#i would have sworn it was my wife's post

[lanibgoode]

.

#i would have sworn it was my wife's post #but i can't find it anymore #it may have just been a post she reblogged #she doesn't remember #i already asked #it was about getting polls #so i may have accidentally told a random stranger that i hate them #😬😬😬😬😬 #I'm so sorry #I'm just incredibly stupid #😖😖😖😖😖

[sycamorelibrary754]

Happy Easter

Summary: You are three weeks from your due date, but the thought of you and Natasha missing Easter at the Barton’s farmhouse in Iowa was simply inconceivable. What will you do if your little bundle of joy makes an early, unexpected entrance?

Genre: Fluff

Pairings: Natasha x reader, Avengers x reader (platonic).

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: None

A/N: Happy belated Easter! I wanted to post this fic on Easter, but there wasn't enough time. This is part 3 of Happy Thanksgiving and Merry Christmas! I recommend reading those stories first, but it can be read as a stand-alone story as well. This was so much fun to write. I hope you enjoy it! 

"Does anyone know where the purple egg dye is?" you inquired, scanning the table as you addressed the Barton kids. "I could have sworn we had two cups of every color." Cooper and Lila were fully engrossed in the Easter egg decorating contest, meticulously crafting their designs, while Nate seemed to relish in using every color available on the table. "Oh, it's on the counter.”

You were just about to rise from the kitchen table, no easy feat at this stage of your pregnancy. It felt like yesterday when you surprised Natasha with your pregnancy at Thanksgiving in front of her family and announced to the team that they would all be aunts and uncles at Tony’s annual Christmas party. Your due date was three weeks away, but missing Easter with Clint’s family in Iowa was out of the question.

“Don’t get up, Y/N. I got it!” Nat said as she jumped up to grab the paper cup of purple egg dye behind you.

"Thanks, sweetheart," you said as Nat placed the cup on the table.

"How are you feeling?" Natasha asked as she gently caressed your cheek. "Maybe you should take a break?”

“Nat, I promise I’m okay. Come sit back down and color some Easter eggs with us,” you replied, trying to put your wife at ease. 

Natasha was looking forward to Easter, too, but she was more focused on you and the final weeks of your pregnancy. Dr. Cho had given you the green light to go, with the condition that you'd have daily check-ins by phone and go on bed rest as soon as you returned home.

"Auntie Nat, look at this!" Nate proudly showed off an egg with Natasha's symbol on it.

"Look, Auntie Nat," you echoed with a smile.

"This is amazing! Maybe I should have you design my next suit instead of Stark," she said.

"Shall we start the judging?" Clint asked as he entered the room with Laura.

"Yep, all set," Cooper confirmed.

"Just a sec," Lila said, focused on decorating her egg. "There, done."

"Where are Yelena and Kate?" Laura asked.

"We're coming!" came a shout from the living room.

"It's not a Fabergé egg, you two, come on!" Nat yelled.

"Tada!" Kate exclaimed, revealing a beautiful purple egg with green and orange stripes.

You whispered to your wife, "So that's where all the purple dye went.”

You placed your egg on the table with all the others. Pink and blue with red polka dots. Symbolic of your current anticipation over the impending arrival of your bundle of joy. You and Nat both agreed you wanted to be surprised.

“Hmmm, this is going to be a tough decision,” Clint said, stroking his chin. “As you all know, you will be judged on creativity, technique, and presentation.”

Walking back and forth in front of the kitchen table, you couldn’t help but giggle at his mock seriousness. 

“Allow me to confer with my fellow judge,” he said. After a few moments of hushed whispers with Laura, Clint returned to the group. “We thank you all for your participation. You all decorated beautiful Easter eggs. The competition was tough this year, but one egg stands head and shoulders above the rest,” pausing for dramatic effect. “The 2024 Barton Easter Egg Decorating Champion is Nathaniel Barton!” 

You shouldn't have spent so much time on the sketches!” Yelena said, slapping Kate on the arm. 

“Yes!!” Nathaniel cheered. 

“You are hereby awarded this Lindt Milk Chocolate Gold Bunny,” his father said, handing him the gold-wrapped chocolate as big as his head.

“That you will share with the rest of the family and not eat in one sitting,” Laura added.

“Aww!” Nathaniel whined. 

*^~^*

You spent the evening on the porch, surrounded by the laughter of the kids playing on the lush green lawn as the sun set over the farm. Laura served her delicious homemade Lemonade as you shared stories and reminisced about old times. The air was filled with nostalgia so vivid that you could almost reach out and touch it. Natasha sat next to you, holding your hand gently, her calloused touch a reminder of the strength and resilience she had acquired through years of training.

You were taken by surprise as you felt the baby begin to kick.

"Wow!" You exclaimed as you gently placed your hand on your belly.

All eyes turned to you. Though unspoken, everyone shared the same nervous anticipation as your wife for the approaching due date.

"Are you alright, malyshka?" Nat asked, her eyes filled with concern as she squeezed your hand.

"I'm okay. The baby is kicking. Here, feel." You said as you took her hand and gently guided it to your stomach, trying to find the right spot. 

“Oh,” Nat squeaked. “I’ll never get used to that feeling.”

“Think how I feel!” you teased.

“Move aside, sestra; I want to feel my little plemyannitsa or plemyannik.” (Niece or nephew).

Yelena playfully bumped her sister out of the way with her hip and eagerly reached to touch your stomach.

"Wow, that's amazing!" she cried out. "Hey there, little one. I'm Aunt Yelena, and I will spoil you rotten!"

"Have you two settled on a name yet?" Kate inquired.

"No," you sighed. "We just can't seem to agree. Since we both want to be surprised, it's been twice as hard to come up with two names."

"Don't worry, you'll know when you see the little bundle of joy," Laura reassured.

"This wouldn't be an issue if either of you were open to any of the names I've suggested," Yelena added with a grin.

“Yelena is not an option,” Natasha frustratedly replied.

“What about—“ 

“Neither is Alaska! That isn’t even a name!” Your wife is exasperated.

“It could be!” Yelena said. “What about—“

“Or Wolfgang!” Nat interrupted.

“You lack all originality, sestra,” Yelena berated.

^*~*^

The soft glow of the table lamp reflected off your glasses as you delved into the pages of your latest beloved read. You placed your bookmark between the pages at the sound of your wife closing the bathroom door and crawling into bed beside you.

"Did you get a chance to talk to Helen today?" Nat asked as she helped me fluff up my pregnancy pillow.

"Yeah, I did. She was glad to hear that the swelling in my ankles went down and suggested taking a warm bath to help with the discomfort," you replied, shifting to get comfortable against the pillow.

"Mmm, a warm bath does sound amazing," Natasha hummed as she settled down on her side, facing me.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you’d be joining me?” You said softly, with a sly grin and a raised eyebrow.

“Of course I would, detka,” leaning over and kissing your baby bump. 

You gently squeezed Nat's hand, feeling a wave of anticipation as your due date drew near. Thoughts of what your baby would look like and who they would become filled your mind. Would they inherit Nat's fiery red hair, or perhaps have your Y/E/C eyes? The anticipation was almost overwhelming, but knowing that Natasha was by your side made it all feel possible.

"Are you looking forward to the Easter egg hunt tomorrow?" You asked, pulling yourself out of your daydream.

Nat giggled, "You make it sound like I'm the one participating."

"Well, you might as well be. I can never tell who's more excited, you or the kids," you replied.

Natasha glanced down at our intertwined hands and then back up at you. Her green eyes sparkled like emeralds.

"I think it's because holidays in my childhood weren’t real. We filled the photo album with fake pictures and empty boxes. But this," looking around at the small details of Clint and Laura’s farmhouse, "Is real, and I’ve always done my best to help ensure that Cooper, Lila, and Nate have everything I didn’t. A carefree childhood filled with love," Natasha explained.

"You’ve done a wonderful job with Clint’s kids, Nat. They love you so much, and I know you’ll be just as amazing with our little one," you said, doing your best to reassure her. “Goodnight, Natasha,” kissing her lips. 

“I hope you're right, detka,” Nat said, kissing your lips in return and laying a hand on your stomach. “Goodnight, malen'kiy (little one).

*^~^*

The following day, you awoke to the sun shining through the window and a soft breeze that caused the curtains to dance gently on the wind. Your back was aching, and you were tired, but you were determined to make it through today. You slipped into the most comfortable maternity outfit you had. Natasha helped you with your shoes, and you both went downstairs to the kitchen. 

“Happy Easter, you two!” Clint said upon seeing you two enter the kitchen. 

You sat down at the kitchen table as Laura placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of you and Nat, along with two glasses of orange juice. The kids were already eating and arguing over who would find the most Easter eggs this afternoon. 

Yelena and Kate walked in a few moments later, clad in bathrobes and their hair disheveled. 

“Against the idea of showering and dressing before breakfast, were you?” Natasha asked.

“Kate Bishop kept me up all night with her snoring, and Lucky and Fanny woke me up by sitting on my face,” Yelena mumbled as she flopped beside you. 

“Hey, that’s how dogs shows affection,” Kate interjected.

“So, I should consider your snoring a Valentine?” Yelena deadpanned. 

After breakfast, the kids ran upstairs to prepare for the Easter egg hunt while Clint got a head start on hiding the eggs. Nathaniel insisted Nat accompany him to help find his Easter basket, but she hesitated to leave you.

“Go ahead, babe. I’m fine.” Motioning for her to follow her namesake. 

“So, how are you really feeling?” Laura asked, now that Nat was no longer in the room. 

You let out a deep sigh, “Tired and sore,” resting your head in your hands. “But this quality time with you all means so much to both of us. I can make it one more day before going on bed rest.”

Laura rubbed her hand softly on your back, “Why don’t you sit in the family room with Kate and Yelena until the fun starts.” 

“Okay, that’s a good idea. Make sure Yelena and Kate haven’t snuck into the Easter candy,” you laughed. 

Laura helped you to your feet and then began to clear the table. As you started to walk, you felt a minor twinging pain in your stomach. You winced but thought nothing of it. With the amount of shifting the baby was doing these days, you had every spasm and cramp in the book. Unfortunately for you, you were in a house full of spies, and Laura picked up your discomfort. She made a mental note to watch you as the day progressed.

*^~^*

"Look, there's one!" Cooper exclaimed, pointing at the leather seat of the tractor in the front yard. He dashed towards it, but Lila beat him by a step. "Ha! Slowpoke," she teased.

From your spot on the porch, you glanced over and saw my wife hoisting Nathaniel onto her shoulders to carefully grab an Easter egg from the crook of an old sycamore tree. 

After about 15 minutes, everyone's baskets were full of eggs. Now came the fun of opening them all. You watched as all three kids dug into their baskets, opening the eggs to find mini Hershey bars, M&M's, jelly beans, or starbursts.

Nathaniel walked over to you and placed an Orange Starburst in your hand. "Here, Aunt Y/N. I know the Orange ones are your favorite."

"Aww, thank you, Nate," you said, kissing his forehead.

As you were about to open the soft toffy candy, a sharp contraction cut through my stomach. “Aaah!” you reached for your stomach as you bent over at the knees. Much stronger than anything you had felt before.

Natasha rushed to your side. “Y/N?! Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Reaching for your hand.

"I don’t know," you grunted.

Natasha's voice quivered with anxiety as she tried to rationalize the situation. "This—this can’t be it. We’re still three weeks out," she said, her mind racing with worry. "Maybe it’s just false labor."

That was the moment when your water broke. "Oh God—" you took a sharp breath as another contraction hit.

"Okay, not false labor," Nat conceded.

"It’s okay, Y/N," Laura reassured you calmly, gently taking your hand. "Most first births are a long labor. But we’re going to get you inside, okay?"

You felt a surge of panic. "What? No, no. I can't have the baby here. I'm not ready. We had a birth plan; I don't have my overnight bag!" you started to ramble, the anxiety rising in your voice.

"You're not boarding a Quinjet now. “I'm going to call Helen,” Clint said as he started to run inside.

"What's wrong with Aunt Y/N?” Nathaniel asked.

"Nothing, sweetheart, but the baby is coming a little bit earlier than we thought," Laura said calmly as she and your wife Nat gently guided you up the steps and into the warm and welcoming embrace of the house.

"Cooper and Lila, please grab a soft, warm blanket and clean towels from the linen closet?" Laura called out to the older children, her voice steady and reassuring.

I'l boil some water and tear up some sheets!" Kate announced frantically.

"This isn't Little House on the Prairie," Yelena quipped. She looked at you and Natasha with a warm yet nervous smile. "I’ll call Mom and Dad.”

"I thought you said this was a long process?" you managed to say between deep breaths, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"Yes, but there's nothing wrong with being prepared, honey," Laura replied with a comforting smile, her hands steady as she and Nat helped you onto the bed.

