#the more maids the merrier

[herstoriies]

Who needs the marvel multiverse when Thera, Madeleine/JVJ, Javert, & Pris all exist in the same universe 😎

@therapardalis @reverdies

[danikamariewrites]

Sick Days

Eris x reader

A/n: ik I just did a Helion one but I thought of this before the request. But the more the merrier I say

Warnings: none

Trudging down the hall the cool Autumn air nips at your legs as your bathrobe billows around you. You woke up this morning with a killer headache, runny nose, and the chills. You didn’t feel like staying in your room so you found yourself heading to Eris’ chambers.

As you walk in through the open door you spot Alanna, one of the maids, through half closed eyes. Busy folding Eris’ clothes. You liked Alanna, she was an older Fae, and she was always around to help. She was no nonsense and never held back from being blunt with anyone.

“Hi Alanna,” you get out through a yawn, “have you made Eris’s bed yet?” “Good morning to you as well Lady y/n. I was just about to. Once I finish with the princelings' clothes, why?” A few steps away you launch yourself onto Eris’ large, unmade bed.

Rolling over onto his side of the bed you pull the rumpled blankets up over your head, leaving a small opening so you could breathe. Alanna lets out a frustrated sigh. The old female pulls the covers off you but you just lay there. Eyes shut, basking in Eris’ scent. “I must make the bed, get up, child.”

You groan, “I’m sick Alanna, have some sympathy.” “Go be sick in your bed, not the princes’.” She snaps back at you. You crack your eyes open, putting on a pout. “Eris doesn’t mind.” She knows you're not budging.

“Have you taken anything for your cold, child?” You shake your head no. Letting out another sigh Alanna shuffles across the room putting Eris’ clothes in his large oak dresser. “I’ll get you medicine and some food.” As she leaves you yell your thanks, coming out weak and scratchy thanks to your sore throat.

You go in and out of sleep for what feels like hours. Alanna should be back by now. As you force yourself into a sitting position the door opens.

You see his long, fiery hair first. As his broad frame fills into the room his beautiful russet eyes lock with your eyes. His cheeks look a little burnt, he must’ve been training in the sun this morning. He smiles, “Morning my love.” As he strides over to you, you lay back down on the mountain of pillows behind you.

You notice he’s holding a plate of eggs and bacon and a small vile. He hands it to you, “I ran into Alanna in the kitchen. She was complaining that you were in here. So I thought I’d come check on you.” You bury your head in his chest. “Thank you baby.”

Eris flops back, pulling you with him. He plants kisses all over your head and face. “Can I get you anything else, my love?” You tilt your head up to him, “Will you stay with me? Oh and can I stay here all day?” You giggle.

Eris pretends to think for a minute. “I guess you can.” You snuggle into him, closing your eyes drifting back to sleep.

tags: @nyotamalfoy @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane

[notyour-valentine]

Dragon's Blood II ~ Aemond Targaryen x Rhaenyras!daughter

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All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Summary: Once in King's Landing, she has a score to settle with Prince Aegon and Aemond has a toast to make( ~ 1x09)

Note: Loosely connected to this moonboard of mine. There will be a Part IV

Warning: sword fighting, mention of blood and injuries, smut, mention of war and death. Expect canon conforming tone and language. (18/21+)

Wordcount: 5539 words

Part I ~ Part II ~ Part III ~ Part IV

Part II

Previously

She did not share Jace’s or Luke’s memory from those bygone days and so she did not join them as they ran around the courtyard in excitement, retracing the sights of their old adventures.

Instead, her eyes were focussed on something else, or rather someone else. At least, until the sun darkened when his tall frame let shadow fall over her. 

“Where’s Syraxes?”, he asked as he leaned against the wall beside her. 

He smelled of sweat and leather, and a little bit of dragon. It was a scent she was all too familiar with.

“We came on ships.”, she explained, unable to hide her disapproval. 

Her confession made his eyebrow rise. 

“Preparing for your wifely duties?”, Aemond wanted to know. 

That again, she thought as she fought the desire to roll her eyes. 

“Daemon is still negotiating.”

“For which price to whore you out?”, he asked under his breath. 

If he had meant it to sting, he shouldn’t have struck with a dulled blade. 

“The fate of a Princess.”, she retorted. It was hardly anything new to her, nor was she oblivious to the duty her position required.

His hand found her waist as she tried to move away, holding her back. 

“There is an armoury room,”, he mused, his lips coming dangerously close to her ear. “It’s deserted this time of day.”

She hummed softly before turning to meet his piercing gaze. 

“I’m afraid, it will remain that way a little while longer.”

With that, she twisted out of his arm and reached for a practice sword, swishing it through the air to check the balance and weight. 

“You want to spar?”, Aemond asked curiously, crossing his arms over his chest. "Here?"

“Oh indeed.”, she said with a smirk, taking a few steps back before turning her back to him, pointing her sword at someone else. 

“Uncle!”, she called out to Aegon, who had only just arrived, offering her brightest smile. 

“Would you do me the honour?”

Usually the laughter from the men at arms, the knights and squires would have set her blood to boil but now it only ever made her smirk.

The more, the merrier. After all, why put on a show if there was no one to watch?

“You?”, Aegon asked, laughing squires at his back. 

“What are you doing?”, Aemond hissed. 

She let him hold her practice blade as she reached into her pocket to fish out a ribbon to toe her hair back. 

“Funny thing, Aemond.”, she told him, “one of your serving girls asked my mother’s maid if they have to fear Prince Jacaerys the same way they have to fear Prince Aegon.”

She turned to face him to be able to see his every reaction. 

He gave her nothing. No confusion. No surprise.

So she knew all she had to know. 

Tasting venom on her tongue, she nodded before taking the sword from him and facing Aegon with the sweetest of smiles. 

He had been joking with his men, she knew, and strode towards her with nothing but confidence, looking her up and down. 

“You want me to teach you about swordplay?”, he asked, “Well, who could say no to that? I am an expert in that regard."

More laughter rang out, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Jace flush with anger. 

Don’t worry, she thought, we’ll be the ones laughing soon. 

He took his own practice sword and positioned himself. 

“The key,”, he began, explaining loudly, “is not to give away when you will strike.”

The emphasis he put on his hip as well as how low he held his sword made a mockery of the practice yard, earning roaring laughter from his men.

“Like this?”, she asked, leaping towards him. 

He brought his blade up just in time to deflect her strike to his shoulder, but the unanticipated force sent him stumbling back. 

This time, she let him catch his balance. 

“You are a good teacher, Uncle.”, she mused as she stepped back, smiling. “Why don’t you attack? I hear you’re quite good at it.”

His lip twitched as he tried to strike. 

She blocked it with ease, ducked away and struck the back of his leg, forcing him to take a knee. 

Lucerys’ laughter rang out through the yard, cutting through the stunned silence. 

She had her back turned to Aegon, but in the shiny armour of Ser Harrold she could see his every movement, and even the flashing anger in his eyes. 

He ran at her, sword in hand, while Jace cried out to warn her. Now it was her that took a knee, making him strike air. Since he had passed her, it was all to easy for the flat of her blade to crack over his backside, making him crash to the floor. 

Lucerys howled, while the rest of the courtyard was reduced to shocked gasps and murmurs. 

Aegon scrambled back up again and charged. She jumped away and grabbed his arm, twisting it and pushing him away. 

Even more enraged, he came at her again, she blocked, parried and struck, her sword cracking against his hip with such force the onlookers groaned in sympathetic suffering. 

His face was as red as his backside promised to be as he charged at her again,, but an angry fighter was never a good one. 

Three more strikes did she block while she made sure to strike his hips and thighs at any given chance. Which was every chance. 

Aemond really hadn't lied when he told her he was a poor swordsman.

Another blow sent him to the ground again, as she, after a clinch, rammed her elbow into him and pushed him off with ease. 

“Enough!”, a voice cut through the yard. 

She saw Ser Criston Cole soldiering towards her, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her back. 

“I had thought you had a master at arms on Dragonstone, not a racketeer who never heard of honour to teach you the art of fighting!”, he snarled, his face mere inches from hers. 

His grip tightened until he cut off her blood flow, but she only ever met his gaze. 

“They teach fighting. In battle, there is little art to it. You ought to know that, Ser Criston.”

From the corner of her eye, she could see her brother’s bemused faces. 

The knight looked down at her with nothing but blatant disgust.

“It is unseemly for a woman to spar!”, he snarled. 

“I am not just a woman, Ser.”, she reminded him with the sweetest smile as she reached out to pluck a piece of dust from his beard. “I am a dragon. Those measly rules don’t apply to me.”

His fingers closed around her wrist as if her mere touch burned him and brought it down with such force, she feared he might break it. 

“Oh they do, girl!”, he snarled through clenched teeth. “And I will make you will subject yourself to them!”

The disrespect made her laugh in shock. 

“Ah you will make me?”, she hissed. “Would you like to try at where your Princeling had failed?”

“A woman has no place on the sparring yard.”, he snarled and pushed her away. 

Oh I’ll show you your place.

She was twisting her wrist to free itself from the pain as she closed her fingers around the practice sword a second time. 

Only this time another, gentler hand closed around hers. 

“Don’t.”, Jacaerys whispered. “He’s not worth it.”

Lucerys ran at them with wide, sparkling eyes. 

“You destroyed him!”, he insisted. “How did you know to do that?”

“Yes, how?”, Jace asked, suspicion in his eyes. 

“Practice.”, she said, making a point of not searching for Aemond who had watched their every move.

“As much as I enjoyed that, now we will look like fools compared to you.”, Luke said with a sigh.

“Aegon won’t be able to pick up another sword today. I wonder if he will even be able to sit. And Aemond won’t spar you.”, she insisted. “Train with Ser Harrold.”

She sent them off with a slight shove and put her own practice sword down.��

“Won’t I?”, mused a word from the shadows. 

“No you won’t.”, she said sharply, earning an amused hum.

“Aemond, they are just boys.”

“Jacaerys is your elder.”, he reminded her. 

“They can't match you with the blade.”, she said. "You know that."

"And you knew Aegon was no match for you and yet you sought to humiliate him in turn."

She huffed as she met his gaze, wondering if it was a hint of anger or a flash of pride she saw in it.

"He deserved it."

~

There was something soothing about watching the steam rise from the bathtub.

The maids had warned her that it might be too hot, but what was mere heat for a dragon like her? 

Either her bath water had to be scalding or icy cold like the salty sea on the shores of Dragonstone. 

And so she had asked the serving girls to keep preparing hot water. By the time they had carried it to her rooms to add to her bath in intervals to prevent a drop in heat. 

So it was no surprise when she heard the door open and close again. 

Only then, she didn’t hear any further steps and so she turned, water splashing as she moved. 

Aemond was leaning against the door, a slight smirk on his lips as his gaze travelled from her surprised face to her chest. 

Rolling her eyes she settled back down again, letting the water come up to her collarbone. 

“You’re not supposed to be here.”, she remarked dryly. 

“Well you are in my home.”, he argued.

She could hear his heels drop to the cold ground one by one as he made his way over to her. 

“If they saw you, you’d cause a scandal.”, she sneered, but she knew he wouldn’t care about that, so she added a little extra just to rile him up. “What would your poor mother think? And your darling High Septon? Since you’ve practically turned this place into a sept, would fucking me here make it even more sinful than it already is?”

He hummed as he sat down on the edge of the tub, letting his hand trail through the water. 

“No one saw me.”, he simply said, not giving her the anger she wanted. “There are a thousand secret passageways in the Red Keep.”

“Thank Aegon.”, she mused, and the hundreds of architects, workmen and builders whom he fed to Balerion once they were done. 

She leaned forward and inhaled, smelling soap and clean clothes. 

“You’ve already bathed.”, she remarked. 

“Would you rather I come to you reeking of the sparring yard?”, he asked. 

She didn’t respond directly, but he still smirked.

“You could have joined me. In warm water for once.”

Aemond hummed the way only he could hum, as he began to undo his buttons. 

She bit her lip to keep herself from smiling. 

Occupied with her own thoughts, she took her eyes off him (and because she didn’t want him getting too full of himself) and so was caught unaware when he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her forward until she crashed into his leg, but he only ever dragged her up further until her lips were inches from his. 

It left her startled and breathless and she had to clutch his thigh for support as not to fall. 

“I should cut it all off.”, he sneered almost angrily. 

His breath was as hot on her lips as the steam of the water was, but she was focussed on the fire in his gaze. 

“I’ll cut it off before I let some grubby Essosi fingers touch it.”

It made her laugh and although his grip still kept her head in place, she traced her fingers up the inside of his thigh. 

“Do that,”, she warned him under her breath, “and I will cut something off that won’t grow back.”

He inhaled sharply as she began to stroke him through his trousers, knowing they were growing tighter by the second. 

His grip on her hair loosened slightly and she moved down in the tub, resting her head against his knee while her hand kept moving up and down on the wrong side of his trousers. 

“Besides,”, she mused, batting her eyelashes at him. “No one would miss it more than you.”

He'd pull it, clutch it, bury his face in it, wrap it around his hand and hold her close, only to then brush it out and braid it for her with more patience than she ever had.

With that, she moved away, leaning against the back of the tub feeling pleased at the sight of her handiwork. 

Aemond inhaled sharply, as if weighing his options. 

His pride or her body. 

He gave her a glare as if she had insulted him and stood, but his hands moved to the laces of his trousers and she knew she had won. 

~

Aemond had made her so late that her hair was still wet by the time they had dressed her, in a black gown bejewelled with rubies to match those decorating her hair. 

She looked beautiful, yes, like a proper princess, or a prized cow, both at court and at dinner. 

By now, King Viserys had become a stranger to her, but when he smiled at her, she smiled back. She loved him for her mother’s sake. 

But nothing made her smile more than seeing Aegon’s limp. 

Jace proved every bit the King he would one day become as he responded with nothing but courtesy, to them, and then when Aegon thought to bother Baela, a far better man when he asked Helaena to dance. 

Aegon drank and drank, unable to lift his gaze, while Aemond watched them like a hawk. 

“I know a place from where you’d get an even closer look at my brother.”, she teased, making him glare at her. 

“Or are you too afraid we’ll embarrass you in this kind of spar too?”, she asked, nodding to Aegon. 

Without another word, he got up, pushing his chair back with a screech as he grabbed her hand. 

“If you want something,”, he hissed into her ear as they took their positions not far away from Jace and Helaena, “ask!”

But where would be the fun in that?, she thought.

The song they played, a  four-step, which meant that it could be danced by two couples as well as one. It was Helaena that initiated it. They stood across from each other, moving to one side, then the other, a step forward, two steps back. 

Then it was time for the men to release them as Helaena and her met in the centre, their palms touching as they circled around each other. 

She was beaming from ear to ear, as her skirts swirled with their turn for the other direction.With that, they returned to their respective partners, stopping in front of them.

“She seems to enjoy herself.”, she told Aemond. 

“She likes to dance.”, was the only reply she got as their hands touched in the space between them. 

“So here we are.”, she mused as he spun her under his arm before dropping his hands to her waist and lifting her up at the same time Jace lifted Helaena. “Us two, the only spinsters.”

He glanced down at her. 

“Until you are sold off.”, he snarled. 

“For the high price of a fleet and prosperous trade. I can live with that.”, she insisted. Either she’d marry Jace, or she’d be married off for the security of Jace’s kingdom. 

“Dragons are worth more than ships.”, he reminded her as they swayed from side to side again. 

“But worth more than peace?”, she asked, so close she could smell him, his rough, calloused hand holding her own and his lips - Suddenly her throat felt thick and she glanced down. “Let’s not talk of things we cannot change.”

“You’re not married yet.”, he reminded her as his hands went to her waist once more. 

“Do you plan on stealing me away?”, she asked just as she took her place at his side, ready to approach Jace and Helaena once more. 

“Can’t steal something that already belongs to you.”, he argued, not minding that they were so close both of their siblings could hear. 

Her answer had to wait until they stepped back once more.

“I don’t belong to you. Or anyone, but if it were up to me-”

“Uncle!”

Lucerys voice cut through the music as he stood, his eyes locked on Aemond. 

“They’ve brought something for you.”

She followed his pointed finger to the tray that had just been brought in and her heart sank. 

“Aemond!”, she hissed under her breath but he left her standing as he strode towards the desk. 

His eyes meeting Luke’s, he seemed to consider for a moment, before taking his goblet in his hand, but when he spoke up, his voice was calm. 

