#tw: birth

[queerbuckleys]

...it’s also about life experience. and i think you need some more of that...

#911 #911edit #evan buckley #911 6x18 #911 1x07 #tuserksn #janielook #userceecee #userbon #usermaripal #tuserarah #userlove #tuserjw #userweres #911verse #alielook #userabs #tw: birth #*911

[yuujis-sunshine]

𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄. kung lao

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓(𝒔): Kung Lao, Liu Kang (mentioned), Raiden (mentioned)

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈(𝒔): Little bit of CHILDBIRTH mentioned, Blood

𝑨/𝑵: This was requested by @eemr1000

𝑺𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: Kung Lao and his kinda bedwritten pregnant wife.

"𝖂hat are you doing, [Name]?" Asked a voice. Your eyes widened before turning your face around to see the Shaolin, who happened to be your husband; Kung Lao. He had his arms crossed, a worried/mad expression on his face.

"Oh, Lao! I didn't knew you would come home right now." She tells him, before her foot accidentally missed a step on her stool, making Lao worried for his wife and catch her in his arms. "I thought I told you to not move around much, it's not safe for the baby." He tells her in a kinda harsh, but worried tone. Kung Lao cared way too much for his wife. "Sorry, just felt hungry." A small pout forms on the woman's lips. Lao sighed at his wife before nuzzling his face into his wife's neck. "How could I be mad at you...?" He said softly, as his wife softly smiles at her husband's words.

[Name] walked to her bed with assistance from her White Lotus husband behind her, he then tells her, "I'll be back with some food. Don't move." Kung Lao kissed her forehead and pets her hair softly filled with affection before heading off to cook. And after he left, the woman decides to look out of her window, looking at the beautiful cherry blossom petals going to the ground or in the pond. And a memory hitted her head on when she and Kung Lao met. "What's your name?" He asked her as [Name] was about to defeat Kung Lao in Mortal Kombat. The female fighter looks at him with a bit of a death glare, and she had a tiny blush on her cheeks. "I-I-It's... [Name] [Last Name]." She tells him, trying to sound tough but was embarrassed either way. The man chuckles and stands up, walking over to the woman just to put his finger on her chin. [Name]'s eyes widened in shock. "W-What are you doing?!" She asked with a bit of anger, before kicking him in his nuts. Kung Lao hunched over in pain as he groaned in pain, holding onto his nuts. "Damn... You're pretty tough...!!" He tells her breathlessly. [Name] darkly stares at her, staring at the man on the ground. As time passes by, he was still trying to flirt with her, but she rejects them all... But at some point, [Name] finally gave in after the battle between Earthrealm and Outworld ended and decided to be with Lao. It took a very long time to accept him into your life, but she had no other choice but to confess her feelings in her way. "[Name]~, are you ok?" Lao asked, waving his hand in front of his wife's face. She blinks and softly chuckles at the flashback she had.

"What's so funny?" Lao asked.

She smiles and replies to him with, "Yeah, just thinking about... How we met." Lao chuckles at his wife's words before putting her food down on the table beside her bed. The White Lotus sits on his wife's bed and has his hand on the side of her hair with a soft smile on his lips, as [Name] gave him the same look in his eyes back. "I love you and our baby so much..." He tells [Name] softly. "I love you too, Lao."

- 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 -

"You're doing good, [Name]!" Said [Name]'s mother, as she seen her daughter in pain and grips her hand back tightly. Kung Lao was out doing training, but it was interrupted when Lord Raiden informed him that he was finally gonna be a father now. Soon as he heard that, Kung Lao bid Liu Kang and Lord Raiden farewell before running to their home and thinking about [Name] and their new addition. And when he walked in their home, he was met with a very loud and strong cry of a baby. Lao's heart stopped when he heard that sound.... It made him breath raggedly as he felt some tears coming down his cheeks. [Name]'s mother walks up to see who it was and seen his son-in-law on his knees. "He's healthy, Kung Lao." He? Thought Lao as he felt more tears down his cheeks, and was helped up by his mother-in-law who was softly smiling at him. [Name]'s mother opens the slide in door of the huge traditional Chinese home, seeing a tired [Name] holding their crying baby boy in a hanfu gown. She smiled softly at her husband and their mother bids them goodbye, saying she'll come back tomorrow. "Meet your son, Hàoyú." She looks down at her little newborn with a soft smile, seeing him peacefully in her arms sleeping.

Lao walks inside of the room to see the baby up close, seeing that he had the color of his hair, which is black. His eyes were closed, his body was wrapped inside of a yellow blanket. All of a sudden, your husband pulls you close to him and gives her a forehead kiss. "You did such an amazing job while I was gone. I'm really proud of you, [Name]." He said, acting like he never cried, but his heart was still in shock. She smiles, and notices how shocked he is from seeing their newborn. "Wanna hold him?" Kung Lao's eyes were in shock from the question, and he softly gulps.

He nods his head lightly before she places the baby in his arms softly, seeing the little human in his arms. "Hey, Háoyú..." Lao pauses, noticing how Háoyú moves a bit uncomfortable but comfortable at the same time. "I'm your dad." He finishes the part, relieved. The baby softly fusses and whines a bit, so he bounces his son a bit while shushing Háoyú with a calming voice as [Name] smiles softly at her two boys in front of her.

"As long as you have me, Kung Lao and [Name] [Last Name], there is no need to worry. I'll protect both of you..." He tells him, as [Name] chuckles lightly at his words, happy that he is slowly getting attached to his son. So far, Kung Lao liked this part of fatherhood, and he wanted this moment to last.

- 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 -

"Is that a... Baby?" Asked Liu, seeing his best friend and also partner wearing a baby carrier that had his cute son inside of it, while [Name] stood behind him, smiling and bowing at Liu softly. "Yes, Liu Kang." He said proudly, as Háoyú's hands were up for a couple seconds, cooing cutely. Lord Raiden came out and seen what was going on. It was Kung Lao... With a baby carrier and he also noticed [Name] as well. "Greetings, Lord Raiden. This is our son, Háoyú [Last Name]." [Name] bows as she had her fist in a bowing manner. As Raiden and [Name] talked, he couldn't help but continue to stare at the baby. He looked VERY adorable.

#tw: birth #tw: pregnancy #mortal kombat #mk x reader #kung lao #kung lao mk #kung lao x reader #request #x reader asks #oneshot #pregnant reader #x pregnant reader #cute

[crisiscutie]

Dissidia Safer Sephiroth Musings

Once he ascended to godhood, Sephiroth became dedicated to spreading despair and ensuring his own paradise alongside his darling.

Content Warning: Mommy Kink, Slight NSFW.

༻❁༺ After becoming one with his darling, he knew all of her feelings and thoughts, as she did his. Yet, for a peculiar reason, there was still some individuality left over.

༻❁༺ This Sephiroth is undoubtedly the most relaxed compared to his counterparts. He accomplished his goals and enjoyed a state of complete harmony with his mother-darling. Considering everything they had endured to get to that point, their paradise was a well-deserved reward.

༻❁༺  Taking after his darling in her past life, he developed a penchant for humming. He'd hum his favorite melody for the darling as they snuggled in their paradise world.

༻❁༺ His darling was a sleepyhead, as her body needed constant nourishment. This was just one of the few consequences from the merging of her and JENOVA, and then her merge with Sephiroth himself. The burden of physical ailments fell on her, so he made it his mission and purpose to ensure her welfare.

༻❁༺  His calming humming became a powerful tool for inducing her sleepiness, especially when she was resistant to rest.

༻❁༺ He would drain the life force of the worlds they conquered and convert it into crystals for her consumption.

༻❁༺ His fury has no limits when anything even slightly inconveniences her or interrupts her naps. But the most unforgivable act is to separate them. They will claw through ANYTHING to reunite and be in each other's embrace again.

༻❁༺ They are each other's strength, but also each other's greatest vulnerability.

༻❁༺ They had a habit of finishing each other's sentences, which always unsettled their enemies.

༻❁༺ Sometimes, they would engage in trivial yet playful debates in their mind just to tease each other. Like when she pouted because she didn't want to let go of his arm when they had to fight their enemies. His solution? Tell her she's more than welcome to cling to his arm while they fought. How would it work? ....He'd make do with it.

༻❁༺ Whenever birthing their monstrous spawn became difficult for her, he embraced her and his wings enveloped her. Then he would softly whisper words of love to soothe her pain.

༻❁༺ When he gained the ability to traverse between different universes, the first thing he did was to adopt the younger version of his darling, giving the lonely girl the parental love she always craved.

༻❁༺ The young girl's fearful response to the despair he inflicted upon her tormentors and the world that had brought her so much pain perplexed him, though.