Natasha gently grasped your hand and locked eyes with you. "Y/N, look at me," she said reassuringly. “You’re okay, and I'm right here with you. Let's take a deep breath together.”

You took a deep breath, trying to follow Natahsa's lead. The air came out shakily as it moved around the sharp pain of the contraction.

"Do you remember your Lamaze breathing?" Nat asked, her voice calm and reassuring.

"I think so," you replied, trying to focus on the breathing technique you had practiced during the prenatal classes.

*^~^*

Contractions came and went over the next few hours. You were thankful that childbirth was part of the first aid classes all SHIELD recruits were required to take. Otherwise, the prospect of giving birth in a farmhouse in the middle of Iowa would have been more terrifying than it already was. 

You heard the front door open and the screen shut behind it as footsteps hurriedly approached the bedroom. When you saw Dr. Cho, you just about burst into tears. 

Helen! Oh, thank goodness," you exclaimed just as another contraction began, your face twisted in agony.

"Y/N," Helen responded, rushing to your side and gently pushing the sweaty strands of hair away from your eyes. "Clint and Laura briefed me. They said that you're handling this wonderfully. Let me take a moment to set up, and then we'll check your dilation progress.”

Okay," you managed to say, catching your breath. "Where's Bruce?"

He's in Kamar-Taj with Wong. Something about ten rings? I'm not entirely sure, but don't worry, both of you," she reassured, meeting your and Natasha’s fatigued and apprehensive gazes. "I have a backup.”

Thor strode into the room, effortlessly carrying a collection of Helen's equipment that seemed as light as a feather in his hands.

"Thor? What are you doing here?" Natasha asked, clearly puzzled.

Thor glanced at your wife, then at you, then at Laura, and then at Helen.

"Hello, everyone," he said shyly. "I was, uh, Helen and I—Dr. Cho. She invited me for Easter, and we were enjoying a nice glass of Asgardian Mead when—"

"When Clint called," Helen finished. "Anyway, he's here to help, right?"

"Of course," Thor replied. "I've never witnessed a human birth before, but I've been present for the births of many Gods and am well-versed in many newborn blessings."

You and Natasha locked eyes, your nervousness quickly replaced with gratitude as you realized the significance of having another close friend by your side during this pivotal moment in your lives.

Natasha expressed her gratitude to Thor, finally breaking the silence. "We're both thankful that you're here," she said, her voice filled with sincerity. 

You nodded in agreement, silently acknowledging the sentiment.

"It's my pleasure, ladies," Thor replied warmly.

“Thor, can you bring the rest of my equipment in from the Quinjet while I check to see how far Y/N is dilated?” Helen asked.

“Sure, and do either of you need anything? He asked.

Some ice chips would be great, you said in a tired voice. “Thank you.”

“Water,” Natasha said.

Shortly after Thor departed, Yelena entered, engaging in small talk as they crossed paths in the hallway. "What's the God of muscles doing here?" she inquired.

"It's a long story," Helen responded.

"I spoke with Melina. She and Alexi are en route and should arrive by morning. At least, I think that's what she said. It was hard to hear her over Alexi's ecstatic screams in the background."

"Okay, Y/N, you've done most of the hard work in my absence. You're just about at 10 centimeters. It’s time to start pushing. You two are going to parents soon," Helen announced with a smile.

“Oh my God,” you said, looking over at Natasha. 

“Hey,” your wife said, running her hand through your hair, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” you said.

*^~^*

“Push. Push, just a little more! Come on, push for five seconds. 5…4…” Helen counted down.

Gasping for air, you exclaimed, '3-2-1 oh!!' as you fought to catch your breath.

Thor gently wiped away the sweat from your forehead with a cloth.

“You're doing great, Y/N. The next contraction should be coming in about twenty seconds," Helen encouraged, glancing at the monitor. 

“I can’t,” you cried. “I can’t push anymore, I can’t.”

Natasha reassured you, "Yes, you can, Y/N. You're so close," she reached out and firmly took hold of your hand.

“Oh God, twenty seconds, my ass!” You shouted.

Natasha screamed in pain and fell to her knees beside you as you squeezed her hand. “Fuck, detka!”

"Here, Lady Y/N," Thor said, taking her hand in his, "Give my hand a good squeeze; you won't hurt me. And when you reminisce on this moment, you will remember that a God has faith in you. You can do this!" Thor's voice was solid and reassuring, his eyes filled with genuine belief in your strength.

Your eyes shone with tears as you held Thor's hand tightly, feeling the strength in his grip while Natasha enveloped you, her arm supporting your back.

I can see the baby's head. Are you ready to push one more time, honey?” Helen asked, “Here we go, on three: 1... 2... 3!”

You let out a final scream and then collapsed back onto the pillows, trying to catch your breath. As the room fell silent, the innocent cries of your and Natasha’s baby filled the air.

"It's a boy!" Helen exclaimed with joy.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at Natasha, who was also crying. It was more emotion than you had ever seen Natasha show before.

Helen held up your son for both of you to admire. His little head was adorned with the beginnings of red hair. 

"He's absolutely perfect," Nat exclaimed with a radiant smile as she affectionately kissed your temple.

Thor carefully cut the umbilical cord, and then Helen gently passed the newborn over to Laura, who began to clean him up. 

Overwhelmed with emotion, you exclaimed, "He's so tiny! Where'd he go?"

Natasha reassured you, "It's okay. They're just wrapping him up," as she wiped away her tears. Concerned for the baby's well-being, you cautioned, "Okay, well, be careful with him. He's really tiny!”

Moments later, Laura tenderly announced, "Here he is," and placed your precious son on your bare chest, swathed in a soft blanket.

"Hi, baby boy," you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I know you."

As your voice reached his ears, his little Y/E/C irises opened, revealing a world of innocence and wonder.

At that moment, gazing at your son, you experienced a love so profound it felt as though your heart had been laid bare.

Natasha tenderly kissed his head and softly murmured, “Dobro pozhalovat' v mir, moy malen'kiy mal'chik.” (Welcome to the world, my little boy).

We’ll give you a few minutes," Helen said with a reassuring smile as she closed the door behind her. In the serene stillness that followed, the only sound was the gentle cooing of your precious newborn son.

“I can't believe he's finally here,” you said.

"I know. He’s so beautiful," Natasha said, her gaze fixed on the newborn.

"It looks like he’s going to take after his Mama," you chuckled, running your hand over the delicate red hairs sprouting from his scalp.

"Yes, but look at his eyes—sparkling Y/E/C like yours. Wow," Nat said.

You remarked, "I guess this narrows the names down, then."

Nat sighed in relief, "Thank goodness I don't have to explain to my sister why we didn't choose Yelena."

Looking into your wife's eyes, you asked, "So what do you think?"

*^~^*

A short while later, a gentle knock on the door signaled Helen's arrival as she peeked inside. "Hey, you three. I need to conduct a few routine tests, and there are some eager people outside who can't wait to meet your son."

"Please, come on in, everyone," you welcomed them.

You couldn't hold back the tears as you witnessed the heartfelt expressions on their faces as they laid eyes on your baby boy. It was as if he instantly captivated them, just as you were when you first saw him.

"Oh, my goodness," Laura exclaimed as Clint enveloped Natasha tightly. Tears glistened in his eyes as he held his best friend close.

"He's beautiful, Natasha," Yelena said, her eyes brimming with tears. "Privet, malen'kiy plemyannik," she whispered (hello, my little nephew).

"He's so cute, Y/N! Oh my gosh," Kate exclaimed as your son wrapped his tiny hand around your finger.

"He is lovely," Thor added, his voice filled with warmth. "Strong and brave, like his mothers."

Cooper, Lila, and Nathaniel gathered around you, admiring the newborn in your arms.

"Everyone," Natasha began, her hand resting lovingly on your back. "We have someone special we'd like you to meet.”

“This is Nikolai Odison Romanoff," you announced with a proud smile.

"Nikolai! What a beautiful first name," Clint exclaimed, wiping his eyes. "It suits him perfectly."

"Oh, my, Odison," Thor said wide-eyed. "Ladies, this is an honor fit for someone else. I wasn't even supposed to be here, I—" 

"But you were, Thor. You were here when I needed someone the most," you said, looking at him with gratitude. "We'll never forget what you did for us."

The God of Thunder exhaled, visibly touched by your kind words. "I'm truly honored, Y/N. Thank you," he said, kissing your cheek.

Excuse me, ladies," Helen said, "May I borrow him for a moment? We'll be right back.”

Nikolai began to cry at the loss of contact with you, and the sound tugged at both your and Natasha's heartstrings. "It's okay, little one. It's okay," Helen soothed him. 

Then, looking up at your wife, you added, "There is something else we wanted to ask. 

“Clint and Laura, we would be honored if you would be Nikolai’s godparents,” Natasha said.

“Of course!” Clint declared.

“Nothing would make us happier,” Laura added.”

The couple hugged you both in appreciation as Helen returned with Nikolai. 

“You have a healthy little boy on your hands! Born March 31st, 2024 at 7:23pm. He weighs five pounds and eight ounces and measures 16.5 inches long," she said as she gently placed your son in Natasha’s arms. "He's a bit small, but that is because he was impatient and arrived a bit early," Helen explained with a warm smile. "Nothing to worry about.”

Natasha cradled the baby in her arms, swaying gently back and forth as a soft yawn slipped from his tiny lips.

“We’ll spend the night here, but I want to bring Mom and Nikolai back to the compound tomorrow. I want to perform a thorough examination in my lab before sending you all home.” Helen explained.

"Of course, whatever you think is best," you agreed.

Natasha nodded in approval before a sudden realization struck her. "Oh, Mom and Dad! They're on their way here."

"They can join us if you'd like," Helen suggested.

"That would be great," you said. "Right, Nat?"

"Yeah, great," Natasha said, her mind racing as she tried to imagine the chaos of the Quinjet flight home with Alexi and Melina.

Yelena couldn't help but burst into laughter, fully aware of what her sister was thinking, until Kate elbowed her in the ribs.

"We'll leave you all to get some rest," Helen said. "I'll be outside if you need anything, and I'll be back in a little while to help you with breastfeeding him.”

"Thank you, Helen, and all of you, for everything," you said, feeling the exhaustion and emotions of the day overwhelming you as tears began to fall.

After exchanging warm embraces, everyone exited the room, leaving you and Natasha in peaceful solitude with your precious newborn son, savoring the tender moment.

Natasha gently settled Nikolai in Nathaniel's bassinet, a family heirloom lovingly retrieved from storage by Clint and Laura. As your little one drifted into a peaceful slumber, you both couldn't help but marvel at the miracle of life, watching his tiny chest rise and fall with each breath. It was a moment you never wanted to forget.

“Rest, detka. I'll take care of Nikolai," Nat offered, her voice filled with warmth and reassurance.

"I can stay up; it's fine. You should rest," you insisted, determined to take responsibility.

"Y/N, you've just brought new life into the world. You deserve to rest for the rest of your life," Nat chuckled, her eyes filled with affection and concern.

She settled beside you on the bed and enveloped you in a comforting embrace.

"Look at your face," Nat suddenly remarked, her expression softening with genuine admiration.

"I must look a mess," you replied, a tired smile tugging at your lips.

"No, Y/N, you look absolutely beautiful," Nat insisted, her words filled with sincerity. "I've never seen your face more radiant than it is right now.

Natasha's soft lips met yours in a tender kiss, and in that moment, you felt the truth of her words resonate deep within you.

*^~^*

The following day, Laura prepared a delicious breakfast and brought it to you and Natasha in bed. Both of you had barely gotten any sleep with Nikolai waking up every couple of hours. Despite feeling utterly exhausted, you didn't mind one bit. This weariness stemmed from the joy of caring for your precious newborn son on his very first night.

Twenty minutes later, the tranquil moment was interrupted by familiar voices outside. Natasha gently pulled the curtain back to glimpse her parents making their way up the front porch steps.

Yelena strode into the room with her arms folded and a mischievous smile on her lips. "Brace yourselves," she teased, "The grandparents have arrived.”

"Where's my little guy?" Alexi eagerly shouted as he entered the room.

"Shh!" Natasha hushed him with a grin, motioning to Nikolai nestled in her arms. "Oh, look at him!" Alexi whispered in awe. 

"Mom, Dad, this is Nikolai,” Nat said, wiping a tear from her eye.

"He's beautiful, Natalia," Melina murmured.

"May I hold him?" Alexi asked eagerly.

"Of course," you replied, carefully passing the baby to Alexi. The sight of the mighty Red Guardian tenderly cradling your newborn son made you smile.

"Hello, Nikolai. I'm your dedushka," Alexi said affectionately. "You're so adorable; yes, you are."