Yet she knew better than to trust it. 

“A final tribute-”, he said, his gaze locked on Luke. “To my nephews.”

The music stopped completely to let him speak, as he made sure to look at each in turn.”

“Jace, Luke and Joffrey - each of them handsome, wise…”

He lingered, as they all held their breaths, as if he savoured the taste. 

“Strong.”

“Aemond!”, his mother hissed, but she inhaled sharply, feeling her hands clench into fists but he ignored them both. 

“Let us drain our cups,”, he announced loudly, “to these three Strong boys!”

Aegon was only too eager to lift his, but her head snapped around as she heard Jace’s voice crack like a whip.

“I dare you to say that again!”, he demanded, squaring up to Aemond without a trace of fear or intimidation in his eyes. 

“Why? Twas only a compliment!”, the taller man insisted with a smirk.

How she wanted to strike it right off his face. 

“Do you not consider yourself Strong?”

Jace beat her too it, his fist colliding with his jaw and snapping his head around. She was already halfway there when out of the corner of her eye she saw Aegon grab Luke by the back of the neck and slam his face into the table.

In the blink of an eye, she felt a fistful of his icy blond hair in her grasp and tore him away, spinning him around and burying her knee in his stomach.

“Pick on someone your own size!”, she snarled at him as he groaned in pain, more than happy to continue what she had begun in the sparring yard. 

“Enough!”, she heard someone cry as she saw Jace fall back, Aemond towering over him, his goblet still in hand. 

His mother grabbed his sleeve. 

“Why would you say that? In front of these people?”, she insisted. 

In front of me.

She missed the first part of his response as Daemon grabbed her by the back of the dress like a cat picking up an unruly kitten, pulling her before the guards could. 

He pushed her away from Aegon without much effort, shoving her in the space between Luce and Jace. 

“Although my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs!”, Aemond finished, making Jace’s cheeks flush in anger as he was ready to lunge at him once more. 

“Ah!”, Daemon said, his finger raised, stopping him before he could reach Aemong. 

He was first staring at Jace, then her, and finally Luke.

They understood but he made sure, staring them down until they had all taken a step back, his finger still raised before he turned. 

“Go to your quarters!”, her mother ordered, “all of you! Now.”

She looked to Jace, who only began to turn when Rhaena, holding Baela’s arm in one hand and Joff’s hand in the other. 

Her still waited at the door, seeing first the girls and Joff out, the Luke, who glared over his shoulder and finally her. 

She could feel his silent rage, burning to match her own. 

They shared that, the anger, the desire to fight, to fight him if need be.

But he did not share her betrayal. 

There were yet marks on her body he had made, the grip on her hips, the mark of his kisses. And now the sweet sting of passion felt like bite marks from a venomous snake and it was from them, that she could feel the poison seeping into her with every step. 

It made her want to scream, to claw at them, to cut every memory from him out of her mind and body, to burn it away with Syraxes’ fire or to drown it in the Narrow Sea. 

Fire, blood and the salty water would wash her clean of him. 

And yet her anger was drowned in her pain, in the piercing ache she felt in her chest with every breath she took.

Jace's hand found the small of her back as he inhaled sharply.

"And to think Mother was considering to give you to him.", he whispered, his voice so low only she could hear.

~

Jace, Luke and her had received a scolding from their mother until their ears rang. 

Today of all days. 

It was to make peace. Why did you have to fight? 

But it was disappointment more than anger. 

They should have stood above it, their ambivalence would have made him look the fool and now they had given him just what he wanted. 

If only her mother knew the truth of the words she had spoken. 

In her mind, they were both toying with each other in equal measure, but what if she had been dancing to his tune along? What if she was lost on this path he had led her on?

You gave him just what he wanted. 

She had done so, over and over again. Here, on Dragonstone, on their little island. 

So her defeat was a heavier to carry as she made her way back to her bedroom, sending away the serving girls and staring into the darkness of the room, illuminated only by a crackling fire. 

The girls hadn’t gotten to lighting the candles yet. 

For how long she just stood there, she did not know, but she spun as soon as she sensed movement from the darkness, pulling out the dagger that was hidden in her sleeve.

“You can put the blade away.”, said the last voice she wanted to hear. “It’s only me.”

“Only reason to keep it drawn!”, she snarled. “Get out!”

He stepped out from the darkness, his hands at his sides and said her name as if he hoped it were a spell he could enchant her with.

“I said get out!”

“I know you’re angry-”

She grabbed one of those idiotic seven pointed candle sticks and flung it at him with full force, candle and all. 

He ducked and it crashed to the floor behind him and Aemond turned to see whether it had shattered or not.

So he barely saw the second candlestick coming in time. 

Cursing under his breath, he crossed the distance between them and grabbed her wrist before she could hurl a third in his direction.

Pushing her up against the wall, he twisted both candle and knife from her hands, kicking them away, as he said her name once more. 

“Get out!”, she snarled, trying to kick him, but he stood so close she couldn’t gather momentum. 

“I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

She turned her head away until her cheek was pressed to the cold stone to be away from him. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”, he admitted, taking a step back.

She almost laughed at him.

“You knew exactly what you were doing!”, she snapped, using her newly reached freedom of movement to slap him. 

He let her.

But once his head was facing her again, he seemed unmoved. 

“Lucerys -”

“Lucerys is a boy!”, she snapped, not letting him finish. “It has been years, Aemond. Let it go!”

He always had such a keen memory when it came to that joke, except the fact that it had been his own brother who had had the idea. 

Aemond scoffed and shook his head. 

“You always take his side.”, he spat as if stating a crime she had committed. 

“Of course I do. He is my brother. My little brother!”

She could see his jaw muscles working in silent rage and shook her head in disbelief. 

How could he ask for loyalty now? After what he had done? After Aegon had attacked him? A man twice his size?

“One minute you wish to steal me away from marriage, the next you call me a bastard-”

His hand grabbed her arm, stopping her pacing. 

“I didn’t call anyone anything!”, he reminded her, as if a technicality would absolve him. 

She faced him headon, glaring at him with nothing but rage and disgust in her eyes and her voice trembled with suppressed anger. 

“If they are bastards,”, she hissed through clenched teeth, “So am I.”

Aemond swallowed hard as he weighed his words. Still, he refused to relent.

“You are not a thief.”, he argued. 

“A thief?”, she demanded to know, his words only ever stoking her rage. “And pray tell, how are Jacaerys and Lucerys thieves? They are my mother’s sons!”

“They aren’t trueborn!”, Aemond argued. “You know it too, I know you do!”

She had bit back a chuckle while he had acted so prim and proper at the dinner, praying, but it wasn’t funny anymore. 

Someone must’ve had a better aim with those stupid seven-pointed star candleholders than I did. 

“They won’t inherit the Iron Throne because of Laenor Velaryon.”, she reminded him. “They inherit it because of my mother. Your future Queen!”

Aemond chuckled, shaking his head and making her want to strike him.

Mocking her brothers and now insulting her mother?

She felt like she would explode with rage, when she heard the door handle click. 

Giving Aemond a shove, half in the hope that he would fall, hit his head or break his arm, she rushed towards the door before it could fully open. 

She imagined the guards, some servants, her mother, Daemon or Jace - but it was neither and so she fell to her knees.

 “Aegon!”, she gasped, all traces of anger disappearing as she saw the tears on his cheeks. 

“Sweetling, what’s wrong?”

He was in his nightclothes, clutching the blanket in his hand. 

Instead of responding, he buried his face in her lap and sobbed. 

“Oh my love!”, she whispered as she reached for him and lifted him up, her hand on the back of his head as she began to walk back and forth with him in her arms, as his tears began to soak her dress. 

With one glance, she made sure that Aemond was hidden from view, before sitting down on the edge of her bed and placing him in her lap. 

He only ever let go of her reluctantly and she began to wipe his tears away as his fingers grabbed her dress for good measure. 

“What happened?”, she asked. 

His lip began to tremble. 

“I couldn’t find anyone.”, he whimpered, unable to meet her eyes. “You were all gone! All of you!”

With that, he flung himself at her again, his head hitting her chest at full force. 

“Sweetling, we were at the feast. You know that.”

“You were gone!”, he insisted. “I was looking for you and you were gone. You were all gone and you left me alone!”

She held him until his sobs had turned to hiccups and whimpers before trying to meet his eyes again. 

“Come now, Aegon!”, she asked softly, “look at me now.”

He tried to avoid her eyes and so she lifted him off her lap and crouched down in front of him, looking up at his violent eyes as she cupped his face. 

“It’s alright.”, she assured him, her thumb stroking over his damp face. 

“It’s not.”, he argued. “I want to go home.”

“We’re going home!”, she promised. “

“Now?”

There was such hope in his voice, it hurt her to shatter it. 

“Not now, no. But tomorrow. Just one more sleep.”

He sniffled before laying down on the blanket. 

“Can I stay with you?”

She smiled softly as she ran her hand over his hair. So soft. So pale.

“You can’t.”, she said softly. “I’ll take you back to your nursery.”

“I don’t like it there! The walls…they are wrong. They’re scary.”, he confessed. 

For a moment she considered, but then she lifted him up in her arms. 

“I know, Aegon.”, she promised. “And that’s alright. Everyone is scared sometimes.”

“Everyone?”

She nodded.

“But you can be brave too, can’t you? My little dragon.”

That made his lip twitch into the hint of a smile. 

“And besides, you’ve got Viserys with you. Even you are a bit scared, you two can be brave together.”

She leaned her forehead against his.

“I promise.”

“I’ll be braver with you!”, Aegon argued, his hand clinging to her dress once more. 

She kissed the top of his head as she opened the door once more, carrying him back to the nursery.

It was nearly half an hour before he was settled, only falling asleep after she had sung him a Valyrian hymn, and she returned to her chambers.

Aemond was sitting just where she had placed Aegon to sooth him. 

“You’re good with him.”, he said softly. 

“He is my little brother.”, she said, too exhausted to fight.

Nothing was as draining as watching her little brother’s sorrow. 

“Yes, I know.”, he said defeat in his voice.

 He stretched out his hand and lifted his eyes, both violet and blue, in a silent plea as he stretched out his hand.

“I’m sorry.”, he said. 

She hesitated for three heartbeats before swallowing hard and crossing the room. 

Leaving his hand where it hung, she stopped to stand right between his legs and cupped his face, letting her thumb brush over the scar on his cheek. 

“Do you want to hear the truth, Aemond?”, she asked, though why she did not know. 

Perhaps the hour was too late or too early, perhaps Aegon’s tears had softened her resolve, perhaps the blow he had dealt her at dinner made her bleed out to the point of delusion. 

Perhaps she was just too tired or perhaps this game they played had gotten too complicated for her. 

Perhaps she was ready to end it, even if it meant losing. 

He looked almost frightened.

“If there is a choice, or even the hope of a choice, I would always choose you.”, she confessed, letting her thumb trace down to his lips.

Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena would hate her for saying that, and she could only guess what her mother and Daemon would think. 

His hand found her waist as he leaned his head against her chest, holding her tight. 

She allowed him, and let her hand find the back of his head as it had found Aegon’s earlier, stroking over it.

It would have been easy to stay like that, to hold him and let him hold her, to melt into his arms, his embrace, his body, to have his lips coax away the pain they had dealt her earlier. 

No, she reminded herself, not just her, but Jace and Luke and Joff, and her mother too. 

“But when it comes to my brothers, there is no choice.”

End

~

Part III

Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear what you think!

Tagging a few people who I think might be interested in the sequel:

@sanzyfavbitch @luthientinu @unnamedm @janelongxox @crazylokonugget @sarcasticsweetlara @anditsmywholeheart @tinydramatist @sleepy0nez @words-way-of-life @redpool @c-chann

[mizu-chin]

Yes My Lord "The Masquerade Ball"

*English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes*

The Trancy mansion was enveloped in an atmosphere of luxury and mystery, the lights of the grand hall shimmering through crystal chandeliers, creating a stunning scene. Masked guests paraded through the hall, their laughter and conversations mingling with the music that filled the air. Alois Trancy's invitation had been irresistible, and now the mansion was filled with masked figures in elaborate costumes.

You, dressed as a Victorian Gothic vampire, stood out immediately. Your black dress with fine lace and blood-red details, along with the ruby necklace adorning your neck, contrasted with your long wavy hair. Your eyes, accentuated with dark makeup, shone with an intensity that did not go unnoticed. Beside you, Ciel Phantomhive, in an elegant pirate costume, maintained his usual expression of seriousness and suspicion, while Sebastian, dressed as a Renaissance nobleman, remained vigilant and alert.

Ciel observed the crowd with a critical eye. "Sebastian, make sure there are no unpleasant surprises tonight."

Sebastian inclined his head in agreement. "As you wish, my young master."

As the trio walked through the hall, Alois Trancy, dressed extravagantly as always, approached them. His eyes gleamed with a mix of malice and curiosity as he noticed you beside Ciel.

"Ciel, what a pleasure to see you here!" exclaimed Alois, his voice laden with false joy. "And who is this charming lady by your side?"

Ciel responded coldly. "This is Y/n, a trusted ally."

Alois's eyes swept over you, and he smiled seductively. "Y/n, what a pleasure to meet you. I hope you are enjoying the party."

You responded politely but with a tone of suspicion. "The party is... interesting, Lord Trancy."

Alois laughed, but his eyes betrayed a flash of envy at the closeness between you and Ciel. "I hope you find something that entertains you, Y/n. Perhaps a dance?"

Before you could respond, the music changed to a softer, more mysterious melody, and the guests began to scatter, forming pairs to dance. Alois seized the opportunity to take Ciel's hand.

"Come, Ciel, I have something special to show you in the forest," said Alois, his voice soft but insistent.

Ciel hesitated, but curiosity and the need to uncover Alois's true motives made him follow. You noticed Ciel's discomfort and decided to accompany them.

"I'll go with you, Ciel," you said firmly.

Alois tried to disguise his frustration, but his eyes showed a flicker of disapproval. "Of course, Y/n. The more, the merrier."

They followed Alois into the darkness of the forest, where the air was colder and the atmosphere charged with tension. Amidst the trees, Alois stopped and turned, revealing he was wearing the clothes of Hannah, the demonic maid.

"Surprise, Ciel," said Alois, his voice full of malice.

Ciel frowned, feeling the tension rise. "What do you want, Alois?"

Before Alois could respond, you positioned yourself protectively in front of Ciel, your eyes fixed on Alois. "What is your game, Alois?"

Alois laughed, but there was bitterness in his laugh. "Game? It's not a game, Y/n. It's just a way to show Ciel something he still doesn't understand."

Alois's envy intensified as he saw how you protected Ciel, like a maternal figure he never had. He hated the bond they had, the trust and affection Ciel felt for you.

"Do you think you can protect Ciel from everything, Y/n?" asked Alois, his voice dripping with disdain. "You don't understand what's at stake here."

You kept your gaze steady. "Maybe I don't understand everything, Alois. But I know enough to protect Ciel from you."

Sebastian, who had been watching closely, felt the tension rise. He knew Alois was not someone to be underestimated and that Hannah's presence complicated matters further.

"Alois," intervened Sebastian, his voice calm but firm. "What exactly do you intend to achieve with this?"

Alois looked at Sebastian, his twisted smile. "Oh, Sebastian, you know very well. It's all a game of power and control. And now, Ciel, it's your turn to decide."

Ciel, feeling the pressure, looked at you, who gave him an encouraging look. "Ciel, do what you think is right. I'm here to support you."

With renewed confidence from your presence, Ciel faced Alois with determination. "I won't play your game, Alois. I have more important things to do than to toy with your manipulations."

Alois, frustrated, took a step back, realizing his attempt to destabilize Ciel had failed. "Very well, Ciel. But remember, this is far from over."

As Alois withdrew, still dressed as Hannah, Ciel felt a mix of relief and the tension that still lingered in the air. He looked at you, his expression softening.

"Thank you, Y/n," he said, his voice gentler. "You always know how to be in the right place at the right time."

You smiled, gently placing a hand on Ciel's shoulder. "I'll always be here for you, Ciel. Let's return to the party. There's still much for us to do."

Sebastian observed the interaction, feeling a mix of relief and a new feeling he was still trying to understand. The bond between you and Ciel was strong, and he knew that together, they could face any challenge that came their way.