༻❁༺ He was patient and calculating, slowly coaxing the girl out of her scared shell by giving her everything else she wanted. She wants friends? He uses the spawn born from his darling to play the role of her friends by utilizing their mimicry ability. Whatever she wanted, he will get it for her. He'd burn worlds just to keep her warm.

༻❁༺ Before long, she assimilated into their way of life, accepting Sephiroth and his darling as her parents.

༻❁༺ Sephiroth's unstoppable dynasty left a legacy of destruction and despair across countless worlds. And only more will fall.

These two are definitely the most lovey-dovey out of the Sephy/Darling pairings I've done so far. Sheesh, you'd be tempted to tell them to get a room, xD

Dark Horse for how Sephy feels about Darling and E.T for how Darling feels about Sephy.

#sephiroth #ff7 sephiroth #final fantasy 7 #ff7 #sephiroth x reader #final fantasy x reader #yandere sephiroth #crisis cutie #one winged masquerade AU #tw: birth #tw: mommy kink #tw: yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #final fantasy dissidia #final fantasy vii

[playingpreggobby]

This is an amazing triplet birth vlog, all natural loved every bit of it 😍😍

Credits to owner!

#birth kink #tw: birth #birth vid #birth rp #playingpreggobby #Youtube

[bebemoon]

a strange dream. i gave birth to a clutch of tiny demonic cherubs- a little smaller than the palm of my hand yet chubby-bellied and pinioned with these nasty waxy little wings. they stayed with me, complaining in high-pitched, insectile-like cries for pin-pricks of blood from the tips of my fingers. i disliked them- they could've been crushed as easily as dry autumn leaves- but i couldn't bring myself to it... they slept curled in my hair. awful little things that needed me. what could i do

#personal #night visions/daydreams #tw: birth #< #just in case

[ohtobeleah]

Sneak Preview of some fluff I’ve been working on for ToE ~ Riley’s Birth

“How long have you been having contractions for?” Bradley changed the subject to what really mattered. You were having your baby, his baby. There was a moment of silence shared between the two of you as you mulled over whether or not you were going to tell the truth, or continue to run from it. Your last birth experience hadnt been the best, that type of trauma stays with a person. And even though you had all the faith and trust in Bradley that the world could provide–you were still beyond terrified to have to give birth again. He knew that too.

“Since around lunch time, they’re super far apart.” You explained softly as tears began to fill your eyes, eyes that told Bradley you were scared. “I'm not ready to have this baby.” You admitted as you shook your head and held your hand over his. “At least tonight I’m not.”

“Okay, that's fine.” Rooster wasn't gonna argue with his pregnant wife about what she could or couldn't do with her body. He’d learnt to pick his battles and this just didn't seem like a hill that he was ready to die on. Besides, regardless or what you were or weren't ready for? Baby R was coming. It was only a matter of time. “How about I finish up here and I'll run you a bath?”

“Jakes in Texas–” Oh? What did Hangman being in Texas have to do with you running a bath? Oh! Bradley thought to himself. Jake was your person. He was your person during your last birth. “But yeah, yeah a bath sounds really good right now, my back is killing me.” Without much more of a fuss, you padded out of the kitchen and ventured upstairs while Rooster got the rest of dinner assembled and ready to serve. He eyed off the four year old by his side. The little shadow he’d had in his life for what felt like an eternity. His best buddy.

“So help me god kid you better eat your spaghetti.”

#terms of endearment// bradley bradshaw #tw: pregnancy #tw: birth

[epilogue-and-prologue]

Happiness - Part 3 - Final Part

Fandom: LOTR Ship: Eomer x F!Reader Trope: Arranged marriage Note: Reader is Elfhelm's daughter and I invented a lot for what I didn't know so probably A LOT of mistakes.

Warnings: Dealing with grief, loved one's deaths, depression, SMUT at some point, poverty, war's aftermath, diplomatic relations, pregnancy, blood, miscarriage

Word counts: 6 773

Tags: @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @fizzyxcustard @sotwk

When you woke up the first time, the bed was warm but empty. The sun outside was barely visible behind the mountains, but Eomer was already gone. A sigh escaped your lips, as you snuggled deeper into the covers. It still smelled like him, crackling fire and sex mixed in a musky embrace. You would not be getting out of bed anytime soon, your eyes fluttering close. The second time you woke up, the sun was higher up, but not all that much. A sound had woken you up, a door closing if you could recall. A dip in the bed made you frown before a soft kiss was placed on your naked shoulder. You could smell the spring’s arrival in the air, rain and wet earth as Eomer’s hand slid around your waist, his clothes soft against your back, a sigh of contentment escaping him.

“Good morning, lover.”

His hands were on yours making this place the only one you would be all day if you could. Upon turning around, you were met with a sincere smile and a kiss on your forehead.

“Good morning, Eomer.”

His name in your mouth was the only music he ever wanted to hear.

“Still not pregnant I gather?”

You laughed at the question. You touched your stomach, as if in search of something.

“No, I don’t think so. Would you mind if we tried again?”

He arched a brow, a mischievous smile appearing on his lips, his eyes shining with something you knew to be lust. It mirrored your own.

“Right now?”

You nodded eagerly, laughing when he pulled his tunic off, grabbing your body, caressing every valley and crease. He made good on his promise to be good to you. That day and all the others too. Nights were spent in his company, sometimes just reading in peace, together. Sometimes you were having diners with your parents, hosting diplomatic venues. Others you were dragging him out of his office, by any means necessary, more often than not finding yourself naked on his desk (or against the door). Even as king, he made it a priority to be with you as much as he could, especially after you made him sleep on his own when he prioritized a meeting with your own father over you.

As the winter months came, your appetite only grew. Nausea plagued you in the mornings, and before you could tell for sure, both your mother and Gera as well as the midwife confirmed it. You were with child.

“Eomer?

-Yes?”

You put your hand around your stomach, smiling brightly. It took nothing else from you for him to understand. He embraced you, kissing you deeply, now even more careful than ever as if in the span of a minute you had turned into fragile glass.

That night was spent around the fireplace, talking about future names.

“I was thinking, if it’s a girl, we could go for Brunhilde?

-My mother’s name? What did you do?

-Nothing that could grant her to be angry with me, I assure you.”

His false air of innocence earned him a hit against his chest, half-hearted while you laughed to yourself, wondering what could have happenned for him to suggest such an old fashion name - and that just to appease your mother’s desires.

Eomer turned even more protective of you as the weeks kept on, as you were running around the castle, helping everywhere and anywhere you could.

As you usually would, but he would have none of it. Especially when his sister gave birth, and you asked, begged, insisted to go see her even if it meant that you would go without him.

“I promise to be careful.

-I know you will be, I know my knights will be too. It is not that I am worried about.”

You frowned, unsettled by his words. He was already laughing around the words of his answer, grabbing your hands.

“It is me. How will I cope, these days without you? Without your touch and your care? How am I supposed to survive?

-You will manage I believe. Don’t act like a child. I cannot have two children to watch over once this one is born.”

He arched a brow before pulling you onto his lap and kissing you deeply.

“All things considered, I might just not let you go see this nephew of ours.”

The way he mentioned off-handedly the fact that he was both yours never failed to bring butterflies to your stomach. Instinctively, you smoothed your hand over your belly. His hand joined yours in a pleasant embrace. He kissed your forehead, leaning into you.

“I will miss you. I will join you in the next few days. Sooner, if I can.”

As his hand was drawing soothing circles where it rested, you let your head fall against his shoulder, lulled into a dreamless sleep.

The day before the departure was a heavy one. You had finished packing for the week, hoping the gifts you brought with you would be enough.

“My love, you are going to spoil the child.

-Better that than nothing. He is not mine, if he grows to be incredibly annoying I’m not the one who will have to handle his moods.”

Eomer’s laughter echoed through the room.

“I do hope, for my brother in law’s sake, that it is not the case.”

Before going to bed, you pulled out an extra blanket for the travel, the weather turning chilly this time of year.

In the middle of the night, you awoke to a sharp pain in your abdomen. Only thinking it was another pregnancy symptom, you slipped out of to fetch some water. You did not make it that far. A cry escaped your lips as you found yourself kneeling over on the ground.

“What is it?”

Eomer woke up when you left the bed and now worry was taking over his better instincts. His words were met with silence. Anguished, he reached out for you, in vain. He lit up the candles. What he found was what his nightmares wished they could conjure.

You were on the floor, sobs escaping you without a sound as if you were biting your tongue. Your hands were gripping the sheets at the edge of the bed. A fever seemed to be running through you. What he would never be able to erase from his memory was the pool of blood between your legs, staining the floor, your nightgown, your legs. Without thinking, he caught you in his arms, your tears wetting his chest as he went and called for the healers.

