#Maternal AU

[hazard-c-horror]

Maternity Chip Eclipse Au

The Deal (pt.1)

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Haven’t posted about this au in a long while. And I was also gonna make this much sooner but I got lazy.

But I also have some exciting news. Me and @morriganfey are planning something big and special for this Au, and I’m pretty you all will love it <3

[canisalbus]

I know Machete was sent away when he was young, but did his parents actively hate him? His mother always looks so… angry with him at all times

No, I don't think they hated him. Actively hating your child is an extreme and uncommon emotion. And the sample size I've offered is also really tiny, I think I've only drawn Machete's mother twice this far. She doesn't look quite that peeved most of the time.

I'm more inclined to believe that they were just normal people being pushed into a corner by the immense stress and acute hardship in their lives. Machete's mother might not have been the most warm, peppy and affectionate person to begin with, but that wouldn't have prevented her from being a perfectly capable parent if the circumstances had been different. She did her best to take care of him, even if she was exhausted, frustrated, and tired of putting up a brave face. I suspect her husband wasn't as supportive and present as he could've been, childcare was something she had to deal with on her own.

[dee-writes-angst]

DICENTRAS (Chapter Five)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x pregnant!reader

SUMMARY Lucien shows up to the Autumn Court and secrets are soon revealed.

CONTENT WARNINGS angst, arguing, leaving, grief (over someone who is still alive), minor injuries, and Eris being angry.

AUTHORS NOTE annnnnd we are back into the swing of things! I would like to thank you all again for your patience these last few weeks, I am so incredibly grateful to all of you. Anyways, enough of the sappy, enjoy getting your hearts ripped out! :) -Dee

SERIES MASTERLIST

As the weeks passed after that fateful kiss, the atmosphere in the forest house transformed entirely. You had moved into Eris's room, and the space quickly became a haven of warmth and love. Each morning, you would wake in his arms, feeling the solid comfort of his embrace, the soft light filtering through the curtains casting a gentle glow over the room. The dawn would break with whispered conversations and soft laughter, the sound of your shared happiness filling the air like a sweet melody.

Eris had taken to placing his hand on your growing belly every morning, feeling the baby's movements with a look of awe and wonder in his eyes. The bond between the two of you deepened with each passing day, and the baby seemed to sense the harmony, responding with gentle kicks and rolls whenever Eris was near. The connection between the three of you was palpable, a testament to the love that had blossomed in the most unexpected of places.

You found yourself in a nesting frenzy, driven by an instinctive need to prepare for the baby's arrival. Eris's room, once a bachelor’s retreat with minimalistic decor, transformed under your careful touch. You spent hours arranging and rearranging furniture, making space for a crib beside the bed. The room was soon filled with soft blankets, tiny clothes, and stuffed animals, all ready to welcome the new addition to your family.

Eris supported your efforts wholeheartedly, often surprising you with thoughtful gestures. He would return from his duties with little gifts—a handcrafted mobile, a beautifully woven blanket, a carved wooden toy—each item chosen with care and love. Your evenings were spent together, organizing the baby's things and talking about the future, your shared dreams of the family you were about to become.

Despite the physical challenges of being 38 weeks pregnant, you found joy in the small moments. You would waddle around the room, humming lullabies as you folded and refolded baby clothes, your heart swelling with love every time the baby kicked in response to your voice. Eris would often catch you in these moments, his eyes softening with adoration as he watched you, a smile playing on his lips.

One particularly memorable evening, you decided to decorate the nursery corner you had set up. Eris had brought home a set of delicate, hand-painted stars to hang above the crib, and you both spent hours arranging them just right, laughing and teasing each other as you worked. By the time you finished, the room had a magical feel, the stars twinkling in the soft light, creating a peaceful haven for your baby.

Life was good, better than you had ever imagined it could be. The love between you and Eris grew stronger with each passing day, a bond forged in trust and mutual respect. The baby thrived within you, their movements a constant reminder of the new life you were about to welcome. The forest house, once a place of secrecy and fear, had become a home filled with love and hope.

But even in the midst of this happiness, a shadow lingered, a secret that weighed heavily on your heart.

Each morning began with the soft glow of dawn filtering through the windows of Eris's room, the warmth of his embrace a welcome start to the day. You would rise with the sun, your movements slow and deliberate as you navigated the space, your growing belly a constant reminder of the new life growing within you.

Breakfast was a leisurely affair, spent in the cozy kitchen of the forest house. The cook, a kindly woman with a penchant for indulging your cravings, would greet you with a warm smile as you entered, her apron stained with flour from her morning preparations. You would exchange pleasantries as you made your way to the table, the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked bread filling the air.

On this particular morning, however, you found yourself with an insatiable craving for something sweet. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you made your way to the kitchens, your footsteps light as you tiptoed down the hallways. The cook greeted you with a knowing smile as you entered, her eyes twinkling with amusement at your predictable craving.

"Good morning, dear," she said, her voice filled with warmth as she bustled about the kitchen, preparing the day's meals. "What can I do for you today?"

