#male fertility tea

[holicare]

Boost your chances of conception with Holiocare's male fertility.

Support your fertility journey naturally with Holiocare's male fertility tea, enriched with herbal goodness for male health. Take a step towards holistic wellness with Holiocare's male fertility tea, promoting balance and vitality from Holiocare a gentle effective solution for male health

[dumbbitch-academy]

Use Me

Astarion x f!reader/tav

WC:3k+

Smut! 18+ MDNI

Summary: Reader is basically ovulating and is super horny because of this, so Astarion decides to help her out after finding her frustrated.

Contains: p-in-v sex, dirty talk, masturbation (female and male), mutual masturbation, oral (male receiving), face fucking (male receiving), reader gets embarrassed easily (there are some shame moments but nothing major), reader and Astarion are so horny for each other omg

A/N: Hello Everyone! Here is the full fic! Just keep in mind this is my first time writing smut! As always feedback is always welcomed! I did not expect this fic to become so long as it did but I am pleased with how it turned out!

Masterlist (it is short but it soon shall grow)

AO3 for those who prefer!

It had been so annoying all day. No matter how much you tried to will it away, the need and want for carnal release would not stop bothering you. It consumed you, and you hated that. The only thing you could think about was him, taking you in every which way that you could think of. You imagined his strong chest against your back, his smell overtaking your senses. The way his hands felt on your breasts, how his kisses to your throat set your neck aflame. His groans as he made his way to enter you, eyes closed with his brows scrunching up in the middle. You wanted all of this. But there was one problem with this solution. He was out on a mission and you did not want to burden him with your needs of release. 

You tried to think of why you could be so desperate, until you remembered, you were supposed to become fertile soon. You guess soon had finally arrived, much to your annoyance. The best you could do was to retreat to your tent and try to tend to this problem by yourself. Surely you would be able to take care of this, and then this whole irritating problem will go away. 

“I am going to my tent, I am not feeling too well, best not to bother me for a bit!”, you called out towards Gale and Shadowheart. Shadowheart nodded in acknowledgement, whereas Gale called out to you “Would you like help? I have a few wonderful teas that I keep for emergencies, such as headaches, sore muscles, or even a belly ache.” Gods, why did he have to be so helpful at the worst of times? You shook your head, “Oh thank you Gale, but I just feel overly tired. I would like to have some quiet time to nap.” You could see his mouth start to form a word as you quickly slipped into your tent, which was luckily a good bit farther from the rest of the group, “Okay, thank you, bye-” as you made your fast exit. 

Once you secured the tent flap, you took a deep inhale and raised your hands to cover your face. Astarion. You could feel the need start to build higher, if it was even possible. Astarion. You quickly went to pull your pants down, as well as your underclothes. They had already been wet from imagining Astarion taking you in whatever way he wanted to use you. Use me, Astarion. You went to pull your tunic above your head, your breath catching as you felt the fabric drag slightly across your nipples. Fuck, you didn’t know if you had ever been this horny before. You laid back onto your bed roll and started to twist your nipples in your fingers. You traced your hand down and slowly began to play with your sensitive bundle of nerves. You could feel the wetness that coated your soft dark curls there, the wetness providing excellent glide for your fingers to play with yourself, all while you imagined him. You imagined it was his hand, or tried to anyways, it always felt much better when he was the one playing with you there. You wished that you could smell him, to be able to feel enveloped. Fuck, why did he have to go on that stupid mission again? It was at this point you remembered that he had left his white shirt in your tent that morning before they set out. Using your clean hand, you palmed around for it until you felt the familiar fabric. You brought it to your nose and deeply inhaled. Gods, it was almost intoxicating. You huffed out a breath as you inserted a finger into your aching hole, fuck you needed something inside you. You thought about his cock, the thickness, stretching you with a delicious sting. You added another finger to try to achieve the same feeling, your breath hitching. You began to pump your fingers in and out, still thinking of the real thing. However, no matter how long you kept this up, you never were able to get anywhere near where you needed to be to finally cum, much to your frustration. 

It was not until a good amount of time had passed that you heard footsteps walking up to the tent. “Darling, I am back. Shadowheart mentioned you are not feeling well, do you need help?”Astarion called from outside the tent flap. Yes, more than ever. “Oh, uhh, hi Astarion, no I am okay, thank you though, my love!” Your voice failed to sound as nonchalant as you had hoped it to. Astarion was not buying it and began to open the tent flap slowly, “Love, you really sound distressed, I am going to come in okay? I want to make sure you are o-” He quickly rushed in and tied the flap secured when he saw what kind of state you were in. Cheeks red, his shirt in your hand, your chest heaving, legs spread with your hand still inserted into you. You all of a sudden burned hot, cheeks glowing even more, but this time from embarrassment. You quickly in one motion threw his shirt to the side, grabbed the blanket from your side, and wrapped yourself in a cocoon of shame. 

Why you felt such shame, you were not totally sure as to why. You were in a committed relationship, and had slept with each other quite a few times. But never had he ever walked in on you pleasuring yourself. The feeling of shame was met with easy red eyes from Astarion and a giggle, “Not feeling good you say? Surely an orgasm can take away any headache, do not let me stop you, my love.” 

“I do not have a headache, please Astarion, I am…” He could sense your humiliation and slowly went to sit down beside you with his legs crossed. “Darling, there is no need to be ashamed, we haven’t in a while and you have needs. Don’t let me stop you. Please continue to fuck yourself while you…” he glanced over to his tossed shirt “smell my shirt. You always surprise me, my sweet girl.” By now you accepted the situation, “Astarion, I have been horny all day, I cannot seem to take care of it. I think I am just going to go jump in a cold lake. Or just ignore it because I don’t want you to feel obligated to hel-”, you were cut off by a quick kiss to the forehead between your brows. “Darling, I would love to help you. Let me, please. I have been wanting to take you for the last few days actually… thinking of every single curve, freckle, giggle,” Astarion slowly coaxed you out of the blanket that had been your fortress against your own embarrassment for the last several minutes. “You… you do not have to do this if you don’t want to, Astarion. I can take care of this myself, really. You won’t hurt my feelings if you leave,” you looked up at him and shifted your body to sit with your legs crossed mirroring him. “Tav, please, let me take you,” a dangerous glimmer in Astarion’s eyes while he nodded, giving you permission. You nodded in return and moved to your knees as you leaned your neck down to meet your lover’s lips with a small tentative kiss at first, which began to deepen. He rose up to his knees, his armor abrasive against your soft skin. He pulled away when he noticed you pull back slightly, scratchy armor was not your favorite feeling in the world against your bare chest. Astarion remedied this by immediately taking off his top garments to have only his leather trousers and bare chest against you. You hummed in thanks and took his lips in another kiss, more heated than before. You could feel his hands wander up your back, tracing along your spine in opposite directions. He ended up with one hand gently holding the back of your head while the other firmly rested on your round ass. The desire which had been snuffed out momentarily stoked once again. You reached behind him and pulled him in closer, moving your mouth to trace kisses along his jaw, stopping at his ear lobe. His unneeded breath caught and a small moan escaped his lips. He pulled back to look into your eyes, his had begun to be half-lidded. “I thought I was helping you take care of your little issue, my love”, he sensually whispered as he went to kiss your neck, which he began to suck on the sensitive skin there. The hand he had on your ass began to knead the cheek, eliciting a groan from you. You needed more. You pushed away from him suddenly and went to lie down on the bed roll once again and nodded up at him. He nodded back at you and followed you, straddling one of your legs, making sure that they were opened for him. Bracing himself up with one arm above your head, he began to feel your breast, heavy, warm, and so ready to be played with. He moved his fingers to twist and play with your nipple as he began to rub your engorged sex with his thigh, causing you to breathe out his name. He moved his mouth to suck and lick your other nipple, humming in pleasure as he tasted your skin. You closed your eyes and brought your head back and began to grind your dripping cunt onto his thigh, no longer feeling the embarrassment that clouded your mind before. 

You began to quietly pant out labored breaths as he gently nipped your nipple between his blunt teeth, careful not to puncture you there. “Mmmmphhhh,” you groaned with need, which earned you a sultry giggle, “Eager aren’t we? Cannot wait to be on my fingers? Or how about on my face? My cock? Tell me what you want, my darling love. Let me hear you.” It was all too  much but not nearly enough to get you off. “Anything. I need you Astarion. Take me, use me. Mark me, fuck. Do anything you want to me,” you begged as you continued to grind on his thigh. The slick spreading everywhere, not that either of you cared at this exact moment. The only thought between the two of you was each other and each other's pleasure. 

A low growl came from Astarion’s chest, “Come here then, on all fours.” Astarion moved to give you more space, pulling down his trousers, you moaned with anticipation as his cock popped out, already achingly hard, precum deliciously pearled at the tip. You licked your lips and eyed up at him, “Please, let me suck your cock. Let me taste you.” Astarion had already fisted his erection, staring down at you, pumping slowly, “Good girl, you may suck my cock with that filthy mouth of yours.” 

You moved forward and took the head into your mouth, lavishing his flavor. Moaning onto his cock, you began to bob your head back and forth, your body moving slightly with you. Astarion held one of his hands on his hip while his other went to rest on your head. He didn’t push it down, only kept you and him moving together perfectly. “Gods, your mouth is so fucking warm. You were waiting all day for this weren’t you? Waiting for my cock to be inside you, wherever I wanted it to be, huh? My dirty girl, always so good and eager for me. Pleasing- hah, fuck that’s nice- pleasing me with your body,” Astarion praised you, his voice a slightly higher pitch than his normal speaking voice. You loved when he sounded like this. Free to express his pleasure however he wanted to, speak freely and openly. Whatever came to his mind during pleasure. He had begun to pump his hips in tandem to your movements. You took this opportunity to flick your tongue against his frenulum before fully letting Astarion take control. “Want me to face fuck you? Force your throat onto my cock?” Astarion had always made sure to ask. A low moan came from your chest, nodding as you felt pearls of wetness fall down your thighs. With your permission, Astarion grabbed your head and began to viciously pump your head and throat fully onto his cock at a devastating pace. The salty precum freely flows onto your tongue and down your throat. You looked up at Astarion, who already had his garnet eyes fixed onto you, “That’s right, take my cock. Look into my eyes while you gag on this dick. Fuck. Fuck, I love you. Mmmmmphhhhhh, I want to make love to you forever.” It was so liberating for the both of you. He noticed you trying to fuck yourself on nothing that was there, and took mercy on you by leaning over and using one of his hands to slide two fingers into your dripping wet cunt. You both moaned heavily, fucking each other in tandem to where pleasure knew no bounds between your bodies. “Fuck, I need to be inside you right now. I want to cum in you, please. Please let me fuck you,” Astarion began to whine. Immediately both of you let each other go, his cock releasing from your mouth with a pop. 

“Please, take me. Cum in me. Gods, fuck me,” you begged as well as you moved to lie on your back. You began to immediately play with your clit with your legs spread open, staring up at Astarion and noticed that he had instantly lost the rest of his clothing with lightning speed. With heavy eyes, he began to stroke himself with one hand, his other pinching his own nipple. You followed this and played with your own nipple as well. Your huffs of air coming from your open mouths as you pleasured yourselves just staring at each other. When you decided it was time, you used your fingers you were stroking your clit with to beckon Astarion down to you, smirking at each other as he took your slick fingers into his mouth as he settled between your legs. You hooked your legs around his, and braced yourself for his cock to finally be inside of you, wrapping both of your arms around his neck and shoulders to keep him close. You stared into each other's eyes as you could feel him enter you with the swollen head of his cock, both groaning at the feeling. You relished the stretch as he impaled you onto his cock, sinking deeper and deeper into you until he bottomed out, his thighs pressed into yours.“Fuck, move please, fuck me,” you whined as you began to wiggle your hips trying to fuck yourself on his thick cock. Astarion groaned at the sight and feeling of your entire being begging for him. He began to rock his hips to meet yours, huffing breaths with each thrust. He stared into your eyes and you stared back, the love between you two burning so intensely as the molten pleasure between you made your bodies sing for one another. You could feel his hips snap faster and faster, becoming more erratic. You would both come undone for each other. He leaned his head down to your neck, breathy high pitched whines quietly escaping his mouth as he kissed open mouth kisses below your ear. You brought one of your hands to play with the tip of his ear, you knew how much he loved his ears played with the closer he was to his end. “Please, please may I cum? Please I have been good, please let me cum,” Astarion slurred out, unable to keep his voice even. You always thought he was so cute when he asked to cum, genuinely as a light smile crooked the side of your mouth. 