As they returned to the Trancy mansion, the party continued, but the tension of the night had revealed much about the bonds and loyalties between them. And so, with renewed determination, they were ready to face whatever came next, united by the trust and affection they shared.

[justwritedreams]

omg maari i have a (super petty!😭🤣🙈) requesttttttt some time into the relationship, or when the opportunity arises, would you have the princess question jeno as to why he kissed the maid that one time? (and so passionately too!! 😤) i wanna see the jealous side of the princess 😍😍🤍🤍🤍🤍 it's like i don't care, but i also care at the same time? sgsjsj she'd wonder if he just kisses random people when he feels like it. jeno better persuade my girl with good reasons!!! 😤😤🙈🙈🙈 otherwise...he'd need to have so many ways to make up for her hehe (i think he'd think it's cute of her to ask stuff like this haha)

and omgggg have!! we!! talked about their honeymoon at all before? would!! they!! have!! a!! honeymoon?? where!! would!! it!! be!!!! ♡♡ ahhhhhh im dyinggggg what if jeno says he wants a honeymoon baby sujwjsksksoaksksjsjsjsn 😍😍🙈🙈💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

how many kids would these two want? who'd be the "the more the merrier" type? 😆😆😆💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

Ooooh 😏 I still hadn't thought of a way to relive this memory but you gave me an idea! A little spoiler: in the next chapters there will be some jealous scenes 👀 We didn't!!! And hell yeah, they will have a honeymoon. It will be a place that the two of them will not be able to escape each other's presence for long 🤭 He's going to be such a tease with her when this topic appears 🤣🤣 Jeno it's definitely this type 🤣🤣🤣 I mean they're young so they have time to have a ton of babies. The princess would want two, she's the only heir and child so she wouldn't want that to her children. But something tells me that she's going to change her mind in the future 😏

[legends-of-time]

The Journey of Living at Downton

Chapter 31: June 1922

Masterlist

"Are you sure?" Emma asks Rose as the two convene in the Drawing room, knowing no one will be in there at the moment.

"I thought you of all people would like the idea!" Rose huffs.

Emma rolls her eyes. "I do like the idea and I'd say bollocks to the lot of them, but are you sure about it? You know how the family are. They're not always as open as you think."

Rose had dragged Emma further into her plans for Robert's birthday. It's soon clear that Rose plans on using the band that Mr Ross was a part of as the surprise. Emma hadn't realised that there had been contact between the two and worries about the mistreatment the singer will receive from the family because of their unconscious racism.

"But isn't this a part of the inclusivity you always talk of?" Rose argues.

Emma sighs and rubs her head. "Yes... and I suppose everyone will enjoy it. It's not like they'll want to make a scene if they don't."

Rose grins. "Exactly. I'll contact Mr Ross and organise it."

"Remember, we need to inform Cora about this, well, sort of tell her."

Rose nods eagerly.

Emma squints her eyes at Rose suspiciously. "There isn't another reason why you are so eager to do this?"

Rose's eyes widen and she shakes her head a bit too quickly. "No! I just think it'll be a nice surprise for Cousin Robert."

"Hmm. Mary tells me that Mr Napier and his boss Mr Blake are coming next week, they'll be here for Robert's party." Emma warns.

Rose shrugs with a grin. "More the merrier!"

"I think they may be more interested in the pigs and Mary in Mr Napier's case." Emma remarks with a grin.

Rose nods. "Yes, Tamworth's. We had them at Duneagle. Daddy swears by them."

"It's a new thing for us." Emma says. "Tom's been a bit restless with waiting for their arrival. We haven't done much with pigs before."

"Not disrupting anything else?" Rose remarks with a grin.

Emma lets out a fake scandalised gasp before creasing over with laughter.

——

Tom tells Emma a couple of days later that Harold, Cora's brother, has apparently come into difficulty in his business. Emma is curious as to why Harold has written to Robert of all people about it though.

Emma and Rose knock on the door and open it to find Cora in an armchair, reading a book.

"Cousin Cora?" Rose greets her as she closes the door behind them.

"I think you can call me Cora now." The Countess says with a smile.

Emma huffs out a slight laugh. "She wouldn't dare with Robert."

"She must dare with me." Cora remarks. "How can I help?"

Rose and Emma sit down opposite her.

"I... we wanted to tell you that we've settled the surprise. For his birthday." Rose tells her.

"Since you won't tell me what it is, I don't know what to say." Cora comments. "But I'm assuming everything is alright if Emma is involved so, good?"

Emma feels a rush of warmth from how much Cora seems to trust her.

"Well, if you're alright with it. Is it okay if we let Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson know since they'll be the ones that has to deal with it?" Emma asks. "It's only on the day. And it's only till after dinner."

It's at that moment that Baxter walks in, taking away the breakfast tray. Emma watches her as she walks past. She wonders what the lady's maid's history is with Thomas. The woman seems nice enough but Emma hasn't really had the chance to get to know her.

"I suppose so."

——

Emma and Rose soon find themselves in Mrs Hughes' Sitting room.

"A band?!" Mrs Hughes exclaims in surprise.

Rose and Emma look at each other in alarm at how loud Mrs Hughes is being.

"Shh! No one must know." Rose whispers. She closes the door furtively.

"We'll get the carpets rolled up and everything arranged during dinner. So that when His Lordship walks out of the Dining room, there it is." Emma eagerly explains.

"And we're to hide them until then?" Mrs Hughes questions.

Rose lets out an exasperated huff. "Oh, 'hide' them? You just have to keep them with you. His lordship won't come down here, will he?"

"He doesn't. Downstairs is a foreign land to him." Emma remarks. This lifts a slight smile onto Mrs Hughes' face.

"So, I have to find them food and beds. How many are there?" Mrs Hughes asks, slightly disgruntled.

"Six, I think. But I'll check." Rose replies

"And Her Ladyship knows about it?"

Emma presses her lips together, highlighting her discomfort. "Well, um, she doesn't know it's a band, but she does know there's a surprise that you're helping us with. We just want it to be a surprise for her too."

"Very well. I'll see what I can do." Mrs Hughes tells them though Emma can see she's not entirely convinced.

"Thank you." Rose says gratefully.

They walk out together, and Mrs Hughes sees them up the stairs.

——

Emma walks into the Outer Hall to find Edith by the telephone, trying to hold back tears.

Emma walks up to her in alarm. "Edith. What happened? What's the matter?"

"Michael's vanished into thin air. Nobody's heard from him, no one can reach him." Edith replies shakily.

This was what Emma was afraid of. She can't think that now and mustn't worry Edith until they are sure something has happened. "I'm sure it's just a failure of communication. If anything had happened, we'd've heard."

"Maybe." Edith says unsurely. "I just wish to God he'd pick up the telephone."

"He will. Come on." She holds her hand out to Edith. "We must ought to do the important ritual of getting changed for dinner." She remarks sarcastically.

Edith smiles slightly at the comment as they walk towards the stairs, hand in hand.

——

They all assemble in the Drawing room after dinner with the exclusion of Robert attended by Mr Carson and Alfred.

Robert enters.

"You're back." Cora says from the settee she sits on with Rose and Emma. Tom, Mary, Edith and Billy sit scattered about on the other chairs. "I thought you must've missed the last train."

"No. But I only just caught it." Her husband replies as he walks into the room.

"Do you want some dinner?"

"I ate in the restaurant car." He leans down to kiss his wife.

"You weren't very long in London." Edith comments. Emma is happy to see she's perked up a little though she won't be okay until they know what's happened to Michael.

"There wasn't much to do. Just sign some papers for a trust that Billy Sheffield set up for his son." Robert explains as he takes place in front of the fireplace

"What will that entail?" Billy queries.

"Mainly telling the boy to drink less and be nicer to his mother."

"We learned at dinner that Alfred's leaving. He's got a place on the Ritz cookery course after all." Cora tells him.

"He'll be a bit behind but he can catch up." Emma adds.

"Ah?"

"I'm sorry to cut and run, M'lord." Alfred apologises.

"Don't worry about that. We're proud of you." Cora says sincerely.

"You must return one day as a famous chef." Mary remarks.

"Now you're back, M'lord, there's something I wanted to say." Alfred declares. "I've been well treated in this house, and I want you all to know that I'm very grateful."

"Thank you, Alfred." Cora says.

"Mr Carson has been a kind—" Alfred swallows, overcome with emotion, "—and wonderful teacher."

Emma feels genuinely touched and she can see everyone else is overcome by Alfred's words.

"Much more and we shall all burst into tears." Robert comments.

"I'm sorry, M'lord. Come along, Alfred. Let's get back to work." Mr Carson instructs but he is very touched, too. They start clearing away the drinks.

Robert addresses them, "How's my birthday dinner coming on?"

Rose and Emma share an alarmed look before the former says, "How do you know about the dinner?"

"The Coldhursts rang yesterday and said they'd love to come." Robert explains as he takes his drink that Mr Carson offers.

"Weren't we all sworn to secrecy?" Billy questions.

Emma huffs. "Some people just can't keep a secret."

"I don't mind." Robert reassures them. "It won't spoil it if it's not a surprise. Not for me."

"There may still be a surprise." Rose tells him.

"So, I should hope!"

——

The next day, Emma makes her goodbyes to Alfred. The boy had been nice as far as she could gather from brief interactions but most of her knowledge of him comes from Gemma who's been whinging on about the square between Alfred, Ivy, Daisy and Jimmy. Emma is glad that she isn't downstairs anymore and hadn't have to experience it. Maybe Alfred going will sort things.

Emma also hears from Anna that she and Mr Bates are going out on a date to the Netherby Hotel, which Emma is happy to hear.

That evening, they all, minus Cora, who's also at the Netherby Hotel, but for a committee meeting, come walking out from dinner. Emma notices Mr Carson approaching Edith with an envelope on his salver. She pauses as the others walk ahead.

"I do apologise, M'lady. But this came in the evening post and it appears to have been overlooked." Mr Carson tells her

"Not to worry." Edith reassures him as she quickly slits it open and reads the letter. Mr Carson moves on.

Emma watches as Edith's face morphs into panic and shock. Emma swears she sees her eyes welling up.

"Edith, what's the matter? Is it Michael?" Emma questions, startling Edith who hurriedly looks up and attempts to school her features.

"No. Not at all. Just more dead leads." Edith folds up the letter and quickly walks past her.

Emma frowns. "If you're sure..."

Edith pauses. "I am. We mustn't keep the others waiting." She quickly enters the Drawing room before Emma can say anymore.

——

Emma finally gets a chance to talk to Edith on her own when she finds her alone by the fire on the pouffe in the Library, crying. Emma immediately comes to her side and sits down next to her.

"Edith? Hey, what's the matter?" Emma questions, gripping her hand and looking at her earnestly.

Edith sniffles. "It's nothing."

"We both know that's not the case." Emma says. "Was it the letter? It was about Michael, wasn't it?"

"In a way."

"Perhaps you should get your father involved? Send someone over there?" Emma suggests. It hurts to see Edith so upset.

Edith shakes her head. "No. His office has already done that. There's a detective in Munich now, working with the German Police."

Munich... A significant place that changed the Nazi party's tactics. Emma knows Hitler hasn't led the 1923 coup yet but that doesn't mean he's not lurking. Emma hopes his brown shirts have nothing to do with this.

"Then you just have to be patient." Emma says instead.

"I want to know what's happened. If he's... trapped somewhere, or falsely imprisoned. Or even dead." Her voice catches on the last word. Emma looks at her alarmed. "I mean it. If the worst's happened, I want to know. It's just so impossible to plan in this... fog."

Emma gently squeezes her hand. "Well, I'm sure he's not dead." She hopes anyway. The fact that it's been some months since he was last heard from, but she can't share her doubts

Edith sees right through her. "No, you aren't. Because none of us can be."

——

Mr Napier and Mr Blake soon arrive and are being greeted by Cora, Emma and Mary in the Great Hall.

"It's so kind of you all to have us." Mr Napier says, turning pointedly to his boss. "Isn't it, Charles?"

"It is." Mr Blake replies. Emma can't help but feel that he'd rather be somewhere else.

"We're anxious to do our bit." Mary says pleasantly.

"What do you mean by that?" Mr Blake questions. Oh, dear.

"Well, you're here to advise the landowners on how to get through this crisis, aren't you? To save the estates that need saving." Mary replies. Emma is now feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"I'm afraid Evelyn may have given you the wrong impression." Emma is not liking what seems to be a judgemental attitude behind the mask of Mr Charles Blake.

"In what way?" Mary questions.

"The government is aware that up and down the country, great estates are being sold in large numbers." Mr Blake explains.

"Precisely."

"North Yorkshire has a lot of these estates, big and small. And many are in difficulty. We will have every variety of problem to study." Mr Blake continues.

"And you're here to help."

"Not quite. We're here to analyse the situation and ask whether our society is shifting fundamentally. Will it affect food production, and so on?" Mr Blake finishes.

Emma admits that he does have a point but it'll make an enemy out of Mary. She decides to cut into what is clearly brewing to be a sparing match. "So, it's not about how the owners feel, but the food supply?" She asks.

"If that's how you want to put it..." Mr Blake replies.

"I'm afraid that owners will not enjoy that, may see it as mean-spirited," Emma warns. Out of the corner of her eye, Emma sees Edith and Rose walk up to them and greet Mr Napier, who seems quite relieved about it.

"Mr Lloyd George is more concerned with feeding the population than rescuing the aristocracy. That doesn't seem mean-spirited to me." Mr Blake quips.

Emma can't help but feel a bit annoyed herself with his blasé attitude.

Mr Napier is quick to butt in, "I'm afraid you may find us disappointing guests, if you want us to stay up till two in the morning being witty."

"Don't worry. I don't expect Mr Blake to be witty." Mary snarks.

Mr Blake gives her a look that says 'challenge accepted'.

Robert arrives and shakes hands with Mr Blake before moving to Mr Napier. "How long will you be with us?"

"Until the job is done and we can write a report. If you'll have us." Mr Blake replies.

"You must be sure to get rid of us when we become a nuisance." Mr Napier adds.

"The gong is rung at seven, and we meet in the drawing room at eight." Cora tells them. "You know it's Robert's birthday?"

"So, you must try to be witty tonight, Mr Blake. After that, we'll lower our expectations." Mary quips.

By the look on his face, Mr Blake has definitely accepted the challenge. Emma can't help but think this is moderately similar to how Mary and Matthew's relationship began.

"The girls will show you up." Cora says.

——

Emma and Rose enter the Servants' Hall to see that they are having their tea, served by Ivy and Daisy and Emma is pleasantly surprised to see Mr Molesley as they walk to the doorway. Everyone gets to their feet as they enter. Emma still finds it very strange when they do that.

"Lady Rose, Mrs Branson! Can I help?" Mr Carson questions.

"Oh, please, don't let us disturb you. But Lady Rose and I wanted to make a speech. Mrs Hughes may have told you—" Emma begins to say. She consciously decides to keep the titles and be formal about those upstairs so as not to throw Mr Carson's nose further out of joint than they will be doing anyway.

"I haven't yet." The housekeeper interrupts. Emma is amused by the disgruntled look on Mr Carson's face.

"Well, we should tell them now," Emma says. She tries not to show her anxiousness and nerves as she turns to address the rest of the servants. "As a treat for His Lordship, a London band is coming to play after dinner."

"A London band? That's the berries." Jimmy comments.

"From a nightclub called The Lotus." Rose adds.

"A nightclub? Really?" Daisy asks excitedly.

"But it must be a complete surprise." Emma warns them. "No one knows anything. And they mustn't. That is, Her Ladyship knows that something's going to happen, but even she doesn't know what."

"And you think she'll be pleased?" Mr Carson asks doubtfully.

"She'll be thrilled." Rose insists.

"We'll look after your secret." Jimmy promises. Emma is thankful for it but she still doesn't know how she really feels about the footman.

"So, until then, if you can just make them comfortable. I know musicians are outside your daily round." Rose adds.

"Don't worry about that, M'lady. We can take it in our stride. We may be Yorkshiremen, but we do know a little of life in the city." Mr Carson says with a smile. Emma internally winces, she somehow doubts that a bit.

A male voice can be heard. It's Jack Ross, the band's singer. "Hello? Uh... is anyone there?" He comes walking confidently into the Servants' Hall. "I think this is where we're supposed to be."

Mr Carson is so struck by his appearance that he knocks over his teacup. There's a shocked silence. Emma frowns at disappointment to see even Mrs Hughes and Thomas are being a bit funny about it.

