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violettduchess · 10 months

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A/N: Better late than never! Not a request, just my imagining what these lovely suitors would be like with an infant that wakes up crying 💜

CW: babies, breastfeeding

Suitors x female reader

WC: 2045

A cry rings out through a peaceful summer night at the palace.

It is small, but powerful.

And very, very insistent.

Leon

A light sleeper by nature, he gets up, murmuring for you to try and keep sleeping when he notices you stirring too. "I'll see what I can do for the little peanut." He crosses the room to the white bassinet with its pale pink ruffles, a gift from Uncle Yves. Inside his infant daughter is fussing. Tiny fists are clenching and unclenching as her small head turns fitfully left and right.

“Ah, c’mere sweetheart,” he says, voice still rough with sleep as he lifts her gently, laying her against his bare shoulder. One large hand rubs her back as he walks the length of the room, her tiny cheek warm as a spot of sunshine against his shoulder.

“I can take her–” you start to say as you push yourself upright in the bed, but he shakes his head, holding up a finger.

“I think we’ve got this handled, love. Take a look.” He walks over to your side of the bed, his hand still gently stroking the baby’s back. Her tiny head with its halo of black hair rests against him and is still. Not able to see her face, he turns sideways, giving you the sweetest view of your handsome, bare-chested husband holding your daughter close, her small face now relaxed again in sleep. Her father’s warmth was enough to solve whatever problem had woken her and she's drifted back off to the soft, hazy world of baby dreams.

You smile, feeling the way your heart expands, a paradox: never has it been so full of love and yet so very, very light.

Clavis

He wakes up immediately at his son’s first cry and is out of bed before the sound can even penetrate your deep sleep. He knows how often you get up, how often you are the only one who can satisfy your son’s voracious demands for food but Clavis has told himself that the little tyrant's demands that don't require milk, he will take care of himself. You, his dearest of dears, need as much sleep as you can get.

He bends down over the baby’s cradle, brushing back the boy’s angel-soft hair, the same twilight shade as his. “So noisy at such a late hour. My my. This won’t do.” Carefully he scoops up his son, adjusting his pajamas and then his hand freezes.

“Oh dear. I think I see why you’re so upset, little Lelouch.” The baby continues to whimper, little cries that, although Clavis knows they are harmless, still feel like they are stabbing right into the center of his tender heart. He never wants to hear his child in distress.

Reaching up, he turns the small knob on the lamp above the dresser where you have all of the baby’s changing things neatly laid out. His son squeaks out little sounds of agitation. “I’ve got you, don't worry. Papa's got you, always and--my goodness, how does such a tiny body produce this much liquid?” He talks, his words soft and almost sing-song as he changes his son’s pajamas and diaper with practiced hands. The baby, now removed of his damp clothing, stops whimpering, instead blinking up at his father with wide golden eyes.

“There has got to be a better solution to this than soaking all those linen diapers,” he mutters as he carefully slides chubby legs into fresh little stockings. “I bet I could invent something that might absorb all your perfectly healthy but still oh so stinky messes much better.” The baby kicks his legs and waves his arms, as if cheering in agreement and Clavis laughs softly, lifting his son back into his arms. “You agree with Papa? You think I can do that? Of course you do.”

He walks back to the cradle, turning his head to place a gentle kiss to the apple of his son’s plump cheek. He could hold him in his arms forever, never tiring of that infant smell, that the feel of his warm little body so trusting and sweet against him.

He pauses in front of the cradle. “Hmm….I know. Let’s go on a little nocturnal journey down the hall while talking through some chemicals and their rates of absorption. I bet you’ll be a perfectly delightful assistant.”

Jin

Both you and Jin yawn, sleepily rubbing at your eyes as your daughter’s cries fill the bedroom. One glance at the time and he sighs, reaching over to tenderly touch your cheek with the back of his hand. “She’s on time, our little one,” he murmurs in his deep voice even as you are pushing yourself up with one hand and already unbuttoning your nightgown with the other.