You grinned sheepishly, the anticipation of indulging in your favorite treat making your mouth water. "I was hoping you might have some of those honey cakes you made last week," you said, your voice hopeful as you eyed the display of pastries on the counter.

The cook chuckled softly, her laughter like music to your ears. "Ah, I see someone has a sweet tooth this morning," she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'm afraid we're all out of honey cakes, but I could whip up a batch of cinnamon rolls if you'd like?"

Your face lit up with delight at the suggestion, your stomach rumbling in anticipation. "That sounds perfect, thank you," you said, your voice filled with gratitude as you watched the cook set to work.

As you waited for your treat to bake, you found yourself lost in thought, the warmth of the kitchen and the tantalizing aroma of cinnamon filling you with a sense of contentment. But just as you were about to indulge in your freshly baked cinnamon roll, a voice broke through the tranquility of the moment, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" came a familiar voice from behind you, the sound sending a jolt of panic coursing through your veins. Turning slowly, you came face to face with Lucien, his amber eyes gleaming with amusement as he took in the scene before him.

You froze in place, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to find your voice. Lucien's presence was unexpected, his sudden appearance sending your carefully constructed facade crumbling to the ground. As he stepped closer, a smirk playing on his lips, you felt a surge of fear wash over you, the weight of your secret threatening to crush you under its weight.

Despite the initial shock of seeing Lucien standing before you, you forced a polite smile onto your lips, masking the turmoil that churned beneath the surface. His presence was unexpected, but you knew that you had to maintain your composure, at least until you could find a way to extricate yourself from the situation.

"Lucien," you greeted him, your voice carefully neutral as you returned his friendly smile. "What a surprise to see you here."

He returned your greeting with a warm smile of his own, his amber eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine amusement. "Likewise," he said, his tone light and friendly. "I must say, I didn't expect to find you sneaking into the kitchens for a midnight snack."

You chuckled nervously at his observation, the sound ringing hollow in your ears. "Oh, you know me," you replied, forcing a casual shrug. "I have a bit of a sweet tooth, and I couldn't resist the temptation of the cook's cinnamon rolls."

Lucien laughed softly at your explanation, the sound sending a pang of guilt through your chest. "I can't say I blame you," he said, his expression fond as he looked around the kitchen. "The cook here is quite talented."

As he chatted amiably with you, you found yourself falling into the easy rhythm of conversation, your nerves gradually easing as you exchanged pleasantries. He asked you about your journey to the Autumn Court, his curiosity genuine as he listened intently to your explanations.

You swallowed hard, the weight of your lies heavy on your conscience as you spun a tale of seeking adventure and new experiences, carefully omitting any mention of the true reason for your presence in the palace. You told him about your desire to explore the world beyond the borders of the Spring Court, your words carefully crafted to deflect suspicion and keep your secret hidden.

Throughout the conversation, Lucien treated you with the easy familiarity of an old friend, his warmth and charm putting you at ease despite the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. He seemed genuinely interested in your story, his questions probing but never invasive as he sought to understand the woman you had become since leaving the Spring Court.

But as you glanced down at the oversized shirt you had borrowed from Eris, the bulge of your growing belly hidden from view, you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at your conscience. You knew that you were lying to Lucien, betraying his trust with every false word that passed your lips. But in that moment, with his friendly smile and easy laughter, it was all too easy to push aside your doubts and bury yourself in the comforting embrace of deception.

"So, what brings you back to the Autumn Court, Lucien? Is everything going well with Elain?"

Lucien's expression faltered slightly at the mention of his mate, his gaze flickering with a hint of sadness before he composed himself with a small sigh. "I wish I could say that things were going smoothly," he admitted, his tone tinged with regret. "But truth be told, Elain and I are facing some… challenges."

He went on to explain the difficulties he was encountering in his relationship with Elain, describing her struggles to adjust to life in the Night Court and the walls she had erected to keep him at arm's length. His words were tinged with frustration and sadness, his love for Elain evident in every syllable as he spoke of his desire to break through her defenses and build a life together.

"But it's not just her walls that I'm contending with," he continued, his voice heavy with concern. "There's another complication, another male who has caught her eye." He spoke of the spymaster of the Night Court, a man whose charm and wit had seemingly captivated Elain, drawing her attention away from Lucien and their fledgling relationship.

As he spoke, you could sense the pain and uncertainty that weighed heavily on Lucien's heart, his struggles with Elain's affections a constant source of anguish. Despite his efforts to win her over, it seemed that she was slipping further away with each passing day, her attention diverted by the allure of another man.

You listened sympathetically to his words, your heart aching for the pain he was experiencing. You could see the depth of his love for Elain, the longing in his eyes as he spoke of her, and it struck a chord deep within you. In that moment, you felt a kinship with Lucien, a shared understanding of the complexities of love and the challenges it presented.

"I'm sorry to hear that things are so difficult with Elain," you said softly, your voice filled with genuine concern. "But know that you're not alone, Lucien. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you."

