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targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 month

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Between Fire and Stone

Daemon Targaryen/Strong!female

summary: anxious about her approaching union to Aemond, the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen seeks comfort | word count: 2.8k~ | warnings: incest, reader is described with strong features, fingering, p in v sex, arranged marriage, Daemon being a cheeky cunt

A/N: idek what I was on to write this cos I'm not usually a Daemon girlie but here we are besties. Tysm @em-writes-stuff-sometimes for beta-ing 😘 appreciate you

The cold mist nipped at the skin around her ankles, a shiver running up her spine as she struggled through the jagged rock towards the Dragonmont. Her fingers brushed against the stark stone for balance, the other holding the lit torch to light her way before her in the darkness.

It was one of her favourite things, taking a stroll through Dragonstone in the hour of the wolf. Peaceful. Quiet. Something she could have all for herself. Away from the prying of her maidservants and the overbearing boisterous nature of her brothers. Though Jace, now a man grown, still held onto those immaturities.

Yet another thing that set her apart from her siblings.

For she, only a mere year younger than Jace, was considered a woman, ripe for marriage and bearing children, whereas the same hastiness was not pressured upon him. She knew her mother had never intended to bestow such responsibilities on her, but she understood, it was inevitable. As that time loomed ever closer, she found herself roaming her home more often, as if to savour the feeling of once being a child.

Where her brothers could seek adventure with their dragons once they were big enough to saddle, her egg had not hatched in her cradle. She would not inherit the birthright of the blood of Old Valyria, yet another judgement cast upon her that only inflated her sense of belonging at her mother's side. With her moonlit hair and pale lilac eyes, each of her children could not have looked more different.

Before the incident, there existed only one other soul who could truly fathom the depths of her solitude. No dragon. Ceaseless taunts. The notion of isolation, even amongst one’s family. Any semblance of camaraderie had been extinguished the day Lucerys took his eye. That defining moment when Aemond—her uncle—seized his birthright had marked the fracture in their familial bonds. In the aftermath, her mother, alongside her new husband Daemon, orchestrated a grand scheme to mend the shattered relations, a plan that involved her betrothal to him at an opportune moment.

Try as she might, she couldn't conjure the image of herself as his wife. The thought of residing in King's Landing under his roof refused to coalesce into a coherent vision. It remained an elusive spectre, haunting her thoughts with its intangible uncertainty.

Whispers of tradition and duty echoed in the hallowed halls of her childhood, spun by the gentle tongues of Septas who spoke of the sacred rites of marriage. Tales of Lords and Ladies, of the solemn exchange of vows, and the anticipated consummation on the wedding night. Some stories painted a picture of pleasure and intimacy, of unions founded on mutual desire and affection. Others whispered of duty, of sacrifices made for the sake of one's spouse, regardless of personal inclination.

Caught in the web of uncertainty, she pondered which version of Aemond awaited her, a tender partner or a distant lord, bound by duty and tradition. The unknown loomed before her like a shadow, casting doubt upon her heart and stirring a quiet fear within her soul. She knew not what to expect, but the uncertainty itself was enough to unsettle her, to sow the seeds of apprehension in her mind. And as the weight of anticipation hung heavy in the air, she couldn't help but wonder, which path would her marriage tread, and would she have the strength to endure whatever lay ahead?

Amidst the towering peaks of Dragonmont, she sought solace in the embrace of ancient flames and the soothing hum of Vermithor's slumber. Here, amidst the rugged terrain and the ever-watchful gaze of the dragons, she found a fleeting sense of peace.

But it was not the Bronze Fury that sang to her.

“Hen ñuhā elēnī:

Perzyssy vestretis,

Se gēlȳn irūdaks…

Ānogrose.”

She felt the rush of heat at the nape of her neck. Daemon stood straight, back facing her, his voice near-matching the hum of Vermithor’s deep exhales.