You could barely move. The pain was so strong, you thought you were going to die. Eomer’s hand was the only thing keeping you tethered to this world. The words of your mother’s prayers accompanied you as the night grew into a new day. She, as well as yourself knew what was happening even before they told you. The midwives were keeping their heads down, wiping the blood from their hands. They had given you a sedative for the pain, waiting until morning to see if you would live. It was not what you wanted. At that moment, all you wanted to do was die, just like your baby had; a part of yourself gone with them.

Dawn brought news of your miscarriage to the population. The infirmary was soon replaced by a bedroom, Eomer’s ever-watchful eyes never leaving you the whole time. From then on, your shared bedroom was abandoned, the home to this memory too vivid at the forefront of your mind. The names you had uttered and wished for, how they would look like with Eomer’s smile, a whole life in front of them. Now, they were gone, no more incarnation than a breeze in summer. Torture would have been kinder.

*

Days passed in a blur, winter morphing into spring and then summer and autumn again. Only Gera, your mother and Eomer could approach you. You were thankful he never insisted you talk to him, just sitting with you, sharing his days, and his concerns even when you would not answer.

You only ever left your bed to wash, change into another nightgown and go back. The maids were going in and out of your room changing your sheets and collecting your dirty clothes. It lasted so long, your parents feared for your life. Eomer’s concern could be seen even from a distance, and the whispers of the maids and the midwives were driving you insane.

As spring grew, your body took his own pace again. Your period came back. Eomer was the one to sleep with you when it happened. He felt helpless, cradling your head against his chest, soothing the pain however he could, panic taking you over, uncontrollable tears streaming down your cheeks. It was the final straw, the blood a sign of final death for that baby you lost, as well as a trigger to that night you would never forget.

Another morning in the winds announcing the beginning of winter, another day of loneliness. Eomer had gone to Gondor, explicitly demanded by King Aragorn concerning raids happening at their borders. He was more worried than he had let on to you. He had no choice but to go. You thought it would provide clarity for him, maybe a breath of fresh air, companionship…

All the things you knew you had deprived him of in the last few months.

Gera entered your room carrying a full plate of food at midday, even though she knew you would barely touch it.

“Your Highness, your breakfast is here.”

It was difficult from your windows to see what was happening downwards. The marketplace inside the city was full, but you could not see who was there, the snow covering the ground and shops in a thin and solid layer, as snowflakes kept falling.

“Thank you, Gera.”

The old woman gasped upon seeing your face, before shutting her mouth closed. She knew her place and you hated it. You had not slept that night, your lids becoming heavy without ever letting you rest.

“Milady, if I may be so bold, you should go get changed.

-I am fine, Gera.”

Her eyes stilled for a moment, reminiscing something you could not see. Her tone became commanding, solid stone against you. She would not let you fall into the abyss like this.

“No, you are not.” She put down her tray on a nearby table. “You have not been since the miscarriage. I know I am out of line, but I refuse to let you wither away like this. You will get dressed and you will accompany me outside. I am not asking.”

Stunned, you could not answer her, even when anger and frustration took you over. You knew she would not let it go. Even more so, when she came back with your mother. Her eyes told you more about your state than your own could.

All the dams had broken in her. She was crying and you received her with open arms, finding yourself crying on her shoulder. Only then did you realize, that seeing you like this must have broken her heart into a thousand pieces. What selfish person would put their mother through such pain? All those years and now you knew her grief, now you knew why she could not stop talking about her children passing. They were ghosts accompanying her everywhere she went. Present until her last breath.

Soon, you found yourself embracing one another, kneeling on the ground. Gera helped you get back up, all sniffles and tears herself. As she was about to bow out, you grabbed her forearm, asking for her to sit with you. She did not leave.

Silently, you all shared the food left on the table, hands clasped over theirs in a sign of gratitude. You spent the rest of the day with both of them, strangely accommodating one another, going out and cooking again, for the first time in months. It had been so long since you left your room, you wondered for a moment if you’d remember where to go. Gera was quick to guide you, as your mother kept talking and talking about how the winter had been so cold this year, the older women distracting you from any semblance of loneliness.

They were a bowl of fresh air, soothing your pain a little bit of gossip and tea, at a time.

*

Eomer’s trip had been silent. Leaving you was the hardest thing he could do. Initially, he had planned to refuse. You were the one who had insisted, telling him he could not put his duty on hold any longer. Seeing his sister felt like a balm to his heart but, when he saw his nephew’s face, his heart broke all over again.

The child was a mere babe still, babbling away at random things, throwing food around. He had been named after a Stewart of Gondor, Thorondir.

He had his mother’s eyes, vivacious and rebellious. He had been letting the boy play with his hair, letting him get it tangled and wet with his slobber. That night, the dark had been quiet, the bird abandoning the planes reaching beyond where his eyes could see. He was thinking of all the memories you both had conjured for that child, the ones that would never come to be.

The night he had found you, his first concern was that he was going to have to watch you die. All the blood you lost had clung to his skin as if it had been his own wound.

After learning of your loss, he knew he had failed you. You were clear with him from the very beginning: you wanted a family. Your dedication and self-sacrifice never ceased to make him proud of you, but what good it did to you, he did not know. His heart clenched, the babe in his arms lulling himself to sleep against his chest. He brought him back to Eowyn, her face a haven of happiness if he had ever seen one. But he had seen one. Yours. Before all of this had happened.

His sister’s hand startled him.

“Lost in thought brother?”

She was putting Thorondir in his cradle, soundly asleep, ever so careful with the small being when she added.

“If you are doing what I think you are doing, let me tell you one thing: this was not your fault. Miscarriages are more common than you would know.

-I…” He stopped, tears forming in his eyes. It stunned Eowyn to silence, her brother never one to show vulnerability before. “I was so helpless… Useless. For all I am, I could not be that for her. I could not be there as I should have.”

The lump in his throat kept him from speaking.

“When I left, her voice was so faint, so frail… She made me promise to keep warm.”

He chuckled, despair distinct in the undertones of his voice.

“Even when so low, she still manages to show care and love for me. I fear she believes I might leave her. I have never felt so lost in my entire life.”

As he was whispering those words, the door opened revealing Faramir, slightly flushed by the evening air, accompanied by somebody Eomer recognized immediately. He stood to his feet in a hurry.

“Your Highness.

-You may ease Eomer. I am here as a friend.”

Aragorn was only wearing his ranger’s attire. He closed the door behind him, Faramir offering him a cup of wine he accepted gratefully.

They all settled a little further away into the rooms, around an oval wooden table, to not wake the babe. Smoke was starting to gather above their heads when Aragorn spoke again.

“When we met earlier, you did not say how much the loss of your child was affecting you.”

Upon his arrival, the King had assured him his thoughts were with him and his wife for their loss. Eomer stayed silent, not feeling capable of articulating any words capable of qualifying what he felt.

“Not many people know this, but Arwen and I found ourselves in a similar situation. She was barely aware she was with child when they were ripped from us.”

Eomer’s tears were making him ache deep inside his chest. For your touch. For you. Who you were before this tragedy. Who he was before too.

“Her grief was overcoming. Her soul shattered. So much so, I feared I was losing her.”

Eowyn and Faramir were gripping each other’s hands, her head resting on his shoulder, as she was watching over her brother, again powerless in helping him grieve.

“Time and only time can heal this wound. The only thing you can do is be there for her, and you must know that your grief is shared amongst the people at this table.

-And I am thankful for that, my lord. Alas, I am at my wits’ end. Every time I leave her room, I fear she… I fear I will find her body the next time I open the door.”

Aragorn’s hand reached for Eomer’s shoulder.

“I know. This fear I have had myself. I know it all too well. In truth, my friend, it will never really pass. All you can do is support her in any way she needs. But I trust you to do so if you have not already.”

The Rohirrim smiled sadly, brows furrowed.

“Only someone who has felt the same thing she has can understand her pain. If she is able, let her know that Arwen would be willing to talk with her on the matter. Considering she just gave birth, moving will not be an option but she offered to write letters.

-This is ever so kind, your Highness.”

He smiled, understanding shining through his eyes.

“No. My wife is the kind one. I am merely the messenger.

-Then, If I may be so bold, thank her for me. And for her.”

These exchanges lasted long into the nights Eomer stayed there and by the end, the pain had receded, the guilt hiding in the nights he could not sleep.

Suddenly, the cold breeze of winter hit Eomer at full force, made him shiver and snapped him out of his memories. The lights of Edoras were dimmed by the snow, he had never been so happy to see them again.

At last, it meant he would see you again.

* “Eomer!”

