Falling for fall hosted by lorei-writes & violettduchess
Character(s): Lancelot & Mayrose Kingsley
Prompt: falling leaves (angst)
Word count: 736 words
Author’s note: So I got the idea for this story while the writing event was going on, but I got busy with the archives and forgot to actually write it. I’m still publishing it, because I absolutely love my OC and because it’s still autumn (okay, so, almost winter), even if I was late to an event. Lancelot and Mayrose have a twelve year age gap, this story in particular takes place when Rose is only five years old, making Lance seventeen.
A shiver ran through Lancelot’s spine as he walked into his little sister’s bedroom, there was a chill in the air that sank into Lancelot’s body, even despite his long sleeves. The room was silent barring Mayrose’s labored breathing. Outside, the dismal autumn day left the room dim, the grey sky dull and gloomy, with a cold wind that shook the trees within view of the window. It’s been two long, dreary days since Mayrose fell ill, and Lancelot can do nothing but hold her hand while he sits by her bedside. The autumnal snow blowing about outside while not yet sticking to the ground.
“Lance! Watch me!” Rose giggled as throwing leaves into the air, a small swirl of color wrapped around the girl as a gust of wind blew around her and the falling leaves. The pink dress she wore for the day puffed up. But the person whom she cried out to didn’t seem to notice her fun in the fallen leaves, he appeared deep in his conversation with a mint haired boy, some boy named Clemente, or something or other. Rose didn’t pay a lot of attention to the boy who kept stealing her big brother away.
She brushed her hair back from her face with the palms of her hands breathlessly, slightly upset that Lancelot didn’t even seem to notice.
Mayrose ran to her brother’s side. “Lance,” she whined, tugging on the young man’s sleeve.
Lancelot gently patted her head. “Not right now, Rose. In a little bit.”
Rose pouted slightly and went off on her way. Trying to entertain herself, Rose continued to run around. Sometimes she would catch the falling leaves before they would land on the ground. Sometimes she would throw leaves into the air to enjoy the way that they would fall back down. However, there was only so much a young girl could do to entertain herself alone, after some time, Rose went back to trying to catch her older brother’s attention.
“Lance! Lance! Watch!” She threw up another handful of leaves and let the wind encompass her body.
But once again, Lancelot didn’t seem to even look in her direction. Rose’s bottom lip stuck out as she began to pout.
Rose crouched down, pulling the leaves into a giant pile in front of her. As the pile began to grow, she pulled leaves from further away into it. After amassing a large pile, she jumped in it while laughing.
Getting an idea, Rose rushed to pull her brother along, so he could jump into her pile of leaves and have fun too. But once again her brother told her that he would play later.
Rose went back to her leaves, but not accepting defeat, she called out to Lancelot once again, this time, she held her hands over the giant pile, and concentrated. She wanted to make the leaves swirl around her with magic. Lancelot could do it without difficulty. If Lancelot can use his magic, then she can too. She has to be able to, mommy and daddy never paid attention to her. Maybe if she can prove she can use her magic too, they would be a happy family.
But suddenly, as the magic around her shifted, her body grew instantly heavy. Her body began to fall forward. Collapsing into her pile, she fell unconscious. Her body was uncomfortably hot but violently cold at the same time. She felt unbearably heavy, and it hurt to breathe. Rose knew she was asleep, because her eyelids were so heavy and she couldn’t open her eyes. But she felt so restless, that this would be a tiring sleep. She could hear Lancelot calling out to her, holding her even, but his voice seemed so distant though she could feel him picking her up and carrying her inside. Why couldn’t she use magic like her big brother? If she could, maybe her parents wouldn’t pretend she didn’t exist. Even as the only person who acknowledges her, even Lancelot didn’t want to be around a failure who couldn’t properly bear the Kingsley name. She couldn’t fault them. But it hurt. She just wanted to make them proud.
As the wind howled, rattling the window panes, Lancelot’s eyes were focused on the falling leaves as they were blown from the tree branches. Red, yellow, orange, and brown. The falling leaves reminded him of Rose, each so frail and brittle.
extra author’s note: I haven’t actually written a story in so long, I feel so clunky and rusty. the lack of fictional books I’ve read this years doesn’t help matters. I’ve really only read non fiction. So, thank you so much for reading this and bearing with me. i sincerely hoped you at the very least enjoyed it!
Part of : Falling for Fall hosted by @violettduchess and @lorei-writes
Prompt : Cinnamon
Tag: Established relationship Romantic Fluff
Word Count : 2.153
Author’s Note: An home never felt as such before, a welcome unlike any other he had ever received and a gift more beautiful than anything he ever collected, that the ingredients of the sweetest recipe he has ever tasted and now he has the occasion to with her, not shy certainly to showing her the full depth of his love. 🥰
Tag list
@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @aquagirl1978
@william-rex
@writingwhimsey @fang-and-feather
@moonstruckmelancholic @wistfulwanderingone
@rjthirsty @ike-garden2024
@jollibeeshappiness @starzyquee
@maeko-kun @lichtluv @rkmaru
You can find me on AO3 as QueenJuliet 😊
Thank you for everyone who will like, reblog, or comment please be gentle with me english is not my first language so please do not leave rude comments I apologise for eventual errors I hope you will like it 😊
The fire crackled mirthfully in the fireplace welcoming Lord Elbert as he stepped in the hall, a sweet scent tickling his nostrils a mix between her perfume and the scent of his house, a caress to his ear her laugh tingling like a sun catcher in the wind mixed with the chat she entertained with her cat mewling melodramatically at her.
