The sound of it had been almost more than Benvolio could bear.
For hours her sharp cries had echoed through the corridors of
the house, only to be followed every so often by the more terrible gasps of
silence. He sat, his fingernails carving half-moons into the arms of the
chairs, and he paced, his tread wearing a path along the terracotta floor, and
he stared out the window, his eyes focused on the brick rooftops of the city even
though his mind was somewhere else entirely.
Her pains had begun right after breakfast, her hand reaching to the
base of her belly just as she stood up from the table. He had been confused at
first, thinking that the meal had disagreed with her somehow, but then she had
gasped, her face sharply contorted, and she had told him that it was time to
send for the physician. Benvolio sent for the physician, and he sent for the
midwife, too – he would have sent for the Doge of Venice if he had believed it
would have helped his beloved through the trials of her labor.
It was beyond all reason that he could not be with her himself,
offering her what little comfort he could, but he knew he would have been
chased from the room before he could even enter, an interloper in such ancient
and mysterious rites.
The first star had appeared on the eastern horizon when he heard
a different kind of cry, one thinner and higher-pitched, and then his heart had
overflooded within his chest, knowing that he was hearing the voice of his
child, that it lived and drew breath enough to wail lustily.
He waited – in agony and hope – for the physician to appear, and
finally he did, crimson stains still caked under his fingernails.
“Congratulations, my lord,” he said without prelude. “You have a
Benvolio had no idea how much coin was in the purse he handed
over, nor did he care.
By the time he reached their chamber, all evidence that anything
out of the ordinary had happened there had been entirely eradicated, and he was
greeted by a single chambermaid and his wife, who lay in the middle of an
immaculately made bed, her arms wrapped around a bundle she kept clutched to
her breast. She looked as if she had gone through a battle – her hair was loose
and tiredness was etched into her features – yet it had clearly ended in victory,
and she the collector of the spoils.
“Your uncle will be happy,” she said, a wry smile on her lips. “For
now there is an heir.”
“Are you happy?” he
asked, as he gingerly sat on the edge of the bed. He was a little afraid to
touch her – he was afraid to do anything that might upset the delicate
perfection of this moment. Everything lay before them – the future and all of its
possibilities, both good and ill – and this, he now saw, was the point from which it
would all begin.
“I am,” she murmured, her smile turning warm in the candlelight.
She reached out her arms and gently handed him the bundle, and
Benvolio took it awkwardly, looking down for the first time at the face of his
son, an impossibly tiny creature with tawny brown skin and a mop of dark curls.
He was blessed with his mother’s wide eyes, though marked in hazel rather than
mahogany. Benvolio had no words, no lines of poetry or godly hymns, nothing to
give voice to what he felt. There was only joy, and the brush of sorrow,
knowing that his long-buried friends would never have the chance to feel such all-consuming
“What will you call him?” she asked. “Another Benvolio? Or perhaps Damiano?
That might drive your uncle to heights of unimaginable ecstasy, I fear.”
Benvolio glanced up at her, his gaze softly meeting her own. “Niccolo.”
Her face stilled, some unreadable emotion set loose behind her
“My father’s name?”
He nodded, watching as she pressed her lips together, her eyes bright with the threat
of tears. Keeping his arms wrapped tightly around his son, Benvolio shifted so
that he could sit right beside his wife, her body leaning tenderly against his.
She reached out and took their child from him, and Benvolio curled his arms
around them both, his own eyes soon nearly full to overflowing.
“Niccolo Montague,” she whispered, a tiny catch in her voice. “Welcome
Casually drinks coffee while writing KuroMahi smut XD But after seeing that pic of Maid!Mahiru and Kuro [here] I just had to write this
back.” Kuro walked through the door with the groceries Mahiru ordered him to
buy. They would usually go out together so he wondered why Mahiru told him to
go alone. He tried to think of anything he did that could’ve made Mahiru angry
with him. He set down the bags in the kitchen but he
didn’t see Mahiru in the kitchen or living room.
home, Master.” Kuro stopped at the unexpected greeting. He heard their bedroom
door open and Mahiru stepped out. Kuro’s eyes widened when he saw the maid
costume Mahiru was wearing. He couldn’t look away from him as Mahiru stopped in
front of him. “Kuro?”
knew that he must’ve looked silly in the dress and wished that he never decided
to wear the thing. Earlier that week, he was doing Kuro’s laundry and found some rather risqué manga among his dirty clothes. He couldn’t help but worry that
Kuro was becoming unsatisfied with him since it had been a couple days since they last
made love. Then he found the maid costume and thought Kuro wanted him to wear
are you wearing?” Kuro knew he should look away but he couldn’t bring himself
to do so. But how could any man turn away when the person they loved was
standing in front of them and wearing such an outfit?
frilly dress was cut expertly and showed only enough to tempt Kuro to look
beneath the frills. Nervously, Mahiru tightened his hand in his skirt and Kuro
wished that Mahiru didn’t. It only drew attention to the stockings hugging his
legs and Kuro wanted to pull them off with his teeth. Kuro held himself back
because he could see how embarrass Mahiru was.
do you mean ‘what are you wearing’? You’re the reason I’m wearing this silly thing!” Mahiru blushed
heavily. “I found your manga collection and this dress in your laundry! If you
would rather have pictures than your boyfriend, I’ll just take this thing off!”