His steps had first led him to your chambers, and what he found there surprised him. Your mother, Gera and two women he did not know were there, playing a game of cards. You looked less pale than the last time he had seen you and even if your smile did not quite reach your eyes, your embrace was as fierce and strong as he remembered.

“How much I’ve missed you, my love.

-Me too.”

His eyes wandered around the room, bewildered. Feeling somewhat guilty, you pulled him aside.

“I… I hope this is alright. Finding myself in their company when I can’t sleep is very helpful.”

A warmth grew in his chest. Like a flower, you were blooming again, cared for and surrounded by people who only wanted the best for you. He knew you were in good hands. He only hoped to help you grow again from now on.

“You are usually there but since you were not I…

-It is quite alright. I am happy to see you smiling again. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

His lips met the crown of your head, in a departing gesture. You stopped him, a strong sense of longing inside of you.

“We are almost done. Would you wish to stay? I have missed you greatly these past few days. Sleeping without you is…”

His embrace drowned all your worries in a second.

“Of course, I will stay.”

Once the game ended - won by Gera, of course - and the women were gone, Eomer helped you get into your nightgown, before stripping his clothes and going to bed with you. You settled between his legs, his chest to your back. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, before laying down, sleeping a dreamless sleep entangled with you.

After this, Eomer had made a point of spending even more time with you. Going as far as playing cards with the women who surrounded you now. Their names came easily to him when meeting them outside of your “reunions”. One was a merchant’s daughter, she had been married to a man of Rohan long before you, around your age named Hilde and the other was Gera’s daughter, Sofia. He was only now realizing how lonely you had been from the very beginning of your marriage, without the company of other women. Of friends.

You were astonished by the Queen’s offer. It was with a feeble hand you had written the first missive to her. Arwen was a delight. She offered advice and empathy, bonding with you through that shared experience. It was enlightening to understand this situation to be one of many and not only yours, especially considering the envy surrounding the new Queen. She had been somewhat like you, losing her people and embracing a new one she had to learn the ways of. Gracefully some would say. With force and determination, you had come to know. Throughout these exchanges, you formed a deep-rooted friendship akin to the one you had with Eowyn, despite the distance.

Days passed, weeks even bringing the warm air of spring with each passing moment, but something was still missing from your life. Your husband. He was there. Always there for you. You had talked about the grief and sorrow this loss had given you. He had been honest and gentle, always listenning to you.

Never had you mentioned the idea of trying for a child again. Yet, the idea was growing in you, each day, watered by the tales of your friends about their children. The subject was a difficult one, and you were still frightened at the thought that you could lose it again. Yet, even without the idea of having heirs, you were missing Eomer’s touch more than anything. It got lonely, the nights he would spend with you without so much as an attempt to be intimate with you. You dreamed of it, waking up at odds hours of the night, not even entertaining the idea of relieving yourself from this agony.

The desire in you was restless and you could not seem to be able to bear it any longer.

A knock on the door startled Eomer awake. Engrossed in his letters, he had not seen you standing there, nor heard you calling out his name.

“Good morning.”

The soft kiss you placed on his cheek made him warm and yearning for more. Even the faintest touch would light that fire in him. It had been so long since you had shared intimacy, he feared he would not remember how to please you.

“Good morning.”

Your hands were fidgeting with the hem of your sleeves, eyes cast away from him. You wanted to tell him. You wanted to tell him how much you desired him to be with you again. All those words were neat and in order in your mind. To pull them out of there was a whole other story.

When his eyes were met by your avoidance, his eyebrows furrowed, jaws tightening resisting the urgent feeling of worry deep within his chest.

“What is it, my love?”

The sweet nothings. The sweet nothings were always the things that made you want him the most. Need him the most. He excelled in the art of body language but those words were the only triggers you needed for your body to want him.

He rose to his feet, taking your hands in his. The warmth spread in your cheeks, while his eyes were racking your face in search of what had happened. You gripped his hands tighter in yours, not looking at his face. You would have to face him at some point. You were a Queen after all. Queens did not hide, nor shamed from what they wanted.

Keeping that thought in mind, your grip tightened even more on his hands, before traveling up his chest, where your fingers weaved themselves on the linen of his shirt.

Your tone was so soft, lips red from nervous biting, eyes looking at him from under your lashes. Eomer’s train of thoughts entirely stopped when you pushed yourself up, your lips to his ear. The urgency in your words did not help.

“I want you, now, husband. Or I am going to lose my mind.”

In an instant, he had you over his shoulder his arms secured around your waist, while you were laughing at the audacity. Not one person you stumbled upon while you regained your shared room said a thing about the uncanny position you were in. Once arrived, he let you down, only to dive into your neck, nipping your skin there, while his hands were undoing your corset’s bonds.

“How much I missed you… How I missed your touch…”

There was a hunger in his words that made you ache for him deep in your heart. You grabbed onto his face, meeting his lustful eyes. Despite the presence of desire there, the ever-present adoration had made an appearance too. How much you wanted this man, or how much you cared for him could not be carried into any language known to mankind. Against his lips, you whispered “I love you” in a weak attempt to pour all those feelings somewhere, anyway. He kissed you ferociously, biting lightly on your lower lip. Eomer’s hands grabbed your dress, all but tearing it down from your body. His fingertips found their way up and down your spine, shivers following in their paths. On the other hand, you could not get him to take off any of his clothing which was infuriating you more than anything.

“Eomer…

-Yes, my love?”

Another breathless kiss made you dizzy, as he was expertly walking you back against your bed. You managed to stop him somehow.

“Eomer, get naked, now.”

He smiled against your collarbone, ever so smug in his ways, knowing perfectly the effect he had on you. Nonetheless, he obeyed you in a heartbeat, before pulling you down with him on the undone mattress.

His skin was littered with kisses, leaving behind traces of your passage in the form of bruises he would be unable to hide after the facts. He heaved a sigh at the feeling of your hands on him, the wet sounds of your mouth making him harder than he already was. Before he could stop you, your wicked and sinful tongue languidly wrapped itself around the tip of his cock and he jerked involuntarily against you. He was about to speak, when you pulled him inside your mouth, your hands wandering down his shaft in leisured and measured caresses. He was speechless, mouth dry, running only on the sound of your ministrations and the pleasure it elicited in him.

The whimpers he let out could have made you come in an instant. As much as you liked pleasuring him, you could not wait any longer to have him inside you, rocking his hips violently against yours. You were more than ready for it.

He knew what you wanted the moment you stopped to hover above him, teasing his tip with your wet mound. He cursed under his breath, making you giggle. He loved that sound almost as much as the ones you made in pleasure.

Now, under him, his hair was tickling your breasts in an ever-languishingly slow dance as he positioned himself before you. One movement of his hips and he was inside you. After that, it was impossible to keep yourself from meeting him in rhythm with his thrusts, tearing your name out of him as many times as you could. Your hands were clawing at his back, earning grunts and moans from him. You could feel him hit that spot every time he dragged himself in and out, completely seethed into you, filling you up until you could not tell what day it was.

The rapidly growing coil inside of you finally snapped, your back arching against him, and your mouth opened in a cry. As he felt you clenching around him, his hips stopped and the warmth of his semen sept inside you.

Eomer stayed there, not moving. He met your eyes, a deep frown there and a smile on your face. How he had missed that smile in that light, in that bed, with the feeling of you all over him. He pulled out soon after, tucking you under his chin, the beddings spread around you, modesty long forgotten. The pad of his fingers was a little rough against your skin, leaving trails of shivers behind.

You warmed yourself up in his embrace, pulling a sheet up for good measure. No words were needed when he looked down at you, content and happy, sharing a tender kiss with him.

After that occurrence, you resumed your intercourses almost daily. If a meeting was boring him, he would sneak out and find you. It came to the point, when you were certain every person living within these walls had seen or heard you at some point. Including, to your greatest dismay, your parents.

Upon entering the second year of your marriage, you found yourself pregnant again. Not so unlike the first time, you knew that you were with child but somehow you knew you would bear the child into this world against all odds. Still, the sickness overcoming you, the first months were spent on bedrest, to your greatest regret.

Hilde kept you company while Sofia was talking your ear off about the gossip she’d heard. Your mother and Gera were more silent, always looking at your stomach as if in fear fate would repeat itself. Even when you told them it would not. Specifically, then.

When you finally managed to get up and eat food without rejecting everything afterwards, your routine came back. Cooking in the kitchens, seeing the orphanages and their occupants during their recess at school, eating with Eomer at dinner always, having him eat you out afterwards…

The first months of this pregnancy felt normal and safe. Your belly was growing more and more, your skin stretching, soft scars littering your otherwise unmarred skin. Eomer loved those scars. He said that they were proof of the proper growth inside of you and could not be more proud you wore them. You liked to think of them as traces of your upcoming motherhood and it made you so emotional, you cried a few times at unfortunate moments. Eomer had also learned that your appetite had multiplied as well as your tastes. Spicy food was all you wanted to eat and he had to find a way to get those for you, even in the middle of the night. Poor husband of yours did not know what to do with himself when you were looking at him with those pleading eyes.