The warmth of that welcome spread from his heart all over his body chasing away the coolness of the early evening air that took over him as he galloped through the vast outlines of his land to return back to her as soon as possible once the mission was finished, exactly as he promised.
Elbert’s soft lips curled in a soft smile as he left his cape and sword at the entrance, each moment apart pure torture threatening to tear his heart to pieces before him but now he hasn’t to wait any longer to see her, only mere inches away he couldn’t wait to cross and engulf her in his arms once more.
He was home.
His house never felt like that before.
But now it did, he thought with a smile.
She was his home.
A revelation sweet as honey and sticking alike to every fiber of his heart, swirling around him like a dance of petals, a rainbow in the summer rain warm and refreshing, a secret revealed like a butterfly fling free in the whirlwind of happiness his life was filled to the brim with happiness, with a spring in his step Elbert walked toward the kitchen, his heartbeats raced as he caught a glimpse of her standing with her back toward the door open, so vulnerable, trusting and innocent … like a butterfly ready to be caught in his net … only to be admired, caressed and set free thereafter.
A mischievous plan took root in his mind as he approached her noiselessly, smiling playfully at the prospect of her delicious reaction, taking delight in the little yelp of surprise she let out as he wrapped his arms around her.
“Welcome back.”
July’s sweet voice was every bit as sweet as he imagined and even more, as she adjusted better in his embrace.
“I am home.”
Elbert sighed in contentment, closing his eyes before slowly reopening them, focusing his gaze crinkled with affection on her, admiring the speck of golden entwined with the light green ones in her eyes, taking his time admiring the little ring of silver around them, her melodic voice pulling him out of reveries as hi gaze shifted now on the soft cupid bow’s of her lips, entrancing him as she spoke.
“I baked some treats waiting for you. I hope they are not too sweet.”
“Don’t worry about that … I am sure they are delicious … everything is when you make it.”
July didn’t need to thank him in words, he knew as much for her shy blush spreading on her cheeks, she tried but in vain to conceal hiding her face in his chest, was enough to tell him exactly all that was going on.
The picture of her waiting for him, staying in their house of her own volition, when she could have left to go anywhere else, was enough to make a strange sort of warmth swirl in his heart at the thought she spent her time thinking of him, exactly as he did, all the while she baked sweets, his house showroom of his love, filled with all things he collected to make her happy, she told him to stick to a gift a day but he couldn’t help but shower her in mountains of objects every time he went out to soothe her loneliness at him being away from her, the same that took over him at each mission.
That sort of thought stormed in his mind, tormenting him with pain from the freedom he took away from her but delighted she was so obedient to stay inside even when he didn’t asked her to, mindlessly he tighten his arms around her, sensing his mood dropping she caressed his hands, entwined on her torso so strongly his knuckles turned white, her little gestures seem to gave him a sort of mental pace enough to pull him away from his thoughts and back to the present, as he brushed a gentle kiss on her temple, bathing in her bright smile as she turned to look at him.
“Do you want a taste?”
“Yes … but first I want to take a bite of something sweeter.”
The playful smile on his lips was nothing short of bedazzling in the warm light of the setting sun filtering through the windows, as his eyes took a strange shade of dark she was all too familiar with but didn’t mind, July smiled as she surrendered to him.
“Elbie…”
Her sigh soon melted into moan as his lips grazed the nape of her neck nibbling on her soft skin, smirking as she arched under him, making it even harder to pull back, a satisfied smile danced on his lips as he brushed his nose on the love bite.
“Scrumptiously sweet.”
His compliment made her blush but she didn’t even try to hide it, knowing that in doing so she would have pleased him, letting him see the state only he could have ever put her into, a complete thoroughly loved mess.
“Can we stay like this a little longer ?”
His usual monotone voice hid a hint of shyness as he asked, nuzzling his nose on her neck, a vulnerable side she was happy to see, an unmistakable sign of how much trust he had in her.
“Of course we can.”
A gently smile curled her lips as July leaned back against his chest, enjoying the warmth of feeling his body so close to hers, mindlessly she caressed the golden band on his fingers before trailing her digit on hers, to prove herself wasn’t a dream but a reality he crafted for her alone, then thought made her heart swell with affection as her gaze trailed on the pastries still scattered messily on the silver tray.
“Elbie.”
“Yes.”
“Do you still want a bite from my treats?”
