#Mother and child
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dinosaurwithablog · 2 days ago
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The only way to ride. Capybara surfing 101
Hitching a ride
(via)
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cinematic-phosphenes · 1 day ago
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Helaena Targaryen and baby Jaehaera ASOIAF as historical paintings (22/∞)
Sweet Dreams by James John Hill (1811–1882)
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nemfrog · 1 year ago
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Home health care. The real story book. 1927.
Internet Archive
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baelarys · 5 months ago
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Thérèse
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Aemond targaryen x Reader Niece velaryon
word count : 1180
Warning : angust, Insest , Suicide, death of a minor,Mention of blood and cheese ,Delicate and explicit topics
Author's note : I born to be the mother of a girl.
Thérèse pt2
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She was your everything, the reason for your joy, your greatest treasure. When Alysa was born, the happiness you felt was indescribable. She looked so much like you: her brown hair and dark eyes were a reflection of yours, and it filled you with an even deeper love.
Every day since her birth, you felt blessed. You watched each of her small gestures, her smile that lit up the room, and each babbling that made you laugh. Alysa had not only inherited your physical traits, but also your spirit, your energy, and your joy for life.
“Can you say mom?” you asked softly to the baby you held in your arms. “Mom,” you repeated in a warm, encouraging voice as you rocked Alysa back and forth.
Her big dark eyes looked at you curiously, her small mouth forming a soft smile. Each attempt of her to imitate you was another step in her development, and it filled you with indescribable pride.
“Come on, little girl, you can do it,” you whispered, bringing her face closer to yours so he could see you better. Alysa babbled something unintelligible, but to you, it was like music.
“Mommy,” you repeated once again, continuing to rock her. Alysa looked at you with those curious eyes, and even though she couldn't form the word yet, you knew she would soon.
The doors to your room suddenly opened, interrupting the moment of peace. You turned to see who it was, and found Aemond standing in the doorway. He looked visibly upset.
“My mother invited you to have lunch with her,” he said, approaching you with a firm step. "You did not go."
“I was taking care of Alysa,” you replied, without much interest, as you continued rocking the baby.
Aemond frowned, his gaze stern. “You know how important your presence at these events is to her. You can’t just ignore their invitations.”
“I'm not ignoring her,” you replied, staying calm. “My priority is Alysa. She needed my attention.”
Aemond took a deep breath, trying to control his frustration. He approached you and looked at the little girl in your arms. His expression softened as he saw his daughter, his eyes filling with tenderness.
Without saying a word, he stretched out his arms to support Alysa. Carefully, you moved her from your arms to him. Aemond cradled her gently, his fingers gently stroking her brown hair. Alysa looked at him curiously, her small fingers trying to grab a strand of her father's hair.
“Look who's here, Alysa,” Aemond said in a warm voice he rarely used, reserved only for his daughter. "Is Dad."
The little girl giggled, her little face lighting up with joy. Aemond smiled, his eyes softening further as he looked at his daughter. It was a side of him that very few saw, a vulnerability that only Alysa could bring out.
––––––––
The last few days had been crazy. Aegon's proclamation as king had shaken the foundations of the Seven Kingdoms. The news of Lucerys' death and the looming possibility of war kept everyone in a constant state of anxiety.
In the midst of the political storm, you tried to remain calm, taking refuge in the tranquility and peace that Alysa provided you.
Every morning when you woke up, you heard the whispers of the servants and the worried murmurs that spread through the hallways. The atmosphere in the Red Keep was tense, with furtive glances and hushed conversations dominating the day. Aemond, for his part, found himself increasingly involved in court intrigues, forced to take an active role in his brother's new administration.
Despite everything, your priority was still Alysa. In their small world, politics and wars had no place. Her days were filled with laughter, games and discoveries, and you tried hard to keep that oasis of happiness intact.
You spent hours with her, reading old stories, singing lullabies, and observing each of her small accomplishments with wonder and pride.
One afternoon, while Aemond was away at a council meeting, you took Alysa to the castle gardens. The sun was shining brightly, and the air was filled with the scent of summer flowers. Sitting on the grass, you allowed Alysa to crawl around as she pleased, her giggles filling the space around you.
“You're growing up so fast, my princess,” you whispered to her, watching her reach for a butterfly flying nearby. “I wish I could keep you this happy forever, away from all the chaos that surrounds us.”
Just then, you felt a presence behind you. You turned and saw Aemond approaching, his expression a mix of tiredness and concern. Seeing you and Alysa, his face softened a little. He joined you on the grass, setting aside the concerns of the kingdom for a moment.