Rose, determined to save the situation, smiles at Jack. "Welcome to Downton." She and Jack shake hands.

——

Emma and Tom walk to the Nursery before dinner so that they can feed the children along with Billy and Mary. Emma knows they're already there before her, but as she reaches the door, she hears Isobel's voice and what she says gives her pause and she turns to Tom to shush him.

"When I got engaged, I was so in love with Reginald I felt sick. I was sick with love. Literally." She laughs a little. "It seems so odd to think about it now. It really does."

"It was the same for me." Billy murmurs. "As if I'd gone mad, or been hypnotised, or something. For days. Weeks. All I could think about was her."

"And me. I was standing outside in the snow, and I didn't have a coat. But I wasn't cold, because all I kept thinking was, he's going to propose, he's going to propose!" Mary reminisces.

Emma and Tom turn to each other and smile softly, thinking of their own engagement. Emma has happy memories but she always can't help but feel guilty about how she had left him hanging for so long.

"Well. Aren't we the lucky ones?" Isobel remarks.

Emma can't help but feel guilty that, unlike Isobel, Mary and Billy, she still has Tom, and that she has what they have lost.

She decides she and Tom have heard enough. The three in there turn to them as Emma says, "Isobel, are you here to join us in the chaos of feeding time?"

"I thought I might." Isobel says with a smile.

The door opens, and the nannies come in with George and Michael in their arms and leading Ivy and Sybbie by their hands.

"Oh! Look who's here!"

"Hello!" Isobel greets them.

"Come here, Sybbie." Billy gathers up his daughter.

"Daddy!" Ivy squeals as Tom picks her up while Emma scoops Michael into her arms.

——

A large dinner party has been assembled for Robert's birthday with Mr Carson, Thomas, Jimmy and Mr Molesley attending them, the latter being a pleasant surprise. While Emma usually hates them, the guests are seemingly alright so far. Thankfully she's at the end of the table with Mary, Edith, Rose and a couple of gentlemen while Tom is next to Mr Napier and Cora and Billy are sitting with Isobel. What's worrying is that Mary is sitting next to Charles Blake.

"But I can't help feeling sorry for the poor pigs." Mary says.

"Do you eat bacon?" Mr Blake asks.

"Yes."

"Sausages?"

There's a layer of irritation underlining Mary's features. "Yes."

"Then you are a sentimentalist who cannot face the truth." Mr Blake remarks.

Mary rolls her eyes at him. "I'm not often called sentimental."

Emma huffs a quiet laugh and quickly takes a sip of her wine to hide her amusement. Her smile dims when she sees the unhappy look on Mr Napier's face. Seems to have realised that he has, yet again, brought a man to this house whom Mary infinitely prefers to him.

"Carson," Emma hears Robert call to the butler, who's assisting with clearing away the plates, "you don't mind if we go on calling Molesley Molesley, do you?"

"Of course not, M'lord." He clearly does, but he doesn't say a word.

"I'm catching the ladies' eye." Cora says after a short while. Everyone rises to give the ladies the chance to withdraw.

Rose and Emma share a look of alarm and the former quickly stands, protesting, "Oh, no!"

"Rose?" Cora questions in surprise.

"No. We're not splitting tonight. We're all going out together!" Rose then darts out of the room.

"What on earth is she talking about?" Edith wonders.

The dinner party are still on their feet, clueless while Emma waits amusedly.

Rose comes rushing back in as the music starts up. "Happy birthday, Cousin Robert!"

Robert laughs. "I say!"

——

The dinner party enter the Hall to find a band has been set up and the carpet has been rolled up. Rose is pulling Robert out into the Hall by his hand. Jack Ross is singing 'I'm just wild about Harry'. Robert is willing enough at first, but he stops dead when he sees it's a black singer. His family and guests come walking out after him, looking on uncertainly. Rose, however, has already found another dance partner.

"Who is this singer? And how did he get here? Isn't it rather odd?" Edith questions causing Emma to frown.

Robert snaps out of his stupor. "No, I think it's fun." He and Cora start to dance, too.

"Don't be disappointing, Edith." Emma warns. She moves on to dance with Billy as Isobel has snatched Tom away – they're absolutely enjoying themselves. More and more couples join the dance floor.

Emma and Billy soon begin discussing her and Tom's plans to move to America.

"Maybe I should follow what you and Tom are doing, making a new start elsewhere." Billy remarks.

"You don't think you will make a life here? That you have one?" Emma questions.

Billy gives her a pointed look. "Don't you?"

Emma shrugs, fair point. "Maybe. But I know Tom doesn't feel like he's one of them and I want him to be happy."

"That's what I always wanted for Sybil. That's gone now." Billy murmurs sadly.

Emma gives him a sympathetic look. "Perhaps not forever. You might find someone one day."

"Would there be another earl's daughter who'd be keen to take me on, do you think?" Tom remarks doubtfully.

"Well, I don't know. It would depend on her." Emma admits.

"No. She wouldn't." Billy corrects. "There aren't many as free as my Sybil."

"Well, I agree with that." Emma concedes. "Maybe Tom can introduce you to one of his cousins?"

"Not sure an Irish working girl will make everyone comfy." Billy remarks and Emma chuckles at that.

The song soon ends, and everyone claps.

——

Emma is dancing with Tom now. The band are playing a slower instrumental number now.

"Isobel said something interesting earlier." Tom remarks as they brush past Mr Napier and Violet dancing.

Emma looks up at her husband questioningly. "Oh?"

"How this, the band, shows how things can happen at Downton that no one imagined even a few years ago."

"She's got a point, I suppose." Emma ponders for a moment. "There's so much development here that was definitely not the case when I first came here."

"Yes. She says we should listen to that before giving up being here entirely." Tom adds.

"Do you think we should?" Emma questions as they move around Mary and Robert.

Tom lets out a quiet hum before replying, "Maybe, for now."

——

A/N: Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

[kindtobechurlish]

How much was the whole outfit, John? Ha.

Are you dumb? Now, he has to maintain his weight, and the more the merrier. He is an ACTOR. Anyone could send a letter, and it’s his chance. “Lincoln is going to the show?”

Hell yea, YOU WANTON, go and get a husband, and be a courtesan for Confederates. The ICON wants his balls sucked, the martyr made means. You get it? John Booth has a seat for you. You can’t stay very long, you have a husband and he wants dinner. Idiot fools. You thought you were gangster? Check out who you support. You wanna play old maid? You can pull that card. HELL YEA. John Booth has a seat for you wantons, and you can’t stay very long, your husband wants dinner. 🤭

You like scarfs?

[crimsonkenjii-writes]

Not a request but we need males in Maid outfits and bunny outfits! Maid outfit supremacy! Maid outfits are for any gender!

Yes, the more the merrier. All the maid outfits heheheh 😈

[maidoftheday]

Hello, fellow maid lovers! Today, Maid of the Day officially turns 6 months old! I honestly can’t believe I have been running this little blog for this long! So to mark this anniversary, I present to everyone Maid of the Day's Top Ten Maids (based on number of notes):

10. Yui Hirasawa from K-On! 9. G36 from Girls’ Frontline 8. Agent from Girls’ Frontline / Macrophage from Cells at Work! 7. Shouko Komi from Komi-san wa Komyushou Desu 6. Chifuyu Orimura from Infinite Stratos 5. Marie Rose from Dead or Alive 4. Becky from Persona 5 3. Rin Kujou from To LOVE-Ru 2. Saber from Carnival Phantasm 1. Tohru from Kobayashi-san Chi no Maid Dragon

And as an added bonus, because they exist on this blog too, Maid of the Day's Top Butler is Vishnal from Rune Factory 4.

Anyway, thanks for all your support and I hope I can continue to serve all your maid needs well into the future!

[softcherubhips]

F • R • I • E • N • D • S (with benefits):

pilot 1x1 - "The One with The Manny, The French Maid and The Boss"

Intro written by the lovely C. @cgg3913

[A chaotic AU where Harry is a white wine socialite housewife and part time model, Louis is still a millionaire, chart-topping musician, Niall is their Manny, Liam’s their hot-beyond-all-reason personal trainer and Zayn is a model/photographer and full time slutty little nightmare person!]

When he was fifteen, Harry Styles had fallen hopelessly and madly in love. And truth be told, he had never fully recovered. It didn’t matter that Louis was two years older and in no way interested in being “out” while still in school.

When Louis had turned 18, he went to audition for X-Factor. And he made it through, which had meant moving to the judges’ houses and leaving Harry behind. They’d then grown up separately, Harry graduating and moving to London to pursue his now shockingly successful modeling career. Louis had gone on to be immensely famous and Harry would see him on TMZ and in tabloids, rubbing elbows with female underwear models he knew from work and actresses and singers, always playing the role of the prolific womanizer and yet - somehow - the private and sensitive songwriter who didn’t like to discuss his private life.

Louis had just turned twenty-one when the bombshell dropped; he was a father. Harry could remember physically feeling his heart break as he read the headlines.

A girl from Scotland had been killed in a car crash, beautiful and tall with curly hair so brown it was almost black. Stunning with green eyes. And she had left behind a two year old son, whose birth certificate touted famous British musician Louis Tomlinson as his father.

According to the tabloids, he’d had no idea. They’d dated for a bit before he even officially won X-Factor, her role having simply been a girl working in the wardrobe department. In high school, Louis had always been defiant in his insistence that he was not gay. Perhaps, Harry thought upon seeing the photos of Louis suddenly out and about with his brand new toddler, this was true. The child, named Deacon, looked just like Louis.

Shimmering blue eyes, a mischievous little smile and perpetually unkempt brown hair sticking in every direction. It had to be his kid. Maybe Harry was just a phase, a teenage experiment.

It wasn’t until some industry party six years ago, when Harry had watched as his fellow supermodel and part time photographer, Zayn, had waltzed past with a famous Donny singer on his arm, that Harry had seen Louis again for the first time in forever. He was here. Based on his behavior with Zayn, he definitely wasn’t straight. And yet, he left the party with Harry and the two had never looked back.

Time had passed so quickly: dating, moving in together with Louis’s son, getting engaged, having Harry’s daughter via the world’s most amazing surrogate - and their wedding.

Their fifth anniversary coincided with their daughter Toby’s birth, the husbands having received the news that their surrogate was in labor while furiously making out in they newlywed limo.

She’d been born six weeks early, the new husbands exchanging their opulent honeymoon suite, champagne and room service for NICU visits and consultations with doctors and nurses. But she was five now and perfectly fine - Harry’s immaculate October Moonbeam Tomlinson - or, as Louis preferred, Toby Luna. Named after the moment they’d discovered their surrogate was officially “pregnant.” Harry and Louis intoxicated in their Halloween costumes, crying and waking up their four-year-old son to tell him he was going to be a big brother and having family ice cream in the kitchen at midnight. Their skylight sending streams of moonlight into the room, solidifying everything.

And since then, everything had been almost perfect, even now as Harry slid into a bath, mentally preparing for tomorrow. He would be dropping Toby off at his mother’s house for a week-long stay, coinciding with Deacon’s second trip to summer camp. After Anne’s week was up, Toby would stay with Jay for a week as well before returning back to the husbands.

They would have two weeks of kid-free debauchery once the sun went down tomorrow - and Harry couldn’t wait.

[craftycheetah]

𝓑𝓵𝓪𝔃𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 2

prev next

CW: femdom, slight subby baku, kissing, smut, size diff

Taglist: @pharaohanubis0

The castle was bustling, maids and butlers rushing around preparing for the party, your younger siblings arguing and chasing each other playfully.

Izuku and Katsuki sit off to the side in the courtyard to watch what seems like a regular routine. The smaller man sighs dreamily when Eijirou picks up Tana in his big hand and lets her perch on his shoulder so she can see what’s going on.

“Just ask him already,” Katsuki sighs.

“No! What if he doesn’t like me and he’s just being friendly?”

“Ugh, you’re an idiot.” Katsuki rolls his eyes and looks in the other direction, where you’re with some of your younger brothers. Haco shows you a toy he’s been tinkering with, and you squat to his level to listen, nodding along as he rambles. Izuku’s eyes follow his gaze before turning to him with a grin. 

“You like her, don’t you Kacchan?” He doesn’t respond, staring as you pick up Blaze and smooching his chubby cheeks as he giggles and pats your face. Now all the younger boys are demanding hugs from you too. Katsuki’s mind wanders back to that image of you pregnant with twins with fiery red eyes and red and blonde hair, once again making his cheeks turn a baby pink.

“You do!~” Izuku sings, kicking his feet.

“Shut up, Deku,” he grumbles, knowing it’s true.

The party is in full swing by sunset. The people shuffle in, bringing gifts for the expecting Queen, congratulating her. Big families are encouraged in the Firebeard tribe, so the more, the merrier.

Some women and men are fascinated by Izuku and Katsuki. Touching their hair and clothes.

“So small,” a woman with long red twists giggles and pets Izuku’s head. “His hair is very strange.”

“But very fluffy,” a man agrees.

Eijirou comes to their rescue, playfully shooing the people away. “You guys are a big hit.”

“They’re treating us like pets,” Katsuki grumbles.

“They're just interested in the differences. They've never seen people like you two before. I’m sure if we came to your island we’d be treated the same.”

“I like your outfit,” Izuku compliments Eijirou’s green wrap around his waist and legs and the gold bands around his thick biceps.

“Thanks.” He flexes, and Izuku nearly faints.

Katsuki looks around. “Where’s y/n?”

As if on cue, you jump onto Eijirou’s back, clinging to him. “Sneak attack!”

“Oh noooo, you got me,” he says sarcastically. You climb off and greet your guests. “Heyyyy, you guys look nice.”

“You too!” Izuku smiles at your long red skirt and matching wrap. You’ve even put gold rings in your locs.

“I hope so. I’m trying to have a good night~.”

You and Eijirou high-five at the inside joke.

Before Katsuki can comment, a horn bellows, and everyone hushes. Ira stands in front of the throne with his wives and the younger children, his long beard decorated with a few ribbons from the triplets. Hestia is the only one wearing red, and the other two wearing green and gold.

“Welcome everyone! I’m happy to see you all. We’re celebrating my lovely wife’s pregnancy, my whole family, and my people.”

They cheer at his words.

“Let’s all have a great time then!” He grins, holding his goblet up as a toast.

“Whoo!” You and Eijirou cheer when the live band starts up a song.

Shula runs up to Eijirou. “Bibo, come play with us.” He bends down so she can hold his hand. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

You spot Nuria and her mother talking to Hestia and grab Katsuki’s arm. “Let’s go talk to her.”

“Why the hell do I have to go?!”

“Because I want you and my future wife to get along!”

“…what?!”

“Something wrong, Katsuki? Don’t tell me you think something’s wrong with that?”

“No! I just—I didn’t—”

“Nuria!” You let him go to hug her and her mother. “How’s it going?”

“Going good. Congratulations to your mom.”

“Thank you. Mrs. Azarnoosh.”

The older woman bows her head. “Hello Princess. Let me go give your mother her gift.”

“Nuria, you remember Katsuki from yesterday.”

“Yep, what’s up?”

Katsuki is too busy dealing with the current heartbreak to be nice. “I didn’t know you were gay,” he says.

You and Nuria look at each other. “Gay? I’m not gay,” you giggle.

“But…but you said future wife.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m gay. I like everyone! Men, women, everything in between.”

“Me too,” Nuria adds. “Damn, don’t you have those where you’re from?”

“No, we do! I…nevermind. It's nice to meet you, Nuria.”

“Yeah, you too,” she snickers. “How’s Mina?”

“She’s good, getting really big though. She's half the size of the castle now.”

“Wow!” Nuria looks at Katsuki’s irritated and sulking face. “I think someone’s jealous.”

You pat his head. “He’s fine. Right, Katsuki?”

“Whatever.”

“I’ve cracked his code. That means yes.”

He smacks your hand away. “I’m going to find my mother.”

You and Nuria watch him walk off, disappearing amongst the people.

“Hm, I’m gonna fuck the shit out of him,” you smile.

“Don’t break him.”

“I won’t cause then I won’t get to ruin you both. We should get drinks.”

Katsuki pouts the whole time, weaving through the tall people. He runs into Tyson and Hagan, who immediately snatch him up.

“You’re Bisa’s new boyfriend!” Tyson smiles.

“Are you gonna marry her?” Hagan gasps. Both of them hold his arms. Even though they’re younger, they’re the same height as him, and he’s a little nervous.