Her voice came out softer than she expected, still fearing for him to refuse to eat, even after all the times he proved her wrong eating until the last bite of the meal she cooked and sometimes even asking for seconds.
“Of course I do. I pray they tell me what sort of sweet I should expect ?”
“Cinnamon rolls.”
She sighed softly, promptly taking one of the less smoldering ones between her fingers, raising her arm to show it to him.
“They look pretty.”
His words so typical of him made her giggle, earning a slightly confused expression to swim in his ocean blue eyes as he looked down at her quizzically.
“You see I thought the same thing when they finished cooking.”
That confession pleased him immensely, bringing a smile to his lips as he nuzzled his nose on her hair before leaving a gentle kiss on her temple.
“I bet they taste good too.”
“I hope so.”
“There is only one way to find out.”
“Elbie.”
“Yes.”
“Please let me turn around.”
“Alright … but you are forbidden to escape from my arms.”
“Ahahah don’t worry I had no intention to.”
Elbert, loyal to his words, stepped away from her enough to let her spin around between his arms to face him before engulfing her once more in his clingy hug.
“Are you comfortable, July?”
“Yes thank you. Now it’s your turn, take a bite.”
July’s fingers hovered shyly to touch his lips, a smile raised danced on her lips as he leaned to sink his teeth in the soft treat, pulling away only to lick his lips.
“Delicious.”
“I am so happy you think that.”
“Everything you cook is.”
His complement lingered with her so much she barely noticed him taking a treat from the tray until it appeared before her eyes.
“Allow me.”
He was too clever to not notice the shyness bordering on prudish swimming in her gaze as she looked at him, sinking her upper teeth in her bottom lip, a gesture that alone betrayed her sensitive and reserved nature.
“Please July… it would make me happy … but only if you desire it too.”
Elbert knew she was weak to his puppy eyes and so he took advantage of it, looking down at her with that gentle smile she was unable to resist and in fact one moment later she surrendered to him, July’s heavy sigh echoed in the cozy room of the kitchen as she gazed coyly up at him
“I want to.”
A smile danced on his lips as he gazed down at her, brushing his left hand fingers’ on her cheek before placing a kiss on it, drinking in the forbidden view of her supple rosy lips opening to take a bite on the sweet roll, mesmerizing him with the way her pink tongue darted to polish the glass off her upper lip, a sight so erotic so much he couldn’t resist but press his lips on July’s ones.
“I apologize … but you looked so sweet I wanted a taste.”
“There is no need to be sorry … I sort of liked it … it makes me happy you thought this way.”
July nuzzled in his chest trying to conceal the blush on her cheeks, clinging to his shirt letting its soft flowery scent invade her nostrils, engulfing her in his perfume as she was in his warmth, smiling at the sound of his heart beating faster in his chest, she mindlessly caressed pressing a gentle kiss on it.
Elbert’s breath caught in his throat at the endearing sight of her sweet gesture, feeling for once so loved he didn’t know what to do with himself but standing still letting her shower her affection on him, as he did his best to requite, caressing her back as he hold her close to him.
“Please don’t hide away from me, mon amour. I want to see all of you.”
Gently he cupped her face in his hand, smiling at the shyness lingering in her chartreuse eyes gaze as she looked up at him.
“Thank you for the gift. I love everything you give me.”
“They were only sweets, it wasn’t much.”
“It was for me.”
The tender expression in his light blue eyes held her captive, made even more beautiful by the gentleness in his smile as he brushed a kiss on her forehead.
“I am happy to hear you liked my pastries … especially because there are plenty of other ones.”
“I will eat them all if you feed them to me.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
July giggled gazing up at him, only to sigh dreamily at the sight of his sea blue eyes crinkled with affection looking down at her.
“Please do. I don’t mind … but I want you to know that as much as beautiful everything you create for me is, you are and always will be the most priceless treasure of them all for me.”
Elbert’s hands entwined behind her back as he brushed his nose on hers before murmuring a few inches from her lips.
“I love you July, to madness with every fiber of my heart.”
“I love you too, Elbert so very very much.”
He tightened his arms around her, taking delight in the way she leaned on his chest gazing up at him as he brought her in for an improvised dance, they began to spin slowly on the kitchen’s floor minding nothing of the furniture and the objects scattered all around nor about the curious gaze of the mansion’ staff peering into the kitchen before promptly being dismissed by the head butler that in so doing shot the two a last warm glance before retreating back to shoo the servants away.
A magical scenarios made even better as the stars begin to twinkle in the dark navy of the sky, at least their movements slowed down coming to an halt when he wrapped his arms around her, his lips ever gentle as he placed a gentle kiss on her hair, they gazed into each other eyes glimmering with affection conveyed in a sweet kiss she didn’t shied away to deepen welcoming the warm intrusion of his tongue as it entwined with hers.