A moan escaped your mouth as you leaned in, connecting your lips together and nodded as you deeply kissed him. You broke the kiss just long enough, “Yes, my love, come for me. P-please cum inside me, Astarion.” You gave him another kiss at the same time you clenched around him and lightly pinched his ear. His orgasm racked his body as his hips snapped violently into yours, slurring out your name as his eyes rolled backwards. The feeling of his cum shooting deep into you was all you needed to reach your climax as you felt your legs shake and arms tense around Astarion. 

Both of your breathing was deep and labored as you came back down, skin glistening with a sheer layer of sweat. “I love you,” came out of both your mouths at the same time and this caused a burst of laughter to erupt. Smiling down at you with his hair stringy and hanging down from sweat he went to move out of you, “Okay, hold on, I'm pulling out.” You felt the uncomfortable release and quietly winced. He rolled over and laid on his back and you rolled to your side, facing him. “So… feel any better?”, Astarion asked with a smirk adorning his face. You groaned in embarrassment, “...yes.” You knew he was genuinely asking, not just poking fun at you. You moved to wrap your arms around him as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders in return. You stayed there in contented silence until your stomach rumbled, which had Astarion snorting out a small laugh, “Come my dear, let's get you something to eat. I am sure Gale would be insulted if we stayed in here all night without you having dinner anyways.” 

You both got ready and began to make your way out of the tent, but did not find anyone at the campsite. You were suddenly worried of an ambush that had taken place during your intense romp together. But as you were walking around you found a quickly written note which read:

“ We decided to go to the river… We will be back once you “feel better”- Shadowheart”

The intense heat that spread through your cheeks, bringing a strong blush across your ears and entire face caused Astarion to full belly laugh after he had read what was contained in the letter. You covered your face with both hands and groaned in embarrassment, “ We are camping so far away from them from now on we are going to be across the river, oh my gods.”

[inahochi]

What other effects does this tea have? - It calms the mind. It improves sleep, and helps wake people up. Also, it's not good for pregnancies, but for actually giving birth, I've heard it helps with the delivery. It has more good effects than bad, then. - Yes, which is why it's hard to remember the bad effects. White tea. I tould you I wanted the watery tea. - Come to think of it, I've heard jasmine has another effect. What is it? - Decreased fertility, particularly for males. (Yikes, maybe that was a bit too much for a joke. I should get a snack...) I don't like this much. I'm leaving. (I messed up!)

THE APOTHECARY DIARIES ⋆ 薬屋のひとりごと (2025)

#26. caravan ⋆ 隊商

[darlingmbappe]

When We’re Ready [2] | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

[Part One] [Part Two]

Summary: After months of not getting pregnant, your mental health takes a big hit.

Warnings: SMUT! Minors, leave. Mentions of depression, slight angst, penetrative sex, oral (male receiving), brief self pleasure, cussing, google translated French, badly spell checked. Let me know if I missed anything! — English is not my first language —

Masterlist

The days were colder and the last snow of winter was sure to come any day now. Every morning, Kylian would leave bundled up and ready to train, and you’d stay home – left to your own devices with the same bitter thoughts you've collected over the past seven months. 

Getting laid off in early November seemed like a blessing in disguise, but sitting here in the chill of late February with nothing to do but wonder what the hell was wrong with your body made you realize it was more of a curse than a godsend. Maybe the universe was preparing your schedule for motherhood, you thought – needing time to ready the home for a newborn – time that you couldn't find with a job. But, still you remain jobless and without a child. Alone for most of the day, and sometimes days when Kylian went away.

Seven months seems like it’s too soon to feel this type of dreadful disappointment, especially since you’ve read it takes couples upwards of a year to get pregnant… but when you’ve prayed night after night, thoughts consumed with nothing but babies, listened to your husband raving about when the day finally comes, getting your hopes up just be let down once more… for seven months… it takes its toll. 

You were surprised when you heard a key jam into the front door, a mug full of lukewarm tea clung onto your chest as you watched trash TV in the living room, pajamas buried under the comforter you dragged directly from the downstairs guest room. You watched as Ky walked toward you with furrowed brows. 

“Hey.” His voice was gentle.

 “Hi.” You smile forcefully. “You’re home early.”

He hums and sits next to you on the couch. “Not really… It’s past six.”

When he said this to you, even with his tender tone, he hated how your face dropped with confusion, wondering how you spent your day cooped up in here. Of course he’d noticed your deteriorating emotional strength. He wasn’t so sure how to deal with all of this, also strained from having to pretend to be strong for the both of you. 

He kissed your cheek upon seeing your tears well up, pulling you into his body while you tried to hide your emotion. You laughed a little. “I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”

He rubbed your back in an attempt to sooth you. “Don’t be sorry. It’s okay, mon coeur.”

You pulled yourself together surprisingly quickly, the veil of embarrassment not unnoticed by your perceptive husband, but doing his best to not bring it up and make you more aware of his knowledge. 

He ordered take out while you took a steaming shower, satisfied at the dinner table with a mouth full of chicken fried rice. Conversations flowed innocently, but your heart faltered a bit when you got that notification on your phone from your period tracking app – you were ovulating!

Great.

The distinct chime made your food so dry in your mouth, having difficulty swallowing it. You put your phone face down on the table, pretending you didn't both see and hear it. 

He stares at you for a bit. You’re looking down at your plate, saying nothing, not meeting his gaze – though you felt it. He puts his hand on yours. “Bebe…”

“Stop.” You grumble, avoiding his eye contact. “I’m not in the mood.”

He sighs, clanging his fork a little louder than he intended to in the twinge of frustration. He understood, but he just wished you wouldn’t be so hard on yourself. 

In December, you both had visited a fertility clinic to make sure all the gears were working correctly – and they were. It was amazing news that gave you both a fresh drive after months of let downs, but two months and four negative tests harshly dampened that high. You had been pretty hard on yourself, even if Doctor Laclairc said you had a pristine uterus and it just takes longer for some people. 

The noise clattering on his plate caused you to look up, annoyed. Kylian rubbed his temples with his head in his hands, biting the inside of his cheek. 

“What?” You barked. He pursed his lips and shook his head. He was holding back, you could tell. “Just say it, Kylian.”

“What do you want me to say?” He hissed from across that table.

“Whatever you’re not saying right now!”

He takes in a deep breath of air, trying his best to keep his head level. You pointedly stare at him, waiting for something to leave his mouth. He wiped his face with a napkin, tossing it back on the table. “You’re not the only one hurting.” He placed it softly, but you can hear the deep exasperation, emotionally exhausted. It shook you a little, having seen Kylian as a steady rock through all of this. His optimism had carried you through, letting yourself cry in his arms to find comfort. Sure, you knew he felt sad, but he hasn't let you see his devastation in full swing. “Do you think I’m in the mood? I’m not. It’s exhausting.” His eyes were slightly glossy as he expressed himself, voice loud but so unsure. You stare at him, silent. “But, we have to keep trying. I want this. You want this – I know how bad you want this. So, please. Give us a chance.”

His voice was so gentle at the end, emotions soaking every word that left his chest. You dipped your head down, knowing how you'd let your thinned patience steer your words and actions. Kylian never deserved the misguided anger that you let seep through. He’d been nothing but an anchor through these tolling seasons, putting your stability in front of his own.

He gets up out of his chair and slowly walks to yours, kneeling at your side where you sat and stared up at your teary eyes. 

With your hand now taken in his, he places a gentle thumb on your cheek, guiding you to look at him. “It’ll all be worth it.” He confirms, kissing the back of your hand. 

You sniffled, nodding as you turned your body toward him. Your arms wrapped so tightly around his neck and his around your middle. You both breathed in at first contact, some tears falling into the fabric of each other's shirts. The way he grasped you was allconsuming. It was a true embrace that you returned. He just felt like home.

You kiss his cheek, smooching the area until you place one on his lips. Now, holding his face and gazing into him, the strong wall he had built was knocked down. You saw the pain and urgency swirl in his irises. He pecks your lips, letting his hands roam slowly on your back.

You sigh as your lips quivered. All he did was run a thumb over your bottom lip, holding back his own exploding emotions. 

He stood and your eyes followed him now hovering over you, both his hands cradling your face – then the pair of you found yourselves under the covers in your shared bed once more. 

It’s funny. When you first started dating, the infatuation was supernatural. You wondered at the time how you could possibly ever be upset while he had his cock buried inside of you, stare bearing down into your soul with eyes that were made of magma, fingers so curious and ready to please as they got to know the terrain of your body. 

You hadn’t felt the same way about sex in months. It felt like a chore. An obligation demanded by a stupid, inconsequential chime from the app that cost you €2.99 a month. Kylian would have to work himself up half the time and you were just a hole until he filled you up. Aftercare rituals now only consisted of laying still on your back with your feet in the air. An orgasm felt selfish for reasons you couldn’t explain. It’s like you didn’t dare give yourself that primal pleasure because you had convinced your body didn’t deserve it, having failed you over and over again. 

This time, Kylian wanted to wash away the notion that your recent string of bad luck wasn’t caused by one individual or the other. Through his achingly slow actions, he showed you that you weren't just two separate people trying to accomplish a goal; not like when he jerks himself in the bathroom and puts his dick inside of you right before he came. You were together on this. A unified front. Bound to each other for life. 

He praised your weary body, working you up like he used to. Moving at a snail pace, taking his time, dragging his fingers everywhere on your skin. The ‘I love you’’s and the expressions of devotion he mumbled against you flooded your senses. The drag of his member that squeezed against your walls, the inexpressible and constant eye contact, the lost kisses and marks left behind… It was purely and literally making love. He made love to you. You made love to him.

A fortnight passed once more and it was time for your bi-weekly personal hell. Kylian grabbed one of the many pregnancy test boxes from the cabinet in your shared bathroom, opening it for you and setting it next to the toilet – the usual routine. 

He kissed your forehead. “I have a good feeling about this one.” Kylian mentioned with a grin on his face.

“I hate when you say stuff like that.” You mumble walking toward the small toilet room to leave Kylian alone by the his-and-hers sinks. 

He stops you with a hand on your arm. The look on his face was exasperated. “Come on.” He pleads. “Amour, you have to have a little bit of hope. This isn’t how we thought it was going to be like, and I know that. I feel that. But, can you please just… fake it? For me?”

You sigh with a hand on your forehead, then churning out a grin for your husband. “I have a good feeling about this one!” It was a little too enthusiastic. 

He chuckled slightly at how forced your words sounded, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “That was a really good try.” Kiss. “And I appreciate the effort.”

You shake your head with a breathy laugh, but the knot in your stomach stays put, even with the tiny little grin that found its way onto your face without permission.

You’d found the easiest and cleanest way to pee on that stick after doing it so many times. It was generally quick and you didn’t find it gross at all anymore. You set the capped test on the back of the toilet seat and grab some toilet paper. When you stood up, you looked into the bowl before flushing, and the knot in your stomach intensified. 

Kylian leaned against the marble with his arms crossed, looking up at you when you opened the door. “I’ll set the timer.”

You pressed your foot on the trash can pedal and threw the plastic stick inside. “Don’t bother.” You mutter, walking back into the bedroom and throwing yourself on the mattress, body turned opposite of Kylian.

He runs a hand over his scalp, feeling the anger simmering at the surface, letting his feet guide him out of the tiled room. He sees you laying on your side, staring at the wall.