As he spoke, Nikolai slowly opened his eyes, and you could have sworn you saw your father-in-law's heart swell with love. 

Alexi gently placed the baby in Melina’s arms. Your mother-in-law had always been a complex and enigmatic figure. She was one of the longest-tenured widows, and her resilience made her one of the strongest women in your eyes. As she cradled your newborn son in her arms, a single tear traced its way down her cheek, revealing a depth of emotion and vulnerability that you had never seen before.

Yelena inched toward you and whispered, “He won them over faster than you did.” 

*^~^*

The next morning, Thor joined in to assist with packing while Clint hurried to the store to purchase an infant car seat for Nikolai. You were a family of two when you arrived, and you were leaving a family of three.

After a swift diaper change, Natasha placed your precious bundle of joy in his carrier. "Time to head home, Nik," you said, taking his tiny hand in yours. 

You bid farewell to everyone and securely placed Nikolai's carrier beside you on the Quinjet.

Nat smiled as she prepared the Quinjet for takeoff. Your first Quinjet ride," she said. "You're already an overachiever, moy sladkiy mal'chik" (my sweet little boy).

Your phone suddenly vibrates with a flurry of notifications.

"The team group chat is blowing up, sweetheart," you informed Natasha, showing her your phone.

Nick Fury: Congratulations on the arrival of your precious son, Nikolai! It's heartwarming to see the Avengers family welcoming the newest member. Everyone at SHIELD looks forward to meeting him and supporting you and Natasha.

Steve Rogers: Hey, Y/N and Nat, huge congratulations! I'm so excited to meet Nikolai, the newest addition to our Avenger family. 🎖️

Wanda Maximoff: Congratulations to you both! All those cliches, those things you hear about having a baby and motherhood—all of them are true. And all of them are the most beautiful things you will ever experience. I’ll drop off some food for you both in the morning. 🥰

Clint Barton: Hey, Y/N! Make sure Nikolai is securely fastened in his infant carrier. I hope he sleeps the whole way back. If he gets fussy, let Nat know to ask FRIDAY to turn on the cabin pressure stabilization. It's a feature I insisted Stark add to the Quinjet after SHIELD found out I had kids. You're welcome. 😏

Laura Barton: I know things didn't go as planned, but I'm grateful we could share in your special day, Y/N. Nikolai is absolutely beautiful! Please let Nat know that I'll give her a call tomorrow. 😊

Tony Stark: Rushman! Y/L/N! Congratulations on the arrival of your precious son. Nikolai will bring you endless joy and fulfillment and become your favorite reason to lose sleep for the rest of your lives. 😉

Pepper Stark: Congratulations! I'm so happy for you and Nat. I can only imagine how incredible it must feel to look into Nikolai's eyes and feel like everything is right in the world. Please don't hesitate to reach out if there's anything I can do to help. Sending lots of love! ❤️

Bruce Banner: I'm truly sorry I couldn't be there; I’m thrilled for you and Natasha. I can't wait to meet Nikolai! 💚

Maria Hill: Congratulations, Y/N and Nat, on the arrival of baby Nikolai Odison! I can't wait to meet the little bundle of joy and see those tiny fingers and toes. The name Nikolai Odison Romanoff is absolutely beautiful. I spoke with Thor this morning, and the honor deeply moved him. 🥹

Thor Odinson: I am incredibly grateful to have been present for the birth of your son, Nikolai Odison Romanoff. Your decision to include me in this momentous occasion is a great honor, and I want to assure you that I will always be there to support and care for all of you. The arrival of Nikolai is a joyous event, and I am committed to being a steadfast presence in his life. ⚡

Peter Parker: Y/N! Congratulations on the arrival of Nikolai! I'm so thrilled for you and Nat. What does he look like? Does he have your hair or Natasha’s? What color are his eyes? I'm already thinking about all the adventures we'll have with him. I'm going to text Nat right now. I can't wait to meet him! 💙

Yelena Belova: Give my little nephew a kiss and hug from me. Also, heads up - Mom and Dad are considering staying with you for eight weeks to help care for Nikolai. Happy Parenting! 😂

Kate Bishop: Yelena is sitting next to me, and she can't stop laughing, so I'm going to assume that everything is going well. Please give Nikolai a kiss and hug from me! 🩵

*^~^*

You and Natasha stood together at the front of the Quinjet, the hum of the engines surrounding you as the aircraft soared safely through the sky. 

“Nikolai is sound asleep. I don't think your parents have taken their eyes off our son since they got here,” turning around to see Melina and Alexi lovingly admiring their grandson. 

Nat lovingly reached for your hand. “Our son,” she repeated with a big smile.

Nat took her place in the pilot's seat and turned off the autopilot as you settled in beside her.

"Come on, Y/N. Let’s go home.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x you #avengers x reader #mcu #fluff #clint barton #Laura Barton #cooper barton #lila barton #nathaniel barton #yelena boleva #kate bishop #helen cho #thor odinson #platonic #easter

[huramuna]

firehaired, lavendereyed -- oneshot.

mean prince regent aemond x pregnant wife reader

a sequel to foxfaced, dragonhearted. it can be read as a standalone, though! its not as dark or mean as the first one and is (kinda) fluffy. thank you @echos-muses for inspiring this!

word count: 2.5k

@huramuna-fics -- follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings!

content: smut (specifics below cut), angst, fluffy, meanish aemond, prob unhealthy relationship, emotionally constipated aemond experiences emotions, reader is described w/ auburn hair, no use of y/n, not beta read, i literally went into a haze writing this there are probably mistakes, pregnancy

cloudbusting - kate bush • i bet on losing dogs - mitski

warnings: oral (f receiving), p in v, talks of choking and biting but its not in this fic, BREEDING KINK

Being the wife of a prince, a prince-regent no less, always felt like an honor. People would bow at you in the corridors, maids would bring you your favorite sweets without asking, courtiers would invite you to countless luncheons and extravagant events. It made you wonder, though– was it out of respect for your station– or out of fear for your husband? 

He was constantly your shadow now, insisting on being with you at every waking moment ever since the maesters confirmed your pregnancy. His hand would constantly be guiding you on the middle of your back, towards whatever destination you were off to. He would insist you eat more for the babe, would rub your feet and prop pillows behind your back when you both retired for the day. 

As he shepherded you into the throne room, he glanced at the courtesans and sworn lords alike– he had worn the crown since his brother fell from the sky in flames, burnt and scarred. He melded into the role like he was meant for it, as you so told him. 

‘It looks better on you than it ever did on him, husband.’

‘Careful now, dear wife. That sounds treasonous, does it not?’

It wasn’t hard to spur him on into a feral state of being lately, as he adored your body filling out, belly stretching, breasts growing as you carried his child. His, his. He was still cold, in his way, of course– that would be something you would never pull him out of.

‘Husband?’ you had mewled softly as you came back from the maester’s chambers after receiving the news. 

Aemond was sitting on the loveseat in front of the fire, one hand parting the pages of a book. He looked deep in thought, bristling slightly at being interrupted. ‘What?’

‘I’ve just come from the maester’s chambers,’ you started, walking slowly towards him like a skittish animal.

‘Why? Are you hurt?’ he closed his book with a loud snap and set it aside. ‘Come.’ he prostrated himself on the couch, legs spread slightly as an indication. 

You lifted your skirts and sat upon his lap, as you do– as he commands, usually. It was easy to know what he wanted without words. He inspected your face carefully, turning you from side to side, skin taut between thumb and forefinger. Then, the back of his hand felt your forehead. ‘You aren’t running a temperature. You aren’t sick, are you, little wife?’ 

‘N-No… I had thought so with… the issues of late.’

‘Issues? What issues?’ he pressed, his lone eye boring into you with intensity. 

‘I… ehm… have had an upset stomach– and… my…’ you blushed as you spoke. ‘My breasts have been tender.’

‘... hm.’

‘The maesters– they… inspected, thoroughly. They say I am with child… two moons.’ 

‘Pregnant. You’re… pregnant?’

‘Y-yes.’

Aemond stared at you for a long moment, not blinking. You had feared his reaction, you weren’t sure why, though. You knew your husband… liked you, didn’t he? In his own, special way. The way that he loved to call you stupid and bite you and choke you and never tell you that he loves you, except when lost in the throes of pleasure. 

‘Husband?’ you squeaked out, anxiety swirling in the pit of your stomach at his lack of reaction. Aemond was good at concealing his emotions– but you could see the pupil of his violet eye dilating like a creature in the dark.

‘Good,’ he said simply, a hand on your waist, squeezing slightly. Then, a moment of recollection came over his face and he stopped squeezing, letting his hand laze on the curve of your body. 

‘... good?’ 

‘Yes. Good. Do you wish praise for doing your duty?’ he grunted, already beginning to unlace your bodice. He wriggled it down your chemise and pawed one of your breasts. ‘Hm.’

‘W-what?’ 

‘They do seem… larger.’

He was gentle to you that night and every night after that. In touch and act alone– his words still left much to be desired.

As you both perused the throne room, approaching the iron throne, Aemond’s jaw clenched in irritation. You were well along in your pregnancy now, eight moons, and were quite round and stout, feeling all the part of a plump trout carrying eggs, trying to swim upstream– 

“Where is the chair?” Aemond barked suddenly, causing you to jump.

“T-the chair, your grace?” one of the servants mumbled.

“The chair for my lady wife, you fool. Do you expect her to stand?” He thoroughly scared the daylights out of the poor servant, who rushed off to find a chair. “Incompetent.” 

“... I pray he returns soon– my ankles are protesting this walk.” you murmured.

“If all of these prying eyes weren’t here,” Aemond whispered in your ear. “Mayhaps I’d have you sit with me on the throne.”

The thought of it sent a thrill through you, tingling all the way to the base of your spine and beyond. It was a wonderful fantasy, but you couldn’t get the logistics of it out of your head– you would certainly impale yourself on one of the unruly swords. “Mayhaps we can arrange something in our chambers after this, husband?” 

Aemond uttered a sound between a growl and a quiet moan before guiding you further to your seat, now properly prepared. You leaned back on the chair, adorned with a pillow, putting a hand over your swollen belly. 

As much as you appreciated Aemond’s… concern and vigilance with having you everywhere with him, you wished you could skip the tedious things. Your mind wondered the entirety of the session, tuning out the droning voices of the lords and only focusing on your husband’s. He sounded so powerful, commanding his lessers as if they were the sheep and he the shepherd. You didn’t lie when you thought the crown looked better on him than Aegon– Aemond was more suited towards this life. 

You know he wanted it all– the title, the crown, but not at the expense of his brother, never at his expense– so he would have to be content with what he could make for himself. That included you and your unborn child. You wished so dearly that it would be a son, a son for him to continue his bloodline, his legacy. 

Finally, the meeting ended and Aemond all but swept you off your aching feet to your rooms. He set you down on the bed and undressed you without much ceremony. “I couldn’t keep my mind off of you that entire time– if I were a lesser man… I may have not waited until our chambers to succumb to you.” he whispered, dragging kisses up from your knees, to your thighs and then your belly. 

A gentle, but calloused, hand wrought over the stretched skin. He loved touching your belly, he couldn’t get enough of it– he was a scholarly man in all accounts, secretly in wonder of the machinations of the human body and how it could vessel something like another person. He would never admit this, of course, but you could tell just by how his eye roved your form, how he took in every detail. He parted your legs, swiping a finger between your already soaked folds– as it didn’t take much for you to become feral these days, either. You had been since he suggested the idea of the throne, forced to squeeze your thighs together through the duration of the hearing to relieve some of the ache.

“So wet for me already, are you?” he hummed, gathering your slick with two fingers this time and kissing your thigh, so close, so close to your aching center.

“... y-yes, husband– you kept me waiting,” you murmured. In your pregnancy, you’d become indignant and spoiled– and he let you. “So cruel.”

“Cruel?” Aemond questioned, a brow raised. “Cruel– you know me cruel, my dear wife,” he growled, parting your folds and licking a line from bottom to top. “Cruel would be… letting you sit for hours longer on the edge and not giving it to you,” he anointed his point by roving his tongue over your pearl, eliciting a keening whine from you. “Or mayhaps, not giving it to you at all. Shall I be cruel, wife?”

You shook your head fervently. “P-please, Aemond,” you panted, the heat of the moment and your out-of-whack hormones already making you perspire, sweat beading at your forehead. You felt like a bitch in heat, every touch of him on you was like a thousand sparks from a flint, trying to light your pleasure, trying, trying– but then dying, but it was always so close, on the precipice. “Touch me– don’t tease me.”

“Hm,” he roved it over in his mind for a faux moment. “You are doing so well carrying my child, aren’t you?” 