Only reluctantly they pulled away from one another, with her still engulfed protectively in his hug he caressed her cheek, tightening his arms around her shorter form, taking delight in the way she nuzzled in his embrace, smiling as she dreamily gazed at him, unable to contain her affection July placed a tender kiss on his heart above his shirt clinging to him as Elbert looked down at her with a fond smile.
Event: Falling For Fall
Hosted by: @violettduchess & @lorei-writes
Prompt: Falling leaves & Harvest (Angst + Fluff)
Previous prompt: Rain. Foraging. Moon. Gold. Gossamer. Cinnamon
Characters: Sariel Noir & Luke Randolph & Prince OC [Vernard Mürrisch]
Words : 820
A/N: I spent time thinking about how to write different fanfictions for each one of them and my head ached... so I said why not mix the two prompts together and get it over with? By that I finished all the #Fallingforfallcc prompts yippee!!
[🥮𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐚𝐜̧𝐚𝐝𝐞🍁]
The fall feast was in full swing, the palace gardens ablaze with the colours of the season. Guests milled about, the long tables groaning under a bounty of harvest-themed delicacies: roasted squash, spiced apple cider, and intricate pastries crafted from the season's bounty. Yet, Prince Vernard stood apart, a solitary figure at the edge of the celebration, his usual melancholic air amplified by the festive cheer.
Then, Sariel glided up behind him, his presence as quiet as the falling leaves drifting to the ground. "Prince Vernard," he began, his voice a low, smooth hiss, "I must commend you on your diligence these past few weeks."
Vernard's response was a mere shrug, a dismissive gesture that belied the turmoil within. "I merely…existed," he muttered, his voice raspy, almost apologetic. He hadn't truly played a significant role in the recent events – accompanying Clavis and Chevalier to the border was a matter of duty, not impact; his involvement with Jin and Licht's inspections was trivial, reduced to playful interactions with children.
"You ensured Prince Nokto's timely return from his late-night escapade," Sariel continued, undeterred, "and you spared a great deal of trouble by preventing the usual morning chaos. Also, your assistance in helping Prince Yves select the sweets was… quite insightful. And, I daresay, it spared a few brawls between the other princes," he added with a hint of amusement, gesturing towards the lively scrum surrounding the dessert table where Jin, Leon, Licht, and Luke were battling over the last of the cinnamon buns crumble.
Vernard's lips curved into a cynical smirk. "My intervention with Nokto was simply a means to quell my own insomnia. A distraction, if you will." He spoke of the prince's midnight adventures with a detached cynicism, as if Nokto's time was merely a commodity he'd used to his advantage. "Yves," he continued, "forced me to taste his…creations. As if I could even perceive the sweetness in them. My tongue is numb to sugar, yet I cannot refuse him, you know." His voice was flat, a stark contrast to the warm tones of the fall day.
Sariel's perceptive gaze pierced through Vernard's facade. "And the party that Prince Leon hosted? Did you find it…enlightening?" Vernard's hand instinctively rose to scratch his disabled right ear, a tell-tale sign of evasion. Sariel didn't need a response. He knew the story. He subtly alluded to the incident that had poisoned the atmosphere for Vernard that night, the cruel jabs from nobles who despised him for his mother’s shameful past and his own desperate struggle to find a life outside the gilded cage of the court. The more he associated with the princes, the further he seemed to drift from his goal of escaping their world.
Sariel's voice grew firm, interrupting Vernard's silent, agonizing thoughts. "What you aspire to, Prince Vernard, may not be obtainable. The princes, particularly those closest to you, will not allow you to simply walk away. You have become a vital thread in the tapestry of this court and your absence would unravel far more than you might imagine. They rely on you."
And just like that, Sariel departed, leaving Vernard to the echoes of his own regrets and the weight of his uncertain future. The silence was shattered by a different voice, a hearty, almost boisterous one. Luke materialized beside him, holding aloft a piece of the very dessert that had caused such a commotion. "Managed to snag this one from the brutes," he announced, grinning. "Yves's work, ain't it? Said it was specially selected by you."
Luke, a giant of a young man with a heart of honey, continued, "Thanks for steer'in' me clear of Sariel's snooze-fest the other day. And for tippin' me off to that sweet bakery with the killer honey cakes. Man, were those things good."
Vernard, a flicker of warmth in his usually cold eyes, took the dessert with a slight struggle, and promptly ate it. "No problem, Luke," he muttered, his sigh echoing the bittersweet flavor of the fall season. But even as he chewed, the sweetness remained elusive, a pale imitation of the joy he could never quite grasp. "What was Sariel on about?" Luke questioned, his brow creasing.
"Nothing you need to worry about," Vernard responded, his voice a gentle shield for Luke.
"Right then. Well, I've had my fill of this shindig. Fancy a stroll?" Luke, ever the escape artist, suggested with a playful glint in his eyes.
A genuine smile touched Vernard's lips for the first time that day. "I'd like that," he answered, and they slipped away from the boisterous feast, two figures walking into the golden glow of the setting sun, their steps light and free, leaving the weight of court intrigue and royal duty behind. The falling leaves whispered secrets only they could hear, and the scent of autumn lingered in the air, promising a brief moment of peace amidst the chaos of their lives.