A few days into your sixth month, while partaking in a new card game with your friends, you felt a sharp pain in your lower abdomen. You had felt movement before but never like this. Somewhat akin to a cramp but not quite like it either. Worry started to grow, but your mother reassured you quickly.

“The baby is kicking my dear.”

The women around the table cooed, trying to get a feel of your stomach. Gera thwarted them all away, in her understanding that it had made her want to kick people when she was pregnant herself. Your mother wholeheartedly agreed.

When you told Eomer that very same day, he paled in an instant.

“May I?”

You nodded, smiling until it hurt. You could not be happier. He kneeled in front of your seat, before pressing his right hand against your swollen stomach. Nothing happened until they kicked again, where his hand was resting. He looked up, bewildered and amazed by the small action, left without words. He had the habit of talking to them before, but now, his instincts were completely going awry, scared to death for both your safeties.

“In the beginning, I felt as if it could still be ripped away from us so easily… But, when she started kicking I knew it was there. Happening. I knew I had to meet her and let her know that I would always be there for her… -How do you know it’s a girl?”

He had kissed your brow, eyes shining with something you did not know. “A hunch. She reaches for me as you do.”

“What do you mean?”

His gaze on you softened, a hand coming to rest on your ever-growing stomach.

“In your sleep, you reach out to me. She does the same thing.”

He kissed the palm of your hand, resting against his cheek, watching as you found yourself crying again, an occurrence he had come to know was harmless even if frequent during this pregnancy. Things were finally looking up. His eyes trailed down to your stomach again, placing a kiss there as a blessing. She was going to be just fine. He was sure of it.

*

Giving birth, as all the women around you had told you, was the worst part.

Specifically the part when you were begging for relief, Eomer holding one of your hands while your mother held the other the midwife telling you to push and push again as if you had not done it all already. And the worst part was that when your son was born, with light hair and soft eyes, perfect as he was, the pain was not over.

That moment led you to know that you had been pregnant with not one child but with two.

Eomer had been right. Your daughter reached for him the moment she laid eyes on him, and almost instantly stopped crying when carried into his arms.

Such a daddy’s girl, she was.

They would be growing up so fast. So soon.

You could not wait.

*

“Idis, Alaric, come back here!”

Eomer’s words were lost in the wind as his children ran down the hill, laughing at your slower pace.

“Let them. You know they always come back.

-I know.”

He kissed your brow gently, before changing his mind and whisking you up in his arms claiming your lips in a fiery embrace.

“Yet, they know how to get themselves into trouble quicker than even Eowyn’s son and that is saying something.

-I believe they inherited that from you.”

You smirked as he let you down. His eyes were still focused on the two silhouettes running in the grass, tackling on another to the ground.

“Idis, aim for the legs!”

You smacked his shoulder lightly.

“Don’t encourage them. Besides, I thought women had no place on the battlefield.”

Eowyn had told you about his words for her, years before. Neither of you, ever since he had a daughter, had let him live it down.

“Am I not allowed to change my mind?

-Or, Idis asked, and you yielded.”

He did not say anything, smiling against himself, but you could see the faint embarrassment in his eyes before he hid his face in the crook of your neck, quickly distracting you with feverish kisses.

“Eomer!”

The fact that the children were not far was a problem he did not seem very concerned with. Nor that you were already 5 months pregnant with the third one.

“It is entirely your fault I cannot keep up with the children we already have. Do you really want to aggravate your case?

-How is it my fault?”

In a gentle gesture, you put your hands around your belly. You came closer to him, whispering only for his ears to hear.

“I am pretty sure that you were the one who insisted on having another go with this. If I remember properly, you did everything you could to keep me in bed.

-As if you were resisting it in the first place.”

Faking exasperation, you shook your head at him. Before you could add to your aggravation with the man, your father appeared on the horizon, trotting to him on his horse. Once he reached you, he kissed your cheek tenderly and saluted his king.

“I am sorry to interrupt the family time but the emissaries have arrived.

-Eowyn and Faramir have arrived? I thought they were not due before tomorrow.

-Well yes and no. They arrived with company, and I am afraid that we’ll need more rooms.”

You exchanged a look with Eomer before you called back the children once more, this time bribing them with horses time. And grandpa. They adored their grandpa and it was adorable to see them run circles around the man.

“Well, I assume two Hobbits are in the midst?

-Yes, my lord.

-As well as a family of Gondor’s royalty?

-Yes, indeed my lord.” Eomer met your eyes, as you tried to keep the children from climbing the horse all on their own. You laughed at his bewildered face.

“That is all?

-Well, not exactly. You see, the Hobbits seem to have brought with them their families and Hobbits have very extended families. As well as numerous friends, such as a famous fellowship, they organized to reunite here.”

Before he could implode under the implications it would have, you stopped your husband’s train of thoughts.

“Eomer, I have organized for this. We were warned by your sister so I prepared the castle accordingly. She mentioned not telling you about it, but I fear you might faint if the surprise lasts any longer.

-You knew?”

His eyes grew serious. The children knew it all too well. It was these eyes they saw when they misbehaved.

“Ohoh, Mum’s in trouble.” Idis laughed behind her grandpa’s legs. He picked her up with some difficulty, holding her on his side. Elfhelm smirked at her reaction. “Yes, Mum is indeed in trouble. Come on little beasts, let’s get on grandpa’s horse and go back to the castle alright?”

Cries of glee erupted from the twins as he settled Idis in front and Alaric behind her. The three of them seemed rather amused by the situation, laughing as they trotted back towards the castle’s entrance.

You were now face to face with Eomer’s stern looks.

“You are in so much trouble.”

Your King was a lot of things but a skilled liar was not one of them. Soon, his face broke out in a mischievous smile, and you bolted knowing all too well what it meant.

He caught up with incredibly fast, tumbling you both down in the wild flowers, although he made sure he would be taking the most of the fall. Your wrists ended up loosely pinned to the ground, your husband looking down at you, an arched brow and that air about him that made you doubt you’d ever fall out of love with him. Pure adoration was not too much of a word to use when it came down to that face. It looked like your own, of that you were sure.

“What can I do to get out of this trouble, my lord.

-You know I hate it when you call me that and for that you shall pay.”

He smothered you kisses, tickling your sides until you were both breathless besides one another. Eomer’s fingertips traced down the shape of your face softly, before you cupped his hand with your own.

“We should be going.

-No.

-Eomer…

-No, I want to keep looking at you like this for as long as I can.”

He shushed you with a kiss you would not forget soon, cradling your face and neck with his hands, warm and flush against your skin.

This was a moment you would never forget, for all the moments with him were memorable. Everything you had lived through, the heartbreak and the harshness of parenthood sometimes, the loss of your mother a year after giving birth. Now you knew. Of all the marriages you could have had, only wishing for contentment for this one was a mistake, for you were happy and no one could take it away from your family. Not now, not ever.

For as long as you had each other, the story would continue and you would be alright.

Always.

#lotr fanfiction #lotr imagine #eomer x reader #eomer x f!reader #tw: sex #tw: miscarriage #tw: pregnancy #tw: birth #tw: blood #tw: mental health issues

[gorgosim]

Generation 16 is born! Welcome to the sims world, Apollo. 💜 Elara's labor took about 16 hours, she intended to have a fully natural birth originally, but after a couple hours of labor pains, she caved and got an epidural. Luckily Lucia, Ella, Leilani and Christos took amazing care of her and were extremely patient. You don't go in labor and not have an episode of frustration or two. 😅

#tw: childbirth #tw: birth #s4 #ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #ts4 legacy #ts4 gameplay #sims 4 gameplay #clc15 #collectorslegacy

[ofmermaidstories]

You don’t know where your son came from.

Ostensibly, he’s the best of you and Deku both—his big eyes are all Izuku’s, his grin (sharp and fleeting) is all yours. But your little boy burns with so much life, you don’t know where he gets it from, what fiery star he’s mined it from. Before he was born, before he even existed, a psychic had told you three things about him: that he had been here before, that he would be a leader, and that he would be your husband’s biggest heartache.

(“I don’t have a husband,” you’d told her, stoutly. You were twenty three and chronically single, at that stage; you never liked the people around you enough to let them close enough to change your mind.

She arched an eyebrow, but didn’t look up from the playing cards she was now flipping over, like she was reading the future in the red hearts, the black spades.