“I don’t know what else to say to you!” He cries out, staring at your back as you curl further into the pillow. “We’re both doing our part. Everyone said it would take time. We knew this would take time! Not everything is going to go our way, but we cannot stop trying. I really need you to start believing we can do this. We can!”

“I can’t, Kylian!” You sob, letting yourself breakdown. This anguish was brutal and completely unforgiving. “I can’t do it.” Your words barely make a sound; calling it a squeak would even be generous. 

His heart breaks and it softens him up a little. He didn’t mean to shout, but everything has just been building and building up inside of him. “Hey…” He coos, crawling on the bed over to your side, holding you apprehensively while you cry into your pillow. He pressed you close to his body when he felt the shaking of your weeps, spooning your figure that jolted in tandem with your cries. “Shh, shh… I know it hurts, amour. I know.”

“Something’s wrong with my body, Kylian. I don’t care what Doctor Laclairc said. She got it wrong. I know she did. I’m so sorry.” 

“No, no, bebe. Nothing is wrong with you.” He squeezes you tighter. “Nothing is wrong with your body. Even if we find out that this isn’t part of our journey, I will never stop loving you. Okay?” His assurance only made you turn into him, burying your face in his shirt, leaving a wet stain in your wake. 

You took a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself, only succeeding in halting your wails of sadness, but the tears still fell freely. “I just got my period.” You confess, feeling a wave of shame and guilt once more about your failure to conceive. The bloody toilet paper was a haunting image in your mind. Kylian shuts his eyes and just squeezes you, trying his hardest to make you see that it was okay. “I can’t take this anymore, Kylian, I can’t. I’m so sorry.”

He shakes his head, absolutely wrecked by the sight of your broken down persona. He’d catch you staring off into space, a depressing dullness surrounding what used to be an incredibly compelling aura. You were a shell of yourself for months now; going through the motions of daily life with a dark vail behind your eyes, losing interest in the things that used to make you happy. 

He silently cried, but you felt the drops on top of your head. “It’s okay.” He murmurs in a shaky voice. “We can start trying again in the future. Maybe it wasn’t time for us yet.”

You sob again. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re okay. We’re okay, amour.”

You continue to cry, Kylian finally allowing his tough-guy front drop in this moment of vulnerability. For better, for worse, in sickness, in health, ‘till death parts you from one anothers soothing embrace, you are together through it all.

The months leading up to that next summer were mundane. You’d found another job after coming to the realization that you weren't cut out to be the cute stay-at-home wife, but instead craved some sort of responsibility of your own. Kylian felt like you shouldn’t even have one because he could easily take care of you. Being married, his money was your money, but it was never about the money for you. You needed to dig yourself out of your depression hole sooner rather than later, and a consistent schedule was sure to be a nice addition to the rebuild of your mental health. Thank god for time off, though. Your bosses were huge Mbappé fans (like huge), and you weren’t past milking that for whenever you needed a couple days. You never took advantage of their generosity, but it was nice to know you could. 

Summer in Paris this year had been nice, but Greece had won your heart. Kylian’s cousin’s destination wedding had been planned on a secluded portion of Corfu. The resort was huge and the pair of you were able to sneak away from your usual work duties for two days to attend. The private jet made for an easy travel plan and really any excuse to use it was sufficient enough. 

The last time you’d seen most of Kylian’s family was a year ago – that night you couldn’t keep it in your pants. You had spiraled when you got to thinking about seeing them again a couple weeks ago, pleading with the gods that none of them asked about you and Ky having children. It’s been a little over five months since you decided to put the thought of babies on the back burner. Closing in on half a year and it is still painful. Mentally, you both were prepared to welcome a bundle of joy. The pregnancy books Kylian had picked up were buried deep in drawers you never thought about opening. You’d finally gotten your sex drive back in these months, having to re-learn to separate the pleasurable act with the tedious work of baby making. 

Sometimes you guys used condoms, sometimes you didn’t. Still, your period came and went like clockwork. You still hadn’t erased that little habit of resenting your shedding uterus every month, but you definitely felt like you were making progress. 

“This is nice.” You compliment the outdoor beachfront venue, walking hand in hand with your husband into the reception. 

He looks around. “Yeah, makes me rethink our wedding.”

You scoff. “Shut up! Our wedding was awesome.”

He laughs. “Relax! Jokes, jokes…” He goofily defends, walking you both over to the open bar and ordering you a drink. “Martini?” He double checks. 

“Please.”

He nods, ordering himself a whiskey coke, leaving the young bartender a tip that made his eyes almost pop out of his head.

For most of the night, you had to keep biting your tongue at the waves of people that came up to Kylian and asked for pictures. Sure, they were nice about it, but he was just trying to enjoy himself – and Kylian didn’t like telling people no. Especially not his cousin's friends. Him being whisked away left you clinging onto Ethans side most of the night, finding that Wilfried and Fayza were preoccupied with spending time with the family they didn’t get to see very often.

But, oh, the wandering eyes of a sixteen year old boy threatened to leave you on your own when he spotted a young girl about his age scrolling on her phone with the most bored look on her face. 

“Ethan, no!” You whined as he brushed his suit of any pieces of lint, ready to get up and greet her. “Don’t leave me, please.”

He laughs. “Dude, you can’t keep a lion in its cage.”

You made a stank face at his bad metaphor. “That doesn't even make sense.”

“Ya-huh.” He enunciated back, typical sibling tone. “Me – Ethan – is the lion. Mystery hot girl,” he points, “a gazelle. You – sister in law– cage.”

You roll your eyes, noting to have a conversation with Kylian about his little brother's ego. “This is a family wedding, Ethan.”

“So?”

“So, what if she’s like a distant cousin.”

He makes a grossed out face. “Why would you say that? She is not my cousin.”

“You don’t know that, little man.”

“Don’t call me little man.”

“Aw, is little man embarrassed?” You coo, teasing grin plastered on your face.

“No, shut up!”

“But, you’re an adorable wittle man.” You baby-talk, reaching over and pinching his cheek. He swats your hand away as you laugh at him.

“Stop!” He stands up and smooths out wrinkles. “I’m taller than your husband.” He reminds you. “Little man, my ass.” He scoffs, giving you the middle finger teasingly and secretively in case his family saw the obscene gesture. You discreetly give one back as he walks toward the girl, a flirty pep in his step while approaching her. 

You sigh to yourself, looking around and noticing that you didn’t actually know where Ky was. Last time you checked, the groomsmen had bombarded him with selfies by the DJ booth while he tried to have a conversion with his great auntie. You grab your martini and get up from the fountain ledge you sat on, a little tipsier than you thought you were. You stopped and looked around for him.

“Cute, right?”

You look to your left to wherever that feminine voice came from. A blonde middle aged woman in a red dress stands next to you holding a glass of champagne. 

“Sorry?” You ask, unsure if she was talking to you or not.

The lady points to a table a few yards away – and there he was. Kylian sat talking to some people, a toddler resting on his lap. He had a huge smile on his face, poking at the little girl's cheek to get her to giggle. You grinned at the sight, loving seeing him so happy.

You turn back to the woman to respond when you look down at her dress. She was pregnant. Very pregnant. She tips back her champagne. “Don’t worry. It’s ginger ale.” You nod at her, chuckling a bit. “Kylian’s your boyfriend, isn’t he?”

You turn your attention back to him just as the little girl stuck her whole fist in his whiskey, taking a piece of ice and trying to put it in her mouth. You laugh out loud when he frantically tries to pry her little hand open. Successful, he meets your eye and his smile was radiant and full of life, shaking his head. 

“He’s my husband, actually.”

She looks down at the empty martini glass in your hand. “No kids yet.” Her British accent was thick and assertive. 

You shake your head at the stranger and set the empty glass down on the empty table next to you. You felt a little awkward having this conversation with someone you don’t even know the name of. She must be some extended family or the wife of a distant cousin. She seems kind, but you weren’t big on sharing your personal life with anyone you didn't trust, much less know. Especially since you’ve been with Kylian, what you say affects him. He’s in the under bright spotlight and scrutiny of the public, and if you’ve learned anything while being with a global star, it is that some people will stop at nothing to get a story.

The woman tips back the rest of her ginger ale and sets her glass down next to yours. “Are you guys trying?”

She has an audacious look now that she stands in front of you and it makes you feel unsettled. “I’m sorry?”

The lady laughs a little. “I just wondered if you and Kylian planned on starting a family any time soon.”

You couldn’t stop the bewildered look that now took over your features. “Uh…” was all you could really say. You don’t know this woman, she doesn’t know you. It’s a loaded question and frankly quite bold of her to come up to you and ask. “What?”

“Kids.” She repeated, apparently not caring about the uncomfortable shift in mood. 

You opened your mouth, but had no idea what to say. You stuttered and tried to calm down with a forced chuckle. “What did you say your name was?”

She discreetly huffed.“Scheana Kingsley.” 

Definitely familiar, but you just couldn’t place your finger on it. “Right.” 

She waits. “So… any comment?”

“Hello.” Thank god. Fayza. She put a warm hand on your shoulder, perceptive to how tense you looked with this woman. “Scheana.” Fayza sighed. “Laurence is over by the cheese platters.” You loved how politely she just dismissed her.

The Scheana lady forced a smile at her. “Oh. Thank you.” She waved a hand goodbye with a disappointed breath. “Good talking to you.”

Your mother in law turned to you with a much clearer show of annoyance. You laugh lightly in disbelief. “Scheana Kingsley… should I know her?”

“You probably know about her. She writes for some news-gossip-pop-culture magazine.” She informs you. “Well, calling it news is charitable.”

“Unbelievable.” You scoff, crossing your arms at the revelation. “Who let her in here?”

“She’s married to Laurence over there. We try to keep our distance from them.”

From across the patio, Kylian turns his stare at you and his mother talking. You looked annoyed and frustrated, which made him so nervous. He excused himself from the small talk and speed walked over, thinking he might have to diffuse the situation – or maybe even get a scolding from his mother and his wife. God, he really hopes you two weren’t talking about him.

“My beautiful ladies.” He greets, kissing his mothers cheek then yours. “Everything okay?”

You smile at him. “You been having fun?”

“Yeah. Lot’s of fun.” He looks between the two of you. “You two are good, though?”

“Oh, no, we're fine.” You laugh it off.

“I saved your wife here from a conversation with Scheana Kingsley.” Fayza mentioned.

He shakes his head, scoffing a bit. “That woman… She has ambition, that’s for sure.” Now you remember why she sounded so familiar. Kylian had complained about his thrice removed family member’s new girlfriend a few years back and how she was a pushy reporter for The Paris Culture Magazine. “I’m surprised Laurence has kept her around for this long. What’d she say to you?”

They both turned their attention to you, waiting for you to say something. You shrug, but Kylian noticed the trepidation in your stare. “Nothing, really. Just some weird questions… I don't know.”

Thankfully, Fayza didn’t push it further, but you knew Kylian’s assuring hand on your waist meant that he knew something was up. You hadn’t asked Kylian if he’d shared with his parents that you were trying to get pregnant, but you doubted it. You would have noticed her demeanor change around you, given you saw her quite frequently. Besides, he would have checked with you before sharing that information with anybody.

There seemed to be a pattern occurring with you and Kylian leaving family events early, but the two of you were not only exhausted, but just not having a good time. The drunker the bridal party got, the more confident they felt hounding Kylian for selfies and videos. As for your mood, it was in a steady downward spiral ever since your interaction with Scheana. Just locking eyes, you both understood that it was time to surrender back into your suite. 

He held your hand out of the elevator, swinging your arm back and forth. The pair of you had an overly tipsy pep in your step from the drinks you’d forgotten to count through the night.

“You look gorgeous tonight.” He kissed your cheek, a smirk overtaking his face.

You giggle shyly as he unlocks the door to your room, letting you walk in first. You went directly to the bathroom, your bladder begging for some relief. Kylian wandered in to brush his teeth as you turned the shower on, taking your jewelry off as you let the water warm up. 

