#mother fanfic

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe

warnings: mention of menstruation, swearing

I groaned as I left the bathroom. Carl looked up and bishop raised an eyebrow at me. I threw the heating pad away and stormed back to the room Darren had set up for us. I curled up on the bed and threw the blanket over me. I could hear the guys muttering in the other room and tried to block them out.

“mother!” I heard Carl yell. Bishops voice was next, calling after him. There was a knock on the door and I made a noise before it opened. I pushed down the blanket so I could see who it was.

“Darren.” I breathed out. He came into the room, closing the door softly. Darren kept his arms behind his back as he came by the bed.

“Hey.” He whispered. “How you feeling? I mean I know you feel like shit but otherwise…” Darren gave me a small smile. I shrugged.

“heating pad is broken.” I muttered, pulling the blanket up again. “Cramps are trying to kill me. I feel like utter crap.” Darren nodded before sitting down on the edge of the bed. He rubbed my arm through the blanket.

“I…may have an idea.” He offered. “If you want to try.” I pushed the blanket down and groaned.

“oh fuck yes Darren.” I practically moaned. “I’ll do anything at this point.” He smiled at me before motioning me forward.

“ok. Sit forward.” Darren said, climbing behind me. “Now sit back. Against me.” He wrapped his arms around me and I noticed he brought a laptop. “You’re going to laugh.”

“Darren…” I said, turning to look at him. He waved a hand at me.

“just let me try this ok?” He was close to pleading. “I want to try to help you feel better and this is all I have. The heating pad broke. This laptop heats up just as much when I run a trace. So please…” I nodded at him as I laid back against him. Darren put the laptop on my lap and let me move it over my cramps. He booted it up and opened the trace. “We don’t actually have anyone to try to trace so…” Darren kissed the back of my head. “Whatever you want.”

“can we play minesweeper instead?” I asked, tilting my head back on his shoulder. Darren laughed, making me smile as it vibrated through his chest and my back.

“yeah.” He said, squeezing me gently. I smiled at him as he booted it up. We laughed as we played, the laptop heating up against me. It started to ease my cramps and I turned to look at Darren.

“The fuck Darren?” I said, she’s wide as I stared at him. He tilted his head at me and I cupped his cheeks, kissing him deeply. Darren hummed against my lips before pulling away. “Where’d you come up with this?” He chuckled before kissing me again, this time more gently and sweetly.

“just figured it was worth a shot if the guys complained it got too hot to put in their laps.” He shrugged. “Liz was about the only one to tolerate it. Then come to find out…”

“so you kind of stole the idea from Liz?” I asked.

“sort of.” Darren shrugged. “I don’t think that’s what she was using the heat for but I mean if it works it works.” I laughed as I kissed him again.

“my ingenious man.” I rubbed my thumb over his cheek as he blushed.

[anundyingfidelity]

me when 'the boys' pull up the most disgusting, grotesque and bizarrely exaggerating scene ever on screen for parody, satire or social criticism purposes (or just because, idgaf):

[cutielando]

Lactation kink with lando to help him sleep🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

lactation | l.n.

warnings!!: lactation kink, nipple play, titty play, sloppy handjob, grinding

my masterlist

He couldn't help it.

During your pregnancy, he couldn't help the awe he felt whenever he felt your breasts in his hands, so swollen and full and ready to feed his child.

He found you insanely sexy even before pregnancy, but imagine what he felt once you were swollen with his child, your curves and beauty even more appealing to him than ever before.

He loved you, every little part of your body, but your breasts would always top the game.

You would often complain about them, saying they were always sore, heavy and swollen.

"Lan, my boobs hurt so much. Can you please help me?"

Absolute music to his ears.

Once you gave birth, the phrase gave him even more of a rush. Because of you breastfeeding your little girl, all of your shirt had wet spots where your nipples were, the excess milk always finding its way to your shirt.

Lando went feral every time he noticed.

He didn't know why he found it so hot, or why it stirred such a reaction out of him. Maybe because it reminded him time and time again that you were the mother of his child, that you gave him the best gift he could have ever received.

"You look tired" he stated one night, coming into your bedroom after he'd put the baby to sleep.

You sighed, running your hands down your face and then putting them on your breasts, who were once again swollen and full.

"I always look tired. Besides, the baby didn't eat all that much tonight so I'm swollen again" you grimaced as you pressed onto your left boob, wincing at the pinch of pain you felt.

Seeing you massaging the boobs that he had become so obsessed with got Lando going, once again. He licked his lips, his jeans gradually straining against his crotch as all the blood traveled down to his cock.

"Want me to help you out?" he asked, and you nodded without a second thought.

You didn't think much of it. In fact, you would be lying if you said the sight of Lando massaging and sucking on your boobs didn't make you wet and craving for him. Your hormones were going crazy when you were near him, whenever he would touch you where you needed him the most, but nothing made you as wet as him sucking the milk out of your boobs did.

"Lay back for me" his husky voice said, quickly working to discard every last piece of clothing from his body.

Your breathing quickened as you watched him get naked right in front of you, your hands unconsciously flying to your shirt, taking it off and throwing it somewhere on the floor next to Lando's clothes.

He slowly stalked over to you and laid down next to you on the bed, his fingertips slowly inching upwards across your body to where you needed him the most.

"So beautiful" he whispered once his hand reached the underside of your boob, leaning down and pressing a kiss to it. "And full" another kiss. "And all mine" you gasped when he wrapped his lips around your hardened nipple, his other hand gravitating towards your other boob, playing with your other nipple as he started sucking on your left one.

You gasped at the sensation of Lando stimulating your nipples, the pleasure coursing through your veins like adrenaline. Nobody had ever made you feel like Lando has, the reactions he got out of your body and the things he could make you feel sometimes made you think you were living a fairytale.

But in moments like this one, with his tongue running over your nipple and his hand twisting and pinching your other one, milk oozing out of your breasts and into his awaiting mouth, you knew you weren't dreaming or imagining anything.

"Oh God" you moaned out quietly, not wanting to risk waking the baby.

Your moans did nothing but spur Lando on, the driver more determined than ever to please you out of your mind. He sucked harder on your nipple, the milk filling his mouth and making him moan out.

He was incredibly hard in that moment, his cock poking at the side of your thigh. With your eyes still closed, you reached out with your hand and wrapped your arms around his rock hard cock, feeling every vein pulsing with need against your hand.

You slowly started pumping his length, using the oozing precum as lube to lather him up. He started sucking you with more drive while you were jerking him off with a passion.

"Please, baby" Lando whimpered out, unlatching from your left nipple for a second before diving in to your right one, his hips now grinding against your hand.

You moaned out at the intense feeling of Lando sucking on your boobs, squeezing his length while pumping it faster and faster.

"Oh God" Lando moaned out all of a sudden, his grip on your boobs tightening as his hips started grinding faster against your hand before he stilled, ropes of cum painting his stomach and your hand.

You both panted, hearts beating out of your chests. Lando slowly let go of your boobs, pressing a kiss to each of them before he fell back on the bed next to you.

"That was amazing" you breathed out, making Lando nod before getting up to go to the bathroom to clean himself up.

Once you finally caught your breath, you found your discarded shirt on the floor and put it on, getting under the covers and waiting for Lando.

A minute later, he emerged from the bathroom, turned off all the lights and got under the covers with you.

"Thank you" you whispered, cuddling up to his warm body and burying your face in the crook of his neck.

"Anything for you, mama" he pressed a kiss on the top of your head, settling in bed and closing his eyes.

You both drifted off into a deep slumber, Lando happy and content as your milk kicked in and allowed him to finally get some rest.

Who knew that was all he needed?

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[zylev-blog]

“You’re late.” Danny turns around, looking at the space his nephew now occupied.