“Don’t sweat the details,” she’d said, unbothered, like she hadn’t just told you your future child and husband were hurtling towards some great pain you couldn’t save them from. “He’s on his way now. He needs you just as much as you need him, I think. And the boy. Eventually.”

“You just said they’re gonna hate each other,” you pointed out, annoyed, and the woman sighs. She hadn’t been your idea of a psychic at all—with her neatly kept, shining hair and the designer polo shirt she was wearing. The tennis-white shoes, the singular golden bangle.

“I said he’d be your husband’s biggest heartache,” she reminds you. “That could mean anything. Use your imagination. You’re going to need it, with the life you have in front of you.”

You hadn’t been very impressed, with that—the feeling mutual, apparently, since she ended the session shortly after. And though you laughed about it with your friends later on, you thought of it again when you met Deku—Izuku. Izuku, and the way he had taken your hand, promising you he was there, that you were safe—that you were safe with him.)

You almost didn’t have him—you almost didn’t want him, want children. What would you do with one? Dedicate the rest of your life to it? How could you ensure it’d be safe? You couldn’t—no one could, not even your superhero husband. Your superhero husband who had been the epicentre of the war that tore Japan apart, when you were both teens. Who had lost mentors and classmates alike to it. Who knew the cost of what he was asking of you.

(Izuku brings it up long before you’re engaged, in the dark when you’re flush against him, his salty skin.

“Have you ever—have you ever thought of—”

You frown against where you’d been pressing lazy, afterglow kisses to his collarbone, pulling away to continue frowning into the night, as he trailed gentle fingers down your spine.

“No.” You say. And then after a moment, when that doesn’t stop his tenderness, his careful touching, you admit, “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want.”

The what do you want goes unsaid, but Izuku answers it anyway.

“I like kids,” he whispers like it’s a secret, like he doesn’t keep every card and drawing that comes his way, like he isn’t the biggest sucker walking the planet. “And I… I trust the world enough to have them.”

Your skin prickles. He’s been here before, the psychic had said. He’ll know what he’s doing. He’s going to lead people. And—

Her mouth had pinched, spidery hands stilling on the cards—clubs, spades, hearts—in front of her.

And what? You had asked.

And he’s going to be your husband’s biggest heartache.)

In the end, it’s Izuku’s understanding that convinces you to give him the baby you were promised, so many years ago.

“I want to be with you,” he’d said, his fingers twining in yours, tight. “It doesn’t matter what we do, or don’t do. It’s you I’m choosing.”

You knew how much he wanted kids. It was in the way his face would light up, when presented with the newborn of one of the Agency girls. His gentle hands, helping a child down from the ruins of a smouldering building. The way he believed in them being the future.

“I choose you, too.” You tell him in return, confident. “And—and… whatever—whoever—we bring into this world.”

(His brow had knitted, not understanding—leaving you standing there with your hands in his, eyebrows raised, waiting for him to get it.

When he does, his eyes widen—big and green. And hopeful, his face already tightening with the tears that came to him so easily—when he was happy, when he was angry. Whenever he was overwhelmed. “You want to—”

You lift his hand to your mouth, and kiss his scars. “Yeah,” you tell him. “I want to.”)

Your son’s entrance into this world is one of the worst things you’ve ever gone through—and one of the best.

Your labour lasts 30 hours; you don’t sleep at all during it. The baby comes out blue, too choked during his entrance to understand how important breathing is, his thin, bird-like shoulder almost dislocating, trying to pass through; you, in turn, almost die from the bleeding, caught only by a sharp-eyed doctor who saw the early warning signs, as the green lightning of Izuku’s Quirk crackled along his hands, helpless.

You will never do it again. To free your baby boy the doctors had to cut you, deeply, to your asshole; a episiotomy, widening the passage for him. Afterwards, much afterwards when you’re happy and drowsy and holding your tiny, perfect baby in your arms, the doctor that saved your life will tell you that incontinence was a common side-effort of the incision; that you wouldn’t be able to wear high heels again for a while, without putting tension on your stitches. That even trying to pee would be excruciating.

But it didn’t matter: you had everything in your hands, bundled up. Your angry-faced little son, ugly and alien, his tiny fists balled up against himself.

Izuku couldn’t stop his tears, wiping a trembling hand at his eyes every now and then, his lips against your hair, against the shoreline briny smell of your newborn’s head.

“We’re not doing this again,” he whispered. “I’m—this is enough. You’re enough.”

You rubbed your face against his shoulder, his tremors, and traced a delicate finger along the tiny pout of your son’s mouth.

“We’re enough,” you tell him.

In response, Izuku holds you tighter.

In retrospect, your son’s birth should’ve been the warning sign. He is so foreign. He has so much attitude, so much life. He is fearless and unruffled by his father’s fussing; from the moment he can look around him, alert, he wants to be apart of it all, reaching up to Izuku, reaching up to the friends that come and surround him, like immortal godparents. He toddles after them—at first in fat, clumsy infant steps, then more sure-footed, quick, picking up the frightening speed children came with. It makes Izuku worry, you know, especially in the early days, when the baby would throw angry screaming fits that dissolved into heartbreaking sobs, just because Izuku wouldn’t—couldn’t—take him to work with him.

“I think he’s going to be a Pro,” you tell your husband, playful. You’re teasing him—before your son was born, it was all Izuku wanted, a child that he could be there for, someone who he could fight together with. But now all your little boy had to do was drop to the floor too fast, bonk his head on the table leg at the wrong angle and Izuku would be there, brow furrowed, so worried that he couldn’t protect him from every hurt, no matter how big or how small. “He’s going to be just like his father, dashing off to save the world every day.”

“I don’t—” Izuku stops himself, almost guiltily, your baby boy sagging in his arms, asleep. “I just want him to be happy, to be safe.” Izuku whispered.

You smile, because you’ve heard this a thousand times before; your heart breaking every time. Izuku kept photos of everyone he lost—a small shrine of them, faces you never knew in person. Some older. Some far too young, too golden, too alive.

He’s going to be your husband’s biggest heartache.

“I know,” you say, soft. “I know you do.”

Izuku’s hand was big enough to span your baby’s head completely; cradling him, fingers soft in his downy curls. Protective. This was the only time your son would tolerate this touch, this hovering, and some part of you—the part that thinks of your psychic’s words—thinks the timer you two have with him is set much shorter than either of you realise.

Your answer to that is to simply not think about it.

It’s easy enough not to; taking care of a child and working at the same time wipes you out, gives you little time to work yourself up into the same morbid moods Izuku could frenzy himself into. You’re too concerned with making sure your stupid son doesn’t break his neck, stops tracking mud throughout the house, releases the cohort of tiny frogs he’s keeping under his bed, in one of his father’s shoeboxes. At three he’s already a menace, a whole other human of his own and you are reminded, daily, of what it means to give birth to someone—to bring another human being, whole and complete, into this world.

“Play Agencies with me!” you hear him shout from the backyard, one day. He’d turned four in the spring; it was now a lazy, balmy summer, and he was spending the golden days as wild as the beetles and bugs that flitted along the treeline.

You stick your head out the sliding door, frowning. “Talk nicer to your uncle Kiri, brat!” You call out.

In answer you hear Kirishima’s laughter; your son probably scowling, fearlessly, at your reprimand.

“Play Agencies PLEASE!” you hear him shout, even louder—for your benefit, obviously. Kiri must agree, however, and you can hear your boy marching around the yard, bellowing out, “Number! One! Heroes! Let’s roll out! Round and round and round we go!”

In comparison, it’s silent in the kitchen, and you sigh as Izuku steps back in from where he’d been watching them, on the patio.

“I’m sure I wasn’t that bad at his age,” you say, a joke—but you stop when you see your husband’s face, too soft. His eyes, too big—too shiny.

“You alright?” You ask, wondering if it had been a rougher week at work than you realised.

But Izuku shakes his head, shoulders jerking as your son’s song—his chant—continues on, from outside.

“It’s nothing,” he says. “He reminds me of… he… it’s nothing.”

You take his hand in yours, and too easily he pulls you to him. Your husband’s biggest heartache, the psychic had said. She did say you would need an imagination, with this life.

“I’m just—I’m just happy,” Izuku whispers, smiling through his tears.

It’s golden and bright and the cicadas are shrilling outside, the chorus underneath your child’s song, still being belted out, Kirishima catching on enough to join in. It’s a beautiful day—soon the others would arrive for lunch, the motley crew of heroes that had followed each other through school and warzones and the years, the sorrows that came with them, and the joys.

You breathe in the scent of Izuku’s shirt, his skin underneath it. “It’s okay,” you tell him, quietly. A secret between the two of you, in the small section of sunlight in your kitchen. “He’ll be here for a long while yet,” you promise him. This time is silent—but with the way your husband’s arms tighten around you, you think he heard it anyway.