“I needed this,” Aemond said, taking Alysa into his arms and laughing softly when she tugged at his hair. “A moment of peace in the midst of so much disorder.”
“I know,” you nodded, touching his arm affectionately. “Here, in the gardens, everything seems so distant. We can forget for a moment what is happening out there.”
Aemond nodded, looking at his daughter lovingly. “I would like to be able to offer you a better future, one without wars and conflicts. But these are difficult times.”
“We will,” you said. “We will find a way to protect her and give her a happy life.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon in the garden, enjoying the sun and the warm breeze. The garden became their refuge, a place where they could escape the worries of the outside world and simply be a family. Alysa laughed with every movement, her happiness was contagious and filled the air with pure and simple joy.
When night fell, you found yourself in Alysa's room, filled with toys scattered on the floor. The soft light of a couple of candles was the only thing that illuminated the gloom, creating dancing shadows on the walls. You watched Alysa sleep peacefully in her crib while you carefully folded some of her little dresses.
The silence was comforting, a pause in the tumult of the day. The candles flickered softly, casting a warm, welcoming light that made the room even more intimate. Alysa's every calm breath was a melody to your ears.
You hadn't sensed the presence of the two men who had entered the room until one of them collided with the small tower of blocks near the door. The sudden noise made you turn around quickly. At first, you thought it might be one of the wet nurses, but when you looked, you saw the faces of two men you didn't recognize.
"Who are you?" you asked, instinctively placing yourself in front of Alysa's crib. You tried to sound strong and authoritative, but your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.
The men exchanged a quick look. One of them, a tall man with a scar on his cheek. “Who is she?” He asked his companion.
“The one-eyed prince's wife,” one of the men murmured with a sneer on his face. You clung tighter to the crib behind you, feeling the urge to protect Alysa. Both men looked dirty, like rat catchers, but you knew they hadn't come just to catch rats.
“You can go,” you said firmly, noticing how the men approached you, murmuring something about Aemond under their breath. Fear hit you, but you forced yourself to maintain your composure. You decided to turn to take Alysa in your arms and escape, but at that same moment, you felt one of the men grab you by the hair, pulling you back, while a small cold knife was placed on your throat.
Terror washed over you, but you tried to stay calm. Alysa continued sleeping, oblivious to the danger. “Let me go,” you whispered, your voice shaking, your eyes locked with your captor's.
"Give us the child and we will not harm you," said the tallest, most robust man.
"No...no" you responded, trying to get away from the smaller man who was still holding you tightly.
You saw the robust man approach Alysa's crib and you felt as if your heart was going to explode "wait... I have jewelry, gold, I will give you anything, even double what they gave you for coming here" tears fell down your face. cheeks as he removed some gold rings from your fingers and extended them towards the men.
The tall man removed the thin veil that covered Alysa's crib, you suppressed a scream. Trying not to wake the baby who was still sleeping.
“guards…” you tried to scream but the man pressed the knife harder on your throat, you cried, you didn't know what else to do, you started to panic.
The tears began to fall faster when you saw how the man took your little Alysa by her arms and reached for her, causing small moans of pain from the baby.
"No!" You tried to get out of the man's grip on you but you couldn't, you felt the smaller man hit your head with the butt of the knife and threw you towards the wall which caused you to hit your head with it.
You heard Alysa crying, the sound of flesh being pierced accompanied by the sound of blood running on the floor, your stomach turned, you felt like everything was happening in slow motion, Alysa's crying stopped followed by the rough sound of a small body falling against the floor.
The man took the baby's head to put it in a small sack to leave the room followed by the smaller man.
You looked at the scene without knowing what to do until you saw the headless body of your daughter and a large pool of blood accompanying it, you crawled towards her.
“no…no…no” you repeated desperately, your throat hurt, your heart hurt and the tears came out without stopping, clouding your vision, you took the small body in your arms, bathing your fine dress in blood.
A heartbreaking scream came from your throat, your Alysa, your little and dear daughter, has been taken from you in such a cruel and inhuman way
The sound of the footsteps of some guards entering the room didn't even make you look away from the puddle that your baby's body was releasing.
“Y/N” Aemond called but you didn't turn around, you drowned in your own tears, wishing for nothing more than your own death you couldn't protect her, you were a shame. A small scream came from your throat, clinging more and more to the body you held in your arms.