“It is late, Princess.” Unlike her, Daemon remained as he dressed during the day, shown when he turned to face her, with the self-satisfied smirk on his lips. “What troubles you?” he asked.

She tried to raise her chin, but her eyes betrayed the turmoil that stirred within.

“My fate,” she said, her careful steps drawing ever nearer. "I am to be wed to Aemond, but I fear what awaits me in that union.”

Daemon hummed, as if curiously amused.

She had known no father figure since Laenor. And though she knew sooner than her brothers the truth that lay beneath the careful picture her mother had forged, since she had been wed to Daemon, he had taken practice with his own daughters and become almost a father to her alike.

She felt his eyes sink over her once before returning to her eyes.

"Marriage is a weighty matter," he said. "But is it the marriage itself that troubles you, or something more?”

She did not miss the lilt to his voice. The one, that like his eyes had done many times before, made something squeeze in her gut. A fire burning bright. A feeling that brought her shame.

He was her mother's husband.

“I cannot say exactly,” she confessed. “Perhaps it is leaving Dragonstone. Mother and my brothers. And being alone in the capital with no face I recognise with trust.”

Daemon nodded almost indistinctly, his fingers reaching out to brush a lock of hair back over her shoulder, admiring her hair loose of its usual braids. His touch sent a shiver down her spine, a sensation both familiar and disconcerting. She fought to push aside the conflicting emotions that threatened to overwhelm her, the warmth of his touch conflicting with the knowledge of their complicated relationship.

"Leaving behind the familiar can indeed be a daunting prospect," Daemon acknowledged, his voice a velvet caress, “But fret not. Within you resides the same fire that fuels your mother's resolve. Embrace it. You are as much Targaryen as any of them.”

She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks at the intensity of his gaze, at the way he seemed to see straight through her defences. She knew she should be wary of his advances, of the way he danced on the edge of propriety with his words and his touch. But there was something undeniably alluring about the way he held her gaze, about the way he made her feel desired and understood.

"Thank you, Daemon," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Your support means more to me than you know.”

Daemon's smile was a slow, seductive curve of his lips, his eyes alight with a fire that mirrored the flames of the Dragonmont.

"Ah, but my dear Princess," he replied, his voice low and husky, "you have yet to discover the true depths of my support.”

She felt her throat close up, the feeling mirroring somewhat what happened between her thighs.

What could he possibly mean?

“Do you fear it?” he asked. “The act of consummation?”

Her cheeks flushed crimson at Daemon's bold question, his words sending a jolt of both arousal and apprehension coursing through her veins.

“It… is perfectly normal, I would think,” she answered, words failing her.

"Princess," he murmured, his voice a soothing caress against her skin. "There is no shame in feeling uncertain. It is only natural to have doubts, especially when faced with such intimate matters.”

She felt he was circling her, as dragons did their targets. And felt her heart thumping in her chest.

“With Aegon, I dare say, I would join you in your uncertainty. But Aemond, on the other hand… is a different matter entirely.”

“How so?” she asked, breathing out when he disappeared out of her line of sight, his presence at her back, fingers draping past the material of her dress.

“I am afraid he may be less… forthcoming with expressing his desires,” he purred. “He may be cold, or at least that is how it may be interpreted.” Her eyes met his with bated breath as he appeared on her opposite side, closer. “He may not be so adept with the pleasures of a female body.”

She swallowed, a chill settling on her front, her body reacting thus. He remained silent, as if daring her to say what he knew was already on the tip of her tongue. So, she took the plunge. “And…you are?”

Daemon smirked smugly, and she knew she already had her answer., “What do you think?”

Her heart raced. Her mind struggled to contemplate whether she should be honest or not, for she had heard stories and rumours. She knew she was treading dangerous waters, playing with fire in the form of her mother's husband, but there was a part of her that couldn't resist the allure of his confidence, his charm, his undeniable magnetism.

"I... I suppose I never considered such matters," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the admission.