He gets up, walking over to the crib where the infant is crying, her shock of brownish hair standing up in every direction. “Mommy’s already getting ready for you, princess,” he says as he reaches down and lifts her. She’s so small in his large hands. He walks back to bed, murmuring soft little shushing noises, and then carefully hands her over to you. You help her find the right position and then sigh when she begins to nurse, her cries immediately quieted. Glancing up, you find Jin sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you both with a curiously thoughtful expression.

“What is it?”

He watches you a moment, then shakes his head, a sheepish grin on his handsome face. “It’s just….I’ve always liked that particular body part.” You snort, running your fingers over your baby’s fine chestnut hair. “That’s an understatement.” He chuckles, shrugging before continuing his thought. “Yeah well…it’s just…I think….now that I see ‘em being used to feed our little girl….I think….I think I actually like them MORE now.”

You can’t help it. You start giggling, a burst of yellow happiness that colors the gray exhaustion of new parenthood. “God, I love you.” You crook a finger at him and he matches your smile as he climbs back into bed and leans close to you. You place a kiss on his chiseled cheekbone, warm and affectionate. A sigh born of tender happiness is his answer, along with the words, “I love you too.”

Silvio

“Stay in bed. I’ll go.” He’s up, striding across the bedroom to the bassinet before you can even finish rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Aye, piccolino, sono qui.” He reaches down, running a hand over the restless infant's back. But no soothing words or pets seem to be enough. He lifts the baby carefully, still in that new stage of fatherhood where a baby feels like the most fragile thing in the world.

You watch your two pale-haired men, frowning slightly as the littlest one continues to fuss. "He can't be hungry again, can he?" You have just finished feeding him until he fell into a milk-drunk state of blissful sleep, his body heavy and warm, not thirty minutes ago. He had been sleeping so soundly that hope for more than an hour of sleep at one time had risen in your heart.

Silvio lays the baby against his shoulder. His hands are bare, with only his simple gold wedding band left on his elegant fingers. Every other piece of jewelry has been removed for the sake of his child. Necklaces would get in the way of his son sleeping on his bare chest. Earrings might hinder his ability to press his cheek against his fine, moonlight-spun hair.

"Ain't no baby in the world that could eat again after all that milk." He inclines his head towards his son. "Listen to you, cucciolo. All that growling." He rubs his small back in soothing circles. And then the most extraordinary thing happens: the tiny prince lets out the most raucous of burps. The kind that sends a quake through his little body.

"Dio mio," his father mutters, blue eyes wide as he looks down at his son. You grin through your sleepiness. "Here I thought only his grumbling was like his father."

Gilbert

His daughter's cry shatters the night's peace in an instant. Both you and Gilbert wake up immediately, but he's quicker than you, throwing back the covers and crossing the room to the cradle carved from darkest walnut.

He spots the problem immediately. At some point during the night she had kicked her blanket to the end of her cradle where it lies bunched up and useless. Her socks are nowhere to be seen, a display of her magician-like talent for making them disappear. He reaches down and sure enough, her tiny feet are like ice blocks.

"Always the same thing with you, oder Mäuschen? What have socks ever done to you?” He lifts her from her cradle, tucking her securely into the crook of his arm as he makes his way over to the dresser that has been designated hers. You reach across the bed, turning on the lamp that sits on his nightstand and he glances at you over his shoulder, eyes bright with appreciation. “Thank you, Häschen.” Now he can see better, his fingers trailing over the tiny rolled up socks and tights. When the baby makes a small cooing sound, he stops. “These?” He pulls out a pair of soft black tights embroidered with mini red roses. “Ahh a good choice.”

He hums as he walks over to the changing table, the sound soft and soothing, the gentle rush of a river through the night. As he carefully changes her diaper and then works her plump little legs into the tights, humming gives way to him singing. "Der Mond ist aufgegangen…"

She is curious, all thoughts of crying gone, watchful crimson eyes blinking as she keeps her gaze on the source of the calming sound. “Fertig,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to the soles of her now covered feet. "All done." Then he lifts her, carrying her not to her cradle but back to the bed. He slides in, leaning back against the support of the many bed pillows, settling in. Her eyes are already closing as she snuggles in close against his chest.