“Then you’ll have to marry Nuria too, though.”

“He can marry them both like how Papa married Ma and Mom!”

“Alright you two, leave the poor boy alone.” Ira interrupts, shooing them both away. “Go find your sisters before they get into the booze.”

They run off, leaving Katsuki behind.

“Bago!” Blaze points from Ira's arm.

“Hey.”

“Bago? Oh, he gave you a nickname. That's adorable. You look upset, young prince. Are you alright?”

“I’m not. That’s just my face.”

“Is it about my daughter and Nuria?”

Katsuki looked at the man, slightly amazed by his intuition, before turning away. “...no.”

“Sure. It's quite obvious that you have feelings for my daughter. But how would you feel if she wants another?”

“I’m not sure. My people are monogamous so it’s never crossed my mind.”

“It's good to keep an open mind, my boy. Spend time with them both. I'm sure you'll get along quite nicely.”

Both of them look towards the drink table where you’re holding a large crystal bowl full of punch. “I’ll drink this whole thing right now!”

“You’re not gonna do it,” Agni chuckles. “Sack of coins says you fail.”

“Add in three makeovers from the triplets and I'll take you on!”

“Deal!”

You lift the bowl, bring it to your mouth and tip it, gulping the punch down.

“Go go go!” Agni and Nuria chant.

Finishing the bowl, you slam it on the table and wipe your lips with a large grin. “Woo!”

“Shit, she actually did it!” Agni laughs.

“Pay up.” You hold your hand out. Agni huffs and drops the pouch attached to her skirt in your hand. “So unfair.”

“Congratulations, sweetie!” Ira calls, and you give him a thumbs up. “I’m sure the two of you can work something out,” he tells Katsuki with a gentle head pat.

The triplets come up to him and pull his robes. “Papa, come dance with us by the bonfire!”

“How can I say no to that? Lead the way.”

Blaze starts to fuss, pointing at Katsuki. “Wa Bago.”

“Hm?” Ira hums. “It seems he wants to stay with you, here you go.” He hands him to Katsuki and follows the girls outside.

“Bago!” Blaze squeals, hugging Katsuki’s neck.

Katsuki looks at the infant and chuckles as he babbles happily, occasionally patting his face. “Okay, brat, if you're gonna stay here, you’re gonna have to behave and not pull my hair. Also, don't hit me.”

“Bago peby.”

Katsuki stares at him, wondering what that could mean. He shrugs, playfully ruffles his coils, and then goes back to looking for his parents.

Later into the night, everyone goes outside to gather around the huge bonfire. Ira sits between Hestia and Ember, putting his arms around both of them so they can cuddle. The youngest girls sit in his lap, giggling and nibbling on meat kebabs. Eijirou and Izuku sit together, Izuku’s head on Eijirou’s shoulder as he drapes his arm over him. You sit with Nuria, mugs in your hands filled with diluted Flame Punch. Katsuki sits next to you, putting Blaze in his lap.

“Hiii Blaze!” You giggle, slightly tipsy, tickling his chin. “Katsuki, you have to try the punch.” You give him the mug. Katsuki reluctantly sips it, humming at the taste. “Good shit.”

“You should try it raw but my Ma said I’m cut off for tonight.”

“You are kinda drunk….”

“Not drunk yet, believe me. Not a party until Eijirou has to carry me back to my room,” you giggle.

The elder shaman shushes everyone, the bells on her staff tinkling.

“It’s starting!” Stella squeals.

The elder raises her hands, and everyone quiets down. “Welcome everyone to the Fire Festival, and congratulations to the royal family.”

Ira kisses Hestia's cheek.

“Welcome to our guests, as well. You’re the first outsiders to ever partake in the festival. As per tradition, we will now begin to tell the story of the founding of our homeland.”

The drummers start a steady beat.

“I love this story!” Eijirou smiles.

“Eons ago!” She starts. “The Great Fire Spirit Oaris helped create the earth and all the islands in it with the other great spirits. Oaris used his hands to form the first ever humans from fresh clay and red hot embers for the hair, giving us all our fiery spirits.” She tosses some herbs into the fire, flaring up and sending sparks into the air.

Blaze claps his hands, gurgling happily.

“You like that, you little arsonist?” Katsuki chuckles, tickling his stomach.

“Shh, she's not finished!” Udia hisses next to him.

The shaman walks around in a circle, pointing her staff at everyone. “Oaris blessed our people with strength, intelligence, the abundance of crops and animals, fertility, and honor. Symbolized by our distinct hair.” She touches Stella’s curls, and she giggles. “Our skin reminds us of the rich earth used many years ago. The royal family and the king himself are direct descendants of Oaris, ruling with wisdom, fairness, and kind hearts. For that, we thank them.”

Ira toasts his drink to her.

“Many more blessings for the royal family!”

The people cheer loudly, toasting their drinks.

“Onto the celebration!”

The music picks back up, and festivities continue. You stand up, wobble a little and go to your parents. “Dad, dance with me!”

Ira grins and stands, handing his drink to Ember before taking your hand. Eijirou also stands, holding both his hands out for his mothers. “My ladies?”

“Such a gentleman,” Hestia chuckles as she takes one.

“Thank you, son,” Ember chuckles, putting Ira’s drink on the ground beside her chair so she can follow her son.

Katsuki watches you and Ira do the traditional dance. Holding hands and dancing around the fire and other people. Ira separates from you to join his wives, laughing joyously and holding them close.

Blaze bounces happily, clapping his hands to the music. Katsuki lets him go so he can waddle up to you and Eijirou, babbling about being picked up.

As a hand pats his calf, Eijirou smiles and bends down to pick up Blaze, gently bouncing him.

“Come here you two!” You grab Hagan and Egan in headlocks. “I love you guys!”

“We love you too,” Egan wheezes but smiles.

“But we can't breathe, Bisa….” Hagan adds.

“Sorry,” you laugh and let them go, continuing to dance.

A tap on your shoulder pulls your attention. Turning around, you see Katsuki with his hand outstretched to you, cheeks colored fuschia.

Mitsuki’s eyes look around the fire, and she grins widely as she sees you giggle and take Katsuki's hand. He looks ridiculous considering the height difference but happy.

Katsuki yelps softly as you pull him closer. “Let’s go! Just follow my lead.”

He watches your footwork, copying it as best as he can until he gets the hang of it.

“Now we switch,” you tell him.

“Switch?” You let go of his hand, and he’s spun into Ember’s arm.

“Hello there,” she smiles, holding his hand.

“Hello, Your Highness,” he mumbles.

Dancing with her, he ends up going through most of your family before ending up back in your arms as the music stops and the people cheer.

“That was fun!” You clap.

“Yeah, it was. What happens now?” 

You hum, circling him and grabbing his arm. “Come on, let’s go to my room.”

‘Her room?! She can't be serious!’ he thinks as you drag him back inside the castle.

*

Of course, your room is massive. The floor-to-ceiling window leads toward a balcony overlooking the land with a perfect ocean view.

The red and gold theme is evident in your bed sheets and curtains.

He doesn’t get the chance to admire it when you waste no time scooping your hands under his armpits, picking him up, and pinning him against the door. “Mm, you’re kinda small, but I like a challenge.”

Katsuki looked down at you for the first time since he's landed on the island, his feet dangling as you held him. His cheeks slightly burned as they turned pink once again. “...okay.”

Pulling him close, you press your lips against Katsuki’s. Katsuki's legs wrap around your waist once you finally move your hands to his waist.

‘Holy shit, I can't believe this is happening. Never thought I'd be bottoming though. It's weird.’

Katsuki's pulled away from his thoughts when he feels your teeth trail along his jugular before biting down, causing a groan to escape his lips.

“Fuck!” he grunts, arms wrapping around your shoulders. He tugs at your hair as you nip and suck more love bites along the column of his neck. You lick a trail up to his ear, nipping the sensitive spot behind the lobe. “You keep claiming you’re not small, let’s see if that applies where it counts.”

Katsuki died and went to the heavens.

You carry him to your bed, gently laying him down and pulling his clothes off, starting with his silk shirt and moving to his trousers.

“Wait, wait,” he mumbles.

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

He puffs out his cheeks, looking down as they turn red. “Take off your clothes first.”

You back up off the bed and stand, unwrapping your top first. Katsuki’s eyes fixate on your chest, licking his lips. Then your skirt and underwear come off, revealing the red ‘happy trail’ leading to curly red pubes.

You put your hands on your hips, proud of your body. “Happy now?”

He nods, and you lean back over him, tugging his trousers down and tossing them to the floor. He oddly feels overexposed when you tug the top of his undershorts down, and his dick falls out, already hard.

“Ah,” you smile, “Not bad.”

Your arms wrap underneath his thighs and pull him closer to your mouth so you can suck on the leaking tip. Katsuki grips your silk sheets, back arching.

His fingers sink into your locs, slowly pushing you further down, hissing softly as you take all of him with no resistance. 

“Oh, fuck,” he hisses.

Katsuki's hand slips from your hair, thumb stroking behind your ear as his palm finds its place on the back of your neck. Your fingers dig into his muscular thighs, spreading them open more so you can get closer. Katsuki recognizes the position. He’s used it before when he’s had his head between other women's legs, but being on the receiving end has his stomach tightening and the pressure building between his legs building faster.

Bobbing your head, you swallow around him as he starts bucking into your mouth.

“Holy fucking shit, just like that. Don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop.”

You swallow around him one last time before pulling away and licking his tip, grinning as he hisses. 

“Fuck, why’d you stop?” he groans.

“Because I want to look you in the eyes and feel you quiver when I fuck the shit out of you,” you grin, pulling your tongue away.

Sitting up, you push him onto his back as you straddle him. “Are you ready?”

Katsuki gulps, eyes fixed on the space between the two of you.  Your hand moves to his neck, gripping it to stay yourself. Katsuki moans when he realizes your fingers cover his whole neck, almost meeting in the back. Your other hand reaches down to push his tip to your hole. In one swift motion, you’re seated down fully on him.

“Shit!” he gasps as you rock softly, getting used to the sensation.

Moaning softly, you lift your hips, balancing on the balls of your feet and toes before sinking down again, bouncing harshly on him. It’s so intense that Katsuki feels like he’s about to cum or pass out.

The grip on his neck tightens, and he whines, fisting the sheets.

“Shit, not so rough,” he chokes, but you don’t let up. Instead, you lean over him, your hair tickling his forehead and nose.

“You take what I give you.”

“Fuck!”

You grin when his eyes flutter. “Poor thing, you’re gonna cum already? I thought you’d last longer.”

“W-wait,” he whimpers, holding your hips. 

“What?” you growl, stopping your movements, opting to cockwarm him instead.

“I can’t—I’m gonna cum. You feel so good.”

You smile, starting to move again just to hear him choke. You feel his fingers dig into your skin, but you’re caught up, feeling the way his cock drags perfectly along your insides.

Katsuki lets out a strangled noise, bucking his hips up into you a few times, then he’s cumming. Hard.

You slow your hips down, drawing his orgasm out until he’s squirming and whining under you. Tapping your knees to get you off.

You grip his neck again, licking over your teeth. “You didn’t think we were done, did you?”

*

Katsuki wakes up sore all over but especially in his groin area. Looking over at your sleeping form, his face turns ruby red as he remembers what happened last night.

‘Shit…’

There’s a knock on the door. “Time for breakfast.”

You groan quietly, rolling onto your back, rubbing your face, then going back to sleep, completely ignoring him.

So he gets up, looking at himself in the mirror. He touches the numerous hickies on his neck, chest, and abdomen.

Only when he opens the window do you wake up.

“Ahhh, close the fucking curtains!” You groan, throwing a pillow at him.

Catching it before it hits him, Katsuki chuckles. “Good morning to you too, Princess.”

“Suck your mother, fuck off.” You roll back over.

“Someone came by saying it's time for breakfast.”

“They can wait.”

“You're not hungry?”

“Ugh.” You sit up, scratching your neck and yawning. “I guess.”

“Then let's go,” he chuckles.

Downstairs, everyone’s still feeling the after-effects of the party, even the younger kids who had way too much sweet water. Eijirou carries the triplets in his arms and sets them in their seats, chuckling as they try to keep their heads up.

Hagan peeks around the corner, checking if the coast is clear before pushing a girl with short twists out towards the exit. Unfortunately, she bumps into you and Katsuki coming from the baths. “Hello? The fuck are you?”

“Don’t worry about it, Bisa,” Hagan tries pushing her again, but you grab their heads.

“Why doesn’t your partner join us for breakfast?”

“No, she's got things to do back in the village. She's busy, right Nylene?”

“Nylene? Oh I know you, I fucked around with your brother. How is he by the way?”

The girl looked at you in shock. “Oh, um, he’s fine, Princess. I really should get going. I'll see you later, Hagan. Bye!” She runs off.

You turn to Hagan. “Ooohhhhh.”

“Shut up.”

“My baby bro got laid! I'm telling Eijirou.”

“Nooooo, his mouth runs like a river.”

“Too late!” You laugh and walk down the hall with Katsuki.

‘Fuck me…’ Hagan groans internally.

You show Katsuki the nursery, going in to get Blaze. He’s already awake, gurgling happily in his crib when he sees you.

Blaze pushes himself off the padded bedding and holds onto the railing bouncing on his legs. “Bisa! Bisa!”

“Hi baby boy,” you coo, picking him up. “Bisa’s turn to get you this morning for Mom.”

“Buv Bisa!”

“I love you too.”

Blaze points at Katsuki. “Bago, hi!”

“Hey little man,” he chuckles.

“Gotta go give him to Mom, you can wait for me downstairs if you want.”

“Do you mind if I come with you?”

“Sure, why not? Do you want Bago to come with us to see Mama?” you coo, playfully booping Blaze on the nose.

“Bago!” he giggles.

“Alright, let's go,” you smile.

Katsuki stands in Hestia’s private master bedroom doorway, watching you hand Blaze to Hestia in bed.

“Hi my love,” she smiles at the baby.

“Mama! Mama!” Blaze squeals, reaching for her, then Ember by her side. “Mama.”

“He’s so cute.” She smiles.

“Buv boo!”

“Aww, I love you too.”

Hestia sees a bite mark on your shoulder. “Seems you either had a good night or got into a fight.”

“A very good night. Right, Katsuki?”

Katsuki looked away from where he stood in the doorway, grumbling softly as his cheeks and tips of his ears were redder than your hair.

You lean in closer to whisper, “He fainted halfway through, though.”

“Needs to work on his stamina,” Ember hums, and Hestia nods. “So what’s the word? Courting?”

“Mmmm, I’ll think about it. I’ll be waiting at breakfast, byeee.”

“Ba ba Bisa!”

Finally, when everyone is downstairs, including Izuku, who has a suspicious limp, it’s time to eat.

“Ugh, my head,” Agni whines, rubbing her forehead. “I drank too much.”

“Too loud,” Tyson whines.

“You’ll get used to it,” you pet his curls. “It gets better over time. Aww, baby’s first hangover.”

“‘m not a baby, Bisa….”

“You'll always be a baby. All of you will.”

The thud of Stella’s head hitting the table gets your attention. “Well, she’s asleep.”

“Egan, please wake your sister,” Ember orders. “This is why I tell you not to stay up too late.”

Shula walks over to you and reaches for a hug as you sit down.

“Hey baby sis.” You let her sit on your lap.

Shula turns on her side, nuzzling into your stomach before falling asleep almost immediately, head tilted back, mouth agape.

Masaru notices Katsuki's new decorations. “Have a good night son?”

Katsuki grumbles in annoyance and turns away from his dad.

Breakfast is quiet, as it usually is after a party. Until Hestia announces, “It’s wash day.”

All the kids groan loudly, including you.

“What’s that?” Izuku asks, eager to learn more about your culture.

“Once every moon cycle we have a day where we all wash our hair. It's not supposed to be washed everyday. It takes fucking forever.”

“It’s worse when you're soft headed. I still remember Tanwen’s first wash day.” Eijirou pats his head.

“Alright, I know we all hate it but it’s necessary. Locs go with Bisa, curls with Bibo.” Hestia finishes. “We’ll head to the waterfall after breakfast.”

“Yes!” you cheer. The kids with locs sigh in relief. When you braid, it doesn’t hurt as much as it does with Eijirou.