#prompts and drabbles and other things #trigger warning for BABIES 👶🏼 !!!! #andy don’t look #NOT andy friendly #andy go away #actual trigger warning for birth tho bc god speed #tw: birth #everything i’ve ever learnt about giving birth to another human being has been against my will so now i am imparting that to u guys ur welc #there’s no point to this i just wanted to drabble okay goodbye im done

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

If someone is tethered to you and relies on you for life, you have every right to disconnect them and kill them. But that isn't a decision that should be made lightly. Its still a human life, just like taking someone off life support even if they have no brain activity is taking a human life. Would drinking while pregnant be ok if you got an abortion later? Why would causing it to develop incorrectly be an issue at all if you can end its life without even a second of reflection?

Abortion is 100% morally correct. But it does need to be taken seriously.

It’s not a human life lol. It’s a creepy little parasite that can leave its host disabled or dead after it becomes a human baby.

If someone is getting an abortion and that’s a sure thing, then there is nothing wrong with them drinking while pregnant. If they’re going through with the deworming process it doesn’t matter if the worms have a little wine first. Aborting a fetus is not the same as taking a human being off of life support because one is a weird little leech tapeworm thing and the other is a human person who had a life. Hope that helps.

And honestly? If someone makes a big whoops and realizes they were pregnant several weeks or even months in after doing a lot of drinking? Yeah, they should get an abortion about it probably and there isn’t a problem with that.

This thing isn’t a human. It doesn’t need human rights. Just because it can transform into a human baby over a period of nine months does not mean it’s a human. I don’t even care if it’s later in the pregnancy to where it more closely resembles a baby. It’s not a human being any more than a teratoma or culture of human cells is a human being.

If someone wants to abort that thing and feel no remorse? Good. That’s a perfectly normal response to a parasite. If someone wants to let that thing turn into a baby and give birth to it? Sure. That’s perfectly normal as well.

It’s an important and difficult decision for some, and it’s very simple for others. That’s fine. You have no right to tell people they have to take an abortion seriously. If it doesn’t matter to the person it’s growing inside of, it shouldn’t matter to you or anyone else.

#Tw: fetus #tw: embryo #tw: birth #I guess

[halfway-happyyy]

Would love something like you’re in labor and Bradley’s there. Just something fluffy :)

ask and you shall receive! also i've never been in labor, so i tried my best to figure it out.

warnings include: mentions of a (traumatic) labor/birth.

An intrinsic change occurs in Rooster Bradshaw a week after he finds out you’re pregnant with his child.

He stops vying for missions he knows he’d be hard-pressed to come back from.

Where he used to do a buck-thirty down the highway on any given day- rain or shine, he now obsessively follows the speed limit.

Unnecessary risks are simply a thing of the past.

So when the doctor tells you in the delivery room that your baby currently rests in the footling breech position (one leg below the buttocks, the other squished up underneath them) his initial reaction is anger. What went wrong? What could he have done differently to ensure that this didn’t happen? And then he starts to barter in his fury.

If you let my wife and baby come out of this happy and healthy, I’ll never ask for another goddamn thing as long as I live…

“I’m scared, Rooster.”

And he is too.

He’s absolutely terrified of the thought of you in pain or distress of any kind; and the idea of losing the ability to hold his child before they can even manage their first few breaths causes the hair to prickle at the back of his neck.

He takes your hand in his and kisses it. “Whatever happens next kid, it’s going to be alright.”

And this is how he pushes through the fear. Because when you’re this far in it- when it’s so close you can feel the blazing heat of it down your back, there’s no other choice but to dive further into it. So, he pushes the damp hair back from your forehead and places his lips there.

“You can do this, baby. I’ll be right here.”

And as he watches them wheel you away to the operating room, a piece of his heart splinters and dies.

Maverick arrives ten minutes later, perspiration shines on his forehead as he removes the aviators from his face. A sizeable bouquet of wrapped flowers hangs from his left hand. “How is she? I came as soon as you called.”

Rooster glances at him, unaware of how to broach the subject without falling apart. “She’s in operation.”

Maverick’s face drops. “Operation?”

Rooster swallows thickly. “The baby… somehow between our 36-week checkup and now, the baby’s changed positions to a partial breech. She’s gone in for an emergency c-section.”

Maverick drops to the bench beside Rooster, the right words fizzle and fade in the hollow of his throat. “I’m so sorry, Bradley.”

It’s the idea of losing everything he’s worked so hard for that brings him to the brink of insanity. So many things were ripped from him that meaningful connections became incredibly hard to come by, until he met you. And it was both terrifying and exhilarating to know that that part of himself didn’t die with his father.

“Did anyone else have a hard time writing their vows?” Rooster asks one evening over beers at the Hard Deck.

Bob pushes the wire-framed glasses farther up the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “No, I had mine written a month after I met May.”

Hangman guffaws loudly at that. “I’m sure you did, Bob.”

“Oh, he’s not lying.” Phoenix affirms. “What have you got written so far, Rooster?”

Hangman reads the look on his best friend’s face like an open book, his expression incredulous. “Bradshaw, you’re getting hitched in three weeks, and you still haven’t written your vows yet?”

Rooster’s cheeks grow warm under the influence of beer and embarrassment. “I just… don’t know how to convey to her everything she means to me. What her love and support symbolizes.”

Coyote throws a dart at the board a few feet from them and turns to Rooster, his grin wide and infectious. “For the right price my friend, I would be happy to write your vows for you.”

Phoenix rolls her eyes and throws a napkin airplane at his head. “Don’t be a dick, Coyote.”

“I have a rough outline.” Rooster murmurs, defensively.

Phoenix places a reassuring hand over his shoulder blade. “Then the rest will fall into place, buddy.”

“She’s a fighter,” Maverick murmurs, piercing the silence and rousing Rooster from his reverie. “And if the baby she’s about to bring into this world is anything like its grandparents, then you have little to worry about. She is not alone in there, Bradley.”

And it’s then that Rooster hangs his head and gives himself over to the emotions he had been trying so hard to fight off.

And none of this is fair. His wife shouldn’t be in emergency surgery, and Goose should still be here.

Tears stream in rivers down Rooster’s face now but Maverick makes no move to touch him; his unwavering presence is enough- has always been enough. It’s the unshakable bond that two people who have lost something precious to them share. It’s an unspoken understanding; I miss them as much as you do. Rooster couldn’t comprehend any of it at the beginning; even balked at it, but Maverick’s existence in his life has always been a gift.

“I’m the last person you should be going to for advice on wedding vows,” Maverick laughs and throws down the wrench he had been using to tinker around his plane with.

Rooster can’t argue that; the man had been a bachelor his entire life. “You never thought you’d marry?”

Maverick laughs again. “Thought? Maybe. But expectation and reality rarely ever see eye to eye.”

Silence settles between the pair of them; words left unsaid but certainly felt. Maverick wipes the black oil from his hands on a worn cloth and steps away from the plane to give his full and undivided attention to Rooster. “For what it’s worth- she knows you, Bradley. In every way that a future wife can know a husband. And if you are honest in your feelings for her, the rest will fall into place.”

Rooster’s gaze drifts to the cork board a couple feet away. To the smiling photographs of his mother and father that decorate every square inch of free space and something heavy tugs at his heart. “I miss them, Mav.”

“Me too, kid.”

“Mr. Bradshaw?” Rooster jerks up from the curve of Maverick’s shoulder where he had dozed off. Your doctor is standing off to the side, an expectant smile pulls at the corners of her lips. “Your wife has just done a tremendous job. Would you like to come hold your baby girl?”

Rooster’s gaze travels to Maverick’s as if to check for confirmation, and the elder man nods his head, happy tears brimming in the depths of his blue eyes. “You heard her right, kid. Go get her.”

Rooster rushes down the hall to be next to you; holds your face in his hands like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “You did it, baby. I’m so proud of you…” His tears wet your face, mingling with your own as he peppers you with kisses.

“She has your eyes,” You whisper.

Rooster rises from his position at the side of your bed to take his newborn baby girl into his arms. She is breathtaking in her fragility; a true wonder to marvel at her. He traces a fingertip down the bridge of her tiny nose and beams at her. “Thanks for taking care of them, pops.”