Kylian looked at your reflection in the mirror, shirt buttons completely undone. You were dazed. Quiet. He hated that look. He’d seen it take over you for months and finally, you were getting better. 

He spit the toothpaste in the sink. “What’s wrong, bébé?”

“Huh? Oh. Nothing. I’m fine.” You turn your back to him. “Will you unzip me?”

He turns, slowly pulling the tiny zipper all the way down. He kissed the skin where your neck met your shoulder. “Did Scheana say something to make you upset?”

You shrug, taking the dress off and neatly hanging it on the towel rack. “She couldn’t have known. I don’t think she meant any harm.” You hop in the shower, shutting the foggy glass door and let the hot water run over you.

Kylians blurry figure leaned against the other side to continue talking to you. “What’d she say?”

“Just asking questions.”

“About?”

A big sigh leaves you. “Us, I guess.” Kylian listens, knowing you have more to say but are just keeping it bottled up. There was always a clear guide of communication between you two, especially because you were really good at letting things eat you up from the inside. You fiddle with your wet hair and Kylians frame behind the foggy glass stayed put. “She just… It was just weird. She wanted to know if we had plans to have kids anytime soon.” You chuckled, hiding your dejection with the sound. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“That’s not okay.” He indicates. “I’m sorry she badgered you tonight, cherie. She crossed a line.” He sounded a little angry.

“Don’t worry about it, baby. It’s fine.” He opens the shower door, causing you to jolt a little. He steps in, raking his eyes over your naked wet body quickly, and you his. “Yeah, sure, you can join me.” You joke as he reaches for the soap bar.

“It’s not fine.” He discards your dismissiveness, rubbing your shoulders with the foam. “I’m gonna talk to Laurence about that.”

You melt into his touch. “No, really, you don’t have to–”

“I’m going to.” He whispers, kissing your cheek. “No one makes my wife upset and gets away with it.” His hands roamed down your arms. “My hot wife.” His breath tickled your ear. “My sexy wife.” He presses his body to yours, nudging your cheek with his nose until you turn your face, kissing you feverishly. 

You hum involuntarily into his mouth when his tongue decides to poke its way in, hand now feeling you up, tits squished between his fingers.

“Someone’s eager.” You laugh as he forces you to turn around, the hot water beating your back. 

He bites the side of your neck dramatically and you laugh harder, pushing him away playfully – but he pulls you back into his chest, smiling dotingly with you safe between his arms.

“You wanna?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

You made a pensive face, pretending to really think about it. “I could be convinced.”

“Yeah?” 

“Maybe.” You smirk as he bites his grinning lips, hands lowering and squeezing your ass harshly. 

“Do you know how hot you looked in your dress tonight?” He continued feeling you up, dick pressed against your thigh, slowly getting harder by the second. “I swear, I was so close to sneaking off to some empty part of the beach and bending you over. Driving me crazy.”

Your hands ran down the rigid muscles on his chest, feeling electric under his burning stare, hot at the thought of him fucking you out of impulse. “Do I make you feel all hot and bothered?” You ask, his stare is so dark. So needy. You lean in only a little, teasing a kiss on his lips, but never truly meeting their plush touch. “Do you start thinking about what you would do to me? Thinking about touching me? Fucking me?” He growls at your words, tilting his face forward to try and steal a kiss. “Show me.”

He grips the flesh of your ass and pulls you even closer to him, frantically showing you his desire for you with a hungry kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck and he moves his hands upward and begins pawing at your exposed breasts. The steaming water dripping down your entwined bodies made everything slick, slippery, conditions that caused you both to grip to each other's bodies for security.

You reach a hand down and grab his growing cock, pumping it loosely, trying to get him fully erect. A moan vibrates out of his throat as your movements focus on his sensitive tip, thumbing the slit, feeling him grow and stiffen in the palm of your hand.

You kiss down his neck, then move to whisper to him, sultry as ever. “Am I doing something like this when you fantasize?”

He nods under your spell, eyes drooping in pure lust. “Uh-huh. Just like that.”

Gaining control over him, you waddle your bodies back until his back hits the wall. He shivers at the cold tile in the steamy shower, but forgets all memories of the chill when you kiss down his neck, lowering your body on your knees, hands trailing down so slowly, mouth inches from his swinging member. His hips jut forward and it hits your cheek. You follow it with your mouth, letting it graze your lips in passing. The blinking stare and batting lashes almost drew blood on his lower lip from how hard he bit it. 

“Open up, ange.” Angel, he called you, but you were so sinful. On his knees in front of him. Droplets reflecting off your skin from the harsh light. His eyes felt undeserving of seeing you so ready to praise him. It made him feel so mortal, so lucky. He thanked the higher power that brought you to him, feeling an intense desire to take care of you – tend to your every wish.

You took hold of him with a sure fist, darting your tongue out and licking one long strip from his base to his mushroom head, letting your lips wrap around him and sucking to hear his moan. His face scrunched. His skull lulled into the wall.

You took him in your mouth a little over halfway, moving your mouth in tandem with your hand, enjoying the way his cock nudged against the back of your throat continuously to your rhythm.

“Oui, dieu.” God, yes. He fisted the back of your sopping wet hair, pulling you off of him and forcing you to look up at him. “Touch yourself for me, baby.”

You shut your mouth and swallowed harshly. He ran his thumb against your lips, hooking it on your bottom row of teeth, opening you up once more. Your tongue licked the pad of his finger, dipping your hand between your legs and quickly finding your clit. Your brows furrowed and your eyes widened. As the moan slipped from your throat, he placed your face directly back to his throbbing cock. Now, he had control of your movements, using your hair as a handle for his intentions, guiding your mouth up and down his shaft in quick movements. You gagged when he began thrusting concurrently to the tempo he stuffed you into his pelvis, heavy heaves and grunts erupting from his chest.

You gargled and gagged on your own spit and moans of pleasure from your own fingers, tasting the salty precum that dripped from your chin as you harshly sucked off your loving husband. You kept your vision from squinting together as you met his eyes through teary eyelashes. He fucked your face like you hadn’t had sex in years, rough with his actions and getting off on the way you were taking it. 

His dick disappeared inside your mouth swiftly and urgently until he couldn't resist. He stopped thrusting, looking deep into your eyes – mouth still stuffed with him. He pushed his hand, demanding you take every inch of him down your open throat. You choked on him, the muffle of your gagging making him see stars.

You hit his thigh after a few seconds and he pulled his hand away. You gasped for air, noticing for the first time how sore your knees were against the hard tile. He let out a long hiss at the loss of your mouth, watching through heavy blinks as you sat against the opposite wall in the small area – knees red and patterned with the lines from the floor. Your chest moved with your big breaths, smiling and commending yourself for the avidity in Kylian’s eyes. 

With your knees pulled to your chest, you slowly opened your legs, fingers playing with yourself as you made a show of how good you were making yourself feel. His pupils dilated at the way you ran your free hand across your thigh then up your chest, pitching a pulling your nipple with your lip tucked between your teeth. 

He whined – a desperate noise that came up naturally. He reached down to touch himself to the sight of you, pumping a slow fist against himself. His long strokes teased his tip until he shuddered, eye contact non-negotiable. You couldn’t look away if you tried. Your swirling moans echoed in the small chamber – his eyes glued to the way your own fingers stretched and spread your pussy. Your own were attentive to the tug at the nape of his base. Though, you both looked up at the same time, hypnotized by your partners mutual ogling. He steps forward, hand still on himself. You reach for his hand and he helps you up, immediately pulling you by the small of your back into his lips, tongue lapping yours, absolutely famished. 

He had clocked the little ledge in the corner from the second he walked into the intimate shower. He put his hand out behind you so the edge wouldn't hurt you, then used his strength to hoist your slippery skin up onto it. He placed himself between your legs, your back pressed to the wall, the shelf only fitting half of your rear — but it was the perfect height for him to fuck you like he wanted to. 

He lined himself up quickly and desperately spreading your pussy wide open for him, pushing in and dragging out. One long moan came straight from your throat, clinging onto his neck to keep yourself in that same position. 

“Fuck.” He grumbled. “You feel so good.” His pace was deadly, tip poking and poking that spot. It made your eyes cross, resting your damp head on the wall. “Been wanting to do this all night. Merde. Les choses que tu me fais, tu me rends fou.” Shit. The things you do to me. You make me fucking crazy.

You moaned in response, too focused on the way his neatly trimmed pelvis rubbed against your clit every time he pushed inside of you. It felt euphoric. Magical. Goddamn perfect. The only words you could muster out made him giggle through his heaves. “Please don’t slip.”

Your arm knocked over a few shampoo bottles when he buried himself deeply inside of you and stopped – making you borderline scream from how deep he actually was, and this position made everything feel… more.

He groaned so loudly, his mouth in the shape of an ‘O’, and you understood why when you felt him cumming inside of you, hot spurts surely dripping out. You didn't notice him biting your forearm until he let go of it, keeping his mouth against you before turning to look into your eyes. A slightly apologetic look turned cocky when one hand reached for your sensitive nub, rubbing just the way you like it, still inside of you.

“Oh, shit…” You breathed, eyes connected to the way he pleased you. “I’m fucking close.”

“Vulgar tonight, are we?” He teased your language, a tired smirk on his face.

“You just…” you begin, but he shuts you up with a small unprecedented thrust. “Fuck!”

He hisses, not really being able to take the overstimulation, but continuing to push into you sporadically – purly for your pleasure. Thankfully, it didn’t take you long to reach your climax. 

He didn’t need the warning upon feeling your legs give out slightly, pressing against you to keep you on the shelf. They started shaking as your eyes closed, a fierce moan exploding from your wet parted lips. He moved his hips with a contorted face until he felt you calm down, now whining and whispering to the touch of his fingers as they slowed down, pressing down harder on you before disappearing altogether. 

You pat his back lazily and he pulled out of you carefully, setting your wobbly legs on the slippery floor. You’d completely forgotten the shower was on as you watched it drain down. Kylian held your waist steadily, both breathing heavy. He lands two gentle taps on your bum. “Let's not waste anymore water, yeah?” 

The vacation, though brief, was absolutely refreshing. It gave time that you and Kylian needed to feel closer. The offseason couldn’t come soon enough. You didn’t have to revolve around his schedule during those weeks because he was just home already. To you, there was nothing better than coming downstairs at 2pm on a Tuesday and seeing Ky there, drinking orange juice straight from the bottle, or being able to binge a series with him much quicker because he had time for more than just two episodes. By all means, being married to him shouldn’t be easy, and it’s not necessarily that simple… but it should be way harder. Maybe you were just more patient, but you’re almost certain it has everything to do with him. He made time. He made an effort. He tries his damn hardest. How could you possibly hold that against him?

You didn’t notice the way you were staring at him, chin in the palm of your hand, daydreaming about your entire history with Kylian Mbappé – a man with no time to spare, but he damn well made sure you fit in his schedule. 

“Why are you staring at me like that?” He grins, setting down his coffee across the table from you in your shared Parisian home. 

You blink, smiling in embarrassment. “No reason.”

You push some eggs around on your plate. He leans forward. “What were you thinking about?”

You shrug at him, still smiling. “Greece.”

His laugh gave away his fondest memory of that trip. “We gotta do that trip again soon, amour.”

“Yeah, like they’d give you that kind of time off twice within two months.”

His head shakes, snickering at that complete impossibility. “I think they’d send me a fee for even asking.” He looks at the time on his phone. “I should probably get going, though.” He gets up and collects his things.

“Drink lots of water today, okay? It’s supposed to get really hot around noon.”

“Yes, dear.” He drones jokingly, smirking as he makes his way over to you, pecking you quickly. “Love you.”

You squeeze his hand quickly. “Love you, too.”