Daemon's eyes danced with amusement as he stepped closer. "Perhaps it is time you did," he murmured, fingers trailing lightly down the curve of her spine.

Her skin vibrated with anticipation as she fought to maintain her composure in the face of his overwhelming presence. She knew she should pull away, should put an end to this dangerous game they were playing, but the lure of Daemon's charm was too strong to resist.

“Mayhaps I could demonstrate and put your worries to rest,” he suggested, crossing the imaginary but daring line seemingly without fear. “Rest assured, my experience in such matters is... extensive."

Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to maintain her resolve, her body betraying her with every flutter of her lashes, every quickened breath. “But… you and Mother—”

Her lips clamped shut with the bruising of his grip in the softness of her waist, urging her back to the rocky, hard wall. Only now, when faced with the Rogue Prince, did she realise just how small she truly felt.

“Your mother is preoccupied with her own affairs," he replied, his voice dripping with a dangerous allure. "She won't concern herself with our little... indiscretion.”

The realisation sank in that she was alone with Daemon in the secluded confines of the Dragonmont, far removed from the prying eyes of the world. And yet, she still felt her lips go dry when he hung the torch and trailed his touch upon her skin where he was taking her skirts with it.

She could not hide her nerves, or the beating rush of arousal, “Bu—but… with Aemond, I must—”

The air felt warm as her skirt was rucked around her hips. She squeaked when his calloused fingers swept through her folds, ashamed to find she was affected by what he was doing to her as her slick coated them easily.

Daemon chuckled, a pleased hum in his chest that she was wet and ready, while his other hand busied with the laces of his breeches, “Sweet girl. When my dear nephew has his cock buried inside you on your wedding night, he will not know the difference.”

His words, combined with the tight circles he applied to the forbidden bud tucked between her legs, had white hot pleasure burning in her veins. Her lips were parted, but no sound came out. All she could do was look upon his pleased face with a hedonistic expression, feeling very much like they were doing something deliciously wrong but could find no reasonable excuse to cease.

“Do not look so surprised. I have seen the way you watch me. Are you not ashamed for looking upon your own mother’s husband with lust?”

The more he touched her, the more arousal he coaxed forth, the sound lewd and forbidden in the raw silence of the Draognmont. She could not answer his question without subjecting herself to further embarrassment. Even so, attempting to concentrate enough to form words as his two forefingers slid within her tight, hot walls, was near impossible. She gasped quietly, the feeling so foreign and yet not unpleasant. And like Daemon in any other scenario, while his motions were forceful, somewhat brutal, they were calculated, without effort. Like it came innately. Her hands found purchase on his shoulders, his digits buried deep inside curved towards him, stoking a fire at the hearth of her.

“Answer me.”

She nodded frantically. “Yes—I am ashamed—”

It was all she managed before the feeling began to crest, building and building as if she were climbing some great height and was about to tumble off. But she only exhaled shakily as Daemon withdrew his fingers from her fluttering, sensitive walls, using the moisture to lubricate himself with a careful caress of his manhood.

He chuckled at the wounded expression on her face. “No need for shame, Princess.”

She caught the glint of his ring as he wrung the fabric of her skirts in his fist. Her eyes widened as the head of his cock disappeared easily between her swollen folds, with no real full feeling until he pushed forward, both with hesitation and a sort of evil excitement.

Her back pressed against the jagged stone, her lips only parted to suck in air where it had left her lungs. It was a feeling she could describe very little, the sting of being stretched around him painful and yet once sheathed fully inside her, hips pushing against her own. Daemon wrapped his fingers around her fleshy thigh to tug her leg over his hip, a flash of white hot pleasure creeping up her spine. He only grunted, her slick ridges gripping him greedily without any effort on her part.

For a few moments, he stayed like that as if waiting for any complaint, but when he found none, began a steady rhythm, fingers creating crescent-moon shaped welts in her skin. He did not share in her reaction. He simply raised one corner of his lips in a pleased manner, watching her face, treating it very much as a lesson in pleasure more than anything else.