Batman frowns, then sighs. He runs a hand across his head, where his hair would be if the cowl wasn’t there. “I know, I got caught up with—“

“I’m not interested in your excuse.” He cut off Batman, “You’re never punctual anyway.”

“Mom never cared.” Batman deflected.

“Of course she didn’t. She’s a Fenton; we’re always late, it’s just part of our biology.” He crossed his arms as he tilted his head, the crown on top of his head brushing against his hair with the movement.

“Have you found her soul yet?” Batman—Bruce asked.

“Not yet. I know she’s been reborn, but I haven’t tracked it down. I’m beginning to wonder if she ended up on a different planet from ours.”

“We’ll know it when we see it.” Bruce agreed, “Until then, we do nothing.”

“Hmm.” He grunted. “How are your children?”

“They’re doing good. Damian is adjusting well. You can always meet them, you know.” Bruce offered.

“I can’t.” He denied, “Most of them aren’t blood related. Being around me for an extended amount of time would sap their life force until they were liminal. They don’t deserve that.”

“I know,” Bruce huffed, “I just wish…”

“I know, Bruce.” He put his hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “Being fully dead and the ghost king is…not always fun.” He finished lamely.

“It’s okay. You did what you could after mom and dad died.”

The air between them was sad. He wished he could say something, anything, but there was nothing left to say. As much as Danny wished he could be with his nephew’s children, it just wasn’t possible. Being the ghost king might have saved the multiverse, but the cost was that he couldn’t be around his family. The only one would be Damian, Bruce’s blood son, since ectoplasm in his veins from Jazz would protect against his aura. Bruce’s other children wouldn’t have that luxury, and he would never risk his family’s health like that.

It was a good thing Gotham owed him a favor, and she watched over them for him instead.

[cranberry-writes]

Dating Headcannons for The Boys characters!

Please send requests, i need motivation

Characters listed; Hughie, Butcher, M.M, Frenchie, Kimiko

Warnings; Mentioned drinking and cannon typical violence/language. Also i’m barely on season 2 please bear with me

Hughie;

- He’s so so sweet about your relationship

- He gets you flowers for no reason other than he saw them and thought you’d like them

- He has thousands of reminders so he won’t forget anything, from a drink you liked to your anniversary he will have it written down.

- Later on in the series he gets protective and cautious about the relationship, scared someone (homelander) will mess it up by hurting you

- He’ll probably push you away a bit to try and protect you but after you knock some sense into him he’ll be back to normal

- Loves park/library dates, going on a picnic during the summer and to the library when it’s to cold out.

- He will do so much for you (flowers, gifts, dates etc) and insist it’s nothing but will cry (happy tears) if you do the same

- Don’t get me wrong tho, he’s still a bad ass (sometimes). He just dosnt want you to think differently of him because of it, he’s hurt people, killed people, and he honestly isn’t too keen on focusing on it. Even if you two are in the same line of work.

- And if you two don’t work together he tries to keep his ‘work’ life and dating life separate, very separate.

“You’ve never told me what you do for work, maybe i could stop by and meet your co-workers.”

“Uh, actually, i don’t think that’ll work.”

“Why not? is everything ok there or something?”

“I-, uhm, work alone, so i don’t even have coworkers for you to meet really, it’s really boring infact you’d probably fall asleep just from me talking about it hahaha.”

- You find out like two days later

Butcher;

- Little shit

- I mean that affectionately

- His pet names will range anywhere from “Darlin’” to “Fucker” and i WILL stand by it

- He’ll probably introduce you to his work before he does his dog

- But his dog is the big ticket, you meeting Terror is essentially his way of proposing before proposing

- He’s protective but not in the “i’ll watch your every move” more in the “im teaching you how to use every weapon to ever exist” way

- Honestly work would probably come before you for a while before he sucks it up and actually makes an effort

- Dates will be at the most shity bar imaginable, unless he’s apologizing for something then he’ll take you to the nicest place he can and put on a suit. (it’s the Cheese Cake factory and he’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt under his jacket but he’s trying)

- Unlike Hughie he will introduce you to his work at some point, granted it would still be a while before he did but he would at some point.

- He’s sweet in his own way

“Darlin’, look what i got ya.” And it’s a Garfield shirt a size to big but you still wear it anyways

MM;

- Definition of husband material

- remembers anything and everything after being told one time

- makes you baths with rose petals and candles and all that stuff if you mention you’ve been tired lately

- Takes you out to the movies and a nice restaurant at least twice a month

- Good gods he’s sweet to you

- He knows how to cook/bake and will make stuff for you all the time

- My guy will make a meal from your culture and practice making it almost daily just to give you a taste of home.

- He really loves back massages and cuddling after a long day

- Put on some crappy reality show for background noise and nap together

- He wants you as far away as humanly possible from his work, will literally say shit like “everyone at work has the plague you can’t visit” as a joke to try and change the subject

- Chances are you won’t find out

- His favorite flowers are tulips and nothing will change my mind about it

“Baby what are these?”

“Tulips, I bought them from a street market on 11th today. They’re your favorite, right?”

“Gods, sweetheart you’re perfect.”

Frenchie;

- When you two meet you both think it’s just going to be a one night stand

-…then it’s two nights, then three, then a week, then you start spending more time at his place than your own. One day you guys just realize you’re moved in and dating

“Are we dating?”

“…Was there anything else we could be mon cœur?”

- honestly i don’t think you two would get together if you weren’t working together, or at least you were also into some shady shit

- But overall you guys have a strong relationship, one gets hurt the other kills someone, someone is hungry the other is already cooking, stuff like that

- He also cooks but it’s only french food, it’s like a super power. He can cook any french food effortlessly but literally anything else he messes up

- If you are french he’ll be super happy someone else will appreciate the same stuff in a similar way

- If not then he’ll be happy to share stuff with you, teach you some french words and tell you about stuff he grew up with

- Honestly he’s just happy someone (other than Kimiko) will listen and take an interest

Kimiko

-I have a confession to make, Kimiko is my favorite and i have a very blatant bias towards her

- Kill anyone you want bby i don’t care ill always like you

- Anyways, It probably takes you a while to get close enough to her that she’ll consider dating you

- Once y’all get to that point i don’t think you could break it tho

- I think she would like constant minimal physical contact, like hand holding or leaning on each other

- I think she’d be pretty protective over you, like someone looks at you wrong and she wants to maul them

- Learn sign language with/for her she will love it

- Draw with her, get her supplies, like those alcohol markers i’m sure she’ll love them

- Honestly i don’t think she’d be big on pet names, she wouldn’t object to it but i don’t think she’d give you one first

- Cook for her, i just think it would be sweet and she deserves it

“I got you some of those markers you’ve been looking at for a while.”

Thank you, this is nice

- Please she’s perfect i love her

[adhd-coyote]

I think if post-O66 Fox woke up having time traveled to the beginning of the war, he wouldn’t make any long term plans or strategies or even take time to write down what he remembered. He’d march straight to the Chancellor’s office and shoot him because he’s not fucking doing this shit again.

[justaz]

a spell is cast on camelot that thins the veil enough for ghosts to appear. the catch? the ghosts that appear are spirits of people that were killed by the person they’re haunting. the knights have a good amount of bandits/raiders/whatever that they took down in battle, maybe a few shady knights have genuinely innocent people that they murdered and got away with. the executioner’s killings are transferred to the king since he was simply acting out the king’s commands. arthur has quite a few. uther has hundreds of sorcerers in various states of gore and horror. those who were hanged have perpetually bent necks, those who were beheaded have either no head or just a head floating a bit above their body, and those who were burnt are more charred remains (the most grisly of them all). merlin has more than anyone expected (which was zero) and all of them keep calling out for arthur/uther’s death and camelot’s downfall while also turning to merlin and calling him a traitor.