Now, your separate days begin – his a little earlier than yours, but you still just wanted to envelope yourself back inside the covers. You were thinking about calling out sick, which wouldn't be a complete lie. The scrambled eggs were not sitting right this morning, or maybe it was the Thai restaurant you ate at last night. Either way, you couldn’t remember where you put the Pepto-bismol. The empty space in the medicine cabinet left you wondering if Kylian had drunk up the last bit and hadn’t bought a new one yet.

You maintain your breathing steady to keep yourself from throwing up as you shuffle through the drawers. Praying it was in the last one, you pull it open desperately, but only facing three boxes of pregnancy tests. The rush of everything fell still, the air much quieter as you got flashbacks from last year.

You didn’t let yourself think about it much, but you never really got over not getting pregnant. Mentally and emotionally, you were still there. The pain and devastation got easier to mask, but they stayed with you.

It was time you got over it, or at least lost the fear of not being able to have children... the fear of not being able to provide Kylian with a child. If you kept on being bitter about this whole ordeal, you don't know if you'd ever be in the right headspace to try for a baby ever again.

You stare at the tests and shake your head. “Fuck it.” 

You snatch one from the drawer and beeline to the bathroom, peeing on the stick and thinking about how dumb it was that you had let this trivial little test ruin your for months. This time, you wouldn’t feel the dread collect inside your stomach. It would be okay. It wouldn’t hold power over you anymore.

Immediately walking out, you press down on the pedal of the trashcan and you watch it fall into the bin, feeling proud of yourself for not caring about that little plastic stick or what it had to say about your body. You weren't pregnant right now… and that's okay. 

You sigh, a proud feeling swirling with sadness was still progress. 

“Oh, no.” You mumble, feeling your stomach churn and running back toward the toilet, puking horrifically. It was a bad one. Maybe calling out sick was for the best. Who knows, it could be a stomach bug and contagious… but, unfortunately, you felt a lot better afterwards. 

It was probably best if you went to work. There’s a promotion you’ve been chasing and you had just taken those days off for the wedding last month. Trudingly, you got ready to leave the house, rushing a bit since you hadn't realized how late in the morning it was. 

Thank god you went. It was a hectic day; some project deadline wasn’t met and, for some reason, people turned to you for the solution. You were still relatively new at the company, but today, you really felt like you were doing something right. You left the office with a pat on the back from your big boss. That felt amazing. Kickin’ ass and taking names.

You were late coming home, texting Ky to let him know that you wouldn't be there when he got back. He texted back a simple:

Ky: :(

To which you responded with:

You: Bad day?

Ky: Just miss you. You were on my mind a lot today

You frown while walking to your car, wanting to get home quickly and hug him tightly.

You: Baby :( I’m on my way home now. 

You: I have a big kiss just for you <3

The second you walked through the door about half an hour later, Kylian embraced you tightly, taking you by surprise but you easily fell into his arms. You could feel his stress radiating from his body as he followed at your foot around the house. He was quiet in asking if you wanted to take a shower, but his eyes were loud in telling you he just needed to be close to you tonight. 

It was an innocent shower, his silent begging for a back rub and skin-to-skin contact was obvious as he kept his hand warmly on you at all times.

“You okay, hun?” You ask gently, tracing the frown line between his eyebrows after turning the water off.

He nods, eyes sleepy even though it was only eight o'clock at night. “Have you eaten?” He changes the topic, opening the shower door and wrapping you in a towel.

You shrug. “I haven't really been hungry today.” Ever since you threw up this morning, the thought of eating made you grimace. “Did you feel weird after last night's Thai?”

“I felt fine. Why? Is your stomach bothering you?”

You shake your head no as you shuffle through your drawers. “Just a little queasy this morning.”

You both get dressed quickly and lazily, surprised at how early you were deciding to turn in. Kylian was quite a bit needy tonight, pawing and tugging you close to him while he put on Pretty Little Liars… He would deny it to anyone, but he was obsessed with that show. 

“What the hell is she wearing?” He tusks at the screen, apparently not approving of Spencer's outfit for the Prom. 

You giggle into his chest, shaking your head slightly. “I’m gonna go pee.” You pat his bare chest and leave his side, hopping over to the ensuite. 

You wanted to be quick about it, your feet cold from the chilly tile and lack of socks. Kylian had opened a new toothpaste packet and left the empty box on the counter. You roll your eyes. He’s notorious for leaving things that should be trash anywhere but the trash can – an unfortunate side effect of having someone pick up after you as a professional athlete. You bitterly grab the cardboard box and press your foot down on the petal of the trashcan, but freeze when you spot the pregnancy test you took that morning. You wanted to look at it.

Is it worth looking at it? You hadn't even thought about it all day, which is a huge step for you. Only a few months ago, you would have been debilitated at work – and you sure as hell wouldn't have been able to step up like you did. You would have been crying quietly in your cubicle, taking far too many bathroom breaks. 

But… it was winking at you. Calling your name. Taunting you face down in the plastic liner. 

With a gulp and a deep breath in, you shook your head disapprovingly at yourself. It’s gonna be negative, you think, preparing yourself for disappointment as you fish it out of the bin. You gave a deep sigh before letting your eyes trail down to your hand where the thing burned a hole on your skin. 

The gasp that came from your mouth was severe, loud, alarming. 

Two lines. Pregnant. 

“Oh my god.” You mumble, much too quietly for Kylain to hear you behind the closed door. You begin laughing as it settles in what you’re seeing. “Oh my god! Kylian!” You desperately call. “Kylian!”

“What happened?” Kylian shoots out from under the covers and your current brain functions were a little crossed as you gaped at the test. The positive test. “Babe?” He comes into the bathroom with a furrowed and concerned look. “Are you okay?”

You respond with a look he was unfamiliar with. Immediately noticing the tears that had collected on your lash line, he reached for you. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him, seeing him for the first time as the father of the child inside your stomach. “Kylain.” He had never heard his name come from your lips with as much affection as it did right now.

He gladly took the hug you attacked him with, but the mood inside the bathroom was a little bewildering. 

“What’s going on, amour?” He coos, but you can only sob joyfully into his shoulder, holding the test behind his back as you embrace him – staring at the double lines like it would suddenly turn in one and you'd realize that this was never real. But it was. The results were right there in the palm of your hand. He mistook your cries for sadness, placing an assuring hand on the back of your head. “Tell me what’s wrong.” His voice was so soft.

“I love you so much.” You smile, pulling back and planting a long, wet kiss on his unexpecting lips. 

He’s so confused. “I love you too…” He raises an eyebrow when your hand meets his, an object placed in his palm. “What is this?” He asks before looking at it.

It takes a second for it to process, and you find yourself wishing you had a photographic memory, wanting to see his first face of realization again and again for the rest of your life. His eyes might as well have fallen out of his head with how wide his eyes went. 

“Wha…” He stutters, completely transfixed on the test. “Is this real?!” He finally looks at you, excitement would be the biggest understatement of the century.

“Of course it is.” You squeak, still clinging onto your husband as you both look at the stick. “I’m pregnant.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“I’m pregnant.” You both take a big breath in, crying simultaneously, absolutely elated. 

Kylian stares at the stick with a squinty and wrinkly smile before he looks at you — eyes tender and grateful. He drops the stick in the sink basin, grabbing your face with his two large hands, forehead pressed to yours to let the moment really register. He kisses you as best he could with the smile that engulfed his features, wrapping you up in his arms, truly holding you. 

“I love you.” He whispers from his chest, an earth shattering smile finding a permanent home on his face. “We’re having a baby.”

A/N: Okay, I don't hate it, but it's not my fav. It's finals in uni and I'm a wee bit preoccupied with those responsibilities. Still though, I think I had some good parts in here! It's mostly just the ending that's bugging me. Also, I know nothing about pregnancies and all that jazz so this is pure Google info so I apologize for any inaccuracies!

Taglist: @trentione @mentalbaddie @neymarsrealgf @akiraquote @mrswhitethornbelikov @kymb-10 @formula101x @photmath @marcelineslove @tsikik @iheartkyky @freshfraise @jokertbh @germanapples @urfuturesoccerwife @nightlockcornucopia @laylaynaynay130 @starlight8374 @depressoesssspresso @mbappesbae @ maddyperrezz @gigiboss @xanjoy @lovekm @jkkiks @vvbasmavv-blog @suzysface @ lolarmy72 @lizzz2967 @kylians-world @footballfeverr @superswaggycooch @shashla @mehrmonga @abayo222 @missmo79 @tties24-7 @gurleenkl @drewstarkeysbae @ vibinwkay @ctn26 @ippid @i0veless @abayo222 @b-bradshaw @http-isabela @zoeeeruiz @mitruscity @kenanlotus0 @mbapbaesluvr @alwaysclassyeagle @nhatquynh @philipetchebest @ricsaigaslec @dfswfvf @urfav-tz @kylianswag @fanatica2023 @alexisquinnlee-bc @megannandrewss @christianpulisic10 @pleasantducktimetravel @forevernightmaree @sachaa-ff @neymarloverxxx @4nn4rchive @lunamelona

[greycloudsinwinter]

Part two of Yan Viserys and Yan Otto was *chef's kiss*

Since we now have a male child for the king and maybe more (After Aegon we have Aemon, Helaena and Daeron) and some extras to please Lord Hand, how will they defend us from an upset Rhaenyra for taking away his throne? Will Daemon be on his side? The Velaryons? You opened my mind to so many possibilities and I adore it 🫶🏼

YANDERE VISERYS AND OTTO X READER QUESTIONS 2

🐉viserys knew it was risky putting yours and his son as the next heir. He loves his daughter truly but he will put your children before her.

🛕Otto had it all planned even going so far as giving you fertile tea but telling you it was moon tea.

🐉if rhaenyra was to harm her half brother viserys would punish her.

🛕Otto had lords vow to protect your son and they were more then happy to do it since they didn’t want a women on the throne.

🐉🛕daemon hates Otto with a passion and loves rhaenyra so he would be against viserys wishes. Going so far as too claim his brothers children as bastards to which he suffers a great punishment. losing a finger as punishment and warning for the next time he speaks out of hand. Otto by the way is loving seeing daemon being punished.

🐉🛕velaryons will demand that one of your sons marry there grand children . But they would bend the knee to your son either way because they do not wish to be part of the bloodshed. That could possibly unfold and if it did they want to be on the winning side so there house survives.

Thank you for the question ❤️❤️

[lemonmaid]

omg I NEED MORE OF THOSE OMEGA X OMEGA STORIES I REALLY ENJOYED THE OMEGA LEVI X OMEGA MALE READER SHORT STORY WAHHHH

Since, AOT ended, why not.

Warnings: AOT ENDING SPOILERS, MALE READER, OMEGAVERSE, MPREG.

It's been three years since the battle between heaven and earth.

(Name) watched fondly as Gabi and Folco help Levi out of his wheelchair, walking to the part of the garden where Levi harvested tea leaves.

(Name) liked to think of the two as his and Levi's pups, if they could have any, or if the two didn't already have a dam. (Name) sighed, on one hand, omega and omega relationships were rare but they could still have a slightly slim chance of children, the biggest problem was, that Levi hadn't had a heat because of the stress of his upbringing and his life in the scouts was even more stressful, so a proper heat cycle was slim. Meanwhile, (Name) had been on suppressants ever since he had access to the advanced technology, so who knows how damaged both their bodies are.

"Oi did you hear me?".

(Name) laughed, "Sorry, I was lost, in my own thoughts".

Levi hummed, "Gabi and Falco went for the day".

"Did they now".

Levi wrapped his arms around (Name)'s waist, "We have time to ourselves now".

"Oh".

'Oh'.

Levi kissed (Name), deepening the kiss, "Levi... out here?".

Levi purred, grabbing the blanket that was on the back of his wheelchair.

☆

The two omegas stared at the night sky, under the covers, basking in each other's warmth.

(Name) chirped,"They said on the radio that you'll be able to see a meter shower tonight".

"Do... you want a pup?".

(Name) looked at Levi bugged-eyed, "I- I think-". (Name) sat in thought, on one hand, there isn't that much danger left in the world besides humans being humans, on the other hand, a pup represents their love and their survival.