“I appreciate that,” Lucien smiled warmly, reaching over to steal a cinnamon roll from your plate before steering the conversation toward lighter subjects.

You found yourself drawn into the easy camaraderie between you and Lucien, the warmth of his presence a welcome distraction from the turmoil of your own thoughts.

But just as you began to relax into the conversation, a shadow fell over the kitchen doorway, and you turned to see Eris standing there, his expression dark and stormy. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, the tension in the air palpable as he took in the scene before him.

Lucien, ever the picture of charm and grace, greeted his brother with a casual smile, his tone light and teasing as he joked about your supposed dalliance on Calanmai. You felt the color drain from your face at his words, the implication of his jest hanging heavy in the air.

Eris's eyes narrowed at his brother's words, his jaw clenched with barely contained anger. He shot you a long, hard look, his gaze piercing through you like a knife, before turning his attention back to Lucien.

"What are you doing here, Lucien?" Eris asked, his voice cold and clipped as he crossed his arms over his chest. There was a steely edge to his tone, a warning that brooked no argument.

Lucien raised an eyebrow at his brother's question, his expression one of mild confusion. "Just catching up with an old friend," he replied casually, his gaze flickering briefly to you before returning to Eris. "And what about you? What brings you to the kitchens?"

Eris's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before he turned his attention back to Lucien. "I was looking for her," he said curtly, his voice tinged with a hint of annoyance. "We have matters to discuss."

With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving you standing there in stunned silence. You glanced at Lucien, a silent plea for understanding in your eyes, before rising to follow after Eris, your heart pounding in your chest.

But as you moved to leave, Lucien's voice stopped you in your tracks. "Wait," he said softly, his tone filled with genuine concern. "Is everything alright?"

You turned to face him, your gaze meeting his with a mixture of guilt and apprehension. And it was then, in that moment of quiet vulnerability, that Lucien's eyes fell upon the telltale swell of your belly, hidden beneath Eris's oversized shirt.

His expression softened, a look of dawning realization crossing his features as he took in the sight before him. "You're pregnant," he breathed, his voice filled with wonder and joy. "Congratulations."

You opened your mouth to speak, to correct his assumption and reveal the truth of your situation, but the words caught in your throat. In that moment, with the weight of his gaze upon you and the weight of your secret pressing down on your shoulders, you found yourself unable to speak. And so, with a heavy heart, you simply nodded, a silent confirmation of the lie that now hung between you.

As Eris stormed out of the kitchen, his footsteps echoing angrily down the corridor, you felt a surge of panic rising within you. Ignoring the discomfort of your heavily pregnant form, you hurried after him as quickly as you could, leaving Lucien to his own divices the oversized shirt you wore billowing around you as you waddled awkwardly down the hallway.

"Eris, wait!" you called out, your voice strained with desperation as you struggled to keep pace with him. "Please, let me explain!"

But he didn't slow down, his strides long and purposeful as he continued to march ahead, his shoulders tense with pent-up frustration. You quickened your pace, your heart pounding in your chest as you pushed yourself to catch up to him.

"Eris, please," you pleaded, reaching out to grasp his arm in a futile attempt to stop him. "You have to listen to me."

He jerked away from your touch, his expression hardened with anger as he rounded on you, his eyes blazing with fury. "I don't want to hear it," he snapped, his voice sharp and cutting. "I've heard enough lies for one day."

Tears welled in your eyes at his harsh words, the sting of his rejection piercing through you like a knife. But you refused to give up, refused to let him walk away without hearing the truth.

"I'm not lying to you, Eris," you insisted, your voice trembling with emotion. "Please, just give me a chance to explain."

For a moment, he wavered, his gaze flickering with uncertainty as he looked into your tear-filled eyes. But then, with a frustrated sigh, he turned away from you once more, his resolve hardening with each passing second.

"I can't do this right now," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "I need time to think."

But you couldn't let him leave, not like this. "Please, Eris," you implored, your voice breaking with the weight of your desperation. "I'm so sorry for hiding the truth about Lucien from you, but I was scared. I was scared of losing you, scared of what it would mean for us."

His expression twisted with anger and betrayal as he whirled around to face you. "Scared?" he spat, his voice rising with each word. "Scared of what? That I wouldn't accept you? That I wouldn't love you if I knew the truth?"

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you tried to make him understand. "No, it's not that," you sobbed, your voice choked with emotion. "I didn't want to burden you with my past. I didn't want to ruin what we have."

"What we have?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And what exactly do we have if it's built on lies?"

"Eris, please," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. "I love you. I love you so much, and I never wanted to hurt you."

For a moment, he stood there, his chest heaving with the force of his emotions. Then, with a voice trembling with barely contained rage, he asked the question that had haunted him since the day you first met.

"Who is the baby's father?" he demanded, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable. "Tell me the truth, now."

You felt the walls closing in around you, the weight of the truth pressing down on you like a vice. With a shuddering breath, you finally gave in, the words tumbling from your lips in a torrent of pain and regret.