“Y-yes, please!” 

“Mayhaps I will reward you for being a good wife, a good mother.”

“Please, my king,” you whimpered, using his title only reserved for bedplay. You wanted it bad, and he knew.

Once again, his pupil waxed and waned like the moon phases, like the ebbing and flowing tide– and then he began to feast upon you like the animal he truly was. His tongue roved over your sensitive core, suckling and nipping. Your hand flew to his hair, clenching it into your fist. He had become so expert in pleasing you with his mouth, something he only started after you became pregnant– you hoped this would stay. 

“A-Aemond, f-fuck,” you cursed, throwing your head back on the pillow, clutching his silky strands between your fingers. “M-more, your grace–” 

He lavished you like he was starved, not letting up at any point to even let you breathe– it was a constant assault on your clit, with only a few moments of relief when he caught his breath, looking up at you like the cat who got the cream, a smug grin on his face, the glisten of your essence on him. His thumb finished what his tongue started, kneading over your sensitive bud as you babbled and cried, fluttering around nothing as you came. 

You heard the sound of his belt undoing, and his hand was in yours, guiding you to his rock hard member. “Don’t you see what you do to me, hm? I quite like you round, so full of my child,” he said as he lined up with your entrance, sliding in with no resistance. “Mayhaps I shall keep you like this and we will have an entire castle full of children.” he stayed upright, hands on your thighs. You still ached for his hand around your throat, so badly– but it wasn’t good for the babe. 

He began a slow, almost lazy pace, staring down at you now as he loomed like a shadow, picking up his speed. As he sped up, he reached up and tore off his eyepatch, throwing it aside. The sapphire in his eye socket gleamed at you and you swore you could see yourself reflected into it– 

It didn’t take long for him to reach his own peak, grunting and growling, balls tightening. His hand also itched so desperately to lace around your throat like a necklace, but his hand just twitched and clawed into the sheets as he emptied himself into you. He, regrettably to both of you, pulled out and encircled himself around you, arms resting on your ribs as you were lulled to sleep by his breathing and closeness.

You awoke, not knowing how many hours later, to him speaking. “Nyke jaelagon ao emagon aōha muñnykeā's pungos.” I hope you have your mother’s nose. “Ao'll rhaenagon gūrēñare lēda iā egros rȳ izula. Iā kostilus tōma. Aōha muña kessa daor hae ziry, nyke gīmigon.” You'll start training with a sword at age four. Or perhaps five. Your mother will not like it, I know.

His head was laid near your belly, faced away from you, his hand draped over it softly. He didn’t know you were awake– he was… speaking to the baby. You could only catch bits and pieces of what he was saying– but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t a conversation for you to know. You closed your eyes once more.

–

“M-may the mother… guide me… and bless me with a son,” you murmured. “Bless us with a son, please.” you groaned as you tried to get up, your knees bruised and sore. You had been praying every day for the last fortnight as your delivery loomed closer. You feared to give him a daughter– as accompanying as he’d been during your pregnancy, you knew… you knew what he wanted. And you knew it was a coin flip to give him what he wanted.

You felt heavier than usual, finding it difficult to get back up after being down for so long– you felt a strain in your lower back, then an acute pop. A gush of wetness flowed down your legs. “A-ah– ser!” you called to your sworn sword, a member of the Kingsguard picked by Aemond specifically to be with you at all times when he wasn’t around. Presently, Aemond was taking a ride upon Vhagar. “Ser!”

“My lady?” the Kingsguard rushed in, eyes wide. “Are you alright?”

“T-the… the babe–” 

–

“Why wasn’t I notified?” Aemond growled, stalking through the corridors as he paced to the maester’s quarters. 

“Y-You were in the sky, your grace– we didn’t know how to reach you–” 

“Fuck’s sake– is she alright, then?” 

“Yes– uhm…” 

“Uhm? What? Is my wife alright or not?!” 

“Yes– she and the babe are alright.”

 Aemond fumed as he opened the doors, eye zeroing in on the maester, then you. You were mortified, crying, holding a little bundle against your breast. 

“A-Aemond,” you croaked. You were shaking like a leaf.

“Congratulations, your grace,” the maester spoke. “It is a healthy baby girl.” 

Girl.

Girl.

Girl.

You couldn’t stop sobbing as you watched his face, impassive, turn to confusion, to longing, to grief, to anger, to…. Nothing. He stared at you blankly then.

“Aemond– please– I- I prayed to the Gods every day for a son, I’m sorry,” you blubbered. “I’m so sorry–” 

“Don’t.” Aemond’s voice snapped like a whip as he walked closer. “Let me see the babe.” 

You offered the bundle to him– a baby girl. She had curls of red hair like you and lavender eyes like her father. Sensing movement and a change of presence, the baby sneezed, staring up at her father. He stared back, his expression unreadable. “Vaella. Her name is Vaella.” he didn’t ask, nor suggest. He declared. Glancing back at you, he spoke quietly. “We will just have to try again, won’t we, wife?” His tone was like a fog upon you– it was proposed like a thinly veiled threat, a promise– but then his gaze softened almost imperceptibly. You wonder if you imagined it. “Kirimvose, ñuha dōna ābrazȳrys.” Thank you, sweet wife. “Ñuha hūra,” My moon. He turned back to Vaella, whispering. “Se ñuha qēlossās.” And my stars.

–

Aemond ended up getting his heir and then some, a year and a half later. You gave birth to triplets. All boys. 

Maegon, Vaelar, and Rhaelor.

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fic #aemond fanfic #aemond smut #my writing

[krashoutluv]

Sorry 🌻 again 🪦

Wait! You’re requests are open I thought they were closed haha 😂

Soooo like 👉👈 IF… IF it would be possible … to praise AK Jason until he’s cryin 👀 and holding one another in the afterglow 🫣

(Also would he cuddle after sex. My first thought was that maybe he wouldn’t at first cause he’s overstimulated but the fact that he would let reader get close enough to have sex has me saying otherwise 🤔 ANYWAY thxxx ❤️ )

yes. yes 🌻 anon. yes.

MID WRITING THIS. NEW REVALUATION THAT JASON TODD LOVES BEING EDGED!! I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL!!

Post writing this, this is for all my people who want to see big ass men turning into a puddle while gettin’ fucked. i don’t completely know what this sentence means but its up for interpretation

Ak!Jason Todd & Crying During Sex (+aftercare)

(detailed smut, m!crying during sex, m receiving, edging, teasing, praise, praise, and more praise, m!overstimulation, cumming in hole, aftercare, FINE HE’S KINDA SUBBY HERE. )

OK POST WRITING THIS IS VERY SELF INDULGENT. i love my wife ak!jason todd.

Jasons back is against the bed his strong arms propping his upper body up to watch you. He’s glazed with sweat, eyes blown out watching you slip your hand up and down the shaft of his cock while you suck the tip of his cock; Jasons hips tense, he turns his head to the side and bites his bottom lip harshly drowning out his own moans. A rush of warm pleasure rippled down from his abdomen to his dick, letting out slurred strings of curses while he harshly grips your bed sheets. Before he could cum you stop and pull away, his head drops back at the sudden cold sensation of air around his hot throbbing cock. He’s huffing out deep breaths,”Fuck,, fuck.. do that…do that again.” His voice cracked while he spoke, messily wiping sweat from his face.

You two had been going at this for around thirty minutes every edge leaving him more of a sloppy mess then the last.

“You sure?” You asked, making sure that you weren’t overwhelming him, though still teasing at him by letting your warm breath skim his dick.

“Mhm… please.” Jason looked back down at you “One more time..” his ragged voice trailed off into soft breaths, still coming down from the last high. Your lips started pecking back around his thighs, trailing back up to his dick. You made your way up to one of his veins, slowly parting your lips to lap at it, winning a few sharp breaths out of him before trailing back to his tip. You enveloped him in your mouth and slowly sucked him off again. Out of the corner of your eye you could see his jaw drop and felt his dick twitch ,”Wait, wait, wait.” He frantically stopped you before he could cum. “Oh shit.. oh… fuck.” He quietly cursed to himself his hushed moans managing to slip past his lips.

Focusing your gaze on his blissed out state. “You okay pretty boy?” You cooed to him, Jasons gaze darted to you. you could’ve sworn his skin flush harder then it already was.

“Mmh— Yeah, just.. give me a second.” He croaked out, still trying to maintain his breathing. Mind wandering lost in his blurred pleasure. “Can you ride me?” He asked, his sharp blue eyes hazily pouring into yours.

“Are you sure? It could be a bit much-“

“-Yes.” He replied quickly, his pride bit away him, ushering out that response.

You nod and positioned your body above him, looking down at him to make sure he nodded. You sink down to his hard length and, letting out soft gasps at the feeling of his thick pulsating dick. Jasons hands shot to grip your hips and he shuddered as your warmth enveloped him. He started letting out choked out sounds and rapid breaths, his body slipped back onto your bed. “Is it too much Jason?” He quickly shook his head ‘No.’ His breathing barely slowed. You splayed your hands against his chest leaning in to kiss at his neck, purring in his ear ”Doin’ so good Jason. Love you so much.” He could’ve came from that alone.

“Start.” He choked out, a few more moments of your silky hole and praise could’ve made him cum on its own but he wanted more.

“Are you—“

“—Yes…Please. ” His eyes shot to you, full of lust and a smidge of greed he begged. He wanted more of you.

You cupped his cheek in your hand and kissed his face softly in acknowledgment. You put both your hands on his chest and started bouncing yourself on him pacing yourself faster overtime, your lewd sounds were quiet compared to the strangled pornish moans he let out. “Thats it, been workin’ so hard Jay.” you murmured to him. Cursing with each sensation of your wet skin slapping into his and the sweet praise throughout it, overwhelming feeling of pleasure shot to his dick, he just couldn’t last long like this. “Mh- ohfuck,, oh god,, fuck—“ His skin started to prickle, Jasons body tensed and his jaw slowly dropped into that pretty O shape while threw his head back and sobbed. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, his body trembled underneath you with every thick pulse of cum that came from his cock, stiffly managing to buck his hips up into your warm hole. Tears prickled from his eyes as you rocked against him through his orgasm, streaming down across his red cheeks. You praised him throughout it, ‘Just like that Jason, tell me if you want me to stop.’ ‘Look so good.’ He couldn’t stop himself from moaning and leaving nail marks on your hips in his fucked out state.

You slowed down your hips, almost stopping before Jason rolled his head back toward you, ”Keep going, faster,, again,, mmh.. mhh..” His mind was foggy, his speech was slurred and his voice was treble. “-Tell you when to stop. I’ll— oh fuck...” He was already overstimulated, not wanting to cause him pain you slowly picked up your pace until stopping at something that had him most comfortable. He continued to watch you bounce on him, letting out choked out moans and sobs. You leaned back down and started kissing him while wiping away his tears, continuing your murmurs of praise. He pressed his hand to the back of your hand while you made out with him. Pulling away to get air, ”Such a good boy.” slipped from your lips. He sloppily murmured ‘I love you’s’ against your lips. Jasons grip on your hips tightened he rolled his head back again. Definitely not lasting as long as last time, Jason started sharply panting, incoherently babbling and whining underneath you. Only acknowledgeable thing leaving his lips being, “Dont stop—M’ cumming, m’ cumming.” His body jerked and he arched his pelvis into you, Jason spilled a second load into you. He sobbed out in pleasure for the last time before his body limply sunk back into your mattress. Sweat and tears beading down his face, eyes shut tightly, whimpers leaving his chapped lips, he was such a pretty sight.

“All done?” You said, tenderly raking his hair from his face. All he could do was nod. You pulled off his dick with a moan exchanged between you two, and pecked at his lips. Wiping away the slick line of drool from his mouth before he could. He wraps his arms around you, tilting your face so he can kiss your forehead. You shuffle into a more comfortable position and start playing with his raven locs of hair.

Basking in the afterglow of it, his mind was blank, he took in the sensation of your soft skin against his and matches his breathing to yours.

“Think a pizza place is open?” You ask quietly,” It’s Gotham, there’s always a fast-food place open.” He snickered, pecking a kiss to your nose.

This is just one of those nights where he is reminded of how much he wants to live in your arms. Where for just a few moments he could forget about everything, where the sensation of you becomes the only thing that really fills his mind. The kind of night where he’d love to see you fuck up an entire box of pizza by yourself. The kind of night where trusts himself with you more then anything.

M’ SORRY THIS GOT SO SELF INDULGENT.

I NEED TO MAKE VIRGIN!AK JAY HAVE THE BEST NUT OF HIS LIFE AND BECOME A WHINING MESS WHILE HES BEGGING FOR MORE.

ITS A NEED.