(Name) breathed in deeply, "I think I do".

Levi smiled, "okay... let's try".

☆

The two traveled into town, after a few months of trying and nothing popping up from the both of them, they decided to go to a doctor.

"When's the last time both of you had a natural heat?".

Their silence was telling already, "Well.. I haven't had one since... my younger days... meanwhile Levi hasn't had one".

The doctor hummed, "I'm going to give you two these simulating hormones, a fertility treatment for both of you. Do you guys have an alpha or-".

"No, it's just us" Levi snapped.

"Okay, well, I was going to say take it easy. Let the heat come naturally".

☆

After a two months of trying, four separate heats, finally good news.

(Name) came home from the doctor early, beeming with happiness.

"Levi! I have great news!".

Levi, came to the door, "I do too".

"You go first!".

"No, I wanna hear yours first".

"Levi.... I'm pregnant"

Levi's face paled, "are you sure? A hundred percent?".

(Name) nodded, "Yes, why?".

"Me too".

[peach-and-bugs]

💚Bean Sprout - Lottie Matthews x fem!Reader💚

ch 1 - chapter 2 - ch 3

Fanfiction master list

disclaimer: don't repost my work. I only post on Tumblr and on Ao3. anything else is stolen and should be removed immediately

Summary: You've been happily married to Charlotte Matthews for some odd years now, but it feels like it's time to take a step in a new direction together... aka mama!Lottie

Warnings: suggestive conversation & implication, insecurity

Word Count: 1,346

A/N: Hello Loves, we're back with more Mama!Lottie! I kept this one on the shorter side compared to most chapters I write, but this one kinda ended pretty naturally and I didn't feel like forcing more into it. As always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading! 💚

Lottie Matthews Tag List: (open) @elliesjoints

Yellowjackets Tag List: @frasersgf @minimickzy

"Bean Sprout" Tag List: @mistysswampmud @emilynissangtr

General Tag List: @summergeezburr

-💚-

Of course, a much longer conversation was had, and after a few weeks of intense organization, you both moved on to talking with doctors about your options. You agreed together that you’d carry, seeing as you were younger. You’d argued that 34 wasn’t all that much younger compared to 38, but Lottie had only laughed, shaking her head. It had been some time now, and you'd had begun taking a wide variety of supplements as you started tracking your cycle to get the IVF going. 

On this evening, you were lying flat on your back on the couch, flipping through a binder of potential male donors that the clinic had given you to look through held over your head. Lottie moved into the living room from the kitchen, carrying two mugs of tea with her. She set one down on the coffee table in front of you before she tapped at your feet, silently asking you to scoot. You lifted your feet but didn’t look up from the binder. 

“This is so weird,” You grumbled. Lottie sat at the other end of the couch with her feet up on the coffee table as she moved your feet across her lap. 

“What’s weird, love,” she hummed, taking a sip of her still-steaming tea. She’d been brewing raspberry tea all week partly because of its boost for fertility but also just because she loved the flavor with honey. You sighed, turning through to another page of the binder, your eyes scanning over strange men’s faces and credentials for why you should pick them.

“Flipping through this book just to choose who we’ll use to make our baby,” you scrunched your nose at the wording with a scowl that made Lottie chuckle into her cup. “I wish you could just get me pregnant,” You mused under your breath as you flicked through the binder again, only to look away once more when you heard Lottie hum.

“I’d be lying if I didn’t think about that,” you perked up at the admission, dropping the binder to your stomach as you looked up at her with an arched brow. 

“Oh, have you now?” you mused with a wicked grin. Lottie realized her mistake and refused to look up from her cup, now taking another long sip in an attempt to shield her eyes. The binder was forgotten and slipped onto the coffee table as you moved from you’re lying position. You readjusted, sitting up on your knees beside your wife, the proximity being enough for her to feel your breath fanning over the skin of her neck. Still, she didn't look up, her eyes trained on the cup in her hands as she stirred it with the tiny metal spoon she’d brought with her. 

“Charlotte,” you murmured her full first name in that sing-song tone you so often use. She both loved and hated when you'd do that because, on the one hand, she adored the sound of her voice leaving your lips, but on the other, she knew what game you were playing. You grinned and took the cup out of her hands, moving to the coffee table beside your own because it had become quite offensive the amount of attention it was getting as opposed to you. You could hear Lottie swallow as you moved to straddle your thighs over her lap, arms looping ever naturally around her neck as you tilted your head with an innocent look. 

“Tell me about it,” you mused, batting your eyelashes as she looked up at you as though she’d been caught in your headlights. You ran your fingertips over her forehead, brushing away loose hair that obstructed your view of her, your ever-beautiful wife who’d grown shy at her admission. You knew Lottie had a lot of thoughts when it came to this pregnancy, not all of them being the most innocent.

She rarely ever talked about it, but it had come up long before. Before you were married, even when she had been very drunk one night, her loose lips had let it slip that the thought of her partner carrying a baby, well, specifically your baby, together, was quite exciting, but not only because of the anticipation. She’d felt horrible the next morning, having realized what she’d said, which led you both down a long rabbit hole of conversation to normalize and help her feel better, that thinking that way about your partner was completely normal, and you found the idea quite flattering. 

You knew that given the current conversation buzzing around the house, some of those thoughts and feelings could potentially be found fronting in her mind, though she hadn’t said anything about it till now. And though you now questioned her in a way that made it clear you also found her thought arousing, she held her tongue, keeping her fantasy to herself, much to your disappointment, but you weren't going to push. 

“Well, if you aren't going to tell me, at least help me pick a baby daddy, won’t you?” that phrasing caught her attention now, and you felt her arms snake around your hips, tugging you into her ever so slightly as her eyes found yours with a scrunch in her brow. 

“We aren’t calling him that,” there was a hushed harshness to her insistence that you relished in, biting your lip as you laughed. Without another word, you leaned in and kissed her lips but retreated before any heat could be added. “What was that,” Lottie asked, finally smiling with a curious crook in her brow.

“I like it when you get jealous,” you murmured, pecking at her cheek as you leaned away to reach for the binder again. 

“I wasn’t jealous-” she began to argue as you readjusted yourself over her lap, now letting your legs stretch over the couch as you’re back rested against the arm of the couch. Lottie’s right arm curled around your side while her other hand found its place comfortably over your thigh as you presented her with the binder. 

“Anyways, how do we even choose a doner when we haven't picked an egg yet,” Lottie asked, changing the subject. You pressed your lips in a frown. Neither of you had considered that portion yet. 

“I mean, it doesn’t matter to me. The doctor said we could use either of our eggs,” you recalled. You looked up at your wife to notice a fleeting unsureness in her gaze. “Does that worry you?” you blinked up at her. She faltered as she began to speak, her hand aimlessly starting to rub at your back as she considered her words. 

“I do worry about using my eggs, yes,” she eventually managed. You wanted to urge her to elaborate till it dawned on you. 

“Lot, are you worried about passing your mental illness to the baby?” She didn’t have to answer to verify your suspicion. “Well, we can always use my eggs and find someone similar to you as our donor. That way, it feels more like an even mix, you know?” you brushed your thumb over the apple of her cheek. “Plus, that’ll shrink our pool of candidates and make picking a donor easier,” She seemed relieved by how seamlessly you could solve her worries, though she still had concerns. 

“But I worry it’ll feel more like you’re having a baby,” she murmured, her eyes fleeting from yours once more. You turned her chin with your hand, giving her a scowled look. 

“Lottie. Regardless of who’s carrying or who’s dna is being used, this is our baby. Yours and mine because we’re the ones going through this pregnancy together, and we’ll be the ones raising this child when it’s done, ok?” She sighed, and you could feel her relax under your touch, taking your hand in hers to kiss your fingertips, silently giving you her thanks for understanding. You smiled, letting go of a satisfied breath through your nose before turning back to the binder. 

“Now help me pick a sperm donor so we can get this show on the road,”

[mostotherthings]

Food, Love Language, Love Scout

With the work I do, i fully believe that carbs and sugar is a way of defeating stress (some days, i hit 15k - 20k steps Mon to Fri, and work from 7am onwards) I cannot explain how many long days have been saved by delivery of bubble tea and fried dough fritters with soy milk.

So this show, where eating, EATING and talking through problems as you eat or talking about your feelings as you eat, or discussing matters as you eat or have coffee- is really making me very happy.

I've also seen some comments saying, that as a secretary, Eun-ho is beholden to the person who pays his salary, that's why he works so hard and does all those extra things for Ji-hyun.

I agree that he works very, very hard. But there's a lot A LOT of things he does where he crosses the line first because he's not thinking of Ji-hyun as a job, he's thinking of her as a human he wants to take care of. (And THIS is Eun-ho's love language from the get go)

Look. No male colleague in the office has ever done the following things for me, whether he is my boss or my subordinate, no matter how close we are because THERE ARE LINES, YOU KNOW

He holds his hand over her head to protect it as she digs for documents (this causes him to be very close, a little bit too close a distance between a boss and subordinate)

He placed a plant right in her line of sight when she's working. Not flowers. a PLANT (that needs to be watered;fertilized; pruned)

He takes care of her belongings- including the bags she's tossing always, her pens, her shoes etc.

He buys her new hair ties (in one of the scenes, he gives her a hair tie that obviously Byeol's. Later on, he gives Byeol a hair tie that's obviously NOT Byeol's.)

He buys her things that he knows she likes to coax her to eat (this is a big one for me, even Mi-ae doesn't do this and they've been best friends forever! Mi-ae is at the point of friendship where ok you're a disaster, I can't fix you and I'll nag you to death but here's a secretary to save our personal AND working relationship before I stop working for you, which was very adult of her)

And of course, the latest episode where he puts himself and his career on the line by telling a very influential person - no, my boss is not going to do this for you. Or is it, my woman is not going to do this for you, huh?

And I know this is just a tiny tiny tidbit, but this got me

His rabokki is regular spicy. Hers are FIRE level spicy. That cartoon is literally on fire.

Look there has only ever been one person I've worked with who remembers exactly what my bubble tea order is and which kind of curry puffs I prefer (fish ones)- and even she has to think a bit before she remembers it. I myself had a boss who liked level 5 spicy things, I honestly WOULD NOT remember if I was buying ramen for her, I'll just end up buying the same 2 cups of ramen and that's done.

The point the show is telling you is not that he's working hard because he's beholden to her- he's mixing up his private and work thoughts together and it's meshing together into the "special" way he treats her. (He doesn't treat any of the other ladies, including Mi-ae, who he has known for a long time, like this, or Jung Writer that way)

It's going to the start of the angsts now that the makjang plot line has set in (fire, father, survivor's guilt) but BOYYYY does this show hit all my buttons. I really like this show at the moment. Hope it sticks the landing! (unlike, coughcough whenthephonerings)

[brustyventuring]

An anon asked to give a bit more details about my ABO AU, particularly in regards to Rusty's biology, how the boys were conceived and about Rusty's assault that I'd mentioned in my first lil cheat sheet about it. I'm gonna keep some of the details close to the chest bc there will be plot here and there that addresses some of these things! So all in due time ;)

But what I will say is in my ABO universes, I don't actually prefer mpreg, even if they're male Omegas. (I don't have anything against it, but its personally not my cup of tea). I'll put details about my ABO world bending under a cut bc that's a bit less off topic and wordy.

So for now the simple answer is: yes Rusty has messed up hormones, and that impacts things like being appealing to Alphas on a chemical level, having imbalanced heats, his general virility etc. The boys were born naturally, which means there's a mom that gave birth to them...the plot will reveal details later, but I will say that it DOES tie into the assault.

Hope that helps! But for now more general ABO lore stuff:

In my universes, I prefer the idea that the hormones that make Alphas vs Omegas fluctuate, like in real life counterparts akin to estrogen / testosterone. This means their second genders are on a scale sort of system. Alphas that are at the highest end of the scale are exclusively males because male testosterone and the Alpha hormones are the most potent together, but there can be Alphas with less testosterone that fall below that, male or female.