[baelarys]

𝙎𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩

Aemond targaryen x Reader wife Velaryon

Word count: 3184

Warning: fluffy, Pregnancy.

Pt1 pt3 pt4

Autumn had arrived, bringing with it a cold wind that foretold the imminent arrival of winter. You felt the icy breeze cut through your cloak, forcing you to pull it tighter around your body. Unlike your previous two pregnancies, this one seemed to demand more of you; the weight of the life you carried within was beginning to take its toll. Your back constantly ached, your breasts were tense and sensitive, and your swollen feet barely supported the weight you had to bear.

As you walked through the castle halls, lost in thought, a sudden impact made you stagger. You barely had time to place a hand against the wall to avoid falling. As you looked down, you found Aerion on the ground, his small face lit up by a mischievous smile as he giggled. He quickly got to his feet, energetically brushing off his trousers, unconcerned by the slight reprimand he heard in the distance.

The septa approached hurriedly, a frown on her face and a look of evident disapproval. Her voice echoed through the hall as she called out to Aerion, but before she could reach him, the little prince ran toward you, clinging to your skirt for protection.

“Princess,” the septa greeted, bowing as she saw you. “The maester has insisted that you should return to your bed. Rest is the best thing for you in your condition.” Her stern gaze scrutinized the hallway, searching for the little prince who was now hiding behind you.

“That was just what I was thinking of doing,” you replied calmly, hearing Aerion’s faint laughter as he clung to your skirts.

You watched as the septa walked away down the hall, still calling out to the prince with a mix of patience and firmness. When the septa's figure disappeared from your sight, you slowly turned to Aerion. The boy looked up at you, his cheeks flushed red, still trying to contain the laughter that threatened to spill over.

You couldn’t help but smile at your son’s innocent mischief. Despite the worries weighing on you, Aerion’s joy had the power to dispel any cloud hanging over your day.

“You’re a little rascal,” you said softly, as you gently stroked his head. “But you need to be more careful, you almost made me fall.”

Aerion nodded, and his smile lit up his face, revealing that perfect blend of innocence and mischief that you loved so much in him. Still chuckling softly, he took your hand with his small fingers, his laughter fading into a sigh of contentment.

“I want to stay with you, mama,” he said softly, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

His words filled you with a warm tenderness. You knew you needed to rest, but your son’s desire to stay by your side was a request you could hardly refuse. His company, so sincere and selfless, was a comfort amidst the demanding burden you carried.

You bent down slightly to meet his eyes, looking at him with a maternal smile.

"You can stay with me for a while, but only if you promise to be quiet and let Mama rest," you whispered.

Aerion nodded enthusiastically, squeezing your hand more tightly, as if his desire to be with you was enough to protect you from any discomfort or pain. As you walked together toward your chambers, Aerion began to talk with the spontaneity of childhood, telling you about his lessons and how much they bored him. His voice, full of innocent complaints, filled the hallway.

As you closed the doors of your room behind you, you created a small refuge of tranquility, a space where you could allow yourself a respite from the worries that surrounded you. Aerion, freed from the need to stay calm, released your hand and ran excitedly to the corner where the steaming dragon egg rested on its cradle of metal and glowing stones.

However, a sudden, sharp pain shot through your body, pulling you out of the peaceful moment. The pain radiated from your back to your belly, forcing you to instinctively place your hands on your swollen abdomen in a protective gesture. Reality hit hard when you felt a warm, wet burst, and in that moment, the world seemed to stop.

The sound of your water breaking echoed in the room, like a prolonged reverberation in the silence, as the liquid spilled onto the floor, soaking the ground beneath your feet. An indescribable chill ran down your spine, as if in that precise instant, your soul had tried to leave your body, leaving you momentarily paralyzed.

Aerion, unaware of what had just happened, continued admiring the egg while you tried to gather the strength to stay calm. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus on what you needed to do. You knew there was no time to waste; the birth was imminent.

"Aerion, come here," you called, keeping your voice firm yet gentle, not wanting to alarm him.

Your son turned his head toward you, sensing something unusual in your tone. The joy on his face faded, replaced by concern.

"Mama, what's wrong?" he asked as he walked toward you with small, cautious steps.

"I need you to find the septa and the maester, quickly," you said, caressing his cheek with a trembling hand. "The baby is ready to be born."

With effort, you began to walk slowly toward your bed, each step accompanied by the increasing pain that was becoming more insistent. When you reached the bed, you took a deep breath and called for your ladies, who, upon hearing the urgency in your voice, quickly came to your side. Without wasting a moment, they moved with the precision and skill that only experience could grant, helping you lie down and preparing you for childbirth.

Their hands worked carefully and swiftly, untying the laces and buttons of your dress, changing you into more comfortable garments that would ease the birth. Despite the storm of pain threatening to strip away your calm, their gestures were comforting.

"Take deep breaths, Princess," one of the ladies whispered as she helped you settle into the bed, her voice an anchor of calm amidst the whirlwind of sensations overwhelming you.

The doors to your room burst open, and the maester entered, followed by several midwives, all moving with the speed and efficiency the situation demanded. Aerion, his face full of concern, ran to you, taking your hand in a gesture of support.

"It seems the baby has decided to come early," the maester remarked as the midwives began preparing everything necessary for the birth.

One of the midwives approached with more pillows to support your back, lifting you carefully to relieve the pressure on your belly. But the movement triggered a new wave of pain, and before you could stop it, a cry escaped your lips.

Aerion reacted immediately, his protective instinct awakened by seeing your suffering. He lunged toward the midwife, trying to push her away with his small hand.

"You're hurting her!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling, his eyes filling with tears as he tried to come between you and the midwife.

The midwife, surprised by the child's reaction, paused and looked at you with a mix of respect and concern.

"Calm down, little prince," the midwife said softly, kneeling down to be at Aerion's eye level. "We don't want to hurt your mama. We're only trying to help her feel better."

"Aerion, sweetheart, everything is okay. They’re here to help us," you assured him, trying to calm his agitation.

The contractions came in waves, each one more intense than the last, leaving a trail of pain that spread through your entire body. You gripped the sheets tightly, your knuckles turning white under the tension as you fought to contain the screams of pain threatening to escape your throat. You didn’t want to scare Aerion, who stayed by your side, his small hand clutching yours.

Suddenly, in the midst of the chaos raging in your mind, a familiar voice broke through the torment.

“Y/N,” you heard Aemond call your name.

The sound of his voice was like a balm, a wave of relief that momentarily dispelled the pain. You turned your head, and seeing him, you felt something inside you calm down. Aemond, with an expression of concern tinged with love, quickly approached your side, taking your other hand with the security and firmness you had always known in him.

“I’m here,” he said softly, his eyes locked on yours as his thumb gently caressed your cheek.

Aemond leaned in a little closer, his voice low and reassuring.

“Everything will be alright, my love. I’m here with you.”

You nodded with gratitude, thankful for Aemond’s comforting presence by your side. With each passing contraction, the pain seemed to stretch out in time, as if the hours were elongating into an endless trial. However, the maester, in his firm yet encouraging tone, finally spoke the words you had been waiting for.

“It’s time to push, Princess.”

Those words were both a relief and a new source of fear. You knew the hardest moment was yet to come, and although Aemond had been your constant support, you understood that Aerion’s presence in the room might complicate the situation even further. You needed everything to go well, both for the baby about to be born and for the child who was already the center of your world.

Taking a breath with difficulty, you turned your head toward Aemond, your eyes reflecting the mix of emotions you felt at that moment.

“Aemond,” you whispered, your voice laden with effort, “please take Aerion outside. He needs to stay calm… and so do you.”