#arkham knight x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #arkham knight smut #jason todd smut #red hood smut #jason todd x you #jason todd x gn!reader #arkham knight x gn!reader #arkham knight x you #red hood x gn!reader #red hood x you #|| 🪼krash responds to 🌻 anon #|| 🪼krash responds to u

[writeroutoftime]

solemn vows

pairing: rhysand x reader

summary: joined by the inner circle, you and rhys get to have your mating ceremony, publicly declaring your love to your family

warnings/tags: none - just fluff!!

words: 1k

a/n: ahhh my first rhysand fic! look I love him and feyre together, but I also love him for myself too lol! of course I'm so excited to post this, but also very very nervous!! please be gentle lol, but I'd love to hear what you think! have a fabulous day!

as promised, tagging @captainsophiestark - enjoy!

(p.s. if anyone wants to request a story for rhys, cass, azriel, or lucien, please send it my way!)

oOoOo

The stars twinkled beautifully in the deep, dark night sky, shining down on you and your family like a blessing. Images of the night Rhysand took you to a nearby temple and had you sworn in as High Lady of the Night Court washed over you like a wave of comfort.

The ceremony had been a private affair. Vows shared only between you, Rhys, and the priestess who blessed the coronation. Vows that would soon be felt by the people of the night court, and across Prythian as a whole.

Your mating ceremony, however, was an intimate affair you and Rhys wanted to share with the Inner Circle - your chosen family. The people who stood by you time and time again, rooting for your happiness. Mor, Cassian, Azriel, and even Amren had thrown so much time and effort in helping you make the vision for your special day a reality.

And so, you now eagerly waited behind a pillar, clutching your bouquet of various, violet flowers. There was no doubt in your mind this was what you wanted, and when the orchestral music began, you took a deep breath and nodded to Cassian and Azriel.

Ever the gentle giants, the two had leapt at the opportunity to be a part of the event. You knew how much it had meant to them when you asked if they would walk down the aisle with you. So much so that it had caused tears from both males, though they would vehemently deny that fact if teased by anyone else.

With the two males flanked on either side, you walked down the aisle, your knees felt just a bit weaker than they had moments before when your eyes finally met Rhys' sparkling, violet ones. The waves of love and devotion sent down the bond almost knocked you off your feet. Similar messages were sent from your end, and the watery smile Rhys offered brought you such joy.

When you reached the end, you turned first to Cassian, then to Azriel, offering both males a kiss on the cheek and a nod of gratitude. As they made their way to sit with the rest of your family, you took your place next to Rhysand in front of the priestess here to bless the union.

She welcomed the small, but mighty crowd, and began to speak. "We are here tonight, blessed by the Mother and the Cauldron, to witness Rhys and y/n declare their mating bond for all in Prythian to see. It is not something done lightly, but rather a journey these two have agreed to partake in for the rest of eternity."

She then looked upon you and Rhys, offering a small smile, encouraging you to swear your own vows to each other.

"Rhysand," you began, already furiously blinking away the tears that clouded your eyes. "I have loved you from the moment I knew you. There is not a doubt in my mind that we are meant to be together. I am honored to stand beside you as your wife, your high lady, and your mate. I swear to you I will always protect our bond, protect you. That I will cherish each day together we are blessed with, and make sure you always know how much you are loved."

You sealed your vows by slipping the simple, but sturdy, silver ring onto Rhys' finger. Bringing your mate's hand to your mouth, you gently brushed your lips over the newly placed ring, delighting at the tug on your bond in response. So enraptured, in fact, you and Rhys were only half aware of the soft sobs that came from the crowd.

Rhys' violet eyes glistened with emotion as his large hands encapsulated yours in a firm grasp. "y/n, my high lady, my mate, my wife, with this hand, I will lift your sorrows." he began, eyes only for you, releasing his left hand to raise near his face. "Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine, and I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine." he spoke, reaching out to grasp the matching ring and slip in onto your finger.

"If you both would now offer each other the wine from your chalice." the priestess said.

With almost practiced precision, you and Rhys reached out to each grab a chalice of wine. Linking arms with the other, you offered Rhys a smile before lifting your cup up to his lips as he did the same to you. As the chalices were placed back on the table, you felt a small drop fall down your face and shivered at the feather-light touch Rhys used to brush it away, only love and adoration in his eyes.

"Our High Lord and Lady have professed their vows to each other. May the Mother and Cauldron bless them for as long as they should live. May the rest of Prythian know the strength of their love as those here tonight have witnessed." the priestess declared, tying a black ribbon around yours and Rhys' hands, then offered the faintest smirk. "You may now kiss your bride."

The words were barely out of the priestess's mouth before Rhys leaned forward, cupping your cheek with his hands and pressing his lips against yours. You could feel the love pouring into your body, his lips soft, but sure. A kiss that reminded you of this beautiful, new start for you and your mate.

As the two of you pulled away, you both let out a slight gasp, looking down at your left hands. Swirls of Night Court ink adorned your left hands, a visual promise of the vows you had just declared.

"Hello, my darling wife." Rhys gazed down at you with a dazzling grin. "Let's see what fate has in store for us, shall we?

#rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand imagine #actoar x reader #actoar imagine #rita writes

[lilacsandamethysts]

Ragnvindr(s)

Pairing: Diluc x fem!Reader (she/her pronouns)

Summary: The Ragnvindr clan is expecting a new addition.

Warnings: pregnancy and mention of kids, characters expecting and becoming parents

A/N: Hi im back, hopefully i'll manage to post more regularly bc I have truly missed this (writing and posting). This is the first fic of my dad!character series bc I have a huge case of baby fever and seeing my favorites as dads satisfies my daddy and abandonment issues.

“Can you please take a seat? Boss is going to kill me if he finds out you’ve been exerting yourself.” Charles could have sworn to any archon willing to listen to his pleas that he had lost ten years from his life during this six hour shift. He was on bar duty this evening, nothing out of the ordinary, nothing he couldn’t handle and nothing he hadn’t done before. What he hadn’t done before was have his boss’s pregnant wife on duty with him. “I swear miss, you’re giving me gray hairs.” Funny, now that he thinks of it, he had heard his boss utter the same exact words three hours prior when he dropped her off, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead as he had looked at his wife worryingly. She rolled her eyes at his comments going back to cleaning the dried glasses littering the underside of the bar. 

“Barbara said that moving around would do me good. Besides,” she frowned at him, the fire burning in her eyes making it clear to Charles why master Diluc had found his match in her. “I’m feeling peachy.” She wasn’t even that far along, stomach barely showing from under her slightly loose blouse. Diluc, ever since it had been revealed that her sudden unwellness was due to her expecting their child, had become thrice as protective than he already was, barely leaving her out of his sight. Truthfully, as much as she loved and cherished her husband, being under constant surveillance was starting to irritate her. She couldn’t fault him; this was his first time going through such an experience and he was rightfully anxious. A soft hum escaped her lips at the thought of his frazzled gaze every time she shifted in her seat while they went through documents of the winery. Diluc was going to be an amazing father, she knew that from the moment she announced her pregnancy to him. What she was even more certain about was, the gray hairs he was bound to start sprouting by the end of these agonizingly long nine months.

The door to the tavern flew open and in stepped a slightly agitated Diluc, hair sticking out from his usual high ponytail he dawns whenever he works behind the bar and eyes darting all over her figure as she continued to shine the glass in her hand. His shoulders sagged slightly in relief upon seeing her in one piece. With a sigh he shed the heavy layers on his shoulders before walking behind the bar, peking her cheek once with a hand resting on the slight bump of her stomach. 

“Why are you up? Again.” He said, a serious expression engraved on his features, brows furrowing when she simply hummed in response. He sighed again, rubbing at his temples before kissing her cheek again and reaching for one of her glasses. “You two are going to be the death of me.” 

“And they haven’t even been born yet.” She giggled again, leaning into his side, head tilting so it rests securely on his shoulder. Instinctively, he leaned closer, cheek smooshed on her hairline. “Imagine the terror once they start walking or even worse, running.” She swears she could already see the dark circles forming under his eyes which only made her laugh harder. The shift went by calmly with the tavern not being at its highest customer rate. They even got the chance to close up earlier than usual and make it back to the manner before midnight. Once inside, Diluc helped her hang her coat-even though she whined about being capable of doing it herself- and then led her to the kitchen where their dinner awaited them on the counter. Adelinde had taken it upon herself to teach both her masters the art of healthy nutrition; she had tried twice before in the past but they both were too stubborn and drowning in work to keep up a healthy diet, now with a child on the way they were more than willing to listen to her advice. 

Taking a seat side by side they dug in, emptying their plates in a matter of minutes with not even a peep leaving their lips until they were both done. Diluc brought her chair closer to his own, one arm draped over her shoulders while the other traced patterns on the fabric of her shirt absentmindedly, an action he seemed to be doing more and more each day. He had developed a habit of touching her in some way no matter the time or place or who was with them; whether it be his hand on the small of her back or his warm palm engulfing her own, an arm around her waist or merely their pinkies linked, Diluc couldn’t seem to let go of her no matter what. The citizens of Mondstadt would swoon at his blatant displays of affection, eyes full of unfathomable softness whenever they saw the soon to be parents on a stroll through the busy streets. There were still those select few who side eyed the couple -mostly her-, those whose jealousy shown through the happy facade, who sometimes didn’t even hide their displeasure at the fact that the informant who had managed to take Master DIluc off the market a few years prior was now securing her spot further with the birth of an heir. The Ragnvindrs merely scoffed at their sly comments and back handed compliments, Diluc usually making a mental note to have a word with the Knights about their insolent behavior. 

“Our baby is the size of a sweet potato.” She softly broke the silence, hand gently resting on the small sweet potato sized bump. “And in about four weeks they’ll be as big as a pomegranate.” Diluc couldn’t help but place his hand over hers, running his thumb over her knuckles before kissing the crown of her head. 

“Barbara sure has a weird way of measuring the weeks of pregnancy.” He unlatched himself from her, hand still resting over her own, as he examined the curve of her stomach trying and failing to imagine a sweet potato sized baby. Eyebrows scrunched in concentration, he failed to notice the pure disbelief written on his wife’s face. 

“Are…are you trying to actually imagine a sweet potato?” He looked at her sheepishly for a moment, big red eyes filled with nothing but serenity. Laughter echoed through the empty halls as she burst out into a fit of snorts making Diluc join her after a moment. Once calm, he brought her unbelievably close, kissing the tip of her nose before tucking her head in the crook of his neck and letting his eyelids fall shut. 

“I love you.” 

BONUS: 

The sun was at its highest when Katheryn spotted the family enter the city. The edges of her eyes crinkled as she nodded in acknowledgement at Master Diluc, red hair a mess from the strong winds of the city of freedom. Even worse was the mop of red hair in his arms as his daughter played with the ruby pendant around his neck, completely ignoring her hair obscuring her fathers’ vision. Turning around, they waited for their counterparts to catch up as the lady of house Ragnvindr strode up the steps, another mop of red hair in her arms in the form of a little boy this time, fast asleep while clutching his mothers’ blouse.

#master diluc #diluc fluff #genshin diluc #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact #dad!diluc x reader #dad diluc #diluc x pregnant!reader #genshin impact x reader

[feyhunter78]

The Despair of a Dragon's Wife

Description: After the birth of you and Aemond's son, you fall into a deep despair and rumors begin to fly regarding your son's parentage.

This was requested on my AO3 and I wanted to post it here as well! TW: Postpartum depression, suicidal thoughts and actions, but no death or injury

You loved your son, you truly did, but the sight of him reminded you of the pain you suffered, and his cries were like nails driven into your brain, reminding you of how much of a failure you were. His hair was (y/h/c) not silver and his eyes were a shade of purple that could easily be mistaken for blue, worst of all his dragon egg had yet to hatch.

You knew your sweet Rhagar simply wished to be with you, to feel your love, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hold him for more than a few minutes. Your mind constantly reminding you that he was not as Targaryen as the others, he would suffer the mistreatment bastards do, even though he is his father’s son. You have failed him, failed your family, and failed Aemond.

Aemond had been so excited for your child, speaking constantly of them, making you promise after promise of what he would provide for you both. Then, once the midwives announced you had birthed a son, he broke into joyous laughter, surprising even his own mother.

But then you were handed your son and saw the tuft of (y/h/c) hair, the muddled color of his eyes, and you knew you had failed. You had wept, and refused to be consoled, claiming they were tears of joy.

Breastfeeding was a struggle and after many attempts and gritted teeth you surrendered Rhagar to a wetnurse, tears in your eyes as you watched him calm so quickly for her. Nothing you did was ever enough for your son, he cried constantly, pulled at your hair, squirmed nonstop and refused to sleep through the night.