Event: Falling For Fall
Hosted by: @violettduchess & @lorei-writes
Prompt: Cinnamon (fluff)
WC: 954
Previous prompt: Rain. Foraging. Moon. Gold. Gossamer
Characters: Yves Kloss & Prince OC [Vernard Mürrisch]
A/N: I love Yves so much! 😭🩷
🍁[𝐀 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐂𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧]🥞
As the leaves turned to vibrant hues of gold and crimson, the palace buzzed with preparations for the grand Fall Feast. The scent of cinnamon wafted through the air, mingling with the crisp autumn breeze. In the kitchen, Yves was busy, his hands moves gracefully with the soft flour while his honey-like blonde hair falling into his bright blue eyes as he carefully arranged his ingredients on the counter.
“Vernard!” he called, his tone light but commanding, “I need your help!”
Vernard, burdened by the weight of expectations and his younger brother’s insistence, hesitated in the doorway. He ran a hand through his hair, jade eyes matching the autumn-purposed decor. “Help with what exactly? Aren’t you already a master at this?”
Yves smirked, folding his arms as he leaned against the counter. “You know none of the others can be trusted not to gobble everything down before it’s even finished. This is where you come in. Have the honor of becoming my official taste taster.”
Despite his weak hearing, his ear picked up what Yves said, a lump formed in Vernard’s throat. He knew he was bad at dealing with sweet things, but the thought of disappointing Yves was worse. “I don’t think I’m the right candidate for that, Yves…” he murmured, anxiety tugging at him.
“Why not? You’re the only one I can count on to be disciplined,” Yves replied, a slight playful glint sparking in his eyes. “I'm in need for an honest critic, not a greedy goblin.”
Vernard swallowed hard and forced a smile, masking his true predicament. “I suppose... I can manage that.” But deep down, he felt a pang of dread. What if Yves noticed?
As he stepped closer, the kitchen filled with the mingled scents of spices and the soft crackle of pastries baking in the oven, all coated with a sweet promise of autumn delight. “What are you making anyway?” Vernard inquired, hoping to divert his brother’s attention.
“I’m experimenting with cinnamon pastries, inspired by the season.” Yves beamed, his pride evident. “I heard it’s a favorite.”
Vernard nodded, though the thought of pastries left him conflicted. “It sounds... delightful.”
“Delightful?” Yves echoed, an annoyance lilt in his voice. “You sound like you’d rather be anywhere but here.”
“Not at all!” Vernard’s heart raced. “I’m, uh, just focused! Really!”
Yves rolled his eyes. “Calm down, You’ll want to have some, trust me. Also, this time, I want honest feedback. No sugarcoating it… literally!”
“I understand,” Vernard replied, steeling himself. “I’ll do my best.”
Hours passed in a whirlwind of flour, sugar, and laughter. Yves was in his element, practically dancing around the kitchen as he pulled tray after tray of beautifully crafted pastries from the oven. But every time Vernard was offered a taste, his heart would stutter. If only Yves knew…
Eventually, Yves placed a steaming pastry shaped like a maple leaf in front of Vernard, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Ready?”
“Uh—sure!” Vernard picked it up, forcing himself to ignore the burning heaviness in his chest. He took a bite, the sweet scent washing over him as he tried to convince himself that he was tasting it.
But instead, all he felt was a dull echo of flavor on his tongue.
Yves leaned in, eagerness written across his face. “What do you think?”
“It’s… it’s very… autumn...” Vernard stammered, summoning every ounce of creativity he had to interpret the moment. “The cinnamon feels right. And… the texture is especially lovely!”
Yves narrowed his eyes, a hint of suspicion playing on his lips. “You’re dodging the question. You know you could just admit you don’t like my baking.”
“No! I mean, yes! Well—” Vernard fumbled over his words, the truth nearly slipping out. “It’s not that. I just, um, really enjoy watching you bake.”
“Nice try.” Yves said, “But you never join me at tea parties. Why is that? Is my baking really so terrible that it scares you? Is it as bad as Clavis's cooking?”
Deep down, Vernard was wrestling with his fears. “No, it’s just—”
“It’s that—” Vernard quickly backpedaled, trying to maintain his composure. “I just… have other things to do. You know how it is.”
Yves rolled his eyes, the pride of a brother aware of the cracks in Vernard’s facade. “You’re just making excuses. You must have some reason. Tell me, what’s going on?”
Vernard opened his mouth, the urge to confess nearly overwhelming him, but he watched as Yves's blue eyes sparkled with determination and genuine care. He couldn’t burden him with his problem, not when he was so determined to share his talent. “Really, Yves. You don’t need me to taste your cooking. I know you don’t need the validation.”
Yves folded his arms, leaning against the counter as he regarded his older brother. “Oh, but I do.” He narrowed his eyes playfully. “This time, I’m baking for the feast, It’s special. And if you don't want to taste it, well, I’ll just have to make you a few batches until you find something you do like.”