Although it was evident he didn’t want to leave you, Aemond understood your concern. With a look that spoke of his desire to stay with you, he leaned in close, brushing your lips with a gentle kiss.

“I’ll be right outside,” he murmured, his words an anchor for your spirit. “I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

With one last squeeze of your hand, he stood up and turned his attention to Aerion, who was still watching the scene with wide, worried eyes. Aemond walked over to his son and took his hand.

“Come, Aerion. Let’s wait outside for a moment,” he said gently.

Aerion hesitated, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. You forced a smile, despite the pain, and nodded, trying to convey confidence.

“Everything will be alright, sweetheart,” you assured him. “We’ll be together again soon.”

The little one, though still concerned, finally agreed, taking his father’s hand as they both headed toward the door. Aemond gave you one last look before leaving.

Once the door closed behind them, the atmosphere in the room changed. The seriousness and focus intensified as the midwives and the maester prepared for the birth. You felt a mix of emotions—fear, anticipation, and a deep determination—all fighting for control of your mind.

The maester leaned in toward you, with a calm expression that contrasted with the intensity of the moment.

“Princess, it’s time,” he said softly, his tone firm yet reassuring. “I need you to push with all your strength.”

You nodded, mentally preparing yourself for what you knew would be the greatest effort of your life. The pain, which had been constant, became even sharper, cutting through your breath as you struggled to follow the maester’s instructions. Your hands gripped the sheets, your muscles tensing in a supreme effort as you pushed with all your being.

The midwives, with quick and precise movements, offered you words of encouragement, their hands working diligently to assist you. You could feel the sweat beading on your forehead, every fiber of your being concentrated on bringing this new life into the world. The minutes stretched on in a succession of contractions and efforts, each more intense than the last, pushing you to the limits of your endurance.

The room, though filled with activity, became a closed and private space, where time seemed to distort. The maester guided you, his words calm and measured, while the midwives supported you, adjusting the pillows and keeping you as comfortable as possible. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of pain and effort, the maester announced that he could see the baby's head.

"One more time, princess, just one more time," he encouraged, his voice filled with contained emotion.

With the little energy you had left, you gathered all your strength and pushed with fierce determination. The pain reached a climax, enveloping you in a whirlwind of sensations until, suddenly, you felt an indescribable relief as the weight you had carried for months finally left your body.

A moment of silence fell over the room, followed by the most beautiful sound you could have imagined: the strong, clear cry of your newborn. Tears filled your eyes as you heard that first sign of life, and the midwives quickly wrapped the baby in warm blankets, bringing him close to you.

"You have been very brave, princess. You have brought a new Targaryen into the world."

With trembling hands and a pounding heart, you took your child into your arms. As you felt his warmth against your chest, all the pain and fatigue faded away, replaced by a love so intense you could hardly contain it. You looked at your baby's face, his soft hair and delicate skin, and in that moment, you knew that every second of effort had been worth it.

Your ladies, discreet and efficient, quickly restored order to the room. They swiftly cleaned the area, replaced the sheets, and helped you into a clean, soft gown. Though exhaustion weighed heavily on you, their careful hands made you feel comfortable, allowing you to focus solely on the little being you held.

One of the ladies took the newborn with great care to clean him, while you rested for a few moments, watching every movement with eyes full of love and wonder. When they returned him to you, wrapped in warm blankets, a wave of overwhelming emotion washed over you.

You looked at the child in your arms, noticing his delicate features, his hair already showing the shine of Targaryen heritage.

"Laenor," you whispered, the name leaving your lips with the softness of a prayer.

It was the name of your father, a man whose memory lived on in your heart, a brave leader and a loving father. Naming your son in his honor felt as natural as breathing.

The door to the room opened gently, and when you turned your head, you saw Aemond and Aerion entering. The little boy, without paying attention to the baby in your arms, ran towards you with the urgency of someone who had been holding back his worry. Aerion threw himself into your arms, and as soon as he did, you felt the warm tears running down his face as he hid his little face in the crook of your neck.

"Why are you crying, my love?" you asked in a whisper, gently stroking his small back while leaning down to leave a soft kiss on his wet cheek. "I'm alright."

Aerion sobbed softly, his little hands clinging to you tightly, as if he needed to make sure you were really there, safe and with him.

"I was scared, Mama," he admitted in a small voice. "I didn’t want anything bad to happen to you."

"I know, my little one," you murmured. "But everything is fine now. I’m here with you, and I'm not going anywhere."

Aemond, who had remained nearby, watched the scene with a mixture of pride and relief. He stepped forward, and with a careful gesture, placed a hand on Aerion’s shoulder, silently giving him support. When Aerion felt his father's presence, he finally looked up, his eyes still shining with the tears he hadn’t been able to hold back.

It was then that Aerion noticed the small figure in your arms. His big, curious eyes filled with wonder as he saw his younger brother for the first time. With the same caution children reserve for what they consider most precious, he approached slowly, almost as if he feared breaking something fragile.

"This is your little brother, Laenor," you said with a smile full of tenderness, gently tilting the newborn so Aerion could get a better look.

The little boy gazed at his brother with a mix of fascination and respect, as if he understood that this moment was sacred. With a timid gesture, he reached out his hand towards the baby, gently brushing his tiny hands.

"Hello, Laenor," Aerion whispered, his voice barely audible.

Aemond, with a look that spoke of pride and relief, leaned towards you, his lips meeting yours in a warm and comforting kiss. The connection between you was immediate, like a reaffirmation of the strength of your bond. You responded to the kiss with equal tenderness, feeling in that gesture a deep gratitude for the family you had built together.

"Mama," a small voice was heard at the entrance, soft but full of excitement.

Vaera appeared in the room, her eyes shining with the news she had just received. She wasn’t alone; Helaena followed closely behind, with her unmistakable aura of sweetness and serenity, smiling warmly at you as she saw you cradling the newborn. Just a step behind, Queen Alicent entered with Vaerys in her arms, her elegant bearing and maternal expression completing the family tableau that now filled the room.

"Look, Vaerys," Alicent said in a gentle tone, approaching so the little one could see the new member of the family. "You have a new little brother."

Vaerys, always curious and observant, looked at the baby with big, wide eyes full of wonder. Alicent leaned down slightly to allow little Vaerys to get a better view of Laenor, while Vaera, not wasting a moment, moved closer to your side, clearly fascinated by her new little brother.

"He’s so tiny," Vaera whispered, extending a small, delicate hand to softly touch Laenor’s cheek, her touch full of affection and care.

"He is," you agreed, your voice softened by the mix of emotions that overwhelmed you. "But he’ll grow strong, just like all of you."

With a smile full of confidence and tenderness, you handed the little Laenor to Aemond, who received him with the same delicacy one would treat a precious jewel. You watched as his hands, normally so skilled with a sword, now held his newborn son with an almost reverent care. In his eye, there was a silent pride, a pride that needed no words to be understood.

Aemond turned towards his mother and sister, bringing the baby closer so they could see him better. Alicent, upon gazing at her grandson, smiled with a warmth that softened her features even more, while Helaena, with her ever-serene gaze, extended a hand to gently caress Laenor’s cheek.

Finally, Aemond returned to your side, and together, you looked at Laenor, surrounded by the love and unity of your family. In that moment, everything seemed to be in its place; the arrival of Laenor had not only brought a new life into the world but had also strengthened the bonds that tied you all together.

[r3ynah]

What's wrong with clones? what's wrong with me?

Dani was greatful for her mom, she was greatful that he was supportive and living when she first met him, and even after the fight she was happy that Danny didn't throw her away with hatred in his eyes, she would've understand it nonetheless, just imagine someone assaulting your DNA to make a copy of you? it was traumatizing or the both parties, based on experience.