Your mother had stressed the importance of keeping your babe with you at night, especially since you had now birthed a potential heir to the throne. She worried someone would harm him, and you worried that perhaps that person would be you.

Sleep had fled from you, your appetite as well, music was dull and lifeless, sewing and reading no longer brought you joy. Weeks went by of you lying awake as Rhagar tossed and turned. Then it turned into months of you staring listlessly at the wall as you bounced him in your arms, silently begging him to cease his crying.

Oddly enough, it was your sworn sword, Ser Halbret, who was able to dry the tears of your son.

After hours of trying to calm your son, on the verge of tears yourself, you handed the screaming child off to him, and drifted back to your chambers. You curled up into a ball under the covers of your bed, crying silently, heart weighed down with endless misery.

You’d finally been able to drift off to sleep when the door to your chamber opened and the sound of giggling was followed by your husband’s voice.

“My sweet wife, I have found our little dragon.” Aemond called, voice light as he stepped closer to the bed.

You quickly wiped your tears, and tried to force a smile, but the sound of Rhagar calling out to you made another wave surface. You threw off the covers and rushed into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

Aemond knocked on the door. “Y/N, are you alright? Rhagar wishes to see you.”

You slumped against the door; head buried in your arms. “Give me a moment, my stomach is a bit unsettled.”

Rhaegar began to cry, and you heard Aemond gently reassure him that you would be out soon.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Your eyes searched the room for something, anything to end your agony, but you found nothing. “If you cannot get him to stop, give him to Ser Halbret, he loves him.” You called through the door.

“Surely not more than he loves his mother.” Aemond said, trying the doorknob once more, concern tainting his voice.

“He does not love me.” You mumbled, tears streaming down your face as you dug your nails into your palms, searching for relief from the aching in your head and chest.

“Y/N, my sweet, open the door.” He insisted, as Rhagar’s cries grew in volume.

“Go away.” You cried, slamming your hand against the door, red streaks coloring the wood. You’d pressed too hard and punctured the skin.

You stared at the smeared crimson blood and prayed Aemond would leave.

Aemond carried his son to his mother’s quarters, mind clouded with worry. You had been distant as of late, and your figure had begun to decrease a worrying amount.

At first, he thought you were too wrapped up in your son to eat properly. Then he noticed how you flinched when Rhagar cried, or how you were so quick to hand him off to your sworn sword, and flee the room.

His mother looked up, a bright smile on her face. “Aemond, and little Rhaegar, what a wonderful surprise. I was just speaking with your grandsire about our worries for y/n.”

Aemond sat across from his grandsire, keeping Rhagar firmly in his arms. “I have come to see you for the same reason, I fear she is ill.”

“The only thing she is sick with, is guilt.” His grandsire said, casting a disgusted look at Rhagar.

“Guilt?” He echoed, searching his mind for anything you might feel guilty over. You had borne him a beautiful and sweet-tempered son, were a devoted and wonderful wife, and a dedicated mother. There was no reason for you to feel guilty.

Alicent took his hand in hers, her expression sorrowful. “Your grandsire believes that…” She trailed off, her lips pressed into a hard line. “I cannot say it.”

“That boy is a bastard. Look at him, that is no Targaryen.” Otto said harshly.

His mother flinched and Aemond held his son closer.

“That is not possible. I took her maidenhood, I have been the only one in her bed, and she is a faithful wife. Rhagar is mine.”

“Perhaps you were the only one in her bed, but that does not mean she was not warming the beds of others.”

Aemond stared down at his son. True, his coloring was not that of a typical Targaryen, but they shared a nose, a smile, even the way Rhagar looked at dragons was the way he himself looked at them.

“I do not wish to believe it either, but many have seen the way she thrusts the child into the arms of Ser Halbret, and his coloring matches the boy’s.” His mother said, a sympathetic look in her eyes.

“It matches y/n’s as well.” He argued, furious that they would even suggest such a betrayal coming from you.

His grandsire laid his hands flat on the table. “Ask her then, ask her why she does not seem to care for the child, why she pushes him onto everyone else.”

His mother’s eyes flickered to the tabletop, and Aemond nodded stiffly.

He held Rhagar close as he stormed back to your shared quarters, throwing the door open to find you standing on the windowsill, one hand loosely gripping the frame, the wind whipping through your hair.

Aemond called out to you in shock, and you turned, eyes wide and brimming with tears. “I cannot bear this any longer.” You sobbed, your head dropping to your chest.

Aemond quickly but carefully set your son down on the floor and rushed over to you, pulling you away from the window. “Y/N what are you doing? Have you gone mad?”

You shook your head, sobs ripping from your throat. “I hate him, I hate him, and I hate myself for it.”

Aemond pulled you into his embrace, crushing you to his chest. “I do not understand, where does this hatred come from?”

“I am a horrible wife; he is living proof of my failure.” You sobbed, hiding your face in Aemond’s chest.

“So, it is true, then? He is not mine.” Aemond said coldly.

You looked up at him in confusion. “What? How could you say that?”

“You said he is proof of your failures, your failure to stay faithful.”

You shook your head, crying harder. “No, no, he is my failure to give you a child that bears your coloring, he looks as if he belongs in the Riverlands.”

Aemond’s racing heart slowed, and he cupped your face. “I care not if he looks true to my blood, neither I nor my siblings look like my mother, yet no one doubts we are hers.”

“But the Strongs…” You argued weakly. The treatment they received was one you feared your son would receive as well.

Aemond brushed away your tears. “Everyone knew they were bastards, but Rhagar shares my nose, my smile, and soon he will have a dragon. No one will doubt him.”

“How can you be sure?” You asked, eyes darting over to your son, who was sitting on the rug near the fireplace.

“Because I will cut down any who do. I know he is my son, I know you have been faithful, as have I.” He gently swayed you back and forth, drawing your eyes back to him. “I did not break off my betrothal and anger my entire family to marry a woman I do not trust.”

You sniffled and laid your head back on his chest. “I have failed you; I know it, you need not spare my feelings.”

“You have not failed me. You have given me a perfect child, a son, an heir.” He said firmly, wishing he could make you understand how highly he held you in his heart.

Your shoulders were still shaking, but you’d begun to calm. “He hates me Aemond, I can never cease his crying.”

He kissed your forehead gently, and held you tighter. “He is a babe, and he can sense your unhappiness, he has been crying for you, and it is I who have failed you both. I should have recognized your suffering long before today. It should not have fallen to our son to alert me to your despair.”

A cracking sound filled the room and both your heads whipped towards the fireplace.

Your son sat giggling happily with a tiny dragon in his lap.

Aemond left your side and scooped them both up, carrying them over to you. “Look at what you have created, what you have given me.”

Rhagar reached out for you, babbling “mama, mama” as the small green dragon curled up on his shoulders.

You let Rhagar take as much of your hand as he could hold and smiled.

He smiled back at you, and clumsily kissed your hand, as he had seen his father do countless times. It was more of him bumping your hand with his nose, but it made you laugh, and the tightness in your chest eased.

Perhaps you could do this.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot, @the-phantom-of-arda, @haydee5010, @partypoison00, @serrhaewin, @issshhh, @pax-2735, @malfoytargaryen, @sahanna, @dellalyra, @mxrgodsstuff, @jkhomes, @unusual-raccoon, @boofy1998, @kravitzwhore, @caribbeangel, @krispold, @issshh, @afro-hispwriter, @ryswritingrecord, @prettykinkysoul, @elissanatok, @sahvlren, @its-sam-allgood, @happinessinthbeing, @8e-h-e8, @feyres-fireheart, @just-emmaaaa, @crazylokonugget, @hedahobbit98, @devils-blackrose, @mercedesdecorazon, @snh96, @imjustboredso

#aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #wife!reader #meg's writing #hotd #hotd fanfics #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen #prince aemond #prince aemond x reader #aemond angst

[quitealotofsodapop]

Wait, I thought red was being babysat during the trial? He's there to protect his favourite uncles during post partum? Did someone go to pick him up during the chaos? Is this the first time he's "met" his grandparents? Ik the sudden labor kinda overshadows everything, including the reason they're in heaven. But there had to be a moment, while everyone was holding their breath after Wukong suddenly left the chat, that the queen mother/jade emperor took notice(had their ankles viciously attacked by a baby dragon and bull tag team).

"Who's goddamn bull child is that?"

Ironfan: Shit

Her parents: *hears her* What-

Red: Mama! Help me protect Uncle Wu!>:( *blows fire at the Jade Emperor's robes as Mei chomps on his other ankle, man is fighting for his life*(neither know who this man is but both know they don't want him near their favorite uncles' room)

Queen mother deciding to be the most unhelpful wife ever bc she doesn't know if she is allowed to interact with the currently on fire calf: Well, this is awkward

PIF *Squints in I fuckin dare you to touch them*

Referencing.

I read that as the JE saying that in the same tone as "Whos white baby is that?"

And describing Wukong as having "left the chat" is just perfect XD

I meant to write it as the Ao Longs bringing Red and Mei to visit Wukong in recovery after they got news of how the Trials went.

PIF would def organise her and Redson's visits so that there's little chance of colliding with the royal couple. She doesnt want the two parties to meet just yet given her and her parents rocky history + not having DBK as backup.

But lil Red is def the type to overhear that "Uncie Wu sick!?" when Pigsy calls the Ao Longs from the Jade Palace, and fire teleport off to protect his fave monkey - Mei in tow.

More chaos is added to "Havoc and Heaven Part 2" as two toddlers (one demon, the other a dragon) pop in to maul the Jade Emperor himself for daring to come close to their fave sworn Uncle.

The Queen Mother hears Red call PIF "momma", see's a tuff of firey red hair (like her own), and just lets out a delighted-shocked "OH!" as the information sinks in that this is her grandbaby!!!

JE is more dense, it takes PIF detaching the little calf up from his ankle to suspect "wait, why is my estrangled daughter tending to this weird baby? And why he calling her momma? And why is my wife cry- OHH!"

Redson: *sets JE's pants on fire*

Queen Mother, former destruction goddess: "Yup. Thats one of mine."

Understandably, things are a little tense in the proceding minutes/days between PIF and her parents... thankfully the rest of the gang are quick to provide defence.

JE may or may not get whacked with a rolling pin by Pigsy for saying something rude about PIF's choice of mate.

#century stone egg au #stone egg talk #lmk red son #lmk pif #lmk princess iron fan #lmk mei #long xiaojiao #lmk aus #lmk #lego monkie kid

[jtargaryen18]

His Inheritance ~ Chapter 29 Preview

I'd really, really like to post this Sunday. I'm trying...

“Is there anything else you know, Sweetheart? Anything at all?”

Oh, she did. He knew that look.

“What?” he asked.

“It involves Yelena,” she said, holding his gaze.

“This is not the time to bargain with me—”

“Oh, I’m not bargaining for anything,” she informed him, anger hardening her expression. “Yelena will be back where she belongs when this is over. She’s loyal to me and it was out of that loyalty that she told Clint where he could find Banner.”

“Excuse me?” Banner was supposed to be gone. Long gone, off to the west coast.

“He was still here,” she told him. “On Stark’s turf. He needed to be dealt with and Clint deserved a go at him.”

The way his wife spoke, the fire in her eyes. It mirrored the anger he was struggling to keep down right now.

“Think about it,” she said. “Yelena gave him that information. Then he calls Nat, tells her we’ve been ratted out and Barnes knows everything. We’re all in danger.”

Steve stared her down. “You think Banner is the rat?”

She shook her head. “Banner’s involved, but he’s not the rat. He didn’t know what you had planned for tonight. And he had no access to that information unless it was from the rat who did. But he was still here. Banner was hoping for something, and it wasn’t Nat. What did Barnes promise him?”

What indeed. She had a point. Banner had sworn to Steve he’d be gone, and he was still here, on Stark’s turf. Someone promised him something important.

“You think Stark is involved?” Steve pressed.

“No,” she said. “I don’t really know him. But from the impression I got, he wouldn’t be that stupid.”

It was his thought exactly about Tony Stark. Jesus. Who was this woman he married?

“Barnes?” She shrugged. “Well, that remains to be seen.”

“You’ve talked to Belova,” he said.

“And she is on her way to the location she gave Clint,” she explained.

“Alone?”

“No, she’s with friends,” his wife explained.

“What friends?”

“All I know is that they are friends of Dyson,” she said. “And if he trusts them, and she trusts them, then so do I.”

Not a hint of doubt or hesitation. His wife stood toe to toe with him, talking about the dangers of his world with authority.

“But we have no idea where Dyson is.” Now her expression softened. The smallest trace of fear in her eyes. “I tried to call him from Nat’s phone, Luca called. There’s no answer. He’s supposed to be going with Neal to deal with Hansen tonight. Steve, we have to find him.”