However, males always produce semen and fertilize female eggs, and the females always carry the children. I see the Alpha / Omega status hormones affecting factors such as their demeanor, roles society expects from them, their roles as a parent, and boosting fertility between partners.

Betas don't lack the hormones that determine Alpha / Omegas, it's just that they're so low in either hormone that it doesn't even register in a medical sense. They can get pregnant / impregnate Alphas or Omegas, but there are much lower chances of successful fertilization because the lack of hormones between the two enhancing each other.

Because of this scaling idea there is of course hierarchy. Alphas are 'supposed' to pair with Omegas and it's usually considered taboo if there are Alpha x Alpha, Omega x Omega or Beta x Alpha/Omega relations. More particularly, Male Alphas x Female Omegas are at the highest favored relationship in society, followed by "High Count" Alpha Females x "High Count" Omega Males (basically above a certain hormonal threshold for their second genders). Below that, gender combinations start to become considered lower in class and even judged, ESPECIALLY anyone unfortunate enough to be intersex in any capacity.

I think that's all I have for now, hopefully this clears up some things and gives you a better framework for where things might go!

[gracev0609]

Easily in Love

Josh X Male OC (Love)

The idea for this fic based on this ask! Thank you for the request @stayinginthesun

I decided to go in a slightly different direction than the usual Dad Josh content, but I really, really love Josh and Love and I hope you enjoy them too ❤️

Once again, thank you, my best friend @lipstickitty for helping me figure out ideas and directions I wanted this to go in.

Josh POV

Once you had gotten home, you fell into a sort of quiet state. One that was peculiar for you if one was to ask your Love about it. You couldn't help it, the mass of information you were given today was almost overwhelming. You both had met with your fertility doctor last week, and this morning you met with the surrogacy agency they were partnered with. There were so many decisions to be made.

"Josh... You okay hon?" He asked, sitting down next to you, placing a hot mug of tea down on your placemat.

"Yeah, there's just so much to think about. So much to decide on, my head hurts from it all."

He reaches up, gently rubbing the crown of your head, tension and worries melting away at the hands of your Love. He leaned in and kissed your temple," You know we don't have to decide today."

"I know but we need to do it soon. I want our baby." You reached forward bringing the beverage to your lips, feeling the steam tickle your nose.

He sits back in his chair, watching you drink the beverage that was lovingly prepared for you just the way you liked it.

"Ya know. It's not a hard decision for me. I want it to be you Josh. I want to use your sperm to make our baby. You're the light of my life, I can imagine how incredible our baby is going to be if you create them."

"Love ..."

He whispers, voice full of emotion," I don't think it needs to be much of a discussion. You're my pick, babe. "

Sitting your mug down on the kitchen table you turn in your seat to face him," But... Are you sure? I don't want you to feel left out."

He chuckles," Left out? Josh, I could never feel left out. We get to experience fatherhood together. I only hope our baby get your eyes, or your smile. Or, oh! Your laugh. I hope they get excited the same way you do over little gifts that others would find meaningless. I hope they find love in every little thing, like you do."

Shuddering out a breath, you feel overcome with emotions, with happiness," You really want it to be me?"

He grasps your hands in his, his touch feeling like home," I do Josh. I do."

💕💕💕💕

Love grasped your hand tightly as you sat, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as your family gathered at your home eager for your news. Weeks prior you and Love had selected the gender of your baby, but you had decided to wait to tell your family. After all, you loved a party. Drinks and laughter were being shared, everyone giddy to celebrate the clans newest member. As the evening went on the reveal was becoming highly anticipated.

Love leaned down, his voice soft asking," Are you ready to tell everyone Josh?"

You turned your head towards him, eager," So ready my Love, so ready."

He grasped your hand leading you to stand in front of the fireplace, where everyone will be able to see and hear.

Loves voice boomed, gathering the attention of your families," Okay okay! We are so happy that you all are here to celebrate our little bean. They're so healthy and strong, and they'll be home before we know it."

You leaned down, grabbing the brown neutral colored gift bag, and stuffed your hand in grabbing ahold of the colored onesie.

You chuffed," Mom's, are you watching?"

You found yours and Loves mom in the small crowd, maintaining eye contact for a few moments with each of them.

Pulling the tiny newborn size onesie out of the bag your family cheered as you and your Love said in unison," A girl!"

💕💕💕💕

You watched your Love with tears in your eyes. It was first night with your baby, your little Evelyn. He paced slowly around the nursery, a little bounce in his steps as he nestled her against his bare chest.

"Do you want a break? Your arms must be tired."

Loves voice was quiet," No. Not tired."

You giggled," Okay, let me rephrase that. Give me the baby it's my turn to hold her "

Love laughed, the rattling of his chest making your tiny baby squirm. He kissed the fuzzy top of her head before depositing her in your arms, her tiny fist clenching around the warm soft fabric of your oversized sweatshirt.

The tiny 6 or so pound warm weight on your chest was breathing deeply, her little legs curled up under her body, you hummed," Our perfect little Evie."

Love placed a tiny pink baby blanket in your lap, smiling," In case she gets cold. Do you want something to eat? I can heat up one one of those lasagnas my mom made us."

Your hands skirted down her little back," I could eat. She's gonna need a bottle soon."

"Okay, I'll make it while our dinners heating up."

You smile, a giggle escaping your lips," First family dinner."

Love leaned down kissing your daughters head before placing a deep kiss on your lips," First family dinner."

After you had a minor struggle with making a mess with the formula powder, you all filled your stomaches with delicious food. Love did the dishes while you burped and changed your little bean. Finally the three of you retired to the living room, you turned to your Love," Hey, what if we have our first Family Movie Night. Put on a childhood classic?"

He agreed, pulling up the newly subscribed Disney Plus.

"So what should we watch. Brother Bear? That was a good one."

"Nah, too new."

"2003 is too new?"

"What about Atlantis?"

"It came out in 2001, is that 'too new'?"

Chuckling, draping a blanket over yourself and Evelyn," Maybe, but I want to watch it."

He clicks play and they settle in, Evelyn fast asleep on your chest.

Giggling to yourself you look between Milo Thatch on the screen and Love, you take in his flowy dirty blonde hair, his glasses, and his mustache," You know. It makes sense that I had a crush on Milo as a kid. You two look so similar, the resemblance is uncanny!"

"Oh shut up! I don't look like Milo!"

Your giggling continues, disturbing Evie from her slumber," You really do!"

Patting her back you tried to soothe her, soon enough her tiny cries subside and she clutches her little hand around your finger. A little laugh/sob slips through your lips, the scene before you one of the cutest things you've ever witnessed.

Love leaned into your shoulder," See, she's holding her Daddy's hand. She loves you."

He grabs his phone from the coffee table in front of you, opening the camera app and taking a few photos. He clicks on the screen for a few more seconds before turning it around showing you the new folder," ❤️Evie & Josh❤️"

After the movie ends Love gets up, stretching out his back and yawning," I guess we better hit the hay. She's gonna be up in a few hours anyway."

He takes her from your grasp, extending his hand helping you up off the couch. Once again the three of you find yourselves in her pretty pink nursery. As Love gets her pajamas out, and a new diaper for her to change into, you take out your phone and press record.

Alright, here's our first Home Video! Here's miss Evie about to get a diaper change and her pajamas on. She's been such a good girl, and we are so so proud of her.

Love! Say hi to the camera!

Hi camera!

You're such an ass!

Pressing the record button again you stop the video, quickly adding it to a new folder titled 'Home Videos'

"Before you put her PJs on I'd like to get some pictures of you two, skin to skin.'

Love smiles, reaching behind his head pulling his shirt off. He scoops up his little girl, sitting down in the rocking chair next to the glowing salt lamp. Kneeling down on the floor you get the best angles, making them look ethereal in the glow. Your two favorite people, your Love and your Evie.

Crawling up to the chair you lean your head down, resting the side of your face against Love's chest. Leaning in you press kisses to the soft pink skin of Evelyn's tummy. All cute and slightly distended from her dinner.

"I love her so much. I'm so happy we have her."

Love tangles his fingers in your curls, scratching your scalp," I'm so happy too Josh.... Thank you. For agreeing to use your DNA. I can't wait to watch her grow and see her resemble the one I love most."

"I love you, my Love. You make it so easy to be in love with you."

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 45: Peace And Goodwill

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

Thomas’ gifted money to John did not go wasted. The view of the approaching country house brings a smile to my face, however the sight of someone hunched behind a boulder pointing a gun does not. The car halts next to the mailbox and I check the name. Shelby. I’m in the right place.

“Oi! Steenstra!” John shouts from across the lawn. “‘S that you?”

“Hello, John!” I wave back, clutching the bag of cookies I brought with me. “I come with neutral intentions and glad tidings!”

He relaxes and starts jogging over, followed by two small dogs. “You just missed Ada!”

“Thanks again for the party invitation. You didn’t really-”

“Oh yes, we did!” John cuts me off with a hug and eyes the bag. “It’s been a whole year since you’ve made us biscuits!”

I smile and quirk a brow. “So you’re excited I’m here just for my culinary skills, eh?”

“No, I did miss you,” he says sincerely. “‘S good to hear you and Ada have enjoyed America but it’s good to have you back.” He tugs at his coat. “It’s been bloody freezing! How are you not cold?”

I shrug. “I love the cold. It brings me back to my Scandinavian roots. The cold feels natural to me.”

John rolls his eyes and starts walking towards the house. “Oh, big deal. Brag about ancestors living in an ice cube. Let’s go inside for some tea, eh?”

He leads me to the front door and I walk inside to a cozy-looking parlor. I can’t help but notice the beautiful greenery draped over the fireplace. 

John catches me looking. “First time seeing a British Christmas, eh? We’ve got our traditions.” 

He points to something above my head. I look up to see a sprig of green plants with white berries tied together with a red bow.

“Mistletoe?”

I’m not unfamiliar with the custom. In my culture it’s a druid tradition that’s supposed to be a symbol of male fertility.

John grins deviously. “Want me to call Tommy over?”

I hold up a warning finger. “No. I mean it, John. No talk of that. I’m here to-”

“What? To make everything better again?” he mocks sarcastically with narrowed eyes. “Nice try.”

As if on cue, Esme appears in the doorway. Here we go.

Her vicious eyes cause me to freeze. “Verena.”

“Hello, Esme,” I greet gently. “How are the kids?”

“What money do you use?” 

Her question throws me off. “Pardon?”

Behind me John groans. “Again, Esme?”

“What. Money. Do. You. Use?” She demands.

“M-My earnings. And some funds from my vader.” I hold up my bag. “I brought biscuits. Some chocolate ones, but also some almond cookies. They’re shaped like Dutch Christmas characters.”

“You have no idea what we’ve gone through,” Esme snarls. “And you show up like nothing’s changed?”

My own face twists into a scowl. “You think I don’t know things have changed? I am truly sorry for what Thomas did to John and the others but it was not my fault.”

“She’s right,” John agrees. “But that doesn’t mean we’ll all come to terms because you’re playing peacemaker, Verena. I did invite him-”

“No, John!” Esme hisses. “No more of him!”

I hold up my hands and look between the couple. Tea will have to be postponed. “It’s been lovely to see you all but it’s getting late.”

“Good to see you, Verena,” John waves from the couch.

I can’t help but smile and set the bag of biscuits down next to him. “Merry Christmas to you both, and the children.”

I retreat back to the door before Esme can skin me alive. She follows me the same as a fox stalks its prey. 

“Are you staying with that bastard?”

I reach for the doorknob. “Yes.”

“Tell him to go to Hell.”

I think part of him believes he’s already there.

I’m so tired of being stuck in the car. Throughout the drive to Arrow House I watch the sun sink behind heavy gray clouds. I might not be as cold as others but I do still catch on to the dropping temperature. As the giant mansion approaches, a few random snowflakes scatter across the car window. I haul my trunk up the stone steps and am greeted by a stern-faced lady with her hair in a tight bun.