She could scarcely think with the violent push of his hips, the notch of his belt stabbing into her each time.

“My nephew does not deserve this perfect. little cunt.” He grunted from the effort. “Tell me, Princess—when he is fucking you with his narrow little prick, will you be thinking of this instead?”

Her eyes slipped shut, her head tipped back and fingers coming to her own mouth to muffle the lewd sound that threatened to come out. Her perceived embarrassment at her own enjoyment of this only seemed to motivate Daemon further, and he widened her hips with a soft nudge of his knee against her leg and groaned at the way she tightened around him.

“You liked that, didn't you?” He breathed against her face, looking briefly down between them to watch how he rooted himself inside her over and over, as if unable to believe this was really happening. “I bet he won't make you this wet. I doubt the little cunt will even know how to make you come.”

Her skirt fell from his hand as it drew down between them, and she resisted the urge to squeal when he began to apply pressure in tight, sure circles around her bud.

“You shall have to teach him those pleasures.”

Her fingers gripped his forearms tight as she climaxed, her tight, hot walls spasming around him uncontrollably. It was so utterly different to the way she had pleasured herself before. This time, the forbidden combination of Daemon stretching her open around him and the pleasure he coaxed from her with his fingers meant that this peak seemed to drain her entire body of energy. Her body feeling boneless in his hold, that if he let go, she would surely lose her balance.

A flash of fear cracked like lightning across her subconscious. Surely he did not intend to spill inside her?

He did not overstimulate her for much longer as he neared his own end. Rather, he savoured the feeling of her warmth sucking him in for just a few moments more before pulling out, stroking himself vigorously to completion, warm ropes of his spend coating her lower stomach.

In the quiet dead of night with only her laboured breathing to echo within it, she felt her eyes could not keep up with her mind as she glanced back up at him. His rapidly cooling seed began to dribble towards her thighs, swiftly covered by her skirts once more as Daemon lowered her clothing back into place. The reality of the dangerous and yet delicious sin she had committed with him began to rise into clarity.

Upon his fingers shone the damning proof of his sordid claim on her, pearly in the glow of torchlight. “What a waste. I’d have liked to see it dripping from you.

But that pleasure… I shall save for my nephew, sweet girl."

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies

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simplepotatofarmer · 3 months

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the remaining egg is doing well. i genuinely don't know exactly what day it's at, though. i think we're on day 15 or so, based on how the development looks and timing but also i'm not completely sure when the hens started sitting so it could be a day or two off.

which means, if everything works out, there will be a cluck baby in as few as three days!

#loyal talks about stuff and things #egg hatching adventures

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chao-studios · 10 months

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Babies first dive!

#sonic #sonic adventure 2 battle #chao #chao garden #SEGA #GIF #transparent chao #hero garden #chao egg #chao hatching #spectre #Roaxes

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raz-writes-the-thing · 4 months

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A Fruit So Sweet (House of The Dragon One-Shot)

Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Reader / requests are open

Summary: Daemon's noticed you before, and tonight he makes his first move.

Fic type: fluff

HOTD: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The Targaryens had always been a source of fascination for you. Their slim jawlines, and bright, white hair. They looked so… holy up there in the Sept and in the Castle, like Gods and Goddesses looking upon their subjects. They were about as close to the Gods as you could get. You often wondered how the common folk felt, looking up at them with their bejewelled necks and glinting armour.

And that wasn’t taking into account their dragons either. Great, big beasts that could block out the sun as they flew overhead. They were beautiful. When you were young, you often thought about sneaking off to the Dragon Pit, stealing an egg and waiting for it to hatch. Then you could fly away when it was old enough and go and live somewhere secluded. Or even just travel, and live where you please.

At least that way there would be no expectations on you except the ones you placed on yourself.

But you were young then, and all children had to grow up eventually.