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Steve nodded. “We do. We really do… Dyson didn’t take it well that I pushed Belova out.”

“I’ll bet he didn’t,” she said bitterly.

“You got in his head about Neal,” Steve told her. “Neal said something about Belova Dyson really didn’t like. He beat the shit out of him, right there in my office last night.”

Steve saw the flash of excitement in her eyes at that. Just as quickly, it diminished.

“Jesus, Steve. Dyson’s walking into a trap between Hansen and Neal.” His wife shook her head, her teeth tugging at her lower lip nervously. “He’s dead if we don’t do something.”

Steve knew she was right. If Neal was who she thought he was.

“You really think Neal is the rat here?” he asked.

“I know he is, Steve.”

It was then he realized something. The conviction, the certainty she spoke with? It was all too familiar.

It all very much reminded him of her father. Every bit of it. And her father had been a hell of a leader in his time. He would never have found himself in the shit situation Steve let himself fall into.

He would have trusted her father without question. But could he put aside who he thought Neal was?

Pulling her phone out of the pocket of his slacks, he handed it to her. “Call Dyson. One last try before I start making hard decisions.”

She took the phone without hesitation, hitting Dyson’s number with haste and putting the speaker on so he could hear. It only rang once before someone answered.

“Hi there, Princess,” Hansen drawled.

#His Inheritance #Get ready

[childotkw]

Um, not sure if you've been asked this before (I could've sworn that at one point you had, but i can't for the life of me find the post) but do you have any thoughts about genderbent Regulus Black?

I can see there being a much more different sibling dynamic between them and Sirius as there isn't an heir and backup dynamic with Walburga and Orion no doubt seeing Regulus as a tool to be married off. Not to mention they'd be much more strict with Sirius without a backup heir to replace him.

Not to mention it would be interesting if Tom saw Regulus as a chance to better win the loyalty of the pureblood community, after all having a bride from one of the most prestigious pureblood families would raise his standing by a lot.

I absolutely love your female Harry AU's especially "I pray(death parts us)" and "Serpent In These Still Waters ", and I love the marriage dynamic between Tom and Harry.

However I do wonder about the arranged marriage dynamic that Tom could have. Especially with someone who was born into the world of pureblood politics.

No pressure obviously to answer if you're not interested, but yea I was just wondering.

Ohh yes I know the one you're talking about! I ended up with Rana Black being the fem!Regulus name - you can read the original outline here.

I do have many thoughts about it - mainly how Ran would have grown up shaped by society's expectations and how she would eventually grow to cast those expectations off.

In my idea, Rana manages to convince Orion to ship her off to Beauxbatons. Orion, because his daughter is his favourite child, agrees to do this one thing for her, despite any objections from his wife. Rana actually eventually moves permanently to France with Kreacher as her ""guardian"" (because let's be real, the wizarding world has a pretty broken view on how young children should be raised and this isn't that far out of the norm for them). So Rana misses a large portion of the bullshit that is brewing in Britain.

But...

Walburga sees, Walburga knows. In the brief instances she actually interacts with her daughter (who seemed to grow up between blinks, who turned from a slim and silent shadow of a girl into a calm and confident young woman far from her mother's influence), Walburga learns.

Rana is not some demure wife-to-be. She is a...liberationist. A young woman with incorrect and damaging opinions on what her place in the world should be. Her time in France, in that school, has warped her understanding of her duty.

So, Walburga must fix this. As the new heir to the Black legacy, Rana has a responsibility to their House. She must bring in the next generation, and she must accept her place.

Walburga looks at Narcissa, at Bellatrix, and knows she must find her daughter a husband that can curb her radical views.

She also decides, rather firmly, that it's time her daughter learns deference. Learns to bow.

Orchestrating an encounter between her daughter and the Dark Lord is easy enough. Walburga is one of the few that still sees Tom Riddle in the face of Voldemort, and that tenuous childhood connection gives her enough leverage to push her daughter into the man's space with the implied permission to teach the girl how to drop her chin.

Only...that's not what happens.

Voldemort sees Rana's spark, sees her potential and her ideas and her biting cynicism towards the structures of their society; sees the way her eyes constantly drift towards the horizon, towards France, and finds himself a little curious at this until-now unknown Black.

(Voldemort is, after all, a radical himself. Why Walburga thought he would dismiss Rana's ideals or find her foolish is beyond him.)

Marriage isn't the first or fourth or even twentieth plot he envisions with Rana Black - but eventually it does creep into his purview.

And that intrigue, the future he could see forming with everything Rana Black brings with her, is enough for him to kick things into gear.

The biggest problem - the only problem, really - is that Rana Black does not want to marry.

Anyone.

Not even the Dark Lord.

#anonymous #HP #regulus black #tom riddle #regulus x tom #fem!regulus

[choupistickfaitdesbetises]

Against the flow…

A few days ago, an unexpected tweet was posted informing those who cared that Tim and Armie had been seen together in a restaurant in Los Angeles, then running on the beach, walking a dog. They were sweet and tender towards each other, and in another tweet we learn that they kissed…

The reactions challenged me and I wanted to transcribe my feelings on the subject. As usual, this is my opinion and mine only:

I read that this tweet would be a fake because the account is recent, there is no photo, no proof of what the author of the post advances on Armie and Tim, he refuses to answer in private, etc…

For me, first and foremost, any positive information is beneficial. I’d rather read that they've been seen to be kind to each other than read that Tim hates Armie and of course they make sure they're not in LA at the same time.

My question is rather: why post something so nice, sweet and beautiful (see the other tweets)? Usually nice posts are those written by us in the fandom. Unless :

1st hypothesis: an anti who wants to force them out so that their careers suffer? An anti is capable of anything except speaking well of Armie or the Armie/Tim couple, even if it is to get at Armie. And he wouldn't go after Tim. From what I have read so far, the antis do not shine with their finesse. As for forcing them out…how? I don't see them being forced because of this post. It is enough that they do not react.

2nd hypothesis: To make us run, and to ridicule us the charmies... It seems to me that it is completely useless for a very short effect. It's a lot of ado about nothing.

3rd hypothesis: someone looking for celebrity to launch their account? There are other actors who would be better carriers with a larger fanbase. And the author still only has 34 followers at this time.

4th hypothesis: He actually saw 2 men in love, famous, ok, and he wanted to share it without thinking of harm because they were in a restaurant or on a beach, in public and without hiding it, because he found it beautiful, because love is love. Excuse me, but that's what most of us do every day: talk about their love and we didn't ask them for permission to do it either.... Maybe we should invite him to join us in the fandom.

5th hypothesis: it is a sounding balloon… a test to judge reactions. No, I am not completely naive or crazy, but I do not rule out this possibility. There are many things happening behind the scenes that we know little or nothing about. We are the strongest to analyze, dissect all the signs we receive. And we know that they are very intelligent and clever in addition, of course to being madly in love. So why wouldn't it be another sign? On a large scale? With multiple gains if the reactions are positive: Live their love story out in the open, official and unconditional support for Armie, 1st official A lister couple of the same sex in Hollywood, pulling the rug from under the feet of an ex-wife who has sworn to exterminate the father of her children, depriving her of her last weapon, the threat to denounce them...

I keep the 4th and 5th hypothesis, it’s my conviction and they complete each other

This tweet made 45.7k views in 4 days… for 50 likes, 7 retweets, 46 quotes, mostly negative and nauseating.

But that's only 46 quotes out of 46k views!!!

Either 0.1% of negative reactions ok but which means that conversely it is more than 99% of people who adhere or who do not care.

Nice score, isn’t it ?

I'll end on one last point: whatever one might think of all this, almost 7 years later... what gets the crowds going is still Armie and Tim together, inextricably linked.

And that's true. 💙💚

#armie hammer #timothée chamalet #charmie #march 23 Twitter

[jedineedlove]

LMK Memory Scroll / Bull Family

I want to post my thoughts on what went on in the memory scroll for the Bull Family.

So to begin, is to go over what the Scroll of Memory is.

The Scroll of Memory is an ancient artifact created from magical bamboo planks from the Underworld. It was designed to be a prison for its captives as they were forced to relive their past misdeeds, making them relive the sinful parts of their past.

For the Bull Family, they were in the scroll for a while and we don't see what they went through inside. The scroll is meant to make them relive misdeeds as a form of punishment.

There is also the question, the scroll would show them mostly memories they would actually feel bad for I mean there are people that do bad things but not regret it. So it would not really affect them. Remember these are demons doing bad things like trying to conquer the world and terrorizing innocent people is just part of the plan. So for demons, it would be more personal things.

DBK

For him, it could be a number of things he is a demon king he has probably done a lot of bad things. One thing he has done wrong that would leave a bad memory for the scroll to use would be when he attacked the village and Wukong sealed him under the mountain.

But if the scroll is using things that they themselves consider sinful like deep regret filled memories then.... I have a few ideas

As a father and husband he was sadly absent for 500 years there must be regret and when he realized he was a bit too emotionally distant from his son. he most likely has regret as being unable to really help his son control the samadi fire and make him go through a risky ritual. He most likely regrets the words and actions he said and did as he was possessed by LBD. Finally, with the battle against his former sworn brothers, his wife took a hit for him and he was captured making him leave his son to fend for himself.

PIF

The former Celestial: Princess Iron Fan a sinful action she did in their universe by celestial standards is she left her realm for a demon king. She left her station for the Bull King to join him in conquering the world.

She most likely has many regrets that have memories that the scroll could use. Feeling helpless as your husband is imprisoned. She may have made some tough choices over the 500 years leading a kingdom and raising her son. Her emotional distancing from her son she can see more that it left scars. Red Sons' early childhood and being unable to help him. If you look back at the ritual even though her son and husband are there she is not. Because the fire would have burned her. Even though she loved Bull King she must have had people she cared for in the celestial realm and left them behind never to see them again. During the fight with the tree she was captured but Tusk and when she was caught she was unable to help her husband and son.

Red Son

I can't really think of anything he himself has done that would be considered sinful and have affected him the closest thing would be the damage he did when he had the Samadhi Fire.

He probably has the most personal regret even though he should have too. The feeling of being unable to meet demon royalty expectations. During his father's imprisonment, he was unable to help until 500 years later. Even though he did not know he had the samadhi fire until later in season 3 he most likely had memories of the destruction by his red jack pattern on the back (bottom right image.)

#lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk red son #lmk demon bull king #lmk princess iron fan #imk bull family #lmk scroll of memory #lmk fan thoughts #fan thoughts

[aphroditelovesu]

The Bloody Viscount - Chapter 1 Sneak Peek

❝ 🐝 — lady l: so besties, I had a problem with my computer and I couldn't post the fanfic chapter today, however, I don't want to keep you waiting any longer and I've decided that I'm going to reward you with two things: first this sneak peek and a love letter from Anthony referring the future of this fanfic, nothing with much spoiler, but enough for you to know something. I hope you like it and forgive me for the delay and for any mistakes! I love you all. ❤️

❝word count: 500.

Your eyes met Viscount Brigderton's and you felt your face heat up as you felt the intensity he was staring at you.

He was an attractive man, you had to confess. And it wasn't the way he looked, sure, he was handsome, but the look in his eyes was what stunned you. The passion they conveyed put you to shame.

And the fact that eyes were thrown in your direction made you even more cornered. Looking away to a random spot on the ball, you smiled as you watched the couples dancing and people chatting and gossiping.

You turned to your mother, who was watching all the men at the party carefully, sizing them up. You mentally rolled your eyes at that, she was so determined to find you a husband that she didn't even ask you what you wanted.

It's not that you didn't want to get married, you wanted and would like to have a family one day, but... You didn't know how to deal with all that. This was your first season and your mother, Lady (L/N), seemed very committed to getting a good match.

And it wasn't for your happiness, you noticed.

It was to raise your family's social status. As the only child, it was your responsibility to improve your parents' lives. It was your duty and something you'd been raised to do since birth.

Raised to become a proper wife.

Your education, your tastes, everything taught to you was thtat you should correspond to the tastes of your future husband. And your mother had been pretty strict about it. Your dad was more relaxed, but he always made his expectations of you clear.

Your mother's eyes turned to the Viscount and you felt like hiding. She looked him up and down, he was talking to an older woman, who you assumed was Lady Violet Bridgerton. His mother.

You watched your mother straighten her posture and start walking across the room, towards the Viscount. Your face got even redder because you knew what your mother would do.

What she always did. She would start babbling about you and your skills and what she thought you liked. How good and sweet you were, how motherly you were.

You mentally sneered and frowned when you saw your mother coming, accompanied by Lady and Viscount Bridgerton. You looked away quickly and turned so you could flee, when the Viscount's deep, sensual voice called out to you.

