#ikemen leon

The hallways of the east wing echoed with a sound that could only be described as the confident, royal clip-clop of toddler feet in brand-new shoes.

And who was behind the strut of said tiny pink shoes?

"Behold," Clavis announced, dramatically flinging open the carved meeting room doors with one arm, the other securely wrapped around his two-year-old daughter. “The Princess of Style. The Small, Stompy Monarch of Pink—Lillian Lelouch!”

Jin, mid-sip of his morning coffee, visibly flinched.

Leon, softly looking at his little niece choked on a laugh. “Clavis… we have meetings. Reports. Guard formations. And—”

“None of which matter now,” Clavis declared, setting Lillian down carefully. She landed with a proud little bounce, wobbling in the slightest before righting herself. “Observe!”

He clapped once.

Lillian, on cue, lifted one tiny foot, then the other, revealing the adorable squeaky noise the shoes made—an innovation Clavis had insisted upon.

“Squeak-squeak!” she repeated happily.

Nokto, stepping into the room late (and regretting it), blinked. “What… what in the seven sins is that sound?”

“Her shoes. Custom-made. I had them crafted to squeak. It’s hilarious,” Clavis said proudly, crouching to straighten the frilly socks peeking over them. “And she loves them. Don’t you, little lily pad?”

“Squeaky!” Lillian repeated. She turned to Jin. “Squeak!”

Jin narrowed his eyes. “If you make her say ‘Uncle Jin,’ I might consider staying.”

Clavis’s grin widened dangerously. “Why stop there?” He scooped Lillian into his arms and raised her like a prize trophy. “Let’s teach her every uncle’s name. Let’s see who she says first.”

Leon’s face lit up like a match to fireworks. “OH, yes! Come on, Lily! Can you say Uncle Leon?”

“LEE-on!” she squeaked immediately.

“HA! Yes!” Leon threw both arms in the air. “I WIN!”

“No one’s competing,” Jin said dryly. "But.. can you say Uncle Jin, lily??" He grinned, turning to the small girl who only giggled in return.

Nokto sat down on his seat, grinning widely. “Lily, say ‘Uncle Nokto.’ Come on. Uncle Nokto, the most handsome one.”

“...Noctoo?”

“I’ll take it!” Nokto fist-pumped. “Close enough!”

Yves, arriving fashionably late and holding a tray of fresh fruit, looked alarmed. “Why are all of you shouting at a toddler?!”

“She’s learning names,” Clavis said, now lazily spinning Lillian in a circle while she squealed in delight.

“Yves,” Leon said, eyes glittering, “your turn. She got mine in one try.”

Yves adjusted his gloves. “Lillian, dear,” he said softly, crouching down and offering her a small blueberry, “say Uncle Yves.”

“Eeevss.”

Yves beamed like the sun. “Smart girl.”

Luke, curled up in a chair in the corner, rolled his eyes. “Don’t bring her over here.”

“She’s making the rounds,” Clavis declared, already on the move.

Luke sighed as his niece stumbled over, her shoes squeaking loudly, arms outstretched. “Uncle Wook?”

Luke stared.

Then exhaled slowly. “...Fine. That was cute.”

“Alright, alright,” came Jin’s gruff voice again. “The meeting?”

“Fine,” Clavis sighed with exaggerated sorrow. He crouched down next to Lillian. “Daddy has to go do boring grown-up things, lovebug. Be brave while I fight the great beast known as Bureaucracy.”

“Squeaky?”

“Yes. Take your shoes. They are your sword.”

She stomped her feet twice in reply. SQUEAK. SQUEAK.

Clavis chuckled and rose to his feet, brushing off his jacket before reaching down and scooping up Lillian one more time. She clung to him sleepily now, her moment of squeaky triumph giving way to that soft-eyed toddler daze, her thumb halfway to her mouth.

He pressed a kiss to her curls. “Alright, my queen of squeaks. Let’s get you to your nap, shall we?”

“Nooo nap,” she whined into his collarbone, clearly already halfway there.

“I know, darling,” he whispered conspiratorially, “it’s how I feel about morning briefings.”

As he passed the table, the brothers glanced up again. Leon gave him a grin. “Go on. I suppose this little meeting can wait. The little princess demands it so."

Yves sighed, nodding as Jin and Nokto laughed, Luke leaving the room.

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.

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.”

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.”

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.

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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For Leon content: @leonscape

For Gilbert and Leon: @ozalysss

It was a meal fit for a king. Or rather, your king, Leon.

Smiling at Leon, your heart swelled with pride that he enjoyed dinner so much. Although your stomach was filled with food, you found yourself not quite satisfied as you stared at Leon with lidded eyes. 

“Shall we, um, return to our room?”

Apparently, Leon felt the same way as you felt his smoldering gaze slowly undressing you. Heat rushed to your face as you suddenly felt the need to vacate the dining room.