#dreamed this up quick so forgive me if its not what you envisioned #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun: maverick #fluff #writing #asks #tw: birth #tw: labor

[choices-binglebonkus]

I will never understand how TRR MC giving birth didn’t traumatize the hell out of her or give her any kind of health complications

-she was injured and FORCED into labor in the middle of a ball surrounded by important nobility and other guests

-during a palace lockdown with a known killer on the loose somewhere

-without an epidural or anesthesia of ANY kind

-and was in labor for HOURS on end with all of this in mind

Like girl are you okay??? How are you not traumatized as fuck? I would’ve died right there on the ballroom floor

#I’m not joking when I say trh book 2 chapter 1 is the most terrifying chapter in choices #it is absolutely HORRIFYING #tw: birth #tw: pregnancy #tw: pregnancy mention #the royal heir #choices the royal heir #trh #choices trh #choices stories you play #playchoices #choices stories we play #pixelberry #pixelberry studios #playchoices fandom #choices stories you play fandom #choices stories we play fandom #choices the royal romance #the royal romance #choices trr #trr

[library-of-ohara]

Anon requested

hi :(( i'm having a wicked baby fever and was wondering if i could request for the asl brothers react to you saying youre pregnant, how they act while youre pregnant and how they act when youre giving birth + after giving birth >.< (yes this is most wicked baby fever ive had) thank you !!

Oh boy, I hope you'll be alright. That's a fever that can be very exhausting to have in the long run, so stay safe. XD. Anyway, let's see how the borhters will react. One thing I'll say ahead, is that with Luffy, reader isn't his s/o, but his friend. I'm not writing Luffy in any romantic/sexual relationship.

This was written by Didi [@usopp-writes]

Enjoy <3

Ace and Sabo x female reader (serparately) Luffy and female reader SFW Word count: 1,164 TW: Pregnancy, birth, post birth

Ace

When you tell him that you’re pregnant, he freaks out at first. He’d been so careful, he wasn’t ready to have kids, he wasn’t sure he wanted any. Why would he curse his child with his blood? Are you sure you’re pregnant?

You of course knew of his self-doubt and how insecure he was about being allowed to live, yet hearing him say all the above made you sad.

Marco is the one to knock some senses into him, when he sees your happiness leave your eyes and tears stinging in them instead.

Ace shuts up, when he sees the tears and apologizes over and over again.

Throughout your pregnancy, you aren’t the only one with mood swings. Ace is just as bad, going from a loving boyfriend who’s excited to become a father, to the self-loathing male that thinks he’d doomed you and his child.

It is definitely not an easy pregnancy emotionally and if it hadn’t been for the rest of the crew, you would have not gotten through it. You couldn’t count on Ace for emotional support or practical.

When you’re in labor, Ace tries hard to be there for you, but seeing you in so much pain, isn’t easy for him. He loves you, but sometimes love isn’t enough. You’re happy that Marco and Deuce are there to help you through it. However, Ace doesn’t leave your side either, he’s just not emotionally there.

You’re tired after a long labor, but once you hear your child’s screams, you smile. Holding your little baby for the first time, washes away the pain and you can’t believe you’d grown such a miracle inside of you. You cry happily.

Ace stand there at your side, seeing this little miracle in your arms and he can’t believe he’s been part of its creation. Something inside of him starts to break down.

After the baby had some food, Marco takes them and nudges Ace along to show him how to change diapers. When Ace holds his baby for the first time, he can’t help but smile and feel protective.

“Hey there. I’m your daddy.” He whispers softly, though loud enough for you all to hear. There’s some tenderness and awe in his voice and you get a feeling that everything will be alright.

Ace slowly takes on the responsibility of being a father and helps you out, though he will still have his negative feelings and mood swings now and then, though it’s less than it has been in years.

Sabo

When you tell Sabo that you’re pregnant, he stares at you with wide open eyes for a while. Blinking, he takes his time to progress your words. You are pregnant. With his kid. He’s going to be a father.

Then he smiles and pulls you close, kissing your head, your face and then your lips. He’s so happy to start a family with you.

You know that it means you won’t be allowed on any missions, Sabo wouldn’t want you to and neither would Dragon. It doesn’t mean you will be doing nothing for the entire pregnancy. There’s still a lot to do and Sabo makes sure you have something to do, but aren’t overworked either.

Whenever he comes back from a mission, he has brought something for your unborn child. Mostly clothes, but also toys now and then.

As your due day is closing in, Sabo isn’t allowed to leave HQ, as Dragon wants him to be there when you give birth.

He’ll be at your side all the time, holding your hand, guiding you through the delivery, just as he’d read and learnt to do.

He cries with you, when he hears your baby scream for the first time and he looks so proud, when you hold your baby for the first time.

When he gets to hold his little baby, it seems as if he has grown taller. Loving and doting eyes looks down at the wrinkled face in his arms.

“Welcome to the world, my little prince/princess.” He smiles.

Sabo is overwhelmed with happiness and pride. Koala is the one to drag him out to get a shower or some fresh air or just so you can rest up, as he else will be at your side all the time, just watching your little baby breathe.

Luffy

When you tell Luffy that you’re pregnant, he just stares blankly at you. He’s your friend and captain, you had to tell him this, as he’s the one deciding if you can stay or should leave the ship.

Minutes pass and he keeps staring blankly at you, until he looks at Usopp, who is staring wide eyed at you. “What does pregnant mean?” Luffy asks his friend and you shake your head.

“It means a baby is growing inside of me.” You explain.

Luffy tilts his head. “Did you eat it? How else did it get there?”

You groan, having thought he had some basic knowledge of how babies were made. Before diving into an explanation, Nami drags Luffy aside, telling him off for being so rude to you and explaining that it meant you shouldn’t be put in danger or the baby could die.

Her bluntness makes you flinch, as you didn’t want to leave the crew, but considering your condition, it could be what would be the best for you.

Luffy just declares that everyone should make sure you were out of danger until Chopper say that you can fight again. He definitely doesn’t understand the length of a pregnancy or that there would be a baby to take care of later.

That doesn’t mean he isn’t curious though and when you shows signs of cravings and weird eating habits, he will eat the same as you, just so you feel better about wanting chocolate on your meat.

He’s in awe at your stomach getting bigger and bigger, but even more so, when the baby starts kicking you. You’ll get used to his hand lying on your stomach and him laughing with glee, when the baby kicks.

Luffy won’t be at your side when you give birth, but he’ll be waiting outside, feeling upset hearing you moan and scram in pain.

As soon as he’s allowed to, he enters the room and stares in awe at the small baby in your arms.

“Why don’t you come over and greet your new nakama, uncle Luffy?” You smile, tired after being in labor, but hay.

Luffy rushes to your side and pokes the baby’s nose gently, a big bright smile on his face. “Hey baby. I’m your uncle Luffy and I’m going to be the King of Pirates.”

You can’t help but laugh at the way he’s introducing himself. Luffy will always be Luffy after all.

#ace x fem reader #sabo x fem reader #luffy and fem reader #self insert x canon #self insert and canon #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece and reader #sfw #tw: pregnancy #tw: birth #tw: post birth #ace x yn #sabo x yn #luffy and yn #ohara library #didi answers

[toji-girl]

Just came across birth denial kink or something what do u think

as someone who has given birth, it is a no for me because I can't imagine denying that when it's already painful as hell but I can see the side of feeling relief afterward.

but to me giving birth to human life is a beautiful thing and it's so sacred, I can't make it sexual in any aspect, now pregnancy is way different because you're more sensitive and possibly aroused a lot more and you have all these hormones and cravings plus I think we all know what leads to pregnancy and pregnant sex is YES YES YES!

however, there seems to be a lot of posts of that on here!

#💌incoming #tw: birth #tw: pregnancy #I don't think I've ever even written a story where the reader actually goes to the hospital to give birth though #it's just when they are actually expecting #every pregnancy is different so that's why I said possibly aroused #again no kink shaming at all but it's not one of mine #because again I can't imagine denying something like that and just how painful it would be jkdbtr #I put a lot more than what I thought I was going too LMAOOO

[danjaley]

[The present]

Sarah: Help! Mr Brodie!

Jonathan: Burglars!?

Sarah: No. I’m dying. Or I'm having the baby. Or both.

Jonathan: No details please! I’ll go and get help!

#mccarric scenes season3 #mcc3 part4 #tw: birth

[bebemoon]

well can you imagine, i mean. dionysus’ mother, semele, having seen the face of zeus, collapses into a heap of ash around dionysus’ unborn body (he’s untouched for his half-divinity), and then his dad just. ..slaps him into his sinewy god-thigh to finish incubating him ... and, eventually, zeus “births” dionysus from his thigh. hence dionysus’ nickname “twice-born” because his mother carried him (and died horrifically before coming to term), and his father also carried him- and bore him. it’s such a strange myth- one i think about so much. like this one takes up a lot of space in my head for whatever reason

#personal #mythology #dionysus #semele #zeus #tw: death #tw: pregnancy #tw: birth #idk i'm thinking about him again #patron #queue