*

Collecting your things for your hair, you start packing your satchel as you hear a knock at your door. “Come in,”

Katsuki opens the door, peeking inside. “Hey.”

“What’s up?”

He shuts the door, fiddling with his sleeve. “So about last night.”

“You mean how you fainted? Don’t worry about it.”

“Right…so I was thinking about…courting you.”

“Wait, really?”

“You're stunning, intelligent, strong, have a thirst for blood and life, and you’re amazing at taking care of your family. Fuck, you’re perfect.”

You put your hands on your chest. “Aw, I accept! That’s so sweet. But you know I’m courting Nuria also.”

“I…I know. That doesn’t mean we can’t be together, right?”

You shrug. “Better think this through before you make a decision. Let’s go, washday takes almost all afternoon.”

Separate carriages take all of you outside of town. Your visitors marvel at the private waterfall hidden amongst the shrubbery. The water is a clear sparkling blue and perfect.

The kids quickly take off their robes and rush into the water, splashing each other.

Ira helps Hestia sit on one of the rocks to start going through her shoulder-length curls.

“Alright, fuckers!” You call your siblings. “Line up and take your braids, twists, and puffs out.”

Izuku watches the kids with tied-up hair take out the strings, letting their curls fluff out and giggle.

Eijirou scratches his head, shaking out his long curls from the bun. “Oh, this is the best part.”

“Wait, your hair isn’t always like that?” Izuku asks in awe.

“No, I just tie it up so it’s out of the way.”

“Woah.”

Ember and the older kids help you wash your younger sibling’s hair with the homemade black soap, scrubbing their scalps of the build-up.

“Your hair got longer, Stella,” you smile, stretching the coils down her back.

“Yay!”

You chuckle when she leans her head back as you scratch her scalp. “Weirdo.”

Katsuki sits in the water, in his undergarments with Blaze, watching the baby splash happily. “Spla! Yay!”

“Heh, that’s right, splash.”

Udia wades over and touches his head. “Mom, can we do Bakugou’s hair?”

Ember shrugs, busy undoing Elio’s twists. “Ask him.”

“Can we?” Tanwen smiles.

“Uh, sure.”

“Yay!”

Mitsuki watches from the bank, laid out on a blanket, enjoying the sunshine and a well-deserved vacation. “This is nice.”

“Yes dear,” Masaru agrees.

Katsuki watches the two grab the soap and start rubbing their hands along his hair. “Do you two know what you’re doing?

“Duh!” Tanwen scoffs. “We’ve done this a billion times.”

“Don’t mess it up.”

“We won’t!”

After finishing your siblings’ hair, thankfully, no crying from Helia and Hagan on your part, you shuddered when Hestia called you over.

“It’s your turn, Y/n,” Hestia smiles.

“Do I have to?” you whine.

“Yes. Your roots are fuzzy. Come on.”

You sit between her legs, pouting. Looking over at Katsuki, you chuckle softly when you see Udia and Tanwen running the combs through Katsuki’s hair and gasping when it slides through with almost no restraint.

“So soft,” Udia marvels. “I wish my hair was flat.”

“Ew, no, you don’t,” Hagan says as he passes, overhearing the conversation. “It’ll look like a wolf.”

The girls giggle.

“Play nice,” Ira warns, gently trying to braid Helia’s hair.

“Sorry, Papa,” Hagan mumbles as he walks away to hang out with the others

You sigh wistfully, thinking.

“Your thoughts are loud. What’s wrong, love?” Ember asks, carrying Blaze.

Blaze squirms in her hold before giggling when he’s let down and able to splash the water again.

“He asked to court me, but I’m not sure. He seemed to have a problem with Nuria.”

“Maybe he’s not used to the idea of having two wives. To be fair, your grandfather and grandmother didn’t take too kindly when your father pitched the idea of your father marrying your mother.”

Hestia laughs. “Oh, they were so angry when he and your Ma came to our house to ask to marry me. Threw rocks at him too. They won them over, though. He spent half the day trying to convince them while your Ma had a long conversation with my mother, and eventually, my dad said yes, so long as nothing bad ever happened to me and nothing did. Except pushing eight of your fat heads out.”

You playfully glare at her when she says that. “Hey!”

“It’s the truth. But I love all of you, so it's all good.”

“Hmph”

Blaze holds your arm. “Bisa, pway?”

“I’m a little busy right now, Blaze.”

“Peez?”

“I can’t move from Mama.”

He starts to whine, but Agni snatches him up. “Hang out with me instead! Your much better and cooler Bisa.”

“What do you mean better?” you glare.

Agni sticks her tongue at you and carries Blaze towards the waterfall with the other kids who're rinsing their hair in the spray, not without getting splashed by you. “Mama!” she gasps.

“You deserved that,” You sneer.

“Both of you will kill each other,” Ember sighs, putting the clay in her locs.

“She shouldn’t try me.”

Hestia rolls her eyes and starts twisting your roots. “So about Katsuki, if he can’t accept your lifestyle, there are plenty of fish in the sea.”

“What about that nice baker boy you brought to the house last week?” Ember asks.

“Too skinny.” you huff. “Also, I'm not sure there’s a man left that isn’t wary of me considering the festival fights.”

Hestia and Ember look at each other knowingly. Hestia drops her head down to squish your cheeks together. “My little warrior. If a man can’t handle you, he’s not worth your time. But, Katsuki seems to hold his own against you.”

“I gave him a black eye….”

“And I broke your fathers arm during our first fire festival together. It’s sort of a rite of passage. And that’s how you were made! It riled him up.”

“Ew!”

“What happened to your neck?” Udia asks Katsuki, poking one of the hickeys.

Katsuki flinched when the little girl touched him. “Don’t touch that,” he hisses, cheeks slightly changing color.

“Color lizard!” Tanwen giggles.

“I’m not a reptile!”

Izuku sits next to Tyson while Eijirou washes his own hair. Flint wades over to him, staring hard.

“Hello?” ‘Which one is this one?’ Izuku thinks.

“Your hair is weird,” Flint points.

“Oh…”

“Weird is good.”

“Oh! Um, thank you?”

“Flint, leave him alone. Go twist your roots.”

Flint groans, sliding further into the water. “Don’t wanna, it always hurts when Agni does it. I’d ask Bisa but she’s talking to Ma and Mama.”

“There are fourteen other people, Flint.”

“Nobody else does it painlessly.”

“I could try?” Izuku asks.

“Have you ever done hair like this before?”

“I have a friend back home who has hair just like this. We do each other’s hair almost all the time. If it’s okay with you, Flint?”

“You’re sure it’ll be painless?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Can you fix my locs please?”

“Sure.”

You’re all done and satisfied with your hair an hour later.

Flint runs up to you and grins. “Bisa, look what Izuku did!” 

“Wow, those look nice.”

Blaze waddles over to you, splashing you and giggling. You cup water and pour it over his head, making him squeal in delight and run to hide behind Flint's leg.

“Attacking the enemy and retreating?! Not a chance,” you jokingly make punchy fingers at him and scoop him up, blowing a raspberry on his cheek. You feel something grab your legs and look down to see Shula and Tana clinging to your thighs.

“Take down the enemy!” Shula giggles and pinches you.

You feign hurt and put your hand over your forehead. “I’ve been defeated, and now I die!” You fall back into the water, keeping Blaze out, and the girls crawl over your body, declaring victory.

Ira puts his hand over his chest. “My warriors, you’re all growing up too fast.” He ruffles Eijirou’s hair. “Reminds me of how old I’m getting.”

“You’re not that old dad,” Eijirou chuckles, combing through his hair.

Stella runs to Ira with a small sack. “Papa, can you put the beads in my braids?”

He pats her head. “I’d love to princess, but I’m not good with that. Ask one of your Bibo’s or mothers.”

“Hey, pipsqueak, let me do it,” Katsuki calls out to Stella.

“Are you good at beading?” you ask, floating on your back in the water with Blaze sitting on your stomach.

“You think these beads in my hair are just for show? Did them myself.”

“Okay!” Stella grins.

“What pattern do you want?”

“Red green and yellow!”

Katsuki starts beading her hair, occasionally looking up and stopping when Udia and Tanwen watch him from the water.

“Hi you little gossipers,” he chuckles, finishing a row of braids.

Blaze yawns and snuggles into your tummy, sucking his thumb. You pat his back and adjust yourself, floating towards Hestia at the shallow end. “Someone’s tired.”

She picks him up, cradling him in her arms. “Poor baby, it’s almost time for lunch. We should hurry and get back.”

“Almost done,” Katsuki mumbles as he finishes the last row on Stella’s head. Looking away from her head, he notices most of your younger siblings staring at him as he finishes. “Um, hi?”

The younger siblings look at him before giggling when they see you look away from him when his eyes catch yours. 

“Alright, you babies, let's go!” you call out.

Stella hugs Katsuki as thanks before picking up her robes from the bank and running off towards the carriages.

Katsuki feels two small hands holding his own.

“Come on, Bibo, sit with me!” Helia begs.

“No, me!” Shula pouts, pulling his other one.

“Bibo?” he asks.

“You’re an honorary big brother now,” Tyson chuckles as he passes, helping Tana into her robe.

“Welcome to the club,” Hagan adds. “Now I can have some relief.”

“You love us,” the girls chorus. “Come on, Bibo.”

Katsuki follows them out of the water, picking up his clothes. He sees you grab Tana out of the water, and she starts wiggling and whining about not wanting to leave.

“We gotta go home! You can take a bath there!”

She wiggles harder and ends up smacking you in the face. “Ah fuck! You little bitch!”

“Hey! Stop that!” Ember scolds. “Tana, get in the carriage. Now.”

“Sorry, Mommy…sorry Bisa.”

You roll your eyes and set her down, rubbing your face. “Get in the carriage before I kick you.”

She squeals and runs away.

Ira comes to check your face. “Is it broken?”

“I don’t think so, it really hurts though.”

“We’ll get a healer to check it when we get back. The rest of you, collect your things and head to the carriages!”

On the ride home, you notice Izuku and Eijirou getting cozy in the seats in front of you. Oh, you’re definitely going to tease him when you get home.

*

After a hearty lunch, you head into the courtyard for your private nap time, away from your siblings.

You climb the large tree in the middle to one of the sunny branches and lay on your belly, sighing contentedly and starting to doze off.

“Bisa?” A small voice calls from below, but you stay quiet.

“She’s usually here,” Tana pouts, holding Katsuki’s hand. “Maybe she’s in her room.”

“You two go ahead. I’ll stay here if Y/n returns,” Katsuki tells them as they run off. “I know you’re up there, Y/n.”

You kiss your teeth. “Go away.”

“Why are you hiding from your siblings?”

“Cause I like to have alone time once in a while, is that so bad? God, you sound like Ma. Eijirou never has to deal with this shit.”

“Maybe cause he’s not the one they always look up to,” Katsuki chuckles.

Peeking your head from the leaves, you look at him. “What are you talking about?”

He leans against the trunk, looking up at you with a slight smile. “Your siblings clearly look up to you, they never shut up about you either. Yeah they talk about Eijirou but you’re clearly their favorite.”

“It’s probably because I’m the oldest…. I’ve been looking after those little monsters since I was like ten.”

“Still, they love you, even if you’re kinda mean to them,” he chuckles.

“I’ve gotta be mean sometimes. That doesn’t mean I won’t kill for them.”

“Are you gonna come down now?”

“Nope, it’s still nap time. You can stay or go.”

“I’ll go, but the girls are gonna come back sooner or later.”

“That's a problem for later, not now. Byee~”

Katsuki shakes his head and walks away. On the way back to the main area, he bumps into Hestia.

“Oh, Katsuki, hello! How have you been enjoying your stay?”

“It’s been nice, your highness.”

“You look upset, is something wrong?”

“No, I’m alright. Just bored.”

“If you’d like, you could go to the back of the castle. Some of the boys and Ira are making weapons and practicing their skills.” 

“As long as I don’t need to spar. I’m still a little dizzy from the festival.”

“Your bruise seems to be healing quite nicely. It should go away in a week, most likely.”

“That’s good to know, I’ll go see what they’re doing. Thanks, your highness,” Katsuki nods, walking towards the back of the castle. Opening one of the large double doors, he sees Ira with his sons. The boys surround their father and cheer him on as he chops a large stump in half with two swings.

“Go Papa!” Flintcheers, staring in awe. “You’re so cool!”

“Thanks, son. Oh, hello, young Bakugou,” Ira smiles, looking at the blonde staring through the half-open doorway,

Snapping out of his daze, Katsuki’s eyes snap away from Ira’s beefy arms. “Hello. The queen said I could come here.”

“You’re free to join us. Eijirou’s doing target practice with the younger ones so you can try that.”

“I’ll join later. What are you doing?”

“Bago! Bago!” Blaze calls from the side in a wooden playpen.

“Hi, Blaze.”

“We’re making weapons. Haco’s at the age to craft his first knife so Papa called us out here to help him,” Egan explains.

“Papa, do I have to make a knife?” Haco pouts. Ira pats his head.

“It’s tradition! Just a little wooden one, nothing too serious. Then when you’re Egan’s age you can get a real dagger.”

Egan twirls the obsidian blade proudly. “Here Libo, I’ll let you borrow mine to whittle with. Don’t cut yourself.”

Haco gasps excitedly when he gets the blade, clutching it in both hands. “So cool,” he grins. “I promise I’ll be super extra careful with it!”

“Don’t wave it around, it’s dangerous,” Tyson tells him and picks up one of the pieces from the cut stump. “Come on.”

Haco follows Egan and Tyson to one of the stone benches to start carving. Blaze starts fussing in his pen, so Elio picks him up and sets him on the ground to waddle around.

Blaze waddles to Ira, pulling his pant leg. “Papa? Wa do?”

“We’re making weapons, my little warrior.”

“Bwae do?”

“Sorry, libo, you’re too young to do this,” Elio smiles, ruffling his hair.

Blaze pouts and huffs, then walks over to Katsuki. “Bago?”

“Yeah, little guy?”

“Hug?”

Katsuki picks him up for cuddles, letting Blaze touch his hair.

Ira pats Katsuki’s back. “You’ll be a great father one day.”

Katsuki clears his throat, ignoring Blaze as he pats his reddening cheeks. “Thank you, sir. If you don’t mind, I do have a question for you. How do you handle it all?”

“What do you mean?”

“Sixteen children, a baby on the way, and two wives?”

“Is this about Y/n and Nuria?”

“I don’t know how I’d do it….”

Ira scratches his long red beard. “Time, patience, and love. It takes time and patience to get used to it. I was Tyson's age when I married Ember, and I was a nervous wreck the first year, both of us were.”

“How did you know you wanted to marry Y/n’s mom? Queen Hestia is her mom, right?”

“Yes, young man, she is. Hmm, no idea. It’s like an indescribable spark. You just know. And I thought Ember would be unaccepting, but she welcomed her with open arms.” He looks wistful at the idea.

“I have a question though. How would I do that with Y/n and Nuria?”

“Maybe hang out with Nuria for a day. Start to try and form a friendship at least with her. Nuria’s a nice young woman, I’m sure she’ll like you. Head over to her family farm sometime before it’s time for your family to leave.”

“I’ll go tomorrow, thank you.”

Ira smiles. “You’re quite welcome.”

“Bago peby!” Blaze giggles as he pats Katsuki’s cheeks again,

“Still don’t know what that means, little guy.”

“He thinks you look pretty,” Elio tells him, returning to trying to cut a stump.

“Oh. Aw, thanks, little man.”

Ira claps. “Alright, boys, back to training, finish up so your sisters can have a turn next.”

An hour later, you wake up from your nap and climb down the tree, yawning and stretching. A maid passes by and greets you.

“Celeste, where is everyone?”

“Your mothers and sisters are making hand baskets in the garden, and your father and brothers are training, princess.”  She bows her head and walks off.

“Wait, Celeste, where are our guests?”

“Erm, as far as I can remember, the king and queen went to the village and the green-haired one is with Prince Eijirou. I’m not sure where the straw hair one is.”

“Ah, well, thank you. I’ll go and find my father,” you nod, making your way towards the back of the castle.

Stepping into the field, you smile as you see your father helping Haco carve his tiny dagger. “Bisa!” Blaze giggles when he sees you.

“Blaze!” you giggle, picking him to kiss his forehead. “What’s up, guys? Hi Katsuki, are you okay?” You ask the blonde laying on the floor.

“Tyson punched him too hard and he got winded,” Hagan shrugs.