“I’d like that.” Leon rose from his chair quickly and was by your side in a flash, extending his hand to you as you rose from your chair.

He held your hand as you walked the hallways. That was one of the things you loved so much about Leon, how he always held your hand. It didn’t matter where you were going or how short or long the walk was, his hand would always reach for yours, twining his fingers in yours. It didn’t matter if your hands were cold or clammy, his hand was there, clasped with yours, giving the occasional, comforting squeeze.

“Oh, no.” He sighed loudly as he stopped in the hallway. He turned to you, his hand still holding yours. “I left something in my office. Do you mind if we stop there first?”

*****

Leon’s stride grew longer, his pace faster as you both made your way to the Domestic Faction’s office. Eager to make this detour as quick and painless as possible, you squeezed his hand as you scurried to keep up with him. 

Once you arrived at his office, he opened the door, and with a flourish, held out his arm, inviting you in. He entered after you, careful to close the door shut behind him. Briskly, he walked to his desk in search of the papers he was looking for. 

Frowning, he stared at the mess that was his desk. Papers were piled upon papers piled upon more papers. Books were stacked in a teetering tower. Paperweights that were gifts from foreign nations, now scattered aimlessly amongst the piles of papers. 

His shoulders slumped, knowing this could take more than a few minutes to sort through the piles. It was times like this he wished he was perhaps a bit more fastidious like Chevalier. 

He turned to look at you, not knowing this would be his fatal mistake. There you were, standing by the tall window; the moonlight that poured through cast a warm glow on your face, highlighting the cupid’s bow of your lips. In this soft light, your beauty was ethereal. 

And despite your angelic innocence in the moonlight, Leon wanted you even more than ever. 

His amber eyes blazed with the passion that burned inside him, his desire for you growing the longer his gaze lingered on you. He called your name, the low, husky timbre of his voice grabbing your attention. 

“Could you come over here?” he asked, motioning towards his desk. You obliged, your body gliding through the air towards him, perhaps unaware of what he had in mind. 

As soon as you were close enough, he reached out, taking your small hand in his. Your hand felt warm; that was a good sign, a sign you were excited. Tugging on your hand, he pulled you close to him, practically hip to hip. 

A rumble stirred in his throat, much like a lion’s low roar, and something primal took over. His eyes flashed gold as his arm reached out, swiping at the contents on his desk. Your eyes widened as Leon knocked off enough items to clear off a section of his desk.

“Leon!”

His lips locked with yours in a fiery kiss, quickly quieting you as his tongue probed open your mouth. “I can’t wait any longer,” he whispered between kisses, his hand lifting the layers of your skirt while searching for your soft flesh. 

You gasped loudly as his fingers found you, his calloused skin rough against yours. His kisses grew urgent as he slipped a finger inside your entrance, pleased to find how  aroused you already were.

“Turn around.” He spun your around until you faced the desk. Instinctively, you placed your hands on the mahogany wood, your heart racing knowing full well what Leon had in mind. Shifting your hips, you pressed your backside towards him, inviting him.

With both hands, he lifted your skirt to your waist. He hooked a finger in your delicate undergarments, easily sliding them down your legs. Leon took a moment to admire you, your bare body exposed to him.

He unbuckled his belt and freed his erection; his hands massaged the supple skin of your backside before spreading your legs. With one hand, he guided his hard cock to your entrance, sliding the tip along your slick entrance, coating himself with your arousal. 

Gripping your hips with one hand, he began to push inside you, enjoying the sweet sounds you made as he stretched you. His fingers dug into your hips as he slowly thrust inside of you, purposefully slowing down his movements despite how eager he was to enter you quickly. He groaned as he bottomed out, his balls slapping against your skin.

He moved his hand up your back, along your spine, tanging his fingers in your hair and giving a gentle tug. Enjoying the sweet sound you made as he tugged your hair again as he slammed his cock deep inside you. His pace quickened, his thrusts getting rougher as he chased his climax. 

You both laid there, content, for some time, until he pulled out and adjusted your skirt. Helping you up, he fixed your hair, tucking a stray piece behind your ear, the gesture tender when compared to your earlier activities.

Feeling your body tremble beneath his, he knew you were close. He pumped his cock harder inside you, staying long enough to be squeezed by your walls. When you whimpered his name, begging him, pleading with him, to give you what you needed, he knew you were close.

With one final thrust, he buried his cock inside you, spilling his seed inside your womb, giving you all that you asked for. He collapsed on top of you, his arms entwined around your torso, his hands reaching for yours.

“Leon…” you panted, your voice breathless as you clung to him, your arms wrapped tightly around his broad shoulders, “that was amazing. Where did that come from?”

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Leon chuckled as he lazily stroked your cheek with his fingertips. “I dunno. Maybe your meal brought out my inner beast.”