"It's Lucien," you sobbed, your voice breaking as you spoke the name. "Lucien is the father."

Eris's face contorted with a mixture of shock and fury, his eyes blazing with a fire you had never seen before. "Lucien?" he repeated, his voice trembling with the force of his anger. "You mean to tell me that my brother is the father of your child?"

"I'm so sorry," you cried, your heart breaking as you saw the pain in his eyes. "I never wanted to hurt you, Eris. Please, you have to believe me. I love you, and I need you. We need you."

He shook his head, his face a mask of anguish as he took a step back, as if trying to distance himself from the reality of your words. "I don't know if I can do this," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I don't know if I can be with you, knowing that your child belongs to Lucien."

"No," you pleaded, reaching out to him with trembling hands. "Please, don't leave me. Don't leave us. I love you, Eris. More than anything in this world."

For a moment, he stood there, torn between the love he felt for you and the betrayal that now threatened to tear you apart. Then, with a voice heavy with resignation, he spoke the words that you had feared most.

"I need time," he said, his voice raw with emotion. "I need time to figure out what this means for us."

As Eris walked away, each step echoing like a death knell, you felt a profound sense of loss and despair wash over you. Your legs gave out, and you collapsed to the floor, the hard stone pressing painfully into your knees. Sobs of agony tore from your throat, each one more heart-wrenching than the last, the sound reverberating through the empty corridor. Your cries were raw, primal, a manifestation of the unbearable pain and heartache consuming you.

"Eris," you choked out between sobs, the name a desperate plea that went unanswered. The world around you blurred as tears streamed down your face, the reality of his departure sinking in like a lead weight in your chest. You felt utterly alone, the emptiness around you a stark contrast to the love and warmth you had shared with him.

Lost in your grief, you didn't hear the footsteps approaching until it was too late. A warm hand touched your shoulder gently, and you looked up through tear-filled eyes to see Lucien kneeling beside you, his expression one of deep concern.

"What happened?" he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine worry. "Are you hurt?"

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, replaced by another wave of sobs. Lucien's eyes flickered with understanding and sympathy as he helped you to your feet, his grip strong and reassuring.

"Come on," he said gently, guiding you with a firm but gentle hand. "Let's get you to the medical wing. We need to make sure you and the baby are okay."

You nodded weakly, allowing him to lead you down the corridor. Your mind was a whirlwind of pain and confusion, each step feeling like an eternity. The journey to the medical wing passed in a blur, the world around you a hazy amalgamation of sounds and shapes.

The healers quickly took you in, their hands skilled and efficient as they checked your knees and examined the baby. Through it all, Lucien stayed by your side, his presence a small comfort in the midst of your turmoil. His eyes were filled with concern, his hand never leaving yours as the healers worked.

"She's okay," one of the healers finally said, her voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. "Just a bit of bruising on the knees. The baby is perfectly healthy."

Relief washed over you, though it was quickly overshadowed by the gnawing pain in your heart. Lucien helped you back to your feet, his touch gentle as he guided you out of the medical wing.

"Let's get you back to your rooms," he said softly, his voice filled with compassion. "You need to rest."

You hesitated, the thought of returning to the room you had left weeks ago filling you with dread. "No," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Eris's room. Across from mine."

Lucien nodded, understanding in his eyes as he led you to Eris's chambers. As you approached the door, a sense of foreboding washed over you. With a trembling hand, you pushed the door open, your heart sinking at the sight that greeted you.

The room was empty. Eris's belongings were gone, the space devoid of any trace of him. It was as if he had never been there at all. You felt a fresh wave of despair crash over you, the reality of his departure hitting you like a physical blow.

"No," you whispered, your voice breaking. "He can't be gone."

Lucien's expression turned grim as he looked around the room, understanding dawning in his eyes. "I'm so sorry," he said softly, his hand squeezing yours in a gesture of support. "I'm so, so sorry."

You sank to your knees once more, the weight of your grief too much to bear. Lucien knelt beside you, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. "We'll get through this," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your shattered heart. "You’re not alone. We'll get through this together."

But even as his words offered a small measure of comfort, you couldn't shake the feeling of profound loss. Eris was gone, and the world felt a little colder, a little darker, without him by your side.

TAGLIST

@purple-writer8 @defnotlucienvanserra @cherry-cin @julesofvolterra @mirandasidefics @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @littlestw01f @skylarkalchemist @babypeapoddd @daardyrnitta @talesofadragon @thecraziestcrayon @asaucecoveredsomething @starryhiraeth @darling006

[smolbonbon]

"Give. him. back."

Maternity Chip Au by @hazard-c-horror I saw this Au awhile ago and I love how you designed him he looks so creepy and cool.

Despite his looks, he just wants to protect his son brother. <3

[theallianceofcelestials]

Since you’ve read the newest thing, and since I’m in the mindset. How would the SEA!fam react to Maternity chip Eclipse.

Mc!Eclipse seeing Bloodmoon (specifically the Reed voiced one) and Solar Flare and being happy that his babies are at least alive in this dimension

Wanting to take care of them, but they’re from different dimensions. Does that matter to him? Not really.