You walk over and squat next to Katsuki. “You alright?”

Katsuki gasps softly. “Yeah, I’m okay.

“He’ll be fine,” Tyson calls out.

“Bago owie,” Blaze giggles as you put him down.

“Don’t worry, I’m okay,” Katsuki chuckles, placing a hand on Blaze’s head.

“Buv boo,” Blaze giggles, grabbing two of Katsuki’s fingers with his hands.

‘He’s so small,’ Katsuki thinks as he smiles at the baby.

Haco runs to you, tugging your skirt. “Bisa, look at my knife!”

He shows you the crudely carved wooden dagger.

“What? It’s so good! You did a good job,” you ruffle his short locs. “Now you can stab people whenever you want.”

“Yeah!” He cheers and immediately runs to stab Egan in the leg, but thankfully, it’s blunt. “Death to stinky Bibo’s!”

“Why me?!” Egan protests and dramatically falls to the ground.

You giggle as Haco does the same to Tyson and Flint. Then he gently nudges Blaze with the blade, but the baby just stands there.

You poke his cheek. “Blaze, like I showed you. What happens when we get stabbed?”

Blaze blinks at you before falling on his butt. “Owie!”

“Good boy. But what happens after we get an owie?”

“Uh…bah!” he shouts, standing and hitting Haco’s leg, giggling when Haco playfully falls to the ground.

“Good Blaze,” you grin.

“Starting them off early, I see,” Katsuki chuckles and sits back up.

You sigh. “Yup, they’ll go off into the world soon and I want them prepared. Blaze, attack!”

Blaze shouts and jumps on Haco, hitting him with his tiny fists.

“Good boy.”

Katsuki looks over at Ira who glances at you.

“Right. I’ll be going to the village now to get some…stuff. See you later.” He rushes off before you can say anything.

“What was that about?” You ask.

“I’m sure it’s nothing, why don’t you teach Haco how to use his knife in the meantime?” Ira chuckles and picks up Blaze for cuddles.

© craftycheetah: all rights reserved. do not edit, modify, repost, or claim my works as your own.

[thealphabetmurders]

Some tips on writing Latino OCs/characters

Avoid the stereotype of the sex-siren “fiesty” Latino tropes: This stereotype does more harm than good, as almost all classic TV representation for Latinos is shown as the big hypersexualized character. By boiling down a Latino character to simply their sexual appeal, it denies them of their cultural identification if they do not fit what non-Latinos imagine all of them look like. 

Not all Latinos speak Spanish: In fact, many Latinos do not speak Spanish that often or at all. Many times, non-bilingual/Spanish speaking individuals will write Latino characters “slipping” into speaking Spanish. This, obviously, does not happen in real life. If a Latino says something in Spanish then they meant to say it in Spanish. Here are some realistic reasons why a Latino character could say something in Spanish/Spanglish:

They are speaking to their grandparents or other people who only speak that language

For emphasis. I would sometimes speak to my partner in Spanish because I felt as though I could express myself better and more naturally (also ‘te amo’ feels more impactful than ‘I love you’, but that just may be a personal thing), but this did not occur often. 

They are short phrases that any non-Spanish speaker could pick up on. Hola, gracias, de nada, mucho mejor, qué onda, madre/parde, casa, por qué are all ones I use around my friends sometimes. Again, sometimes.

There are others I am sure, but please be careful when writing a Latino character speaking Spanish. As a Latino living in America, if I am be honest, unless speaking with other Spanish speaking individuals, I do not use the language all too often (just like any other language, weird how that happens). 

Do your research naming Latino characters: Please do not simply look up “Hispanic names” and choose the ones you like off of a list. If all your names look something like “Diego Rodriguez” then you are doing a bad job. Here are some tips: 

69% of South America is Catholic and 19% is Protestant. Using that information, you are bound to have a lot of religious names. All of my siblings are named after biblical figures. Some examples I see a lot are: Rebecca, Isaiah, Claudia, Gabriela, Marcus, Elizabeth etc.

In Latino culture, many times children take both their parents last names so their names would be hyphenated. For example: Father’s last name could be Perez-ABC and Mother’s could be Ramirez-XYZ so the child’s name would be Perez-Ramirez. 

This isn’t a hard and fast rule. If only one of the parents is Latino than most often they will simply do what most of Western culture does and take the father’s last name as the family name.

Represent many aspects of Latino culture: I far too often only see Mexican Latinos, which is great, but also there are many other countries/places to represent (Cuba, Colombia, Puerto Rico, Costa Rica, Peru, Chile, Honduras and more)

Latinos have a variety of hair colors and skin tones and body types, make them: Afro-Latino people exist, write them. White passing Latinos exist, write them (though if you are only ever writing Latinos with pale olive skin and eurocentric features, you’re doing it badly). Latino people with thick curly hair and bold features exist. Talk about it. Latinas are not just your vessel to write about “thicc” or curvy women. Petite Latinos and especially plus sized latinos need representation. Represent them. 

Latinos do not just eat ‘Mexican’ food: Stop associating all your characters with tacos and burritos. 

If you do have Latino characters don’t be afraid to make them queer or disabled or anything else under-represented. 

Avoid stereotypes altogether: The maid, the drug dealer, the sex symbol, the immigrant, we get it. That’s all we see in the media. Look up stereotypes, avoid them. It’s not “making a statement”, it’s racist, stop it. 

If you describe any Latino person as “spicy” or “exotic”..................... :) you know

Make sure the connection to their cultural background makes sense: Some Latinos have a strong connection to their country and culture, some do not. Make sure it makes sense for their family history, background, etc.

This is all I can sort of think of off the top of my head. Latino people, please feel free to add on with anything else (my experiences are a bit limited as a Puerto Rican living in America, so the more perspectives the merrier). White people and non-Latino POC’s can comment questions but please don’t clown (no “I am not latino but also...!)

Please reblog, this is important for non-Latino creators!

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden----Anonymity Ch.3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Your quiet days in castle Dimitrescu met their end the moment Cassandra took an interest in you.

You should have known. Perhaps you did know and just didn’t want to admit it.

The woman –vampire, mutant, what even are they— is a bipolar sadist.

One night she may be walking down the halls sending you a sexy wink under her hood as she passes you by, the next she could show up out of nowhere and cut you ‘hello’ with her sickle, scoop up the blood with her thumb to taste, then disappear again. The evening after that, she may not even give a damn about you, may not spare you a single fleeting glance, like even the notion you could be worth her time is laughable.

And it is, isn’t it.

Humans are nothing to them. Your significance is below that of a pet. You may as well be livestock. It doesn’t matter, though, so long as you continue to breathe and remain intact. They’re the two essential factors to escaping. All else is secondary.

It doesn’t matter how Cassandra views you.

You don’t even like her.

What is there to even be drawn to? She’s covered in blood more often than not. The scent of iron usually drowns out her perfume. She’s capricious and cruel and the living personification of an unsheathed knife. You prefer your routes safer. Playful, creative pretty girls that are good for you and most importantly, sane.

Whatever weird tricks your brain and hormones are playing where she stars –you hate it, what is wrong with you— they’re just delusions, you reason, born from her questionable flirting and your time in captivity. It’s just a really bothersome case of Stockholm Syndrome you’re developing. And it has to stop.

Another week passes. You don’t see her.

You are on another night shift when you hear the telltale buzzing of insects down the corridor. Hervoice reaches your ear afterwards;

“Ugh, Bela, you never complain about anything. It’s so annoying.” Two pairs of heels steadily tap towards you.

“I leave it to you and Dani to cover for me, since you complain about everything.” The quieter sister drawls. You can easily picture her roll her eyes as she says it.

“You know, you really should sound more thankful I came with you in this unearthly cold.”

“I gave you the option not to—”

“Just to have you rummage through that bookshop for what was definitely the most boring twenty minutes of my life.” Cassandra continues.

From the fleeting glance you steal at them, the entirety of her attention is on Bela. You don’t think she’ll notice you as you continue polishing the corridor’s decorations. It’s just another one of these nights where you don’t exist and you’re deeply glad for it. Not just for yourself, but also the other maids.

“I thought I was going to die of frostbite.” she growls, shaking the elder sister’s arm.

“Technically, you can’t.” Bela shakes hers back.

It would be… cute, if they were any normal family. But you are quick to remind yourself of what they really are. Devils in human form. Monsters that took you from your home and trapped you here, to clean after their mess, with the threat of death looming over your head every second.

Their steps pass you by. You can almost breathe normally again, when—

Cassandra stops.

“Not even going to tell me hello?” The hurt in her voice can’t be genuine, you tell yourself as you turn around to face her. She’s closer than you thought, enough for you to be able to make out the tiny melting snowflakes caught in her long lashes.

“Um—hello.” you say, awkwardly.

“Cassandra.” Bela lets out a soft sigh.

“Bye, Bela.” The brunette pointedly speaks over her shoulder.

And to your horror… “Just keep in mind what mother said about the maids.” the eldest sister leaves you alone with her.

Each further step until the blonde disappears from view fills you with dread. Cassandra has that spark in her eye that you’ve learned to not associate with anything good. She’s completely still until she’s sure the two of you won’t be overheard or interrupted.

Then, she moves.

Her hands all too easily shove you against the wall. It’s more startling than painful, you realize, when your back doesn’t protest much at the collision.

Cassandra maintains eye contact with you as she tugs at the fingers of her gloves. You cannot fathom why it looks that sexy, the way she pulls them off, whether it is intentional or not.

“Plaything.” she says. Another new nickname for you. Not that you ever expected her to care to know your name. “I’m terribly cold.” she doesn’t seem to be lying, though the soft pout that curves her mouth is surely for effect.

It’s a test and your wellbeing depends on it.

Only, you have no idea what you’re supposed to do. Ruling your nerves under control, you decide to start slow. “Shall I light the fireplace in your room, my lady?”

“Maybe I want something more… immediate.” she replies, raising her hand to your neck.

The second her freezing skin touches your flesh, you cannot help but flinch. It feels like a slightly softer block of ice. Cassandra’s eyes creak at the corners. Of course, the sadist is enjoying your torment. Slowly, her fingers move under the collar of your black button-up shirt, which only makes it worse. The cold spreads, a peculiar tingle at your stomach with it.

“Well?” she asks. You get the memo that just sitting back and letting her have her way isn’t going to work, this time. You call upon all the willpower you possess and act.

Carefully, your hands rise to meet her own. You aren’t looking at her in the eyes –you don’t think you could— as your fingers wrap around hers and bring them in front of you, close to your body, warmed from hours of work. Instead, your gaze locks on the golden jewel decorating the chocker at her throat, before falling down, to your point of contact.

It is not the first time you see her hands without gloves on, but it only now hits you just how dainty they look. Her nails, filed round, are dyed a darker shade of crimson, stark against the white of her skin. There isn’t a single blemish or uneven spot you can feel on her palm. It is a princess’ hand you seem to be holding, not a killer’s.

But appearances can be deceiving.

The very corner of Cassandra’s lip curls up, amused or pleased or both. She then reaches forward, at the lowest clasped button of your shirt… and frees it open. You’re sure you aren’t breathing. Two more buttons are released. Her fingers, at least now considerably warmer, splay against your stomach. Something inside you quivers like a flickering candlefire.

You don’t want her touch.

But a traitorous, weak part of you has already decided that it does.

“You work out?” it is merely a whisper between you. She presses a little closer, entirely unashamed to be feeling the contours of your middle up while you’re burning with embarrassment.

“…probably the days of working in the fields.” you say, voice low because it cannot be trusted any higher. She’s doing a little thing with her thumb over your skin that you desperately want to deny turns you on.

Thanks to her you’re now freezing and burning at the same time.

Cassandra just stays like that for a few more seconds.

“Draw me a hot bath.” she eventually orders and extracts herself from you as if she’s not remotely happy with her own decision.

-

-

You don’t really know how she likes her bath and she doesn’t tell you.

All you can do as you test the water on your hand is pray. Your mind isn’t really working right after the touching at the hallway, but your survival instincts are strong still. Strong enough to remind you that Cassandra likes to be treated like royalty above all, so bubbles are your best friend in this. The more, the merrier.

The Dimitrescu daughter does not ask if the bath is ready when she comes in. You aren’t used to her being so silent, so you turn to see if something is wrong –but immediately regret it when the heavy robe clinging to her body drops down. The only glimpse you catch is of the fabric pooling at her feet like a shadow.

Your eyes stay glued on the queen-sized bathtub, even when she approaches. They turn to the side as she enters it.

You want to ask if the water is fine, but you can’t find your voice. You lose even your train of thought when she lets out a small hiss as she sinks in, replaced by a moan once she’s completely settled back, neck tilted and eyes closed in bliss. The polite thing is to let her bathe in peace, so you move to do just that.

Cassandra has other plans.

Her hand shoots out of the tub to wrap around your wrist, inescapable as an iron shackle. Those intense yellowish eyes are on you again and they seem to be glowing under the dim lights.

“No.” she says. “Massage. Now.”

Ah, great. You think. You’ve spoiled her. But if giving Cassandra massages is what is going to keep your hands attached to your body, you won’t complain. It’s just that… you can’t really focus right now. None of your thoughts are right or remotely what they should be. You need time off from her, rather than touching her.

Thankfully, the moans are kept to a minimum and there is no teasing. She is utterly relaxed, only giving the occasional command for higher or lower. It does kind of kill you when at one point she whispers “Right there.” but you are able to move past it.

You leave fresh towels beside her when you’re finally allowed to leave. Back in her bedroom, you light the fireplace in a way that you make sure will last through the day, while she’ll be asleep. The plan is to leave before she returns, but she’s already there by the time you’re finished with the preparations.

And –you’re trapped.

Because, again, she’s changing and you have to look away to preserve your sanity and probably your eyes. “No peeping, now.” she calls over her shoulder. You know better than to dare.

You keep your hands busy arranging bottles and boxes at her vanity until she’s done. Cassandra does that ‘flashing’ thing where she’s on one side of the room one moment and right behind you the next. You only then notice a little insect flying back into her form. It was spying on you.

“You didn’t even look near me, huh.” she says it like ‘congratulations, you passed’, but there’s a bitter undertone of disappointment in her voice.

She’s only feeling down that you didn’t give her an excuse to slice at your face, you think. Then again, does she really need one?

“I wouldn’t, my lady.” you assure. “If I may be excused—”

“Did I say you can go?” she turns you around, none-too-gently, her hands on your biceps tight. You’re effectively pinned against her and the vanity, but you have much bigger problems to worry about, when you take in what she’s wearing.

Cassandra is clad in a flimsy nightrobe that leaves little to the imagination, the fabric nearly see-through. You can see the edges of her lacy underwear underneath it, how nicely it sits against her perfect curves. To make matters even worse, the robe ends at about mid-thigh and your eye catches the expanse of creamy skin on display.

Your brain nearly melts.

“I don’t know what it is about you, plaything, but you’re working up my appetite.” she confesses, pressing into you, pressing you harder into the furniture. You try to think of literally anything else than how well her thigh is slotted between your legs.

If you’re supposed to look away from her lidded eyes, however, you can’t. And if you’re not supposed to feel the echo of her nails on your arm all the way down to your center, you can’t. You are definitely not supposed to be so achingly curious about her bow-shaped lips. But you just can’t.

“You’re working me up.” she breathes, so close you can feel the ghost of her lower lip on yours.

And then –her mouth is on you and you forget how to breathe. Your eyes close and just feel, instead. If this is how you die, maybe it isn’t such a bad way to go. It’s been too long since you kissed anyone, seems like ages ago now, but you gradually remember how to move once you allow your muscles to unlock.

Not looking at her makes it easier. Her lips are balmy and smooth and slide so good on your own you can’t think at all, much less of what she’s capable of. You would have guessed her to be aggressive, but Cassandra is oddly hesitant, the only thing hard about her being her grip.

You’re not sure what you’re doing or how you get so bold, but your hands trail up to her waist and pull her in. The little hitch in her breath threatens to break you. It provides the perfect opening to part her lips with your tongue. As soon as it touches hers, she moans low in her throat and slowly drags her hips against your thigh.

Oh. God.

There’s a hollow ache in your stomach. You’re shamefully wet for her. The voice of reason is mute in your head, until you’re forced to break your liplock to breathe and it only then hits you what you’ve just done.