So you did your duties, curtsied when required, learnt your needlepoint and sat through age after age of lessons with the Septors. Your only real peace was in the library or the gardens. Hidden away where you could let your legs splay like a man’s would, or hunch your back over a leatherbound book. You could be unladylike and no one would know. Or care. It was the perfect escape.

Until he started coming around, possibly looking for his own escape. He hadn’t noticed you the first few times, or maybe he just pretended not to, but when you saw him, you’d always snap back into place, sitting pretty like a lady should.

You had your book in front of your face, elbow on your knee and hand propping up your chin. You were hunched over the novel, enraptured by the tales of daring, dragons and adventure. You were so enraptured by the words on the page that you didn’t notice the arrival of another person in the back corner of the gardens until a hand was between you and the pages, raising your chin with their fingers.

Oh.

“My, aren’t you the picture of decorum,” he teased, eyes glinting with mischief. You snapped back into yourself, your brain suddenly catching up to the situation at hand. Your back instantly straightened, though his fingers lingered under your chin for another few moments. Then they were gone, taking their warmth with them.

“My apologies, my Prince,” you breathed, suddenly very aware of the heat in his gaze and the fact that you were both out here in the gardens, hour growing darker by the minute and unchaperoned. “Would you like the solace of the gardens? They’re quite peaceful at this hour, I find. Should I take my leave?”

You make to escape to the safety of the castle halls, but Daemon stops you, fingers brushing the skin of your bare arm softly to keep you from leaving and yet giving you room to run should you need it.

“Running away so soon? And without your gift, too. You wound me, my lady-“ he practically purrs, a sly grin spreading across his lips. You tear your eyes from where his fingers brush your skin, sliding up his chest and settling on his mouth.

“Gift?” You echo quietly, confusion evident in your voice. Daemon’s grin widens just a touch, almost imperceptible. Gifts weren’t common unless a courtship was underway, and the Prince had so far not shown any interest in you as far as you knew. But then, they didn’t have to. All a man had to do was woo your father to get to you. Not an easy task, thankfully, and yet… “My Prince, I-“

Daemon shushed you gently and presented you with a pomegranate from behind his back. You looked at the fruit, perfectly ripe. You’d always loved pomegranates, but they weren’t common here, and they were expensive. A frivolous expense saved for the royal family, your father would say. You’d only ever had one before on your fifteenth name day. It was a memory you cherished deeply.

Daemon arched a brow when you still hadn’t taken the fruit from him, and you reached for it gratefully. You roll the fruit in your fingers, finally meeting his gaze.

“Thank you, your Grace,” you say, a coy smile playing across your lips. You can’t help it. He is rather handsome, even if a bit older than yourself. You play at the thoughts of being his wife. His strong arms holding you at night, watching he and his dragon, Caraxes, come in after a long flight. You shake the thoughts from your mind. One pomegranate did not mean that Daemon Targaryen wanted to wed you and take you far away- no matter how much you might wish for it. “A very kind gift.”

“I’ve seen you,” he says, disregarding the praise, and you stand, putting the book onto the chair you were just inhabiting. “Hiding away. What do you hide from?”

You look over his shoulder out at the bay below. If you close your eyes, you can almost hear the water lapping at the shore. You shouldn’t be out here. You shouldn’t be having this conversation. The Court was well aware of Daemon’s reputation, and being caught out here alone would do no wonders for your own.

“I…” you fight to find the right words, not wanting to be offensive but not wanting to lie or bend the truth either. “Everything.”

Daemon doesn’t reply to that. It’s a silent request for you to elaborate, but you get the feeling he knows exactly what you’re talking about anyway.

“Do you not want to see what the world has to offer? Do you not want to fly away and live a peaceful life away from the burdens of our society? To be improper and free?”

Gods, you’d do anything to take a big bag of gold and set off somewhere else. Anywhere else. Maybe a nice villa in Quarth, or perhaps Dorne. It was true the Westerosi had a delicate relationship with the Dornish, but you’d always wanted to see the Dornish countryside. You’d read about it, of course, and had seen the painted ink artworks etched into the geography books the Septors had you memorising from the age of six, but that was nothing compared to being able to see it, to feel the sand in your fingers. You’d never even seen sand, locked up in the castle as you were.