“That sounds…” Vernard started, skin tinged with embarrassment, “like you’re treating me like a child.”
“Perhaps you need a little pampering!” Yves shot back, mischief dancing in his tone. “Now, come here and help me roll this dough.”
As Vernard stepped forward, he felt the heaviness of his secrets pressing inwardly, but in the midst of flour fights and laughter that echoed against the walls, he found comfort in their shared moments. Perhaps today wouldn’t be the day he revealed his taste for bittersweetness. Instead, he would embrace the warmth of the season and the joy of brotherhood that cinnamon rolls and laughter could conjure.
Event: Falling For Fall
Hosted by: @violettduchess & @lorei-writes
Prompt: Gossamer (fluff)
WC: 694
TW : insomnia
Previous prompt: Rain. Foraging. Moon. Gold
Characters: Nokto Klein & Prince OC [Vernard Mürrisch]
A/N: This was hard for me to write since it took me a long time to understand the meaning of the word 'gossamer' 😅
🕸️[𝐆𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬]🍂
The carriage rolled through the moonlit streets, the crisp autumn air seeping in through the slightly ajar window. Leaves, the color of burnt umber and crimson, danced in the faint glow of the streetlamps, their fragile forms like gossamer caught in a gentle breeze. Inside, Vernard, his moonlight-white hair framing a face etched with quiet weariness, leaned back against the plush cushions, a subtle sigh escaping his lips. Nokto, ever the picture of effortless charm, sat beside him, his silver hair gleaming under the dim light, his crimson eyes alight with a mischievous glint.
"My, my, Vernard," Nokto drawled, a teasing lilt to his voice. "It seems the ladies were quite taken with your quiet demeanor tonight. Almost as if they were trying to… whisk you away."
Vernard, never one for elaborate social interactions, simply dismissed the remark with a faint, "Nonsense." His jade eyes, usually sharp and watchful, held a hint of fatigue.
"Oh, come now," Nokto chuckled, sensing the other's desire to end the conversation. "Surely, you don't believe me when I say that your presence was quite the spectacle tonight."
Vernard, recognizing the subtle change in Nokto's tone, knew his brother was trying to gauge his mental state. He sighed again, a deeper sound this time. "I excused myself early. You didn't need to follow me back."
Nokto's teasing facade faded slightly. "I was simply tired of the festivities, so I decided to return." He paused, a hint of sweetness lacing his voice. "Though, one must wonder why such a diligent guardian chose to leave so early. Rest is crucial, especially before unexpected surprises might unfold…"
Vernard's lips tightened, a flicker of irritation in his eyes. "One rests when one dies, Nokto. A guardian's duty knows no respite, no matter how tempting slumber may be. Eyes must remain open, even when the body yearns to close them."
Nokto's gaze softened, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Oh, Vernard. There's no need to encrypt your insomnia in such dramatic fashion. We both know that sleep doesn't come easily for you."
Vernard flinched, a subtle twitch of his right ear, his only giveaway of discomfort. He quickly scratched it, pretending not to have heard Nokto.
The silence that followed was filled with unspoken words, the rustling of the carriage and the whisper of autumn leaves. It was a silent understanding between the two princes, a bond of shared experiences, and perhaps, a touch of unspoken sympathy on Nokto's part.
Nokto continued, the teasing tone returning, though with a gentler touch. "You know, the palace residents are starting to miss your ever-present… organization. Leon, Jin, Yves, Licht… even Sariel."
Vernard's lips curved into a slight, almost imperceptible smile. "I want them to get used to it. It's one of the reasons I find myself accompanying you and the rest to these… arduous endeavours."
Nokto chuckled, a warmth in his voice. "You say that every time you leave the palace for days on end, yet they refuse to let you truly disappear from their sight. They'll never quite understand your desire for distance."
Vernard leaned forward, his gaze distant, as if looking past the carriage windows toward an undefined horizon. "I will manage, Nokto. One day, the name 'Vernard Mürrisch' will be nothing but a forgotten echo. It's my ambition."
Nokto's smile faded slightly. He knew Vernard meant every word, the desire for anonymity, for escape from the suffocating palace life. But he only let out a light laugh, choosing to brush the comment aside, hiding his understanding and a flicker of concern for the other. He looked at Vernard, mirroring Licht's understanding way of seeing the world, a sympathy that only few could see.
The carriage finally pulled up to the palace gates, the sprawling stone structure a looming silhouette against the star-studded sky. The autumn air, now a tangible presence, seemed to hold its breath as the two brothers exited the carriage, and walked towards the palace, each carrying their own burdens and secrets.
The gossamer threads of their complicated relationship, like the fragile autumn leaves, danced in the uncertain breeze, a testament to the delicate and intricate tapestry of their intertwined lives.
Event: Falling For Fall
Hosted by: @violettduchess & @lorei-writes
Prompt: Gold (angst)
Previous prompt: Rain. Foraging. Moon.