But if it wasn't for Danny, she wouldn't be here at this place were she stands. It has been about 20 years since she was born, and her mom step backed from heroism and passed it down to her which she accepted with pride. Her mom deserves a break.

And without her she wouldn't be part of the Justice League, and wouldn't be meeting all this amazing people, they have loved dani and took care of her ever since she joined. and she was happy. what more could she ask for? well she was a bit lonely afterall.. and that was selfish of her, she already have her mom, her friends, what else could she even ask for?

__

Dani, Hero name Wraith, walked down the halls of the watchtower when she heard a ruckus in one of the meeting rooms, letting her curiosity get the best of her she took a peek in the room, where she found a bunch of Heroes surrounding a boy that looks a little too much like Superman. and Superman in the corner holding his head in stress? Agony? Dani doesn't know.

She stepped into the room, only for Wonder woman to notice her, She gave Dani a wave which she returned with a smile, she moved near Wonder woman in curiosity and asked: "What's going on? why's the Adults surrounding a kid?"

Wonder woman looked at her with a stare she didn't understand, before she answered. "He's a clone of Superman, we found him trying to kill the man, just last week, and this is the first time he's let out." She explained while pointing at the kid.

Dani let out a gasp of delight, "Really? Holy shit. I got to talk to the kid!" Before Diana could stop the girl she was already at the new clone's side, pushing the other heroes away.

The Clone angrly stared at the new person, infront of him. "What you'll interrogate me too?."

"What? Why would you think that?" Dani giggled as she circled the boy, her eyes darting back and forward to superman and the boy to see the similarities. "Ancients, you really look like Superman, what's wrong with you?"

"What do you mean by that?" The kid asked very confused.

"I mean you're healthy and fine, i don't get why the league is going haywire towards you." Wraith chuckled, as she floated upside down infront of the kid.

Silence embraced the room, as the sound of a steel chair echoed throughout the room.

"Didn't you hear what Wonder Woman said Wraith?" Superman walked big steps towards the two making other heroes take a step back, from the man of steel. "It's a clone."

"okay, Okay, Wait i feel i said something wrong?" Dani returned to her normal position, making sure she's not levitating upside anymore as she looked at older man infront of her in confusion. "What's the problem here?"

The room was quiet huh that was unusual with, there was a thick atmosphere that you can cut it with a knife.

"The problem? This is the problem." Superman angrily stated as he pointed at the kid, who looked ready to fight the man infront of him any second now.

"What? superman i don't get its just a clone and a child-" Wraith was cut off rudely. by the man infront of him.

"Ofcourse you don't get it, you don't get how it feels to be cloned, you don't get how traumatizing it is for your DNA to be stolen, That is not a child." Superman snapped, making Dani take a step back. "So stop acting like its a normal kid, that thing will never be like us, because its a mistake created by some lousy villain, who tried to stop and kill me, clones don't deserve love nor respect, and they certainly don't deserve families. Now Stop acting like you get it."

Silence, surrounded the room as Superman finished letting his anger out at Wraith who stared at him wide eyed confusion seen her face, she looked at her peers who only looked apologetic and those who looked down the floor and then there was batman

she shifted her gaze towards the, boy who she can see was trembling, The boy was crying. oh no. no. please don't cry.

"I get it." Wraith stated, keeping her ground, only babies cry she wasn't a baby now, she grew out of that phase.

She returned her gaze back at Superman who still was looking at her. it really looked like he didn't mean to snap at her. But that shit Hurt who knew he had it him, is this what Danny felt when he found out about her, was he in reality sick of her? no. No. Danny loved her, he said so himself.

"Wraith please no-" Wonder woman, called out trying not to get the girl in more trouble.

"No. I get it. I'm really sorry for you Superman, and how you got traumatized by some of your DNA getting stollen, I am really. But with all due respect you can't treat him like a thing, because he's a clone." Wraith spoke back, now more confident than ever. the kid perked up from this and raised his head, he was really crying.

"And what do you know about that? Wraith." Oh no Hero names, She knew she struck a nerve, Superman was back at being angry.

"What I know, is that you're right, clones don't deserve love and respect, clones don't deserve anyone because all they do is hurt and destroy." For a second everyone thought Wraith changed sides. Wraith glared at superman, he wanted her to agree with him, oh she'll agree with him alright. "Clones like me, don't deserve anything."

"What?"

Everyone in the room was shocked but to scared to speak, afraid to start something.

"Thank you, Superman. For showing me that I didn't deserve my mom, Because to be honest you're fucking right, all I did for my mom was pain and agony." Dani was now raising her voice, at the man infront of her.

"You're a clone?" Superman managed to ask, his eyebrows almost touching his hairline.

"Hell yeah, And you know what age he got me. Fourteen, He became my mom at the age of fourteen, he took care of me at the age of fourteen, he loved me like his own daughter at the age of fourteen" Wraith laughed out loud, tears threatening to stream down her face. "You know what's funny superman? I tried to also murder him, I tried to also kill my template. And yet he took me in, and said that it wasn't my fault. it wasn't my fault that i was born, It was never my fault, he comforted me as i cried to him about my other brothers who i watched slowly die and melt apart infront of my eyes, he didn't hate, he didn't isolate, he only loved and cared."

Wraith was now crying. as she gritted her teeth.

"Wrait-"

"you we're right. I didn't deserve my mom. if he had just killed me from the start, he would've been more happy and not worry about me, My mom is the kindest being in the world in my own eyes, and he'd done everything for me ever since he was fourteen." Dani looked down at the ground, with clenched hands. "I was born as a six years old, but in reality i was only two months old. it's funny how im the same age right now when my mom first had me. My body maybe 20, but my brain is 14, keep that in mind Superman."

She looked around her peers, but couldn't see anyone but her reflection in those glass walls, she's crying, she didn't want to cry. "You've been hating on that kid, but Superman let me remind you that kid." She looked at the child who was still sitting on the chair but now with a look of confusion, eyes red from crying. "Is only a few months old despite its physical appearance, you've been hating on a newborn baby, like a deadbeat dad, and that's just sad."

Dani can hear a snort in the background. She swore that sounded like her mom.

Superman looked defeated and guilty, Dani was tired she wanted to cry, in the arms of her mom, but she can't leave the other kid here, so she made a rash decision. "If you don't want him, I'll take him."

Protest engulfed the meeting room, but Dani didn't care, she passed Superman and headed towards the black haired kids, direction. "Wanna come with me?" she asked, while having her hand out for him to take.

The kid looked at her hand, before grabbing it. Dani smiled and summoned a portal, she took the kid with her, her mother's not gonna like this and she might take a break from JL a couple of months, Oh well its all worth it.

[dcartcorner]

Commission for @sieveyourtea for the fic 'Blood of the Covenant'! Thank you for the support.

[margoshansons]

Dreamfyre you’re still the mother of Daenerys’s dragons in my heart and will be until GRRM comes out of his hole to tell me otherwise

[niko-sasaki-dbd]

Honestly, the ghosts can feel other ghosts theory is very well supported, and I would like to share some proof shown during the season.

In episode 1, Charles clearly felt the other ghost (the WWI soldier, Wilfred) strangling him, he also got his face covered in that black liquid after he took the cursed mask off his face.

If ghosts could be able to play the same rules with other ghosts as they do with the living, Charles could have chosen to simply pass through Wilfred and seize the knife. However, he was unable to do so.

Also, during Episode 3, when that ghost's head exploded, Charles and Edwin were covered with the pieces of his ghostly brain, so I guess, fluids are other things that have their own rules when we talk about ghost-to-ghost interaction.

Sure these are not the prettiest of examples, but they support my point just fine. And I guess, it's good information for when you're writing... All sorts of fanfiction.