Daemon doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t need to. The way he looks out upon the view of the bay below tells you everything you need to know. He does.

“You’ve never travelled far then?” He asks, effectively deflecting the conversation from both the topic of himself and back onto you. He was quite good at that, deflecting probing questions about his person. Daemon was a relatively private man, not that there was anything wrong with that.

You let out a rather unladylike breath and clasped your hands together around the pomegranate.

“I’ve not been past the castle gates, my Prince,” you replied sadly, eyes flitting to the castle walls below. You’d been here your whole life. It was too dangerous, supposedly, to travel far. Especially when the common folk were unhappy. Or so father says.

You do not miss the slight furrow of his brow, but it is smoothed only moments later. He takes a breath in and turns back to you.

“Now that is a shame,” he clicks his tongue. “Perhaps I should sneak you out of the castle one night and show you what fun you can have in the city below.”

Your eyes widen comically at the thought, and you find yourself spluttering at the proposition. Underneath the inbuilt horror response to the idea of leaving the castle, however, you consider what you might see if you were to accept.

Taverns and drunkards laughing and singing their songs? Market-goers scrambling for the best price on a rare fruit? Or perhaps dog fights? You knew, of course, there were also far less enjoyable things happening on the streets below, but they didn’t sit right on your mind, so you attempted not to picture them.

“Perhaps,” you reply amicably. “Though what I would truly love to see is over the Narrow Sea. Other lands…” Your smile turns upwards slightly. “Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

Daemon chuckles, keeping a close eye on you. Then here’s there, in your space, crowding you against the banisters and twirling a piece of your hair around his finger playfully.

“Would I be permitted to call on you tomorrow?” He asks devilishly, eyes glinting in such a way that tells you that he doesn’t much care what your father thinks about calling on you. All you need to do is say yes. “We could take a stroll in the gardens, or… perhaps-”

Your mouth makes a sound, and you have to stop yourself from interrupting him. The words die on his tongue and he nods his head for you to continue.

“I do apologise, your Grace,” you rush out. “It’s just… would you perhaps take me to the Dragon Pit? I should love to see your dragon.”

His expression appears familiar, as though this is a request he has heard before.

“I don’t think your father would take too kindly to me taking his eldest daughter to the Dragon Pits, my lady,” he replied amusedly, lips twitching.

“It will be our little secret,” you hush back, biting back a laugh. Daemon seems to like this, the idea of a secret between you.

“Allow me to walk you back to your chambers, my lady,” Daemon says, reaching for your book and letting the ringlet of hair go. The action sends a shiver down your spine but you allow him to do so. You thank him for the kind offer and the both of you set off towards your family's chambers.

It’s a short walk, which is a shame, but you find yourself giddy at the prospect of what the morning may bring.

When you reach your chambers, your father is waiting for you, watching the moon draw darkness through the windows. The hour is late and he was worried for you, and when he sees Daemon kiss your hand goodbye with the promise of seeing you tomorrow, his eyes narrow in suspicion.

“You won’t mind, will you, my lord?” Daemon feigns the question, knowing that as the Prince, he cannot say no. “If I call upon your daughter again tomorrow?”

Your father agrees to it, but he doesn’t look overly pleased. He’s aware of Daemon’s reputation as well, clearly.

You bid Daemon good night, thank him once again for the pomegranate and set about your routine before you retire for the evening. You do not, however, expect to get much if any sleep tonight, though.

Tomorrow you meet a dragon. Daemon Targaryen’s dragon, no less.

What more could a girl ask for?

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ineffableparents · 4 months

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Hello! ✨

Around the time me and my partner discovered your adorable comic our two (supposedly) male pigeons, Aziraphale and Crowley, layed two eggs. There was still a chance that they could be two females instead and the eggs wouldn't be fertilized BUT we woved that IF the eggs were to hatch we'll name the babies Cherub and Jay in honor of your story.