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The night cold insinuated itself through the cracks of the window, cooling the already gloomy atmosphere of the room. A Week had passed since Alysa had left, leaving a palpable emptiness that expanded with each beat of your heart. The pain, far from diminishing with time, seemed to cling more tightly to your soul, as if the passing of the days did nothing but revive the memories of that fateful night.
In the oppressive silence of your room, the absence of words and human contact was a conscious choice. You had chosen withdrawal, seeking refuge in solitude to face the emotional whirlwind that enveloped you. Not even Aemond, your husband, had managed to penetrate the wall of your pain. Every time he tried to get closer, you retreated a little further, wrapped in a blanket of silence and memories.
One of the maids silently entered the room, carrying with her a tray of food that she knew beforehand you wouldn't touch. With a respectful but concerned gesture, she placed the tray on a small table next to the bed, discreetly removing the morning tray that was still intact.
"Dinner, your highness," she announced quietly, as if afraid to disturb the fragile balance of your silent contemplation. Her eyes reflected a mixture of understanding and regret at your persistent refusal to feed yourself properly.
Nodding barely perceptibly, you acknowledged the delivery with a gesture while you watched her leave with soft and discreet steps watched him leave with soft and discreet steps. Dinner remained in front of you.
Your gaze fell on the small knife next to the butter, an almost insignificant detail in the composition of the tray. You watched it for a long moment, feeling ideas swirl and fade in your tumultuous mind. Among them all, a single idea persisted, firm as a beacon in the midst of the emotional storm that enveloped you.
With trembling but determined hands, you took the knife and headed to your bed, delicately passing the sharp object across your wrist watching as blood began to flow.
You were surprised not to feel anything, you laid down carefully feeling how the liquid wet the sheet beneath you while your eyelids became heavy you didn't fight to stay awake the only thing you wanted now was just to rest.
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pro-royalty · 2 years ago
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Keke Palmer & Her Son, Leodis
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life-imitates-art-far-more · 7 months ago
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James Sant (1820-1916) "Portrait of his wife Elizabeth and daughter" (1852) Oil on canvas
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ibuprofenjuliet · 7 months ago
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“Forgive me mother”- the last words of Joffrey Velaryon
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philophilophilophilo · 6 months ago
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switching it up for yall today. got a nice (predominantly) flightless bird for ya
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missdeflai · 6 months ago
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Rhaenyra and baby Visenya 🤍
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the-night-picture-collector · 3 months ago
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/ Weegee (Arthur Fellig), Mother and Child in Harlem, 1939
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sarahsinferno · 4 months ago
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from the mother
to the fragile, dreaming child.
motherhood is the quiet incantation woven through the fabric of existence, a tapestry stitched with patience and boundless love. the mystic bond is an unspoken vow, a constellation of warmth that defies the cold distance between the finite and the infinite.
in every touch, every glance, a spell is cast, simple and profound, binding the ephemeral to the eternal, where love breathes, a quiet, miraculous force, enveloping all that is small and precious in its embrace.
this is the magic of creation, the alchemy of life, transformed in the quiet act of giving, a boundless journey from the first fluttering heartbeat to the uncharted horizons of tomorrow’s dreams.
S.T. 2019
madonna + child photographed by maria theresa meloni
photograph by lisa sorgini
young mother nursing her child by mary cassatt(1906)
mother and child by leon bazile perrault(1894)
seymour joseph guy(1824-1910)
stephen pan(1963)
goodnight 2 by arthur john elsley
mother and child taken by nell dorr (1940)
photographs of tasha tudor and her children
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michoodles · 4 months ago
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As I told you, I'm obsess so more doodles!
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Now I need to see the dynamic between these two silly felines, I can see wild taking immediately the control as a protecting mom with baby ancient bcs feline instincts you know?
Wild doesn't care if Ancient sees him as a mom or dad, he's happy with it, and he will keep protecting baby from his silly brothers ( He's avoiding some catnip accident to Ancient )
AU by @tashacee
Ancient sees him as his own gentle giant mom
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terranovathemust · 4 months ago
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I found these fanart on DeviantArt, made by Monopteryx. These images are wonderful, spectacular. Adjectives are not enough to describe its beauty. 😍🤩
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balkanparamo · 1 month ago
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Mother and Child: Vicente Manansala
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brownie-pics · 6 months ago
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お母さん、あのね・・
なあに?
・・ごにょごにょ❤
’24.6.11 浅茅ヶ原にて(※望遠レンズで撮影、トリミングしています)
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thunderstruck9 · 17 days ago
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Romare Bearden (American, 1911-1988), Untitled, c.1978. Mixed media and collage on board, 15 ½ x 9 in.
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