''Lady (Y/N) (L/N)?''

A shiver ran down your spine at the tone that had your name coming out of his mouth and you mentally scolded yourself. You straightened your posture and turned to face them.

You bowed slightly, bowing your head in submission as your mother had taught you, and looked into his dark eyes.

''Lord Bridgerton.'' You smiled weakly, ''It's a pleasure to meet you, milord.''

You could have sworn you saw him wince at the title and his eyes darken even further.

#yandere bridgerton #yandere bridgertons #yandere anthony bridgerton #yandere anthony bridgerton x reader #sneak peek #the bloody viscount #bridgerton #the bridgertons #anthony bridgerton x reader

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hi there! Can I request Arthur Dayne x reader!AFAB for kinktober with the age difference prompt please? Thank you!

I am still stunned by this. Thank you for giving me such a character to write about!

“The Black Swan”

Pairing: Arthur Dayne x Fem. Reader (second person) | Location: Street of Silk

Themes: Smut (Lemon/Graphic) | Secret romance

Warnings: Age difference | Kissing | Some explicit language | Foreplay | Oral (fem receiving) |Penetrative sex | Cream Pie

Word count: 1.8k words

Summary: Arthur makes the most of his time alone with his companion, and in one of the only places safe enough for him to do so.

Rating: 🔥🔥 | Minors DNI | 18+ | You are responsible for the media you consume.

A/n: From what I could find, Arthur was born during or 260 AC. Given that this is an age difference post, I decided to go with him being born somewhere during or just after 240 AC. The reader in this scenario is 21+. This story takes places sometime during 280 AC.

Arthur was a sworn brother of the King’s Guard. He pledged a solemn vow to take no wife and father no children after he donned the white. He had honored those vows for most of his years of service, and that was nigh on eighteen years ago, when his father finally agreed to release him from his duties toward his family. 

All that changed as the years and time serving Aerys took their collective toll on him. When Arthur kneeled before the High Septon, he had been a man of two and twenty, full of dreams of honor and service and glory. Now Arthur was a man nearing forty, disillusioned with his lot in life and tired of a king that drank deep the poison that plagued many of his forebearers. 

He kept his head down and pulled up a thick hood while he walked down the Street of Silk, garbed in rough-spun robes. No one dared to look at him. Everyone else was too occupied with their own business to even care. Arthur threaded his way around peasants and merchants and sailors, taking care not to reveal too much of himself and make himself known. Someone tugged on the hem of his cloak. It was a beggar woman, dressed in rags. He obliged her with a few stars, refusing to linger more than was necessary. Arthur walked on, keeping to narrow pathways and filthy alleys, not stopping until a familiar, well-paved street scented with jasmines and awash in red and gold light came into sight.

His eyes lit up. The gilded lamps of the Black Swan appeared at the far end of the Street of Silk, its garden full of old trees. It was the only place one could find trees outside of the Red Keep, and its night-blooming blossoms were a welcome sight to the knight. 

It was also the only place he found pleasing and safe enough for his trysts. Arthur had heard the gossip about how others at court would bring their paramours here, how some of his sworn brothers came here. Arthur understood the appeal. The Black Swan was the only proper trysting house on the Street of Silk for those who were high-born. Its rooms were airy and warm, its wine delicate and fine, and its proprietress and the servants in her employ were considerate and discrete. And those, such as the knights of the King’s Guard, demanded discretion.

Arthur squirmed in discomfort. What he and his brothers-in-arms were doing was wrong. It went against their vows and against the teachings of the Seven who were One. They were damning themselves in many ways by coming here. Still, the chance to indulge in the sweetness that came to him in life was rare. Arthur did not want to let such precious occasions slip by.

“My lord,” Helya lifted her head when large doors swung open, and caught sight of a familiar pair of scuffed-up boots. The mistress of the house went no further than a cursory title. Anything more would be dangerous, not just for her patron but for her and her place of business. “Your lady arrived just before you did. I have set aside a room for your particular use.”

Arthur kept his gaze down and his hood up. He slipped a heavy bag of coin into soft, perfumed hands. “How is she?”

“Uneasy,” Helya admitted, leading him down a dimly lit corridor filled with the smoke of lavender incense. “I hope you understand why, what with all these tales around our king.”

“I do.” Arthur turned to his left and peered down another dark corridor. Was that Oswell’s deep, smug laugh he heard? He prayed that it was not so. One knight of the King’s Guard vanishing into the night, only to appear hours later, could be dismissed easily with a well-crafted tale. Two or more, on the other hand, could not. And then they would all have to answer to both King and the Council.  

“You are the only one present this night,” Helya reassured him. “The others are not here.”

Relief, no matter how small, was relief all the same. Arthur nodded and urged Helya to lead him on, his blood heating when muffled moans and gasps and cries spilled out of locked rooms. When they came upon a wide, wooden door, Helya gave him a brass key, made her excuses, and left. Arthur wasted no time, pushing the door open and locking it behind him without another thought. He turned around, sighing softly, when a cooling sea breeze blew in through an open window. The flames of nearby candles flickered and danced, throwing strange shadows onto sandy brick walls.

“Are you here, sweetling?” Arthur removed his hood and hung it on a wooden peg on the back of the door. He slipped out of his boots, already giddy with silent but eager anticipation.

“I am here, Ser,” you reply, and step out of the shadows, clad in the silken wisps Arthur had once gave as a gift. 

Impatient as he was, Arthur did not wish to hurry—not for a long while at least. He strode over and took your hand, leading you to a nearby seat made especially for two. As soft and comfortable as that seat was, it was not big enough for him, for Arthur was tall and large and imposing.  

Tonight, his often stern eyes were full of sadness. You reached out and caressed his cheek. “What troubles you, Ser?”

“The same as always, sweetling.” Arthur closed his eyes, his mood souring. “The king. The choices I made before coming to this city. I hope you do not take offense to my not speaking further about such matters. I do not wish to soil my time with you by regaling you with tales of woe.”

“I understand. Were you seen, Ser?”

“No. And how many times must I ask you not to call me Ser, at least while we are beneath this roof?”

You smiled broadly. “One more time, Ser. As always. “

Arthur’s smile, a rare sight on most occasions, mirrored yours. Then he leaned in. 

His kiss was sweet and languid and patient—a far cry from the wet, messy kisses you had become accustomed to. But then again, such was to be expected of him. Arthur curled a finger under your chin, tilting it to the side before dipping his head, the still brown stubble along his cheeks grazing your skin. The shiver that greeted Arthur made him tremble, filled him with an all-too-common craving that demanded to be satisfied. He drew back, slipped his arms around you, and lifted you up.

The featherbed was soft, and its sheets were made of the finest silk. That was another thing that made the Black Swan special: how Helya spared no expense when turning the abandoned manse of a now-dead merchant into a little haven for those who desired it.

And Arthur was grateful that Oswell spoke to him about its existence.

“Lay back, sweetling,” he surged, impatient to disrobe himself. You move higher up the bed, your cheeks blazing when rough-spun robes are disposed of, and a finely formed body littered with old scars is exposed to dim light. Arthur caught your eyes darting away and chuckled to himself.

“Do not hide yourself from me,” he implored. “We have come to mean too much to each other for that.”

The featherbed sank as you turned to face him, the haunting lilac eyes that were like hooks for the soul, and the skin that reminded you of the golden sands of Dorne. Arthur cupped your cheek again, his thumb tracing a lazy line. The world outside went silent. Or, perhaps, it was just him and you ignoring everything else. He pulled you close, his arms strong but exceedingly gentle. His skin smelled of leather and sweat. It was a knight’s scent. One deep breath was all it took, and you were already under his spell. Arthur pushed you onto your back, closing his eyes when your mouth opened beneath his. He pulled your wisps off you, his hands still warm to the touch.

Kissed by the summer sun, you mused. Just like the rest of him.

His hands glided all over now, leaving no inch untouched. A finger slid up inside you, sheathing itself in your warmth. Your arms slipped around his back and pulled him closer. Arthur found himself being urged to go deeper. He groaned delightfully in response.

“Temptress,” he whispered in your ear and dipped his head, moving even lower, eager to taste.

You moaned, long, deep, and husky. The heat of his mouth and the softness of the tongue pressing broad strokes over your folds, gave way to new pleasure and fed his own. You bowed up, arched your hips, half-whispering words that would have made you blush in the bright light of day. Arthur chuckled faintly. It was another rare thing, and more than that, it was one that was for your ears alone. He dipped his head again, now fucking you with the flat of his tongue, now slipping a thick finger into your cunt, now shifting to that sinful tongue of his again, on and on until his lips and tongue and chin were soaked. You murmured, so close were you to peaking. Arthur stopped and climbed up. The legs that wrapped around his hips were all the invitation he needed to plunge hard and plunge deep.

He never fumbled—not even once—nothing like wet behind the ears lordling who was your first. Then again, Lord Brynden was a selfish young man who had only ever thought of his pleasure, and never yours. Arthur was different. He wanted to give instead of just taking and taking with no care for anything else. Even now, it is the same. He kept his attention on you, his hands teasing and toying, his eyes flashing—now searing, now hungry, now dark. You reared up and kissed him, then pulled him down with you. Arthur clasped your hands in his and pinned them to the pillows. His grunts were low and ceaseless. They vibrated against your throat. His cock filled you in a way you could never conceive. It was extraordinary and startling at the same time. Your body hummed as if electrified. Something within tightened, then snapped. The orgasm that followed was quick and sharp, like a flash of golden light that blurred your eyes. Arthur drove into you again and again until he shattered, spilling himself after one last powerful thrust.

If I die on the morrow, he thought, it will be as a happy man.

Arthur opened his eyes, his chest still heaving from the exhilaration. Sounds trickled in through the windows and the crack beneath the door. Waves crashed against the cliffs. A storm was approaching. There was music too, though nowhere as loud. Someone was strumming a viol. Another was singing. Two of the servants, no doubt, entertaining those enjoying cups of wine. Arthur took a deep, steadying breath, and slowly rose to his shaky knees. He helped you into your robe, then bent down to kiss you, teasing you with promises of more to come.  

“Stay just as you are, sweetling,” he said, his smile warming his eyes. “I will send for a meal and some wine.”

#arthur dayne #arthur dayne imagine #arthur dayne x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #x reader #reader insert #reader insert request #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #arthur dayne smut

[pinacoladamatata]

@coolseabird because you asked🤣 and I have far too free time rn and so much art and fic of her and I could literally post about her for days

my Tav (who's real name is Tal'diira Baenre, who is also Minthara's youngest sister) [[I did NOT know Minthara was like... one of *THE Baenre's* for all of early access bc I thought she would just be like, a random/distant family member and not....one of Quenthel's daughters. But then come full release I realized Minthara WAS one of the daughters and had to basically face the fact I had unintentionally made my Tav her sister. and I had killed her at the goblin camp. and I felt sooo bad about it I wrote a fix it fic and modded Minthara back in]]

Class: Bard, with 2 lvl cleric dip

Baby girl is the annoying bard child of the family, she grew up idolizing her uncle, Jarlaxle. But given how strictly she was raised she became a lot more reserved as she got older (she's around 122 years old). She dyes her hair white, even though it's naturally black, at her mother's insistence. So similar to how Minthara mentions having a complicated relationship with her mom, I imagined Tav would feel the same. Feeling so weird about intimacy/safety because the person supposed to protect you most, who did protect you as a baby, also now tries to kill you maybe :/ but she has a younger brother (the true baby of the family) who she helped raise. I imagine her baby brother is like oddly softhearted and she felt like she had to protect/shield him a bit by being even More Intimidating so no one would try to fuck with her and by extension him. I'm of course like completely making this up but; I have decided the Baenre siblings all have a "yeah we'll kill each other but we'll double kill anyone who tries to hurt one of my siblings" vibe.

I really liked the idea of a high CHA character who was quiet/disarming/unsettling in the way they used it <- this was my entire basis for the character when i first played bg3 back in like 2020 lol and I happened to make a lolth sworn cleric and had so much fun that This whole fic thing evolved. She was raised to be a priestess of Lolth, until she fails her 5th trial and basically fled. Now furious that Lolth made her kill her wife, she wants revenge on a god, no big. So maybe several weeks into her escaping she finally makes it to the surface (see's the moon for the first time 😏) and is immediately picked up by the nautiloid, makes a new best friend (Shadowheart) and the rest of the gang drive her up the wall especially the vampire. So now she's unpacking all that :)

#i still haven't finished their uhh....time loop fic but I WILL #also it is so funny to me that i made her minthara's sister like 100% by accident #only canon names i have for other siblings are myrinel for the eldest daughter and aumon for the eldest son and now minthara i guess #i dont think i have a tag for her even!!! a crime #tav tag #lol