Guess what

They managed to hatch both of them on their first time trying!

These are Cherub and Jay now ❤️ Cherub is almost double the size of Jay and she's very adventurous. Jay instead is a sweet shy baby.

We just wanted to share this with you and thank you again for your beautiful story.

Also, the proud parents:

This is the very best thing I've seen this year and it makes me so happy!!! Congratulations to you and the happy parents! 😭🧡🧡🧡🧡 they're beautiful and Cherub and Jay are looking strong already!!

Also a good time to remind y'all that Crowley's nickname for Cherub is "Pidge"!

#GLOW #pigeons

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fanficsdumpomg · 4 months

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Brozone x Reader (As Parents Headcanons)

John Dory:

*John Dory always dreamed of starting a family of his own during his young adult years but after brozone broke up and him hiking/adventuring the last decade that dream seemed further and further away.

*All that changed when he met you during his travels you too had a meet cute and after some slow burn you had finally gotten together! Suddenly John Dory felt a little less alone in his life, with his brothers back you both discussed starting your family together, and while you weren't actively trying; John was excited

*Which leads you to today, when you had woken up you discovered a turquoise egg with (H/C) nesting in your hair.

*John was ecstatic when you told him, to say the least, already planning many family adventures for your family.

*During the egg's nesting cycle you will have to fight this man to hold your child, he will constantly be bringing the egg everywhere and anywhere showing them new sights and smells. Also likes showing off the egg to other trolls, Like a toddler saying look at this cool thing i made!

*His bro's got him some dad-themed merchandise i.e. coffee cup that says world's best dad, a t-shirt that says which says soon-to-be dad which he wears with pride.

*Once the egg does hatch, he is going to be emotional all day.

*Y'all have a daughter who has his skin color and your (H/C).

*John Dory and you are pretty mellow parents, you let your kid do whatever as long as they are not breaking any laws/committing genocide/murder.

_________________________________________

Spruce:

*Bruce never had dreams of starting a family of his own, he was content with his life and when Brozone broke up he was content to go find a new purpose with his life.

*And that's when he met, you! You were a troll working for Brandi on Vacay Island and when she introduced the two of you, you hit it off and formed a relationship.

*Y'all were content with your lives and not looking to add anything else in the mix but all that changed when you woke up one morning with not one but two turquoise/purple eggs with (H/C) nesting in your hair.

*Bruce was nervous, you were nervous; what if you weren't ready to be parents? But Brandi and the other vacay islanders were there to assure you that no matter what they would be there to support you and be your family in this next stage.

*You both traded off in nesting the eggs, Bruce would take mornings and noon to let you rest and you would take afternoons and evenings to let Bruce rest.

*Bruce loves talking/snuggling to the eggs during his shifts. even though the little trolls had yet to be born he wanted them to know how much he loved them and that they'd always be a family no matter what

*When the eggs hatch, y'all are going to be swarmed with two hyperactive boy babies but honestly, you and Bruce wouldn't change anything and actually start trying for more once the twins have grown a little.

*Y'all Rock those Milf and Dilf vibes

_________________________________________________

Clay:

*Clay plans his life down to the very last scenario, even during his "fun boy" days he always planned on meeting the "one" and having a couple of trollings.

*Clay and you had met when he joined Putt-Putt village, you escaped with viva during the troll's escape from Bergen town. You and him had hit it off and with a little push from Viva you two had finally gotten together

*Clay and you are married for a year before you start actively trying for trollings.

*After a couple of months you both had given up hope of having trollings, I mean the other villagers could do it so easily why couldn't you??

*However your bad luck turned around when one day after waking up you noticed a bulging knot in your hair. Two small turquoise/lime green eggs with your (H/C) were nesting in your hair.

*Clay and you were ecstatic!! So was everyone in Putt-Putt Village; your small family finally felt complete.