I’m more interested in their reactions to Mc!Eclipse’s, non consensual modification, and if they would try to pin him down to remove it

If MC Eclipse tried parenting any of the SCPs they would be weirded out. They don't know how to deal with it. Like hello other dimensional Eclipse, it's good to meet you, could you please let go of Solar Flare? Thanks

As to how it all happened, Killcode has no idea who this Foxy and Montgomery Gator are, but he doesn't like them. He's going to hunt them down if the chance arises.

SEA Eclipse may ask him if he wants him to check the back of his head out, just so they can be sure there's no serious damage there, however he really wouldn't want to force the guy to do anything. He's already basically forced to act in a manner that's unusual for him, and having someone poke at you despite your wishes is incredibly invasive and violating, which he knows from personal experience.

Moon would also probably like to take a look, but when MC Eclipse reacts negatively, seeing as he doesn't like Moon still, he'd back off. He recognises animal behaviour when he sees it.

Solar Flare might be the one who'd actually end up looking at the back of MC Eclipse's head, like Lunar did in that one comic, simply because it's the one who understands the most about animatronic builds. And then it'd relay the information, and all of them would come to the conclusion that it's stuck and they need to hunt this Montgomery and Foxy down like animals.

So yeah, hopefully those two can run really fast, because neither Killcode nor Bloodmoon are amused, and they're feeling particuarly bitey.

SEA Lunar would enjoy the uppies tho. Having an Eclipse hug him with four arms? Great! Fantastic! He's curling up in that lap so hard it's unreal. If MC Lunar's there he's fighting for that spot. He can have the shoulders or something.

Sun would probably try approaching MC Eclipse to ask if he's fine with this, if he needs help with anything because he's happy to help. As is the rest of the family, but Sun noticed the discomfort towards Killcode, Moon, Eclipse (though I do wonder if upon hearing that SEA Eclipse is the brother of SEA Lunar, Bloodmoon and Solar Flare if MC Eclipse's code would also insist that's a kid or not, though I doubt) and himself. He'd still offer what he can, and back off when requested.

So yeah, they're pretty damn unhappy about his situation, and they all have stern words for some people. Or in some cases, violent intentions for some people

[mothiir]

the war hawk

because i need to write some more jagahatai. no cw for this one!

”Stand,” says the Great Khan from his throne, lounging like a true conqueror, safe in the knowledge of his victory. His gur is gigantic, larger than the cathedrals of your city home, and permits a great gathering of people — some his strange white-armoured sons, but mostly humans. They array in a circle around you, with no clear demarcation of rank, and none of the finery that the noble families of your home would display in such a gathering. You get the sense that they are all of one kin, a bond forged in the crucible of war. Perhaps if your own family had set aside its internecine struggles —

No. You cannot think like that. They didn’t. They lost. That is all there is.

You stand with the help of one of your attendants, schooling your face into careful, decorous blankness. You will not dishonour your family by weeping. Women of your family have married for politics for generations — yes, it has been centuries since any of your foremothers were offered up to a warlord in exchange for peace, but it is not your place to bemoan your fate. No: you must be thankful. You must wring gratitude from this misery, because no man found under the stars — or among them — will be charmed by a dour, shivering wretch.

“Yes, my Lord Khan,” you say. “Forgive me — I do not speak your tongue —“

“That is no matter,” he says. “I speak the language of this system well enough.”

Your maid gives you a swift, curious look, which you deliberately ignore — though you share her thoughts. The stories you both heard spoke of barbarian sheep-herders that tore books apart in anger because they could not read them.

“You honour our meagre home with your presence, my Lord,” you say, swooping into another curtsy. The clothing you wear is gorgeous, but highly impractical: a chain mail dress, ornamented with gemstones; a headdress anchored in place with hairpins that bite at your scalp. You wear the tribute, and you are the tribute. Gold, sapphires, precious metals, precious fuels — and livestock. The finest horses, cattle, sheep and poultry that your homeland has.

And you, of course. You who feel that you have more in common with the broodmares and fattened lambs in your entourage than with the crown on your head.

The Great Khan acknowledges your flattery only with the slight incline of his head. His throne is draped in so many furs you cannot see the original shape of it. It looks comfortable. To his left sits three of his sons, clad in their armour, but helmetless. To his right is an elderly man, a hood pulled over his head, so his face is shadowed. An advisor, maybe?

“Your father did not say this when he first met our envoys. We interpreted his broadcast. Sheepfuckers and misfits, he called us,” he says, idly, and your stomach drops into your feet. Instinctively, you pull your handmaids closer to you, grasping their chilly hands with yours.

“My father —“

“And in this letter he sent you with,” the Khan says, unfolding the parchment. It seems tiny in his gigantic hands. “He says that he is but — ‘a worm in the garden of my resplendence’ — he has quite the way with words, does he not? And such a change of heart! A modest man, to say he is but a worm in the garden of a sheepfucker.”