Kuro took Mahiru’s hand when he started to turn away. He smoothly turned Mahiru
so they were facing each other again. Kuro placed his hands on the kitchen
island and trapped Mahiru in his arms so he couldn’t turn away from him again.
Mahiru placed his hands onto Kuro’s shoulders and looked down at their feet
because he felt so embarrassed.
gently lifted Mahiru’s face. “Hyde gave me those manga as a joke. I never even
opened them. Why would I when I have you? I’m guessing Hyde also left this
costume as a prank.”
what about—” Mahiru whimpered when he felt Kuro’s hand snake under his skirt.
Kuro playfully squeezed his ass before he lifted Mahiru onto the kitchen
island. His voice was hoarse when Kuro pressed kisses down his neck and Mahiru wrapped his legs around Kuro’s hips. “Its
been a while since we… and I thought… oh, Kuro!”
gasped when Kuro roughly pulled the dress off his shoulder and gently bit him. It
wasn’t enough to draw blood but Kuro kissed and licked the mark he left. Kuro couldn’t
stop himself from grinning when he saw Mahiru’s flustered face. He could smell
Mahiru’s blood and it was intoxicating to Kuro.
he promised to never drink Mahiru’s blood so he would have to distract himself
by satisfying another hunger.
someone that goes on and on about ‘thinking simply’, you sure do love to overthink things.” Kuro teased while he untied the apron around his waist. “I
thought you were a little sore and wanted to give you some time to recover. But
if you want—”
was shocked when Mahiru cut him off. He grabbed his hood and pulled Kuro into a
kiss. It was tentative and a little shy but no other kiss could shake Kuro as
much. He pushed Mahiru backwards onto the island and took control of the kiss. When he
felt Kuro’s tongue tease his lips, Mahiru parted his lips slightly.
going to be the death of me.” Kuro groaned against his lips. Mahiru’s response
was to wrap his arms around his neck and kiss Kuro deeper. The kiss made him dizzy and threatened to steal his senses. He wondered if Mahiru knew how much
power he had over him. But Kuro fell under Mahiru’s spell willingly and melted
into the kiss.
more.” Mahiru begged in a small voice and fumbled with the buttons on Kuro’s
jacket. “I want you.”
are dangerous words.” Kuro pulled away from Mahiru and he looked down at him. Mahiru’s
face was flushed and Kuro gently brushed his thumb over Mahiru’s kiss bruised
lips. His hands drifted to Mahiru’s hips and pulled him closer. “I’m not going
to be able to control myself when you’re wearing that dress.”
simply, you don’t need to hold back. I’m yours.” Mahiru’s words broke the last
sliver of control Kuro had.
Hello Cassandra :) My friend recommended me your books just about a month ago and believe me or not I've finished all of them already. I couldn't help myself, but keep reading. I've never believed I would love any fiction books as much as HP, but I do now. And I don't know what to do next 2 months... Now I'd like to ask about Julian, since he is my personal hero and I have no idea how can he handle everything in his life... Will we see some positive or happy moments for him in LoS too?
It’s interesting when I get questions like this, because there are very few characters I write whose lives are unendingly awful. While Julian is under a lot of stress and is experiencing heartbreak, he’s also a person with a lot of resilience. You don’t get to be where he’s at without being strong. Julian’s siblings aren’t just a heavy responsibility, they’re also a source of great joy for him. Julian’s relationship with Emma is in flux, but it’s also still important to him. Even now, there are moments of happiness shared between them.
And don’t forget, Julian is a schemer. He actually really enjoys his scheming. Maybe a little too much. ; )
Well, my sourcessay that it was actually Aaron’s pregnancy test, and that’s the big twist, and that Robron have made a beautiful little baby who’s gonna be born on Christmas Day, and (according to my sources) it’s a boy! He’s gonna be born with dark hair that’s gonna grow curly and scruffy like his Dad’s, but then he’s gonna have really cute freckles too and hazel eyes like his other Dad.
It’ll all be revealed in the pub on Maxine Alderton’s eps. Everyone’s a bit horrified to begin with, because *science* but, they soon come to accept it (because, durr, it’ a soap - there’s no rules). Rebecca is so super jealous that she immediately flees the village for good, taking her fake pregnancy bump with her, and Robert and Aaron wave her off with a salute of their middle fingers.
But keep it quiet, yeah, because it’s super confidential info right now.
here are some brushes that i’ve been using for my most recent doodle, as motivation to start working on commissions again. i’ve come up with two oil pastel brushes after messing around a little bit, and i thought that they looked good enough to the point where i couldn’t keep them to myself !
to find the brush texture + brush shape seen here, you’ll have to download the brush pack, and the start sai file. ( you’ll have to right click the start-sai file and select ‘run as administrator’ for these brush textures + shapes to open in paint tool sai ! )