*Clay is super annoying during the egg's nesting period, constantly following you around to protect you, limiting what kind of work you can do, how much rest you get, and what you eat. Honestly, you're pretty fed up with this man after this.

*When you're resting, he likes to keep the eggs safe in his hair. Man is like a feral dog with a piece of meat, will not let anyone near his eggs not even Viva; he will growl.

*Finally after a long two months, you're twins finally hatched! Two turquoise girls with your (H/C).

*Clay is definitely the strict parent, those protective instincts that arose during the eggs' nesting time are amplified to 100%. You are totally the girl's fun parent. Despite the differences in your parenting the girls love and respect the both of you!

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Floyd:

*Floyd like his older brother had always wanted to start a family but that became like a distant dream after Brozone broke up, starting his solo career, and getting kidnapped by Velvet and Veneer.

*After his eventual rescue and recovery with Branch in Troll Village, he met you; a friend of Poppy's.

*Poppy saw how hard the two of you were crushing on each other and pushed the two of you together which led to your eventual dating and marriage!

*A month after the marriage, to your surprise; you had found a turquoise/red egg with your (H/C) nestling in your hair.

*You were ecstatic but Floyd was nervous. He had always wanted to have a child but what if he screwed up his relationship with them like he did with Branch.

*But after some gentle reassurances from his brothers, Poppy and Viva; he felt ready to take on this next phase of his life albeit anxiously.

*Cries every time he receives gifts for the baby, cries when he feels the egg kick inside its shell, and cries every day about how lucky he is. Man is taking all the emotions during the incubating period.

"Floyd would be too nervous to nest the egg in his hair so you would be the main nester for the duration of the incubation period.

*When the hatching day is here, Floyd is a bubbling mess. Cries throughout the entire day but those are happy tears that your baby is finally and your family is complete.

*Y'all have a healthy boy troll with your (H/C). Your baby is so chill too, rarely cries and loves to play and giggle

*As your child grows, Floyd is definitely the parent who would let the child get away with everything. You are going to have to be the rule-setter.

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Branch:

*Branch has been alone for a long time, his brothers left him and his grandma had gotten eaten trying to protect him from a Bergen. So he had a deep desire to recreate the feeling of family he had once lost.

*But you had always been by his side since you two were you and through everything so it makes sense about the major crushes you two had on each other.

*After regaining his colors, Branch finally had the confidence to ask you out and you happily accepted; (even though you loved Branch no matter what).

*Y'all dated for a couple years and then were married before he discussed wanting children with you. To his surprise and excitement, you too had also wanted to have kids.

*So began your journey of trying for little trollings.

*A year after getting married you were surprised and excited to spot three turquoise/blue eggs with your (H/C) nesting in the knot in your hair.

* Branch goes feral during the nesting time. you will have to fight/argue with him to leave the bunker because he will try to keep you down during the nesting period.

*Will growl at anyone who comes near you and the eggs; only lets his brothers and poppy (with supervision) come around and see you and the eggs.

*Branch loves to carry the eggs in his hair when you need a break. Spends time talking/reading to them and telling them how much he loves them and can't wait to meet them.

*Poppy, Viva, and his brothers throw a baby shower for y'all and while Branch cringes at the dad-themed merchandise he is gifted, he secretly loves them and wears them all the time around the bunker with pride.

*Then when hatching day comes along, Branch is in a panic. What if he wasn't a good dad, what if they hate him?? But after he sees his little trollings, those worries dissipate.

*Y'all have two healthy boys and one healthy girl.

*Branch's protective instincts go from 100% to 10000% after the trolls are born. Your children definitely have Branch wrapped around their fingers and can get anything if they look cute or beg hard enough.

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#trolls x reader #brozone x reader #trolls branch x reader #trolls john dory x reader #trolls clay x reader #trolls floyd x reader #trolls bruce x reader #male reader for Floyd and Gender Neutral for the rest

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