Cassandra’s lips are insistent on your jawline, on the vulnerable spot under your ear. Her open-mouthed kisses are just hard enough, at first, but then start to border on painful. Your heart skips a beat when you feel the press of teeth, yet she rips herself off of you before she bites down.

“Ugh. I’m… so thirsty.” she says it lightly, but her voice is hoarse and something about her body language gives you the impression she’s hurting. “You should leave. Fast.”

You almost make the mistake of reaching for her. Almost.

Cassandra turns away from the temptation of your veins.

For both your sakes –mostly for yours— you hurry out of her room and never stop to look back.

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

THE TRILOGY IS HEEERE >:D

again with some simping, because if night is forced to wear a maid dress better look classy while doing so amma right ;)

tagging our fellow headcannoners @kotikaleo @help-im-a-gay-fish @jann-the-bean and adding @diofasolia @dragon-tamer-1 to the gang because the more the merrier ;)

also

i swear you all are insane and i love you guys :'D

all of this was supposed to be an ecto practice but guess y'all liked it x)

i mean if any of the three drawings of these bois hit 200 notes i'll redraw the valentine special except i'll do it much better

studio au belongs to @zu-is-here

and look i didn't just spent my life on the leg ecto to just erase it so have it anyways

legs<3

[grimoire-of-seven]

𝑶𝒃𝒆𝒚 𝑴𝒆: 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒆 𝑾𝒆𝒅?

ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟜: 𝕎𝕖𝕕𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔼𝕡𝕚𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕦𝕖

Rating: SFW Word Count: 925 Characters: All Brothers, Barbatos, Luke, Simeon, Solomon, & Dia x Gender Neutral Reader Note: Hello, darlings.~ You vote and we deliver. Foremost, thank you to our 2000+ followers for supporting us and helping us reach this milestone and we truly appreciate it. It is still something that surprises us until this time and here is to more milestones to achieve.~ Also, Happy Valentines to everyone and thank you for the patience there is for waiting on our wedding event epilogue. ----

“All better, your majesty.”

Grinning at his own reflection with his butler blending to the background tidying his majesty’s accessories, everything seems perfect. 

Somehow less is more on this kind of occasion.

Grinning with how suave his reflection was, seeing how his outfit compliments his complexion with a few turns and angles, glasses of champagne rang a chorus of congratulations from the brothers - toasting for his and his human’s marriage.

“You know, Looord Diavolo~,” the human sorcerer cooed at his ear, the lord emphasizing the Avatar of Pride’s way of addressing the royalty who was watching at the distance until his attention went to the twins drinking all of the champagne, “I’m just saying if you really want this ‘union’ to work, why don’t we just all share them?~”

“I am with Solomon here.” Asmodeus handing and chiming in like his glass clinking with his Majesty. “Isn’t it the more, the merrier?~”

“Well,” the Avatar of Greed interrupting, “We all made pacts with our human and they want us around, surely…” with the eldest glaring at the peripheral of his vision, “Our prince has no say to it.?” He mumbled the latter under his breath, seeing the eldest approaching the trio.

“Do we not have places to be, hmm?” Lucifer announcing himself as the three scattered, with some as the bridesmaids, their human’s maid of honor, and with Diavolo, the Avatar of Pride accompanied his friend, both waiting for their human at their made-shift altar.

For a moment, with guests taking their seats, Diavolo had his fingers subconsciously knotting themselves together. Even with an open suit, he could feel heat trickling within his sleeves and forehead had Lucifer did not interfere with his fixation on little details, twenty-five minutes later. 

With his best man, hushedly announcing the silhouettes entering the door's frame, all eyes were watching and waiting for his love to come, all rising from their seats, their familiar faces turned in the opposite direction. 

Brushing the carpet with awws was Devildom's little Luke bearing the pair of rings softly cushioned by a royal navy pillow and rather than being frustrated and at his wit’s end with how blatant demons would say about how tiny he was compared to many, the prince noticed the adorable angel beaming, happy to be a part of his and his human’s ceremony. Entering behind him were the avatars of sin, uniformly dressed with such sophistication, all except for his love’s favorite brother whom they are in arms with, walking towards him. 

From that moment, he could feel his lips climbing from ear to ear, endearingly fixated on the beautiful person walking, smiling back at him. Beautiful and perfect were mere words that could not compare to what was before him. His lips were blissfully sealed to a grin, he felt a tickle on his cheeks, making him sway and bite his lips with his love reciprocating his smile that the prince’s eyes spoke for himself as tears welled up before his hands could wipe them.

They are just so beautiful.

Just so perfect..

Sniffing and murmuring just how lucky and privileged he was, to be the one blessed with their arms forever. He scoffed with many thinking they were in a Cinderella tale, with him as the prince charming taking a commoner to his arms when he could recall being the opposite just as what his words aforementioned.

Letting the thought settle seeing his once fellow student, to now become his partner-in-life near, his love reached for his cheeks to dry upon arriving beside him, giving him a smile that only his eye could paint as the prince of Devildom watched them meet him in the middle.

Resisting to share a kiss as he has been told to save it at the concluding bit, which was rather silly for the crowned monarch of Hell since from what he was briefed with, weddings are supposed to be the display of devotion, he felt a nudge from his hand reigning his thoughts to the present, one taken with such warmth, he composed himself just as they shared the sacrament no demons dared to be sealed with, let alone be officiated by those who flock around Heaven, he noticed how flustered his love was, perhaps the surprise he hinted last night drifting away with minutes passing by to sweep it off.

“You look so wonderful, love.” He teased seeing them elegantly laced, making them redder than the bouquet on their hand, and hearing them grudgingly 

Hearing the ceremony partake and how there was so much excitement in the room, contentment resonated in his heart, sighing all the bubbling doubts aside before the ceremony. Alas, the happiness he had only elevated when it was their time to  recite their vows, captivating the royalty - swooning him almost had it was not his time to speak. 

Spotlight on his head and the ring on his finger, what was rehearsed last night with his best man and butler stayed behind his tongue, retreating from the “puppy eyes”, he awkwardly held their hands, reciprocating the fond softness there were in their eyes, and rather than to speak, he let the growing light blind represent himself, shocking those who came to witness as a print of his came onto his human’s skin, particularly on their ring finger before he could put their ring on - happy to make a pact with them.

And I will be with you if forever could never be enough for me to say I love you so.

[capesandshapes]

All You Had To Do Was Stay (Adrienette) (2/4)

Summary:

Three years ago, Marinette revealed her identity to him. Three years ago, he promised to wait in a hotel room for her. Three years ago, she opened the door to find it empty.

Now she's expected to play nice with him, since she's the maid of honor and he's unfortunately the best man. But old habits die hard, and old feelings die harder.

"This is a wedding, not a death march, Marinette."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They had gone overboard.

Marinette had one job, and they had gone overboard.

Okay, she had five jobs—but at the moment it felt like only one, and at the moment, that job was completely and utterly failed.

Every single surface of the bakery was covered in cakes. Every godly combination of cake, every possible frosting, every style of decoration, every type of vanilla—And that wasn’t even the end of it.

No! Because what if, at the very last moment, Alya and Nino had needed cupcakes or a pie or a tarte. Were they sure they didn’t want cookies? They could include them in the gift bags! And savory cakes weren’t off the table either, Marinette’s father reassured them that he could stay up the whole night and bake enough for Paris if they needed.

Not to mention the eight boxes on the counter behind Marinette—She’d been looking thin! This past week Tom had been worried that she’d been depressed—Never mind the fact that she was—and his little girl needed her favorite treats… Which meant every sweet she had ever so much as smiled at, and so many dumplings that Marinette would have to freeze them and eat them for months to come. Nino and Alya had similar offerings behind them.

Nino and Alya also had strained looks on their faces.

The cake tasting had gone over an hour later than it was supposed to, and there was no possible way out. Nino checked his smartwatch a thousand times, but every attempt he made at opening his mouth found his plate refilled.

“I just love weddings,” Marinette’s father proclaimed, tears in the corners of his eyes.

Marinette couldn’t miss the soft mumble of her mother trying to calm him, “someday, Tom.” She did her best to eat then, if only to soothe the two of them.

Her parents didn’t know what had happened between her and Adrien, only that one day he was there and the next day he jetted out of Paris. It was better that it stayed that way, god forbid they found out. She didn’t want to be there the moment that her father realized; she didn’t think she could stand to have him look at her afterwards.

He always wanted the world to be good to her, and she didn’t have the heart to tell him that it hadn’t been. That she’d faced monsters he couldn’t imagine and had skirted the line between life and death as a hero of Paris. That was one secret he would never know.

“I really do have to go, Mister Dupain,” Nino tried for the hundredth time as her dad placed four more slices on his plate. “There’s this thing and I… I mean, I can’t leave my dude waiting.”

“You could invite them here,” Tom said, serving Alya a slice of spiced rum cake. The young woman teetered between blissful and concerned. “Like I always say, the more the merrier.”

“Yeah, that’s like, a completely valid statement in some cases but…” Nino trailed off, flinching. Her dad frowned. “I mean, it’s not you! Definitely not you guys, you’re amazing—Marinette is amazing!” He quickly added. “It’s just one of those things…”

“We’re not hip anymore, or they don’t like cake?” Tom pushed. “Because I have croissants, croquettes, even a quiche or two! If they’re gluten intolerant, I have a whole spread!”

“No, no! He loves your stuff!” Nino immediately flinched the moment he said it.

The gears began to turn in her father’s head at the same time Marinette nearly choked on her slice of cake. “Adrien!” His face lit up with familiarity, making the obvious guess since the blond’s return was the talk of Paris. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen him, honey!” He immediately turned to her mother, and Marinette could see him quickly begin to recall the young man’s order.

“Three years,” Marinette finally butted in, supplementing the information her father would no doubt demand to know. “It’s been three years.”

“He must have gotten so skinny,” her father said with an edge of concern, “Sabine, we should make a box!” Her mother was already ahead of him.

Alya butted in, swallowing the remainder of her cake in one bite. “I mean, he’s still a model, maybe he shouldn’t come. I mean, the temptation, the…” She looked to Marinette to supplement, all the woman could do was vigorously nod her head, “carbs.” Alya winced.

“Nonsense, everyone knows those diets aren’t healthy,” Sabine began.

“He’s really into them,” Alya insisted.

“Well,” Sabine continued, fully dedicated to the idea of helping such a poor, starving model, “we’ll fix that. Call him up.”

“That’s…”

“—I’m sure Marinette wants to see him,” Sabine finished.

Oh, how utterly wrong she was. “Call him,” Marinette said, trying to make the strange way that she pulled back her lips look more like a smile than a wince of pain, “what’s the worst that could happen?”

****************

The worst that could happen was that he could show up. And he did.

And suddenly, there he was. Adrien. Standing in her parents’ shop door, a familiar blue scarf around his neck tied almost as tightly as her father’s arms were wrapped around him. Laughing, smiling, acting like nothing had happened and like he hadn’t been gone for three years.

Until he saw her.

“You sit next to Marinette, Adrien,” Sabine insisted, “we don’t want to break up the lovebirds.”

She swore she saw him swallow.

He looked different in real life compared to his Instagram posts, she was pleased to see. They’d erased the small bags underneath his eyes, the creasing beginning to form between his brows, and that persistent memory of a smile that hung on his lips even when he was meaning to look stoic and thoughtful. She was a little thankful for it, because that meant that the man she sometimes looked at in the middle of the night, that she spent far too much time on, was fake. She wasn’t crying over the real Adrien Agreste while he was lounging on a beach somewhere with flawless skin and a perfect smile.

“It’s been a long time, Marinette,” he said as he settled beside her, his voice soft and almost inaudible. She couldn’t place the tone of it.

“Whose fault is that,” her response was sarcastic and the smile she put on for her parents’ sake was fake. She’d rather he sat in a dumpster outside.

He winced.

“So,” Tom carried on, loading up a plate for Adrien to the point that Marinette was almost afraid of it cracking, “New York, Berlin, Rome, Moscow, and Sydney! You’re really well-traveled now, Adrien, I’m a little jealous! I’m afraid to say that I didn’t pin you for a globetrotter, but maybe I was a little wrong in that! You’ve done some really impressive things these past years.”

“Yeah,” he said, accepting the plate from Tom with a gracious nod, “I’ve really gone out there, but I’m happy to be home. I always tell everyone that my heart is in Paris. I was sad to leave it.”

“So, you’ll be staying around then?” Sabine perked up.

“For a few months, maybe if I’m lucky a few years,” he said. “It really depends on how things go.” Looking down at his plate, Adrien said, “I sort of left a lot of things up in the air when I left Paris.”

If there was a word for the look Marinette shot him out of the corner of her eye, it was poisonous.

It was Tom’s turn to speak again, he continued his interrogation of Adrien as Sabine shot her daughter a questioning look, and Alya gave Marinette a warning kick from her seat a few inches away. “So, what’s on the checklist while you’re here? Any sights you have to see, things you have to do, friends you have to check in with?”

All anger melted away, dissolving into the utterly terrifying sea of embarrassment. Alya’s eyes widened in mock horror as the color left Marinette’s face, the way he said friends let there be no mistake, her father was going to try to wingman for her.

“I think most of his friends are gone by now—” Marinette quickly interrupted.

“Well, I have my father’s house to sell, I’d like to check in with a few victims of akumatization, and—” he paused at her statement, his eyes quickly looking over to her and catching her gaze for a split second. “I had some friends I wanted to check in,” he said, his tongue wetting his lips in an awkward show of unease.

“Had,” Marinette emphasized, drawing the line.

“Had,” Adrien repeated, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. He sat up a little straighter, looking back to the Dupain-Chengs. “It’s been a long time.” Indeed, it had been.

*****************

Somehow they made it through all the cakes, her parents sending each home with an additional box of their favorites so that they could be absolutely sure of their selections. Alya and Nino went home together, and there was an option for Marinette to stay at her parents, but one look at her mother’s eyes roaming over her like a crime scene and Marinette knew she wouldn’t take it.

She always liked the walk home anyway, and her parents wanted to speak to Adrien a little longer. So, giving the slightest of waves, she walked out.

She only realized what an awful choice that was minutes later, when she heard the pounding of pavement behind her and a familiar voice calling her name. “Hey, Marinette, wait up!” Adrien.

Maybe if she pretended not to hear it, he would go away.

He did not go away.

“Marinette!”

“I should have just stayed home, I should have just slept in my childhood bed,” Marinette mumbled, cursing the fact that she didn’t live near a tourist destination where she could easily vanish into the crowds. No, instead she was walking down a quiet, empty street; one where it was impossible to ignore him.

“Hey,” he said when he finally caught up to her, and she clenched her eyes shut as tightly as possible as if that would somehow make him go away.

Hey, that was what he had to say? Three years and she gets a hey? “Hey,” she said back, her voice dripping with unenthusiasm. What on earth did he think he was doing?

She opened her eyes to see his hand at the back of his neck, a sheepish expression on his face. “I, uh, just wanted to say hi.” Right.

“Of course,” she said awkwardly, “that’s all you want to say, right. Thank you,” she paused. “Hi,” she reiterated, echoing the statement back at him. As if they hadn’t just spent four hours trying cakes together, as if he hadn’t sat right beside her in her parents’ shop, as if she wasn’t freaking Ladybug and he Chat Noir.

They were on hi terms now. What even were hi terms?

He quickened his pace to keep up with her. “Listen, uh,” he tried again, “I want this to work out.”

He caught the look on her face.

“The wedding,” he quickly clarified. “Their wedding, not ours. Because, you know, there won’t be an our wedding, there will be a… their wedding. And that’s uh…,” he was trying not to ramble, she could tell. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” she parroted back.

“I just want to get through this,” he started quickly, and his eyes immediately widened as he realized what he said and how it could be misunderstood. He tried to open his mouth again, but she stopped him before he could get more words out.

“We will,” she said.

“Right, because we’re…” A team? He’d ended that. “Good at working together,” he said, and even Marinette had to flinch at how lame it sounded.

“Yeah, I’m sure we are,” Marinette replied, letting her eyes drift down to the sidewalk. She didn’t want it to last too much longer, she didn’t want him to see that she still lived in the same place. She didn’t want him to have another part of her life.

She couldn’t afford for him to.

And yet there he was, and she could tell that he wanted it. That he wanted another part of her life, that he wanted—god, what did he want? To ruin her again? To make the fact that it wasn’t going to happen completely clear?

“I missed you,” he said suddenly, his voice low and almost croaking.

“Go home, Adrien.”