Characters: Jin Onii-chan Grandet & Licht Klein & Prince OC [Vernard Mürrisch]
Words: 976
TW: Mention of blood, past trauma, brief mention for a medical condition
A/N: was planning to make this an art or portrait but didn't have the power nor the time to do it so here have s fic instead... Pls don't hate me after this like my lil sis gonna do 😭💔😞 this is by far the angstiest angst I WROTE... Not thought... WROTE, cuz the angsts I think abt on daily basis are more worse than this...
🍁[𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧'𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐋𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭]🍁
The crisp autumn air wrapped around the trio of princes as they made their way through the sprawling districts of their kingdom, the leaves swirling in shades of gold and amber. Prince Vernard, tall and poised, walked slightly behind his companions, Jin and Licht, who were embroiled in a lighthearted squabble.
“Today isn’t even my turn!” Jin huffed, exasperation lacing his voice. “Yves planned this whole inspection just to keep me away from the sweets he’s baking for the fall feast! I know he’s going to pack them all away before even a single crumb reaches me.”
Licht interrupted with arms crossed. “You know that’s exactly what would happen, Jin. You’d eat them all, while I have more self-control than you.”
“Self-control?” Jin shot back, a challenging smirk dancing on his lips. “C'mon, I see the way you stare longingly at Yves' dessert too, Licht.”
Turning to Vernard, Jin raised an eyebrow. “What do you think, Vern? Is this fair or not?”
Meanwhile, Vernard, lost in the midst of his own thoughts as he absently scratched his right ear -the disabled ear- blinked as his brothers’ voices filtered back to him. “Hm...? What? Oh, I—sorry. I wasn’t paying attention, what were you saying?” he asked sheepishly and genuinely confused. While Jin and Licht exchanged knowing looks; it was a familiar occurrence, the weight of the world on Vernard’s shoulders often distracting him from the joyous banter that surrounded him.
As they entered the county, the excitement of autumn unfolded around them, the vibrant foliage a stark contrast to the heaviness in Vernard’s heart. While Jin and Licht began their work, examining the needs of the local populace, Vernard remained a few paces behind, vigilant and ready to assist if called upon.
A group of raucous children caught the attention of the two princes, their laughter ringing like chimes in the wind. They bounded toward Jin and Licht, all bright giggles and eager faces, but the princes were too absorbed in their tasks. Vernard, however, couldn’t resist; he let out a sharp whistle, beckoning the children over.
“Come on! Over here!” he called, a warmth flooding him as they rushed to his side. Jin pointed to Vernard with an approving grin. “See? You can play with him.”
Without a second thought, the children flocked to Vernard, clamoring for his attention. One little girl grabbed his hand, tugging him to come play, “Will you play with us, mister?” she inquired, Vernard couldn’t resist the innocent joy sparkling in her eyes.
With a nod of encouragement from Licht and Jin, he surrendered, joining the children in their exuberant play.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the horizon in hues of gold, the children led Vernard to a magnificent tree, its gnarled branches now stripped bare, creating a carpet of fallen leaves that shimmered like gilded treasures. The children dived into the sea of yellow-gold, laughter spilling from their lips like a joyous melody.
“C'mon, mister Verny! Join us” one child cried, their eyes sparkling with innocent mischief.
Vernard felt a flutter of embarrassment. He was no longer a child embarking on whimsical adventures; he was a prince, burdened by the shadows of his past and duties. Yet, drawn by their laughter, he relented. He leapt toward them, but in his exuberance, he tripped, tumbling back into the harvest of leaves with a soft thud. The children erupted into delighted giggles, filling the air with pure, untainted joy.
Vernard lay back, eyes trained on the vast sky above, where remnants of clouds drifted lazily. For a moment, he felt free—
Until the past anchored him down... Again...
Suddenly, the golden leaves morphed, twisting into a homogenous sea of crimson, the laughter was replaced by unsettling silence. Corpses scattered around him, their faces void of life, all except for himself—an island of breath amidst an ocean of death.
He was back there again, ten years prior, amidst the blood-stained rose war. The memory washed over him, thick and suffocating, clinging to his skin like the chill in the autumn air. How could he be alive when they weren’t? It felt both a curse and a blessing, wrapped together like the hues of fall leaves.
Startled, he bolted upright, his heart racing as reality crashed back in like a wave. One child reached for him, worry etched across their small face. “Are you okay, mister Verny?”
Fighting to shake off the specter of that grim memory, he gathered the child close, arms tightening around their small form. The warmth of the child’s innocence was a balm, but it wasn’t enough to dispel the storm brewing within him.
Across the clearing, Jin and Licht stood patiently, concern evident as they scanned Vernard’s expression. Vernard’s smile was strained, painted with sorrow. The laughter of children surrounded him, but in his eyes lay the shadows of lives lost.
Jin stepped forward, gentleness in his tone, masking the sorrow beneath. “It’s time to head back, Vern.”