You watch them both with a smile as tender as the moon’s joy in the stars.

Chevalier

The man who took an army to wake up is on his feet in an instant. He is silent as he crosses the room, leaning down to check on his crying daughter, her pale head of blond hair gleaming silver in the moonlight. He carefully lifts her from the bassinet, marveling in the back of his mind at how very small she is.

He glances back to the bed where you are still deeply asleep. “Your mother is exhausted from all your demands.” He wouldn’t usually condone speaking to a baby as they are incapable of understanding but he’s found that she calms down when she hears his voice. Even now her whimpering stops, her tiny cheek resting on the soft linen of his shirt. She’s gone very still, as if truly listening to his words. “You’ve eaten twenty minutes ago. We can eliminate hunger. Your bottom is….” He pats it gently, checking. “...perfectly dry. The room is neither too hot nor too cold.” He wraps his hands around her feet. She’s still wearing her white socks trimmed with yellow lace. “Your feet are adequately covered.” He tips his head back to look down at her. Her perfect, tiny fingers are curled into his shirt and her body feels heavy, drowsy with sleep.

She attempts to turn her head, burying her face in his shoulder and he reaches up, helping her, running his strong fingers over her downy hair when she has found a position that is comfortable. Chevalier walks over to the white wooden rocking chair you have positioned by the window and lowers himself into it.

“You simply wanted to be held, didn’t you?” A heavy, stuttering sigh leaves her small body, almost as if in answer to her father’s line of questioning. He cups her head with his hand, tilting his face down to place a soft kiss on her hair. “I’ll comply, little one.” He settles into the chair and begins rocking gently back and forth, father and daughter, bathed in loving, silvery moonlight.

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

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acreattaviacco · 7 months

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Rhodolite Princes With: Rio, Sariel, Emma

My compilation of artworks that are the Rhodolite Princes with the castle staff?(Rio, Sariel, Emma)

A few notes:(Just my ramblings)

-I drew all the Rhodolite Princes and Sariel! I am a happy bunny now!...and time to finish other artworks oh well -The more I draw Chevalier the more I find out he's fun to draw next to Rio, Yves and Silvio hahahaha...help me I'm memorized by his hair -The combination of Luke, Rio, and Licht while a bit melancholic it's a wholesome trio that is similar to the Keith, Licht and Yves Trio -I was gonna put all the names of the princes but that would be redundant but the tags ouch...and hope you like it

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queen-dahlia · 1 year

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Here are the grooms 💖💖💖

#イケメン王子 #ikemen prince #ikeprince #ikepri #gilbert von obsidian #silvio ricci #keith howell #jin grandet #chevalier michel #clavis lelouch #leon dompteur #yves kloss #licht klein #nokto klein #luke randolph #rio ortiz #sariel noir

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ikesimpleton · 2 months

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#confused brothers are confused #ikepri #ikemen series #chevalier michel #ikepri chevalier #ikemen cybird #ikepri jin #ikepri yves #ikepri licht #ikepri luke #luke randolph #jin grandet #licht klein #yves kloss #my honeys a bunny route spoilers #ikemen prince

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xxsycamore · 6 months

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𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝟔𝟗

↬ 📜 The Belle Covenant, Clause 69: "A just king ought to give his country as much as he takes. Belle is to oversee his equal sharing, for he must learn to treat his country the way he treats a lover." Emma initiates 69 with each prince. You know, for political reasons.

Leon x Emma; Chevalier x Emma; Yves x Emma; Nokto x Emma; Licht x Emma; Jin x Emma; Clavis x Emma; Luke x Emma • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: 69 (Sex Position); Oral Sex; Rough Oral Sex; Cunnilingus; Bathroom Sex; Gentle Sex; Rough Sex; Deepthroating; Blow Jobs; Face-Sitting; Multiple Orgasms; Vaginal Fingering; Vaginal Sex • wordcount: 2,241 • masterlist

a/n: Welcome to my personal kinktober challenge, Visions of Temptation 2022 - that's right, last year's one. You can find the new one, Visions of Temptation 2023, here. DAY 1: ORAL SEX | SIXTY-NINE

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

The Belle Covenant, Clause 69:

"A just king ought to give his country as much as he takes. Belle is to oversee his equal sharing, for he must learn to treat his country the way he treats a lover."