A few of his sons chortle; someone jeers. Your cheeks flame, and you lick your lips before replying.

“My father’s words were misspoken and arrogant.”

“Indeed. And he has learned the error of his ways. As long as he pays his tithes, he and his people will be treated as valued members of the Imperium — and under the protection of the Emperor of Mankind.”

The Great Khan turns back to the parchment, and makes a show of reading further.

“He has some words for you too.”

You swallow thickly. Your mother had been all careful posed dignity when she sent you away; your father had embraced you and wept. His first child; his first girl. His eldest. Sacrificing so much for the sake of her people —

“‘—though she is no great beauty, and is altogether too clever, she is swift to learn, and her mother bore eight children, four of whom were boys, so it is likely that she will likewise be fertile,’” the Khan reads, and something inside you freezes. There are no chuckles now — even if there had been, you would not have heard them over the strange high ringing in your ears. Your fingernails dig into the back of your handmaid’s hand, leaving bloody red crescents; she does not seem to notice; or if she does notice, she does not care. “And if she is not to your liking then rest assured she has sisters, who are fairer and younger and —“

“Don’t you dare!” you shout, without thinking, without considering and — oh by the gods what have you done? And then you remember that these strange men from the stars burn churches and despise worship, and so calling on the gods just makes things worse — and you freeze, heart rabbiting, eyes wide. “I mean, my lord, please — the next-oldest of my sisters is sixteen summers —“

You were born to be a politician — bred to be one — and yet all of your training has been for nothing, for in that moment you are not a diplomat but a sister, white-hot fury pulsing behind your eyes. If you had talons, you’d rip your fathers face from his skull; if you had wings, you’d pull your sisters and handmaids under their span, tuck them safe and secure and hidden. But you have neither: only a clumsy tongue, and rage that stoppers your throat, and grief great enough to drown in. And all the while the Khan watches you, impassive as a hawk; a great predator, with no concern for the mewling of women —

“Jaghatai,” says the cloaked figure to his right, pulling her hood back. “You’re scaring the girl.”

What you had assumed to be a withered old man is in fact a withered old woman, with nut-brown skin, heavy black hair, and bright eyes glittering in folds of corrugated flesh.

“I am — ah,” says the Great Khan, and then his face relaxes minutely. He smiles — though the gesture does nothing to calm you, directed as it is at the woman. “Apologies.”

“Don’t apologise to me, Khan — apologise to your poor bride! Soldiers! Really!”

She stretches like a cat, her joints clicking, and stands. Three of the astartes hasten to help her down the dais, but she waves them away.

“I can manage just fine on my own, boys,” she says, and hobbles her way down to you. She’s barely up to your shoulder, hunched over with age; her clothes are of fine quality, but thoroughly worn. “Honestly.”

“My lady Hoelun — “ one of the men says, but she points her stick at him.

“Tsubodai, I knew you when you were stumbling around after your father’s goats — when I need your help, I shall ask for it. All of you! Useless!”

Instinctively, you curtesy to her. She chuckles, and catches your chin with one gnarled hand.

“Let’s have a look. All your own teeth, no mutations,” she says, tipping your face this way and that. “Clever, that letter said, and I’ll believe that — every woman we’ve met in this system can read and write, which is a blessing, believe me. Half of my grandsons are still learning. They like their bikes and their ponies, what do they need letters for?”

She pinches your cheek.

“Smart, because you knew how to greet the Great Khan. And reckless brave, because you shouted at him. And —“ She looks down at your hands, which still clutch at your whimpering maids. Her gummy smile widens. “And decent too.”

She turns back to the Great Khan.

“You’ll marry this one, Jaghatai. I’ll make the arrangements for the ceremony in two moons time. Until then, we’ll follow tradition.”

The Great Khan does not seem at all surprised at the display. His smile has deepened, and for the first time he looks more like a man than a hunting bird.

“Very well, Mother,” he says. “If you approve — my lady, you will be granted your own household, and a gur large enough to hold them. You may bring women to attend you from your home planet if you wish — or if you prefer, I can name some from within my own family. A hundred head of horse are yours as of today; for each week until our wedding another hundred shall be added to your herd. You will learn our language and our customs, and you will sit in on my council with my mother —“

“My lord — I am no warrior,” you say, and he holds up a hand to silence you.

“No. But I am no politician. An empire can be conquered from the saddle of a horse, but not ruled from one. You will attend council with my mother and learn from her, so that when we are wed you may pick up the governance of this sector in my absence.”

“But — my father is the governor,” you say, brow furrowed, still feeling like you are stumbling to catch up. Hoelun chuckles.

“For now. But who trusts a man who puffs up his chest only to crawl in the dirt with nary an arrow fired?”

The implication of her words should horrify you. You think of your sisters, and you feel only a hesitant, fragile kindling of hope. Hoelun gives your cheek another affectionate — if slightly painful — squeeze.

“Welcome home,” she says.