Nodding, Vernard rose, turning reluctantly from the children who waved goodbye with innocent hearts. He returned the gesture, but the sadness in his gaze lingered, haunting the edges of his smile.
As they began to walk back toward the palace, Licht turned to Jin, his voice cool but edged with concern. “He remembered again, didn’t he?”
Jin nodded, glancing back at Vernard, the distance a reminder of the burdens hidden beneath gold-embroidered robes. “It’s hard to forget, especially when joy becomes a mirror reflecting pain. Laying among those leaves and kids reminded him too much of the past, just as it reminded him of what he lost.”
The golden hues of autumn enveloped them, but as they returned to the palace, Vernard’s heart carried the weight of memories, each step a conflict between the vibrant life surrounding him and the shadows that still clung to his spirit.
Event: Falling For Fall
Hosted by: @violettduchess & @lorei-writes
Prompt: Moon (angst)
Previous prompt: Rain, Foraging
Words: 745
Characters: Leon Dompteur & Prince OC [Vernard Mürrisch]
A/N: there might be a slight mention for a medical condition here...
🌕[𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐆𝐚𝐳𝐞]🌕
The grand ballroom was nothing short of a tempest, a swirling chaos of laughter, whispered intrigue, and clinking glasses that battered against Vernard’s senses. He stood beside Leon, yet feeling more like a ghost haunting the depths of this extravagant gathering. The nobles around them were radiant in their finery, their voices a symphony of ridiculous banter. But to Vernard, they were a cacophony, jarring and intrusive, made louder by the burden of his partial deafness. As he cupped his good left ear, trying to dampen the sound, he wondered if they could see the storm brewing within him—a tempest as fierce as the autumn winds howling outside.
“Vernard Mürrisch,” Leon introduced him, extending a hand toward a pompous nobleman whose expression darkened at the mere sound of Vernard's name. “My brother. He’s been quite the contributor.”
The sly remark dripped with condescension, and Vernard felt the weight of the nobleman's gaze pierce through him, each word heavy like chains. “And what does someone like him know of contributions?” the nobleman sneered, his voice dripping with disdain, unaware that Vernard was all too familiar with such taunts.
“Leon, please…” Vernard murmured, but his brother was already stepping forward, the warmth of his presence shielding Vernard from the biting chill of aristocratic scorn.
“Hey now,” Leon’s voice rang with righteous yet calm fury, silencing the nobles momentarily. “Vernard is my brother, and he deserves your respect.”
Yet even as Leon defended him, Vernard felt the shadows closing in. The crowd’s murmur resumed, and the air buzzed with gossip, painted with the taint of scandal and judgment. He knew their thoughts; they whispered about the truth of his birth, his mother’s shameful past, as if this was a truth that trailed behind him like a ghost. He could feel the heat of their disapproval gnawing at him, and the ballroom walls began to close in, pressing against his chest like the firm grip of autumn’s chill.
Without warning, the world around him drowned in a haze, and Vernard slipped away from the crowd, seeking refuge on the balcony. The moon hung high above, a brilliant full orb in the inky sky. He leaned against the cool stone, feeling the gentle breeze caress his skin, as he closed his eyes.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Leon’s voice interrupted the contemplative silence, softer now, as warmth followed him outside. “You ran away so quickly, I thought I’d lost you.”
Vernard opened his eyes to meet the glowing face of the moon, its silver light washing over him. “They don’t understand, Leon,” he whispered, his voice low, almost swallowed by the night. “It’s easier to be in the shadows.”
“Why do you say that?” Leon asked, tilting his head. “You deserve to shine—”
“Like the sun?” Vernard cut in, his gaze fixing fiercely on the moon, reflecting its glow. “You’re the sun. You’re the warmth that draws them all in,” he gestured broadly, “while I’m just the moon—an afterthought, a pale echo of your brightness. They can’t see me without you.”
“Vernard…” Leon began but faltered, heart aching at the depth of his brother's sorrow that lay bare within his words. “You know how I feel about you—I admire you. You’re not an afterthought to me.”
Vernard chuckled bitterly, eyes narrowing at the glowing orb above him. “You see light where others only see shadow. Just like the moon draws its light from the sun, I have always lived in your shadow. I can’t help but wonder if I am destined to reflect your brilliance, while never being seen for my own, they don't see ME, they see what I am...”
“You are more than a reflection,” Leon insisted, stepping closer, the warmth of his presence nearly igniting Vernard’s cold heart. “You’re…”
But the air grew thick, the words stuck in Leon’s throat. Vernard turned back to the moon, so luminescent and yet so far away, just as he felt from these people, from the family he craved.
“Just like the moon pulls at the tides,” Vernard murmured, gaze transfixed. “I feel like I’m caught between the tides of your light and their disdain; I want to break free, but I can’t seem to find my way. I fear I am forever fated to dance in the shadows.”
The moon shone down upon him, indifferent yet beautiful, embodying all the bittersweet longing that knotted in his chest, guiding him through an endless autumn of despair.