"Now, Prince Leon, let's see if you're more of a taker or a giver…"

Propped up on his elbows on the bed, Leon had just told Emma he's hers to play with. He's so casual as ever, always there for her, ready to give a shoulder where she needs it. From how well they clicked it was bound to happen sooner or later, ending up in the same bed. Seeing Emma turn around and straddle his torso, Leon is pretty sure she's taking him for a ride.

Until she gets all comfortable with his cock in her mouth, retaining this position.

Now, Leon is not the one to idly sit and be pleased by someone without returning the gesture. It just doesn't sit right with him, when all it takes is a swift maneuver and Emma's leaking pussy would be right in front of his face and ready to be ravished.

The vigor with which Leon swirls his skilled tongue inside her depths can only be rivaled by the way hers wraps around the girth of his cock, tracing the delicious vein that protrudes on its side. She switches for teasing the slit of his tip, and Leon groans; the pleasure ricocheting right back to her core in the form of a sultry vibration.

"Suck it harder. Damn it, Emma, just like that… I'm going to cum, Emma. Cum with me."

They're locked in this loop of giving and taking all the way until their mutual peak hits. Hard.

Leon surely is a master of this trade, in addition to guiding her and praising her. She hums in bliss and takes a mental note of his skills, for future reference.

Chevalier is a tough nut to crack. First, he needs a good reason to cooperate regarding any of the clauses in the list. Why would he care? Second, he needs a good reason to comply specifically with the absurdish idea that Emma poses about 'testing his justness'. So she gets a little creative and a little mischievous, and gives him the necessary push.

In a little game of (big) cat and mouse, Emma jumps from the sofa to the bed before Chevalier can put his claws on her. Backed against the headboard of the bed, she has nowhere to escape, but the book that started it all remains in a secure hold against her chest.

"I'll give you your precious book back if you give me something in return. Or does the mighty future king of Rhodolite not see it fit to give in order to take?"

"The 'mighty future king of Rhodolite' doesn't fancy anyone touching his property with their dirty little hands," He looms in closer, caging Emma's body with his own, knowingly intimidating her, "And he has nothing to negotiate with thieves."

The book is snatched from her hands without much fight, and Emma sinks further down the headboard in defeat. The wise thing to do would be to retreat and rethink her strategy - and definitely not to try and seduce an angry Chevalier by letting out an accidental whine while she's still trapped sprawled beneath him in his lair.

Chevalier remains there, only raising an eyebrow - he shouldn't be too surprised by her open provocations at this point, but it's like he senses something genuine in her supposed act.

"You're hopeless, simpleton."

A sequence of Emma's half-spoken questions and puzzled sounds is merely background noise to the rapidly changing pace of events, as the big cat in front of her lies down and turns on his back. It's not exactly the equivalent of it trustingly showing its belly for rubs.

Emma's slightly trembling legs are gotten a secure hold of, as Chevalier drags her closer and on top of him - almost trying to be gentle but failing - until she's practically straddling his face.

Her pulse quickens rapidly as if she's been granted a throne she is unworthy of.

Just for tonight, she shuts her eyes and accepts the empowering pleasure it entails.

Sucking on her aroused nub until she sees stars, he almost makes her forget the idea behind this ordeal, until she has to remind herself about working for his pleasure too. Chevalier almost doesn't let her - at first, she thinks it's an additional dragging on of things for him, a bother. Once he lets her play with his intimidatingly big cock, though, it proves to be something different. The prideful second prince catches up with her heightened arousal shockingly quickly. His ministrations become sloppier. Such an exchange of pleasure, Emma concludes, is unfamiliar to him. He masks it very well - because by the time she reaches her own orgasm, it feels euphoric. He gave her a lot, and he took a lot, too.