[zylev-blog]

Danny is Diana’s daughter. Well, not anymore. Danny decided he was a boy, and Diana didn’t want to burden him with the sexism of the island, so she took her son out into the world as Wonder Boy. The Justice League, who didn’t even know she had a son, was shook. Meanwhile, Danny is living his best life, getting to know the other teen heroes. That is, until some evil fruitloop named Lex Luthor kidnaps him and uses his DNA and Superman’s to make two clones. Mama Diana is pissed.

[scififettuccine]

maybe a frenchie x supe!reader? there’s not enough frenchie fics out there! like maybe they don’t get along but they’re forced to work together?

A Wild Fix: Part 1

Pairing: Frenchie x Reader

Summary: You, Wild Card, a 27 year old Supe newly signed by Vought, are recruited by Billy Butcher following an incident in Vought Tower. With the help of The Boys, you vow to destroy the corrupt system that wronged so many. But will your mission be tainted by your constant bickering with one of your new team members?

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Violence, drug use, Homelander (Obviously), mentions of drug use, questionable French

Notes: I absolutely LOVED this request. I slept on it once I saw it because I had so many ideas and I didn't know where to start...but my goal is going to be a 3-5 part series! I'm going to try my best to keep each part under 2k, maybe 1.5k each? No gender was specified in the request so I'm gonna keep it as a GN reader!

From the outside...Vought as a whole seemed like the shiny pot of gold at the end of the rainbow that every Supe had striven for since the company's creation. But you? You knew the truth. Only 24 hours into your career as a member of The Seven, you had been subjected to more violence than you expected from a group that was supposedly supposed to save people. Your first meeting with the rest of the group had gone south quickly once you questioned one of Homelanders statements, and stood your ground when he told you to back down. Before you could even blink, you were pinned against the wall, with a firm hand pressed against your neck, constricting your breathing. In that moment, you understood that being compliant was the only thing that would secure your status as living. So that's what you did, you nodded your head and said “yes sir.” Needless to say, you left that room with the fear of god, no, the fear of The Homelander, choked into you…But you knew you couldn’t sleep here. So you booked a hotel room for the night, hoping maybe the receptionist wouldn't notice the bruises on your neck.But while you walked there, tears streaming down your cheeks as you hugged yourself to keep the cool night air out of your jacket, you were approached by a man named Billy Butcher. The two of you had a lengthy conversation outside of the hotel regarding the truth behind Homelander, The Seven, and Vought as a whole. Then he made you an offer you couldn’t refuse: a chance to get back at Homelander. A chance to bring yourself justice, as well as bring justice to the others he had hurt in his desperate pursuit of ultimate power. Of course…you agreed. 

You had kept in touch with Butcher the following week on a burner phone he had given you, knowing that Vought had most likely bugged all of your personal technology…and on your next day off? You met him at a location that was unknown to you, one you would soon come to be familiar with. As he ushered you down the wooden stairs of the unknown building, you weren't met with the most reassuring of environments. Drug paraphernalia, along with various illegal weapons, and full ammo boxes littered the expanse of the rather unwelcoming looking hideout. You stopped at the bottom step and pointed to a literal stack of plastic bags containing what you could only assume was coke.

“That’s…” you swallowed, “That’s coke.” Butcher, who had been guiding you down the stairs with his hand on your lower back, laughed and shook his head.

“That’s right, love. Bags of coke.” Billy said with a small chuckle as he patted your back and stepped onto the broken concrete floor of the basement, greeting the others that inhabited the space. The first person you noticed was a rather lengthy looking young man who looked to be around the same age as you with slightly curly brown hair. Admittedly, you thought he dressed like a twelve year old. He was seated on a questionable looking couch, next to an older man with a bigger build and a darker complexion…who looked like he could snap you in half with little to no effort. Your gaze then flickered further into the room, and your gaze landed on a man who was around the same height as you. Not exactly tall…but not short either. The man in question had a buzz cut, a piercing on his left ear, and was wearing an orange and black tie-dyed shirt, along with cargo pants. He was seated on one of the tables that housed various pieces of drug paraphernalia, and was seemingly using a business card to arrange lines of coke on the back of an old phone book that sat on his lap.

“Well boys…here they are. This is Y/N L/N.” Butcher interrupted your silent evaluation as he addressed the room. He walked back to your side and put a hand on your shoulder, moving to point to the younger man on the couch. “That poor bastard there is Hughie,” he moved to the man next to him, “that's MM,” and finally…he pointed to the man sitting on the table. “That’s Frenchie.” Frenchie pulled his head away from the phonebook, white power dusted on his nose.

“Bonjour-” He said, cutting himself off with a sniffle as he wiped the coke from his nose. Oh, that's why they called him Frenchie. You narrowed your eyes, the greetings of the two other men falling on deaf ears as you looked Frenchie over. Clearly something important had been said during the duration of your staring, because you were knocked out of your thoughts by a firm nudge to the shoulder by Butcher.

“Oi, Hellen Keller! Are you up for it or not?” Butcher asked. He realized you hadn’t heard him and narrowed his eyes with a sigh. “We’re going to meet up with an info plug…You can either come or stay here with Frenchie.” You sort of just panicked and blurted out an answer, not wanting to ask any dumb questions about the info plug.

“I’ll stay…with uh, Frenchie.” You said. As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You weren’t an overly judgy person, you really weren't…but you couldn’t help but feel a bit of trepidation regarding staying alone with a man who had done coke off the back of a dirty phone book within the first minute of you meeting him. Butcher smirked when he saw the look of regret on your face.

“Right then. We’ll be back, love.” He said, gesturing for Hughie and MM to follow him out. “Make yourself at home.” With that, the three made their way up the stairs, leaving you alone with Frenchie. You took the moment of awkward silence that followed them leaving to look around the basement, your feet glued to the floor of course. The walls of the space were composed of a skeleton made of wooden posts, which were filled in with a mixture of red brick, and the same color of concrete that the floor was made of. The walls in question were littered with spray painted tags of many different colors, most of which you couldn’t read, due to the fact that they were in a different language, but they were oddly beautiful nonetheless. The lighting in the room, just a few hanging light bulbs, added to the strange ambiance of the room.

“You are Wild Card…Yes?” The silence was broken by Frenchie, who was still sitting on the table, but now facing your direction. You turned to him and nodded, albeit awkwardly.

“Yeah…Yeah. That's me. Just call me Y/N, though.” You said, trying your best to give a convincing smile.

“Y/N…” He nodded as he repeated your name, “Oui. A good name.” He looked at you for a moment, almost waiting for you to respond. When you didn't, he pursed his lips and blinked. “Remind me, Y/N…What are your powers exactly?” You sighed when he asked that. It was always strange explaining what exactly your powers were.

You were called Wild Card for a reason. While you were powerful…using your powers was sort of like playing a game of russian roulette, only with the gun pointed towards the other person. You could do a multitude of different things, along with the constant of your strength, speed, and agility. You could create different balls of explosive matter, you could manipulate and use the moisture present in the air for multiple different attacks, along with a few other niche things. The problem was…you never knew which would happen beforehand. All you could go off was the feeling you felt in your palms. You weren’t exactly the most reliable Supe abilities wise…but every one of your random attacks was extremely powerful, making you a good person to throw into the mix if things aren't going well for the rest of your team, which is why you were a valuable member to add to The Seven.

“Uhm…Have you ever played Uno before? Like the card game?” You asked. Frenchie nodded. “Well it’s kinda like when you put a wild card down in Uno, and you get to pick a color…Except you pick the color blindly.” Frenchie sort of stared at you for a moment, before he started laughing. You tensed up when you heard him laugh, but you tried to laugh along, due to the fact that you couldn’t tell if he was laughing with you or at you. “Forgive me, mon cher-” He stifled a laugh before continuing, “that is the silliest thing I've ever heard.” At that comment, you frowned, taking a step back even though you were across the room from each other.

