if needed, he brings vyn some of his lighter books from his bookshelf, too.
• a bonus; rue often lounges on vyn’s furniture, and many a times, used to blend in with it. vyn once nearly tripped over him because he was laying on the white and pink carpet, and has since replaced all the furniture in his house to prevent any possible injuries to both him and rue.

a nxx occurrence; all the familiars are good friends with each other, and one can often find rue and the cats snuggled together, while peanut plays with the dogs, or vice versa. sometimes when both the cats and the dogs are resting, rue and peanut play together.

all seven of them communicate with each other quite well, and brag about their owners to each other every time they meet. they quite adore each other even if they don’t speak much about it.

✦ notes; here’s the second part to build up the lore for the spooktober! rue really does give out faust vibes to me and i live for it. now to make and post the rest~ oh, and if you’re wondering here’s what the names mean ―

cats;

asher - happy, blessed, hebrew

calixta - most beautiful, greek

louis - famous warrior, french

dogs;

fleur - flower, french

nova - new, latin

bird;

peanut - you already know, why are you here?

snake;

rue - medicinal herb, english

- rine

© 2021 rine @artemstellation. do not plagarize or repost without due permission.

tot men + playing with their hair.

artem wing…

• …. melts like butter when he feels your hands carding through his hair, feeling all his stress and anxiety float away with each twirl of his raven locks and the movement of your gentle fingers.
• the first time you absentmindedly ran your fingers through his hair, he was so surprised to know how relaxing he found it to be. now he actively seeks you out to play with his hair when he’s stressed, melting in your arms as soon as he feels your fingers running softly through his tresses. gives you a lot of kisses and cuddles (even though he usually does) to thank you.
• he fidgets with your hand when he wants you to play with his hair, and gives you eskimo kisses until you laugh and agree to his demands (he gives you a smug but goofy grin in response). you can often find a small smile on his face whenever you play with his hair (smiling artem gives me enough serotonin for a week), and he hums a few melodies for you from time to time, relaxing with your company and affection.

marius von hagen…

• …. sends a smug little smirk your way when he feels you play with his hair. makes a teasing comment about how irresistible you find him (a good ‘ol smack should shut him up), but you notice him subtly leaning into your hands for more.
• the first time you do it is because he reminds you of a cat (one that is absolutely chaotic), and because you kept wondering about what he’d do if you reached out and ran your fingers through his hair. he immediately froze for a moment before turning around to make a cheeky remark, but then leaned in like a cat and placed his head in your lap, silently asking you to continue.
• now he just randomly lays in your lap (very much like a cat who wants attention) and places your hand upon his head, nudging at it to get you to play with his hair. often peeks at you with one eye open and smiles softly when you meet his lilac gaze, leaning in a little more in your direction. peppers kisses all over your hands and pulls you down gently for a long kiss as a thank you.

luke pearce…

• …. gives you a goofy, lopsided grin, before he pulls you onto his lap and leans into your touch, giving you more access to continue playing and twirling with his hair.
• you do it out of habit, as you gave him a lot of head pats when you were younger, which evolved (is it a pokémon? yeah, it is /j) into running your fingers through his soft caramel coloured hair, which has him sighing in content at the feelings that were mellow, warm and fuzzy at the same time that had begun bubbling in his chest.
• comes up to you, places his head on your shoulder and traps you in a back hug when he wants you to play with his hair (the k-drama vibes in here, i swear-). when you reach out and play with his locks, he nuzzles closer into your neck, and litters small kisses there in response. places a lingering kiss on your forehead before picking you up in his arms for an extended cuddle session with lots of kisses.

vyn richter…

• …. smiles lovingly at you, before taking ahold of your hand to place a kiss on your knuckles and the rest of your hand, making exaggerated noises along with to make you laugh.
• the reason why you do it is because his hair looks so soft and luscious that you have no choice but to try and run your hands through it (it feels just the same as it looks - don’t be shy, drop the name of that shampoo). he only raises an eyebrow in response to your actions, but shifts a bit so that you’re more comfortable and lowers his head a little more so you can reach easier.
• traps you in a hug and toys with your fingers when he wants you to play with his hair. places feather light kisses on your fingertips and doesn’t let you go until you agree to it, for which he gives you a little victorious smile. often reads out a book loud to you when you run your fingers through his hair, and sometimes abandons it in favour of launching a surprise tickle attack at you. makes it up by giving you lots of snuggles and kisses, though.

✦ notes; hehe have something i pulled out of nowhere because i haven’t given you guys any content in a long, long time. hhhnngh exams suck and math can go be its own therapist, i’m tired of it. now to disappear again.

- rine

© 2021 rine @artemstellation. do not plagarize or repost without due permission.