Yves is almost too pretty right now. Emma laments not having him eat her out in a pose where she can watch his pretty face, his perfect features pressed into her cunt, his cute little nose squished against her clit.

His cupid's bow kissing her glistering, swollen pussy lips.

Yves maneuvers his frame swiftly over her body, just-bathed porcelain skin smelling of expensive oils and silky-to-the-touch caresses ghosting over Emma's equally cared-for body, as they shared intimacies in the bath beforehand.

Their exchange of pleasure is harmonic; voices joining together in a melody as they moan, aromas entangling in the air and delicate sensations as they roll in the clean, luxurious bedsheets. Yves softly guides Emma's body sideways before laying down the opposite way, muscles relaxing all over, safe for the ones of their sexes which are maddeningly pulsing in a chase towards a mutual peak.

Yves' love would trick you with tasting rigid demand coated with egoism; then reminiscent of a dessert with soft-crème heart, upon a bolder bite you'll discover what having your senses spoiled really feels like.

From someone with a mouth as big as Nokto's, Emma expects nothing but a big performance to come. She's in for a little more than she bargained for, she finds out as soon as her world turns upside down.

Looking at Emma now, Nokto connects the dots rather quickly as to why she's suddenly feeling coquettish like that - lounging on his couch whenever he's around is one thing, but getting so comfy that she's basically dangling her legs over the backrest, her best bedroom eyes following Nokto upside-down… He wonders if his antics are rubbing off her, or if she's giving him a taste of his own medicine. Hands folded casually on her belly, she finally poses the question that's been hanging heavily in the air, while Nokto dresses himself for another night out. It's now or never.

Emma is suddenly the fox's appetizer when he leans down and buries his face between her legs, the hem of her dress conveniently ridden up on her waist as if to clear his way.

She's never before given a blowjob upside-down but she likes a challenge. Nokto's crouch is right there in front of her face, so she makes quick work of his belt that he hasn't even fastened all the way earlier during his preparations for going out. It works out surprisingly well, a quick and explosively pleasurable deal sealed with a gush of fluid on their tongues.

Nokto works swiftly when there is gain for him, and surprisingly plays fair, too.

Like the carnivore he is deep inside, Licht loves taking his pray to his den. His room is mostly veiled in darkness and Emma's eyes are not well-adjusted to it by the time Licht begins ravishing her, but there is no fear in her heart. His tonguing on her heated core is calculated and it's nothing greater than what her body can take - and it comes naturally to her to want to give him something in return.

They're in no hurry, taking turns pleasuring each other, usually one being breathless and halting ministrations because of those of the other party. Emma feels shy being so vocal with a partner that only occasionally grunts every now and then. His giving is silent but evident and abundant, and she feels like putty in his strong hands. Licht takes long sweeps of his tongue on her sex, dragging her whole body back and forth with the impact, not caring that the bobbing of Emma's head turns sloppier. Once he releases his pent-up desire whole in her mouth, he tells her to spit if she wants - and feels his blood rushing forth hotly when she doesn't. In the much-appreciated post-sex cuddles session afterward, Emma catches a glimpse of a smile and dozes off contently.

Everything Emma learned about Jin's sex life, she learned against her will. Though it would be a lie if she said she wasn't once curious whether the rumors were true.

Her observations so far are that as many women the first prince has taken to bed, he is in the habit of behaving like he hasn't been with one in ages. Paying attention to every naked millimeter of her skin, Jin's hands never stop roaming, pleasuring, loving. He also eats her out as if he hasn't put food in his mouth for decades, she notices - a deep masculine grunt leaving his throat at the first taste of her hot juices on his tongue. He is a big boy who doesn't mind getting dirty, and that might be the best thing about him, as much as Emma refuses to admit. His technique is worked to perfection - the youthfully needy opening act serving just to trick her. It's funny how she attempted to blow him first and then turn it into a hot sixty-nine from there, when in reality he was the one to initiate that. Jin always struck her as the person who likes to sit back in his seat, one hand propping up his chin, one on her head, as he's been serviced. But he is a giver, a damn good giver.