[confused-wanderer]

thoughts about Bruce nearly adopting the prince of hell itself- Nico di Angelo? bcause there is no register of Nico having a family, he's an orphan for the mortals. And Bruce is always into adopting orphans with a dark past (cmon Nico has a really dark n complicated past)

I love the way you think.

Nico di Angelo already has the brooding, dark and concerningly pale part of being Gotham’s cryptic down. It isn’t his fault that when he accidentally shadow travels while in the underworld and ends up in Gotham, every villain and goddamn person in Gotham has already pegged him as the latest addition to the bat family. It had taken Nico way longer than he’d like to admit to realize he wasn’t in the underworld anymore. In Nico’s defence, when you had dark streets filled with a heaviness in the air, accompanied by darkness and screams everywhere it’s hard to realize you’ve actually ended up on Earth.

The first time Bruce bumps into him is when he sees this kid take down forty assassins in one fell swoop. The kid fights with a sword, but Bruce notes that he relies more on his powers. When the fight is over, Bruce feels the weight of Nico’s gaze on him. He feels the souls of the damned judging him, but the only thing he can focus on is that this kid is scrawny. Concerningly pale, and eye bags so deep they gave Tim a run for his money. And all the pieces clicked: why all the people were suddenly chastising him for not feeding his kid enough, why the villains were crying foul play over him playing favourites when it came to allowing metas in his city, Bruce keeps his eyes peeled, tries to track down the kid because forget seeing him as a threat to Gotham, this kid was a threat to himself with the way he was operating. The next time he meets Nico, he comes prepared with weeks of research that led him to the perfect peace offering: A McDonalds Happy Meal.

Nico’s fight or flight instincts were failing him when Bruce approached, because he had no idea what to do when an intimidating creature appears out of the shadows, walks towards him and basically shoves a meal in his face and asks him where his parents are. But slowly he starts trailing Bruce, asks the ghosts about him and pieces together that he was a mortal famous for brooding and hiding in the shadows..Nico had competition for his title.

Bruce lends him a room in the manor one night after Nico almost passes out, and is slightly scared of how aggressive the man’s kind gestures are. From the way Alfred gives him the side eye when he thinks he’s successful in skipping meals, or the superhuman strength with which Bruce absentmindedly judo-flipped a monster into another dimension when it tried to attack Nico while he was half-asleep. One day after a long nap, Nico hears a lot of animated noises, peeks around the corner and that’s how he sees the rest of the batfam. The next few days even though he tries to avoid him they all somehow find him, curious to see the latest arrival. Jason is informing him of his rights when he becomes a legal ward and all the blackmail and guilt-tripping he is entitled to, while Dick and Barbara try and make him feel comfortable and welcome without preying too much. Something about them keeps nagging Nico, because they seemed so damn familiar he found himself wanting to believe he was safe with them. It’s only after the two have a debate and share an exasperated look that it clicks. Their antics remind him of Percy and Annabeth.

It takes a little getting used to though. The first time Nico and Tim met, everyone else swore they were seeing double. Two anemic kids with more trauma than blood in their body, complete with the eye bags and the pale complexion. The only thing Nico was missing, was a missing spleen. The batfam still mixed up their names from time to time, but Nico wouldn’t admit that he liked it, and sometimes would add fuel to the fire. He liked being the only one who could scare Bruce every single time by beating the man at his own games and appearing out of the shadows. Bruce does still occasionally ask about his parents- half out of curiosity and the other concern and at one point Nico knows enough about their world to know they won’t bat an eye at the truth, so he tells them. His reaction was certainly tame, but the bat kids went crazy when they realised they could have a dance-off with the skeletons.

When Nico finally feels well enough to shadow travel back, that’s when Bruce pops the question. He’s nervous, Nico can tell and that makes him nervous. The same way his dad would feel nervous asking him if he wanted to hang out, or have a movie night. It’s strange, Nico thinks to himself, how two powerful beings that can intimidate the world without saying a word, could turn so scared when facing their own children. Their conversation goes a little something like this:

Bruce: listen.. I know you have a dad. I know you’re not an orphan.. technically. But it’ll be a lot easier and we’ll have less obstacles in our civilian identities for me to help you however or whenever you want. I want you to know.. you have a home here. If you ever need to rest, shelter or help, I want you to know you always have a place to crash. The manor is your home, and I just want you to know that. If you say this name in this universe and ask for me, no matter where you are, I will find you. And I will come to help. And I’m not the only one who will if you have that name.

Nico *struggling to blink back tears*: I-

Bruce *panicking*: Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry it’s completely fine if you don’t want to. Sorry I wasn’t trying to guilt trip you chum I just wanted you to know I-we all care about you and that you’re not alone.

Nico *sniffling*: Thank you..

Skeleton hand *popping out of the ground, hopping over to Bruce and extending out a letter*

Letter: YES.

Bruce: .. what the-

Nico *turning red*: DAD!!

Letter: Love you :) -Dad.