“Silly? It’s not silly at all…I’m pretty powerful, all things considered-”

“But you just use it blindly?” He asked with a chuckle. “What happens when you want to shoot a fireball or something, but you summon a child’s teddy to your hand instead?” That ticked you off. Who the hell was he to insult your powers? He was a druggie, and didn't even have any.

“How can you sit there and insult me when you were doing lines off the back of a 30 year old phonebook when I walked in?” You asked, your words coming out a bit more spiteful than you had intended. Frenchie narrowed his eyes, but tried to shake off his anger. He wasn’t fond of fighting with people over small things, especially not when intoxicated. 

“Ah…I see…” He said with a chuckle that you could only describe as pathetic, “All Supes really do have an ego, don't they?” He asked, hopping off the table he was sitting on.

“Hey! You've known me for five minutes and you're already making assumptions about me?” You balled your fists and took an accusatory step forward. Frenchie raised a brow.

“And I’m safe to assume that you’ve already painted this image of me in your head like some sort of druggie asshole?” Damn. He got you with that one. But alas…You were too prideful to let him have the last word. You scoffed.

“Maybe I’ll change my opinions when you’ve done something other than do drugs and laugh at me.” You said with a roll of your eyes. You weren't a conflictive person…But the last few days had been long and hard, so you couldn't exactly help it.

“Ditto, mon amour.” He said, his face painted with an absolutely infuriating smirk.

“Fuck you.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest. “You know nothing about me.”

“Eh bien, va te faire foutre toi aussi.” He said, almost matter-of-factly, mocking your current stance. You didn’t speak French, but you could only assume he had said something insulting back. Well, fuck you too. You were about to spit something back, but thankfully, Butcher came walking back down the wooden stairs, an eyebrow raised.

“Everything's alright down here, love?” He asks, the look on his face a mix between suspicion and curiosity. 

“Yeah. Everything is fine.” You said, your tone strained. Butcher then looked over to Frenchie, who simply gave a thumbs up before leaning down to do another line off the phonebook. You huffed and rolled your eyes. You were too exhausted to say anything else.

The nerve of this man.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I think it's safe to say this mini series is going to be lots of fun! I love Frenchie as a character, and it was really fun to come up with a fun Supe persona for the reader! I hope you enjoyed, and stay tuned for part 2! I'm also working on a taglist form so keep an eye out for that! Adieu!

Masterlist

[kyruskumiho27]

Warnings: •none to be concerned of •fluff

Summary: Sukuna finds out your pregnant. *he knows but the old bastard wanted you to tell him🙄*

Being nervous to tell Sukuna you’re pregnant. He’s so intimidating.

You sit nervously at his right side, fidgeting with your hands as he addresses one of his servants. His voice is loud in your ears. Sneering down at the mortal at his feet.

You watch as the man shakes with fear, trying to hide your own.

What if he wants me to get rid of it? What if he gets rid of me?

Sukuna dismisses the servant, mumbling something under his breath.

He turns his attention to you, noticing your behavior. His eyes narrow as yours avoids him. Something is wrong.

He shifts closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and drawing you into his lap.

Now Sukuna may be many things, cruel, evil, a tyrant. But he’s not dumb, and he knows when something’s wrong with his pretty little wife. His long fingers curl around your cheeks, squeezing them slightly.

He forces you to look at him, eyebrows drawn.

You break out into a sweat. A bead dripping down your face. His eyes narrow further and you swallow hard.

“Kuna…” you say, as sweet as possible. You situate yourself more comfortably, staring up at him with eyes you know he can’t resist. He grunts, staring at you and waiting for you to continue. You shift again.

“What if. Hypothetically, I were to have like, a baby?”

The pink haired man stares at you, eyes unamused. Again, he’s not stupid, but he can tell your nervous. He’ll play your game.

“Hypothetically?” You nod. He shrugs.

“I don’t know. I’ve never…” he pauses. He has. He has dealt with children. But certainly not his own. Never out of affection. He’s interested to see what else you would say, so he brings his eyes back down to look at you expectantly.

“Are you hypothetically pregnant my love?” He ask.

His face is unchanging as he ask the question. He doesn’t want to reveal his true feelings. But he can see the fear in your eyes, and it makes his cold ass heart swell with both amusement and hurt.

When you nod again, he smile. But just a bit.

He leans forward, whispering into your ear.

“So am I a hypothetical father?”

You shiver, peering up at him. And nod again. This time he breaks out into a full smile, even laughing. What a cutie you were.

“I know.” You gap at your husband, eyes wide. “You know??” He smiles wider, leaning back.

How would he know? How can he know?? You just found out last week!

He scoops you up bridal style, carrying you to your shared chambers. He places you gently on the bed, crawling up next to you. Placing a hand on your stomach he stares.

“Gonna be a good mother for my child, yeah?” You smile so hard your cheeks hurt.

“N I’m gonna be a good father.” You giggle as he lays kisses on your stomach, pushing you back against the pillows.

“Such a good father.” You breath. His hands cup your waist as he moves up, then he places a firm kiss on your lips. He hums. Such a pretty lil’ thing.

Such a happy little family😋

*should I write a diff version of this? I have one, or two. An angst fic and then another fluff, but Sukunas suprised and it goes a little differently. Also has a bit of angst. Let me know in the comments🩷*

[baelarys]

Thérèse

Aemond targaryen x Reader Niece velaryon

word count : 1180

Warning : angust, Insest , Suicide, death of a minor,Mention of blood and cheese ,Delicate and explicit topics

Author's note : I born to be the mother of a girl.

Thérèse pt2

She was your everything, the reason for your joy, your greatest treasure. When Alysa was born, the happiness you felt was indescribable. He looked so much like you: her brown hair and dark eyes were a reflection of yours, and it filled you with an even deeper love.

Every day since her birth, you felt blessed. You watched each of her small gestures, her smile that lit up the room, and each babbling that made you laugh. Alysa had not only inherited your physical traits, but also your spirit, your energy, and your joy for life.

“Can you say mom?” you asked softly to the baby you held in your arms. “Mom,” you repeated in a warm, encouraging voice as you rocked Alysa back and forth.

Her big dark eyes looked at you curiously, her small mouth forming a soft smile. Each attempt of her to imitate you was another step in her development, and it filled you with indescribable pride.

“Come on, little girl, you can do it,” you whispered, bringing her face closer to yours so he could see you better. Alysa babbled something unintelligible, but to you, it was like music.

“Mommy,” you repeated once again, continuing to rock her. Alysa looked at you with those curious eyes, and even though she couldn't form the word yet, you knew she would soon.

The doors to your room suddenly opened, interrupting the moment of peace. You turned to see who it was, and found Aemond standing in the doorway. He looked visibly upset.

“My mother invited you to have lunch with her,” he said, approaching you with a firm step. "You did not go."

“I was taking care of Alysa,” you replied, without much interest, as you continued rocking the baby.

Aemond frowned, his gaze stern. “You know how important your presence at these events is to her. You can’t just ignore their invitations.”

“I'm not ignoring her,” you replied, staying calm. “My priority is Alysa. She needed my attention.”

Aemond took a deep breath, trying to control his frustration. He approached you and looked at the little girl in your arms. His expression softened as he saw his daughter, his eyes filling with tenderness.

Without saying a word, he stretched out his arms to support Alysa. Carefully, you moved her from your arms to him. Aemond cradled her gently, his fingers gently stroking her brown hair. Alysa looked at him curiously, her small fingers trying to grab a strand of her father's hair.

“Look who's here, Alysa,” Aemond said in a warm voice he rarely used, reserved only for his daughter. "Is Dad."