Emma doesn't know why she had expectations of Clavis doing this straightforwardly and fairly, when he's already a well-known menace outside the bedroom. Being naked and open for his cruel teasings, for the touch of those wicked fingers that aim to irritate and to never satisfy, it drives her crazy. Clavis demands to be the one touching her and not the other way around - after all, there are so many ways to play with a bunny like Emma, why limit themselves to some boring position? Clavis has Emma climaxing twice on his fingers before he finally allows her to return some of the pleasure, guiding his flushed tip past her thoroughly kissed and swollen lips. She then understands - for all Clavis is worth, he's prone to becoming an absolute mess once pleasured. The little delicious gasp falling from his beautiful curved lips soon turns into a hearty moan, laced with desperateness and lust as he pushes Emma's head to urge her to take more of his cock inside her tight, warm throat. His little plan of turning her into a pliant, overstimulated pile of limbs is unsuccessful when he possesses a voice so erotic it sees her hunger awaking once again, head full of thoughts about riding him until sunrise. In addition, Clavis seems to enjoy the rougher manner of Emma seating her dripping cunt directly on his face, leaving him almost no room to breathe. Maybe riling her up was all in favor of receiving her harsh command of "Shut up already and pleasure me properly!"

The chances of coming with the upper hand when bargaining with Clavis are low, but the headaches are always worth it in the end.

Luke should have been the gentle giant who lets Emma catch a breather even in moments of burning lust. That's how she always imagined him to be with a lover - barely-there touches exchanged between relaxed sighs, lying down in some secluded napping spot that would once again serve its true purpose once every last drop of pleasure is squeezed out of their bodies.

Well. While it does sound good enough to Emma, she wouldn't trade her current position for anything in the world.

Adrenaline rushing all through her body, Emma's heart is about to leap out of her chest with the sheer lasciviousness of how Luke has her right now.

Someone as tall and strong as him, she should've prepared herself to be putty in his hands. To be folded in positions she couldn't paint with her imagination… or, like right now, to be picked up with her ass up and held in the air as Luke shamelessly devours her cunt.

With pleasure rendering her silly, she can't possibly hold back from attempting to suck his cock while in this position, even if its massiveness in its full erect glory intimidated her at first. For the timid, vanilla experience she expected, fucking like animals is the last thing she saw coming from Luke - and she suddenly finds himself at his mercy as he has complete control over her body.

The aftercare is more reminiscent of her initial thoughts, and coming down from her high never felt better. Once you awaken the slumbering monster inside the youngest prince of Rhodolite, you're in for more than you bargained for.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @princess-pray-a @claviscollections @aceuuuuu Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

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lorei-writes · 3 months

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HC: Awfully Similar

Chevalier, Clavis, Leon, Jin, Silvio ~1k words Premise: Little (awful) ways in which his child is (awfully) similar to him.

Chevalier

His daughter does not reply to questions when the answer is positive. Additionally, ever since she has learnt to speak in full sentences, she took a liking to the words "indeed" and "drivel".

"Say 'aaah'."

"Drivel, papa."

"Your throat is sore. You have to drink your syrup."

"Indeed. Still, drivel, papa."

His son is dreadfully difficult in the mornings. It's so bad that only Chevalier is (generally) able to wake him up. (That being said, waking Chevalier up is still a herculean task, the difficulty level of which has only been increasing with each child. Uncle Clavis is devastated whenever he has to look after his nephews and nieces... or makes the mistake of scheduling anything before noon.)

None of them like breakfasts -- the only way to get them to eat it is having either of their parents to prepare it. No matter how hard Chevalier tries, they declare to like their mother's cooking better... possibly to mess with him a little bit. (Chevalier? Jealous? Over such trivial matter? What drivel.)

His youngest son has inherited his intimidating aura. Overall, he looks just like Chevalier when he was little. However, much like Clavis, he's also a ball of chaotic laughter. The juxtaposition gives his uncles whiplash every single time.

Clavis

His son is awfully dramatic.