Nico: it’s fine you don’t have to do what he says Br-

Bruce *slams down adoption papers*

[bluesiren111]

This just reminded me of this au

@hazard-c-horror

I’m sure this had been done but whatever :3

Gave up half way through Drawing Monty ;-; srry

[m0e-ru]

evil baby

[mrkida-art]

He is a dwarf with many daughters. He rejoices over this every day

[hazard-c-horror]

So I was zoned out while listening to yesterday’s MaFs episode, and I heard “put maternity chip in sun” I did a double take. And then I thought. O what if we put a maternity chip into Eclipse? And…

Honestly I think I just wanted to draw some motherly Eclipse

[sorrowfulrosebud]

B- bu- bud... idk if requests are open but....

B- be- bear bakugou who loves climbing trees but hates the winter cold on his paws. So he starts climbing things in the house😔. Just you scolding him while he's sitting snug on top the bookshelf because he left claw marks and splintered the wood...

BAHAHAHA MUG I LOVE THIS

“Katsuki.”

“Fuck off.”

“Katsuki!”

“Fuck off!”

“Get down from there now!” You scolded your hybrid as he glowered at you from the top of the bookshelf.

“Fucking make me, human!” He sneered, claws digging deeper into the wood, splintering the precious heirloom.

“Katsuki please, you’re damaging the bookshelf!” You pleaded. Katsuki huffed whilst continuing to glower.

“No. I like it up here. Now piss off!” He demanded, leaning forward to get his point across. The bookshelf was beginning to tip slightly, causing you to worry.

“What happened to your other climbing equipment?! Why does my poor bookcase have to suffer?!” You whined, cringing at the groaning of the bookcase. Huffing, you look at your companion.

“Okay. What would it take for you to come down?” You tried from a different perspective. Katsuki stared at you.

“Salmon bowl. But, I eat it up here. Then I’ll come down,” he said, positioning himself to get comfortable.

“Oh god fucking damnit Suki, fine! I’ll make your damned fucking bowl of salmon and fucking rice,” you grumble under your breath, muttering about how you hate winter as much as he does. Katsuki triumphantly smirks before falling asleep to the sounds of you grunting in the kitchen.

“Oi, wake up you stinky brat,” you grumble, pinging the chopsticks against the bowl as Katsuki’s eyes cracked open. His mouth delved into an O shape as he yawned, pointy toofs on show.

He reminded you of a kitten; so sleepy in the winter and hibernating anywhere he can. He could barely keep his eyes open during winter, so you were surprised that he managed to even climb up the damn bookcase.

“Mmmm, don’ wanna wake uuuuuuup,” he sleepily mumbled, getting comfy again.

“Oh no you little bastard, I made you the bowl so you would get off my bookcase. You promised, so get your lazy ass up and eat,” you scolded firmly, ready to throw the bowl at him when he sticks his middle finger up. You huff before smirking; time to bring out the big guns.

“Fine then. No more kisses for a week,” you said, going to leave. Katsuki’s head snapped to you.

“What?” He asked, sleepiness depleting.

“Yup, and no ear rubs whilst you’re napping too,” you list off, about to leave the living room when you hear conflicted angry grunts.

“Ugghghh fine, shitty mate. But, I get to lay on your lap and you have to feed me. Deal?” He answered cheekily, sleepy smirk slapped on his face.

You sigh.

“Deal.”

“Was this really so hard, sweetie?” You murmur to him softly, petting your sleepy bear boy after he demolished his bowl of salmon and rice. Katsuki cracked an eye open.

“Mhm, totally. Natural instincts an’ shit, plus I like being up in high places. Is too cold to do it outside,” he mutters, head nestling into your tummy. Your fingers trail softly over his cute little brown ears, giggling when you see his pompom tail wiggle.

“Stop moving, human. Your laughing is disrupting my sleep,” he mumbles, nosing your tummy as you wrap a blanket around him.

“Sorry, my love. Well we can look into constructing something a bit more practical for you to climb until it’s not as cold outside. I think the attic might be a cool place for some more climbing gear, plus the alcoves could be padded out for your naps,” you ramble quietly, gentle tracing of his ears never ceasing until you hear the quiet rumbly snores of your mate.

You stop talking, wrapped the blanket higher around his neck and kissed the space between his fluffy ears.

“Goodnight, my bratty cub.”

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I saw @qourmet's young madam lan art, and knew what I had to do.

[baylardian-1]

Chakotay moved swiftly past him, stopping just short of Janeway and taking her hands in his. She offered him a tight smile and nod, which he returned before guiding her gently back to stand beside him and Mattings.

Wanted to draw the reunion they have in Atonement when Chakotay saves Kathryn from her trial in front of the Kinara. :)

Little collaby with @maliciousalice. She fixed my original drawing and then I colored.

[cacw]

have you ever wondered how it feels to be a little bit blonde a little bit famous and very much dead. well look no further

[alextwdgf01]

I don't believe this is a Maternity Falls sketch I ever shared (let me know if I did though)

Ford's okay, he's just having Braxton Hicks for the first time and they're a bit uncomfortable for him. And Stan doesn't know what's going on.

#please do not tag as Stanc//t