The little girl giggled, her little face lighting up with joy. Aemond smiled, his eyes softening further as he looked at his daughter. It was a side of him that very few saw, a vulnerability that only Alysa could bring out.

––––––––

The last few days had been crazy. Aegon's proclamation as king had shaken the foundations of the Seven Kingdoms. The news of Lucerys' death and the looming possibility of war kept everyone in a constant state of anxiety.

In the midst of the political storm, you tried to remain calm, taking refuge in the tranquility and peace that Alysa provided you.

Every morning when you woke up, you heard the whispers of the servants and the worried murmurs that spread through the hallways. The atmosphere in the Red Keep was tense, with furtive glances and hushed conversations dominating the day. Aemond, for his part, found himself increasingly involved in court intrigues, forced to take an active role in his brother's new administration.

Despite everything, your priority was still Alysa. In their small world, politics and wars had no place. Her days were filled with laughter, games and discoveries, and you tried hard to keep that oasis of happiness intact.

You spent hours with her, reading old stories, singing lullabies, and observing each of her small accomplishments with wonder and pride.

One afternoon, while Aemond was away at a council meeting, you took Alysa to the castle gardens. The sun was shining brightly, and the air was filled with the scent of summer flowers. Sitting on the grass, you allowed Alysa to crawl around as she pleased, her giggles filling the space around you.

“You're growing up so fast, my princess,” you whispered to her, watching her reach for a butterfly flying nearby. “I wish I could keep you this happy forever, away from all the chaos that surrounds us.”

Just then, you felt a presence behind you. You turned and saw Aemond approaching, his expression a mix of tiredness and concern. Seeing you and Alysa, his face softened a little. He joined you on the grass, setting aside the concerns of the kingdom for a moment.

“I needed this,” Aemond said, taking Alysa into his arms and laughing softly when she tugged at his hair. “A moment of peace in the midst of so much disorder.”

“I know,” you nodded, touching his arm affectionately. “Here, in the gardens, everything seems so distant. We can forget for a moment what is happening out there.”

Aemond nodded, looking at his daughter lovingly. “I would like to be able to offer you a better future, one without wars and conflicts. But these are difficult times.”

“We will,” you said. “We will find a way to protect her and give her a happy life.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the garden, enjoying the sun and the warm breeze. The garden became their refuge, a place where they could escape the worries of the outside world and simply be a family. Alysa laughed with every movement, her happiness was contagious and filled the air with pure and simple joy.

When night fell, you found yourself in Alysa's room, filled with toys scattered on the floor. The soft light of a couple of candles was the only thing that illuminated the gloom, creating dancing shadows on the walls. You watched Alysa sleep peacefully in her crib while you carefully folded some of her little dresses.

The silence was comforting, a pause in the tumult of the day. The candles flickered softly, casting a warm, welcoming light that made the room even more intimate. Alysa's every calm breath was a melody to your ears.

You hadn't sensed the presence of the two men who had entered the room until one of them collided with the small tower of blocks near the door. The sudden noise made you turn around quickly. At first, you thought it might be one of the wet nurses, but when you looked, you saw the faces of two men you didn't recognize.

"Who are you?" you asked, instinctively placing yourself in front of Alysa's crib. You tried to sound strong and authoritative, but your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.

The men exchanged a quick look. One of them, a tall man with a scar on his cheek. “Who is she?” He asked his companion.

“The one-eyed prince's wife,” one of the men murmured with a sneer on his face. You clung tighter to the crib behind you, feeling the urge to protect Alysa. Both men looked dirty, like rat catchers, but you knew they hadn't come just to catch rats.

“You can go,” you said firmly, noticing how the men approached you, murmuring something about Aemond under their breath. Fear hit you, but you forced yourself to maintain your composure. You decided to turn to take Alysa in your arms and escape, but at that same moment, you felt one of the men grab you by the hair, pulling you back, while a small cold knife was placed on your throat.

Terror washed over you, but you tried to stay calm. Alysa continued sleeping, oblivious to the danger. “Let me go,” you whispered, your voice shaking, your eyes locked with your captor's.

"Give us the child and we will not harm you," said the tallest, most robust man.

"No...no" you responded, trying to get away from the smaller man who was still holding you tightly.

You saw the robust man approach Alysa's crib and you felt as if your heart was going to explode "wait... I have jewelry, gold, I will give you anything, even double what they gave you for coming here" tears fell down your face. cheeks as he removed some gold rings from your fingers and extended them towards the men.

The tall man removed the thin veil that covered Alysa's crib, you suppressed a scream. Trying not to wake the baby who was still sleeping.

“guards…” you tried to scream but the man pressed the knife harder on your throat, you cried, you didn't know what else to do, you started to panic.

The tears began to fall faster when you saw how the man took your little Alysa by her arms and reached for her, causing small moans of pain from the baby.

"No!" You tried to get out of the man's grip on you but you couldn't, you felt the smaller man hit your head with the butt of the knife and threw you towards the wall which caused you to hit your head with it.

You heard Alysa crying, the sound of flesh being pierced accompanied by the sound of blood running on the floor, your stomach turned, you felt like everything was happening in slow motion, Alysa's crying stopped followed by the rough sound of a small body falling against the floor.

The man took the baby's head to put it in a small sack to leave the room followed by the smaller man.

You looked at the scene without knowing what to do until you saw the headless body of your daughter and a large pool of blood accompanying it, you crawled towards her.

“no…no…no” you repeated desperately, your throat hurt, your heart hurt and the tears came out without stopping, clouding your vision, you took the small body in your arms, bathing your fine dress in blood.

A heartbreaking scream came from your throat, your Alysa, your little and dear daughter, has been taken from you in such a cruel and inhuman way

The sound of the footsteps of some guards entering the room didn't even make you look away from the puddle that your baby's body was releasing.

“Y/N” Aemond called but you didn't turn around, you drowned in your own tears, wishing for nothing more than your own death you couldn't protect her, you were a shame. A small scream came from your throat, clinging more and more to the body you held in your arms.

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The night cold insinuated itself through the cracks of the window, cooling the already gloomy atmosphere of the room. A Week had passed since Alysa had left, leaving a palpable emptiness that expanded with each beat of your heart. The pain, far from diminishing with time, seemed to cling more tightly to your soul, as if the passing of the days did nothing but revive the memories of that fateful night.

In the oppressive silence of your room, the absence of words and human contact was a conscious choice. You had chosen withdrawal, seeking refuge in solitude to face the emotional whirlwind that enveloped you. Not even Aemond, your husband, had managed to penetrate the wall of your pain. Every time he tried to get closer, you retreated a little further, wrapped in a blanket of silence and memories.

One of the maids silently entered the room, carrying with her a tray of food that she knew beforehand you wouldn't touch. With a respectful but concerned gesture, she placed the tray on a small table next to the bed, discreetly removing the morning tray that was still intact.

"Dinner, your highness," she announced quietly, as if afraid to disturb the fragile balance of your silent contemplation. Her eyes reflected a mixture of understanding and regret at your persistent refusal to feed yourself properly.

Nodding barely perceptibly, you acknowledged the delivery with a gesture while you watched her leave with soft and discreet steps watched him leave with soft and discreet steps. Dinner remained in front of you.

Your gaze fell on the small knife next to the butter, an almost insignificant detail in the composition of the tray. You watched it for a long moment, feeling ideas swirl and fade in your tumultuous mind. Among them all, a single idea persisted, firm as a beacon in the midst of the emotional storm that enveloped you.

With trembling but determined hands, you took the knife and headed to your bed, delicately passing the sharp object across your wrist watching as blood began to flow.

You were surprised not to feel anything, you laid down carefully feeling how the liquid wet the sheet beneath you while your eyelids became heavy you didn't fight to stay awake the only thing you wanted now was just to rest.