"Father! Guard! I am being taken from this world, the dawn lights shall welcome me no more!" <- he has fallen and scratched his knee while on a walk with Cyran

"Mother loves me not, papa."

"Oh? Why should you say that?"

"Why? Isn't it obvious? She's cooked me brussels sprouts."

His son is also vert studious when it comes to learning. His primary interests lie in physics and... literature, which explains some of his peculiar claims. (Luckily, Clavis knows how to manage a library.)

Clavis' younger son enjoys pranks and experiments, or better yet, doing both at once. Especially if the target is to be his sister (the youngest sibling). He's also taken to picking locks -- preparing ones he cannot open is something of an evolutionary race between him and his father. Ah, those alluring cabinets with chemical reagents! (Clavis has taught him how to pick locks. He caused this.)

That being said, the little lady of the bunch has a frightful foresight (much like her uncle). The pranks never succeed. (Were she not a near-perfect copy of Clavis appearance-wise, they'd likely wonder whether she was truly his daughter.)

Leon

All of his children. All of them. Sneak. Out. And to make matters worse? They split up, so if Leon wants them back at the palace, he needs to independently track down at least three people (the youngest ones usually do not leave their older siblings). Sometimes they also bring friends along! (Clavis' children are the friends.)

Another growing issue-non-issues is that they have made friends in town and now sneak them into the palace. Which, admittedly, is not something Leon is particularly bothered by (assuming he is distracted from the very real possibility of his children being kidnapped, as now everybody knows they are royalty -- nickname change from "Black" to "White" may occur in the next few years). However, the same cannot be said about the visiting nobles.

No matter how much food there was to begin with, none is ever left on the table. His son's have... healthy... appetites.

Both of his daughters are avid readers. However, they tend to get tired easily when reading... so they alternate. They usually pick a book together and read it aloud. (2 pages - change of the reader - 2 pages - change - ... )

Jin

Jin has two children, a daughter and a son. His daughter is an effortless charmer -- pretty like a doll, with infectious laughter and jokes that somehow caught on even when all she could say was "gugu gaga". (...At least Jin laughed?) Meanwhile, his son gets into situations. Shirtless.

That being said, it isn't necessarily wrong for his son to get involved. After all, he always does it to protect one of his cousins or his sister (...or to cover for them, but well, solidarity is appreciated). But why shirtless?

They both fight over lollipops. All. The. Time. And when they don't fight over them, they cry due to having none. They are not going to have unlimited teeth in their life! Good dental habits need to be established early on! (Jin also cries in lollipop rehab. Solidarity!)

Jin may have only two children, but their little family also includes four dogs. His children have an interesting affinity towards finding animals in need of help, both wild and domesticated. (You could say that Jin got roped into running the first -- unofficial -- animal shelter & rescue in the entirety of Rhodolite. He's managed to rehome the majority of the animals brought in... save for those four dogs. He just couldn't say "no" after his children nursed them back to health. He was and still is proud of them for doing that.)

Silvio

His daughter (3 years old) tries to open everything with a kick first. And by everything I mean everything -- a book? Kick! Doll house? Kick! Cabinet door? Kick! Balcony door? First she walks into it and then she kicks.

Silvio's at a loss there. He can't exactly have her wear steal cap boots. (Or... can he?)

To make matters worse, Silvio has made the mistake of taking his older daughter to the docks. She was interested in ships and his work! He wanted to show her! He really had good intentions!

And now she curses like a six years old sailor. Which is to say, poorly and fairly inaccurately, but in large quantities. And she sure is teaching this to her younger sister.

Their favourite game to play is called "Jingle-Jangle", which is a cute term for breaking into their father's closet and turning themselves into an ornate human orchestra. They put on all of Silvio's jewellery and then run through the palace, every so often losing a ring or a necklace, or perhaps both. It creates a convenient trail for Carlo (or Silvo, or Emma -- whoever is first at the scene) to follow... Provided that nobody takes it first. ("Ha?! Papa is so rich he could buy you anything!" were Silvio's famous last words.)

You've seen a typo? Let me know!

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