“Ms. Steenstra?” I nod and she continues. “I’m Frances, the head housekeeper. May I call a footman to take your bags?”

“No, no. That’s quite alright. I can manage.” I walk past her into the hallway and nearly bump into another maid. “Oh! Hello-”

Her eyes widen with panic. “I apologize, Ms. Steenstra!”

I frown. “What for?”

She looks down and wrings her hands together. “We’re not supposed to be seen. I- I took a wrong turn. This is the wrong staircase.”

There’s more than one? “You have your own staircase?”

She nods, still looking at the floor. “A hidden one.”

My curiosity sparks. “Can I see?”

Her head flies up. “Oh, miss, you don’t want to. It’s dark and full of spiders.”

I know Thomas treats his employees well but her skittery behavior makes me suspicious. “How exactly does the staff work here?”

Behind me I hear Francis let out a disapproving sniff. “A routine of tradition. You Americans obviously don’t follow it.”

The girl in front of me gulps. “Frances has the highest position of housekeeper. I’m only a scullery maid.”

My jaw drops and I wait for Francis to exit before speaking. “This traditional system is one-sided. How is being forced into always being in a poor society fair?”

Her eyes light up. “Actually Mr. Shelby is most generous with his terms of employment. Frankly, Francis is the one holding onto tradition.”

“Ah! You’ve met Lydia.”

We both turn to where Thomas has just walked in from his study. The maid immediately starts apologizing.

“Sorry Mr. Shelby. I was just leaving-”

“You can stay,” I assure Lydia and give Thomas a look. “She can stay, right Thomas?”

He looks as if this sounds like a simple request. “Yes.”

Another pair of eyes peeks out from behind Thomas’ legs. “Daddy, who’s this?”

Oh my. Charlie’s grown so much! He’s already talking. He’s grown into a sturdy, adorable child with curious eyes. Seeing him gives half the reason I wanted to return so badly.

Thomas kneels down next to him and points to me. “Charlie, this is my good friend Verena. Do you remember her?”

He scrunches his face at me. “V-Veena?”

“Vah-ree-nuh,” Thomas annunciates.

“Veena?" Charlie tries again. How cute!

“I like it,” I chuckle and also kneel down to his level, extending a hand for him to shake. “Merry Christmas Eve, Charles. It’s good to see you again. Have you been keeping your daddy in line?”

Charlie recognizes I’m no longer a complete stranger and grins at his father. “Uh-huh!”

Thomas puts a hand on his shoulder. “Charlie, Verena and I are going out for a talk. We’ll be back for supper, alright?”

Charlie nods eagerly. “Okay.”

Thomas calls for Francis to take him away and we both walk back to the front door. I look out the window and gasp in delight to see even more snowflakes flurrying through the darkening sky. It’s nearly dusk. The magical sight of the pure-white flakes almost looks imaginary.

“It’s finally snowing!” I can’t contain myself.

“Would you still be up for talking outside?” Thomas asks mysteriously. “I’ve got an idea.”

Now fate is just being cruel. A horseback ride through the snow? How more romantic is that? I guess as a city girl this is something very special. But Thomas doesn’t see this as anything intimate. To him a horseback ride is just another pastime. He preps a beautiful dark gray horse for me and his black horse for himself. 

“Do you know how to ride?” Thomas asks as I mount the large beast.

“I’ll figure it out as I go. I’m really excited!” I gush as the horse begins to trot through the billowing snow.

Thomas brings his horse ahead of me and starts leading us through the fields. I’ll admit the feeling of sitting on the horse's back is unfamiliarly awkward but the horse itself is being very gentle with me. It has a patience of its own and doesn’t go too fast.

“How’s she working?” Thomas calls from ahead.

“Very cooperative!” I respond. “What’s her name?”

“Scarlet.” He pauses a second. “I’ve got a question about your father.”

“Shoot.”

“How does your father handle differences in his employees? By sex, I mean.”

Interesting. There’s little chance that Thomas will change his own mind about how he runs things; but it’s refreshing to hear he wants to know how other families deal with problems. He’s showing an interest in my family the same way I have taken an interest in his.

“Simple. They’re all paid fair,” I say as Scarlet steps over a small brook. “What you work for is what you get. If you put in the time and effort then you reap the rewards. Man or woman, he doesn’t discriminate. Unlike some other shops near us. But he does set certain boundaries so women are not put in harm’s way.”

I’m starting to lose Thomas through the thick snow. He notices and halts his horse so we can stop to chat. 

 “Does he ever have strikers?”

“No need for any. Half of his employees are our family and he’s too gentle to let a disagreement go unsettled. Firm but kind, as moeder says. But our business is much less than yours. Yours is… an empire.”

Thomas nods, regarding me with a look that shows deep thought. “Your father runs things through strong capitalism.”

I smirk and wipe away some snowflakes from my hair. “That’s the American dream for you. We’ve had countless immigrants who were looking to build a life for themselves and their families. They start as bartenders, busboys, and janitors. Now they’re paid by salary. Some of the best rumrunners I’ve ever seen. Quite similar to how you run things.”

A spell of silence falls over us and we take a moment to enjoy the peaceful serenity. The only sound is the whistling of the wind through the tall grass. In the distance I see the warm glow of the Arrow House windows flickering through the snow. Not quite like Christmastime in Brooklyn but it looks like what all the greeting cards advertise. Abel’s right. It’s going to be a challenge to be away during the holidays.

Thomas breaks the silence. “‘S this your first Christmas away from home?” 

His soft voice and the bittersweet homesickness tug at me. “Yes.”

“Will you miss your family?”

A sad smile crosses my face. “That obvious, hm? I’ve only been away for a week but it’s different without being there for the holidays.”

Thomas reaches across for my hand but I still grip the reins. “Why didn’t you tell me? We could have waited until after the holidays for you to come back.”

“Because I knew I was needed here,” I answer wisely. “It’s been a hard year on everyone and… I felt God telling me to come back.”

“Is that the real reason you came?” 

He asks as if I’m not telling him everything. Why does this have to be so hard?!

“I still love your family after all these years, Thomas. You all need as much help as you can get.”

Thomas considers my answer and hums. “Charlie was certainly happy to see you. I’m sure they all were.”

He doesn’t need to elaborate. Ada and I have been the peacekeepers between the two opposing sides. Thomas vs. the line of everyone who hates him. And that line’s starting to become noticeably long.

“Thomas, please,” I plead as he starts leading his horse back towards the house. “You need to talk to your brothers. Mend this family.”

@meadows5

[endangered-aquarium-fish]

Samurai gourami (Sphaerichthys vaillanti)

Endangered

The samurai gourami is a small fish from the area of the Kapuas River in Borneo and its SO FUCKING COOL LOOK AT THEM I WANT ONE RAHHHH

They don’t actually live in the river, they’re way too cool for that-  

They live in a wonderfully bizarre habitat called a peat swamp, where pure rainwater pools over a meters-thick layer of decomposing leaves and wood fallen from the dense canopy above. The acids released as it all decays mean the pH of the water is so low (sometimes 3-4) that nothing can even decompose when it dies, and the tannic acids bond to any dissolved minerals and sink them into the soil. 

The water has the dark color and distinct scent of tea. It sits perfectly still, too dark for any plants to grow, so nearly every fish that makes its home there has to use a specialized organ called the labyrinth organ to get their oxygen from gulps of air. 

…btw, most adult fish will die within minutes in water like that - it’s nearly as acidic as pure vinegar. Samurai gouramis are literally so fucking metal… they live in the fucking Evil Death Water of Doom and theyre just. chilling. unbothered. thriving :3

The gouramis live in pairs, hidden in the tangles of submerged roots and branches and leaves. Their thin shape helps them mimic a dead leaf- and they play into that by acting like one too!! their slow, calm movement looks like they’re simply drifting peacefully through the water, even as they stalk their prey (mostly insects like mosquitoes). Also, they’re some of the biggest fish in the swamp- at a whopping 3 inches long. 

They usually form a social hierarchy where the biggest females get the best territory, food, and mates. And when they choose a mate, it gets really funky and weird :3

The males are less colorful than the females, but they have a pouch in their throat that they can extend as a display, kinda like an anole. The females lay from 10 to 40 eggs at a time before the males fertilize them and scoop them up with their mouth. It’s a lot like the toba betta, but it’s even more specialized - they keep the eggs in their throat pouch, even after they hatch 0.0 The babies spend a while growing up in there, just living in their father’s throat, and so he has to find a way to feed them…

He uses the tannic acids in the water. He absorbs them and mixes them with his own mucus, using their natural stickiness to form sort of a fishy tannin slime that he excretes into his throat like milk for the babies. They spend weeks nibbling at it until they get big enough that he can let them out to swim away. He doesn’t eat anything until they’re free. 

Overall 10/10 fish very funky does a masterful imitation of a leaf. but like if the leaf was fruity or something

They’re endangered by deforestation and pollution from illegal gold mining upstream. The efforts to protect them in the wild have failed, but not in aquariums :3

Luckily they don’t have to live in vinegar or acid rain or something. They’re okay in any soft water with a pH of 6.5 or less, which may even be how your tapwater is naturally. If not, you can gather fallen leaves, seed pods, and sticks from local trees and let those soak in your aquarium, and the tannins they release will give the fish what they need just like in the peat swamps. They really do need very soft water though, so if your water isn’t already naturally soft, this may not be the best fish for you. 

They do best in a shallow tank of at least 30 gallons, with very clean and warm water (75-82 F) and minimal flow. They don’t like bright light so add plenty of floating plants to cast shadows, and make sure the water has plenty of tannins to keep it that dark color. They can be very shy and reclusive sometimes so they really need a lot of cover to feel safe and comfortable enough to come out. It’s easy to give them that, just add lots of wood, dark caves, dead leaves, and plants to the tank. Most plants won’t do well in blackwater, but there are plenty that will - I like to use frogbit, cryptocorynes, water lilies, mosses, and some stem plants like rotala rotundifolia if you let them grow up to the surface. You can also use plants like pothos and peace lilies that like to grow with only their roots in the water - these are amazing at keeping the water clean and your gouramis will love the roots. There should be about an inch of air at the top for the fish to breathe from, and a lid to keep it humid enough so the babies’ labyrinth organs can develop properly. 

Samurai gouramis are wonderfully peaceful and harmless, so whatever you keep with them (except shrimp) is perfectly safe. The only thing you need to worry about is that the gouramis are slow and timid enough that a lot of other fish will eat all the food before they can get any- and if the other fish are aggressive at all the gouramis are done for. The best tankmates for samurai gouramis are small, slow, peaceful, and unintimidating, so I’d suggest a small school of pygmy cories or tiny rasboras like chili, kubotai, or axelrod rasboras. You could probably also keep them with similar peaceful gouramis like chocolate gouramis, licorice gouramis, or snakehead bettas. Just make sure you have plenty of other samurai gouramis (at least 6) since they need company almost as much as we do.

Breeding them is easy, just have a group and they’ll form pairs. The difference between males and females is really easy to see - the males are chocolatey brown like an old fallen leaf, and the females look like a psychedelic rainbow. They’ll all find their own spots in the tank when they decide to breed and eventually the males’ throats will be filled with eggs and they’ll become reclusive and stop eating for up to three weeks while they care for them. It’s best to move the adults into another tank temporarily for a few days after the babies are released or they could get eaten. The fry need to eat the microorganisms that grow around dead leaves, and they should be fed other tiny live foods as supplements like microworms and baby brine shrimp until they get big enough to eat what their parents eat. Even the adults are a bit picky and they prefer live foods but they can usually learn to eat protein rich prepared foods too.

Have fun with ur gouramis :3 

[silverthornwitchery]

🌙Diana-Luna As I Experience Her🌙

Other Names: Luna, Selene, Diana, Noctiluca

Diana-Luna, or simply Luna, is the personification of the Moon, and in my experience, The Stars and Night Sky. As the Moon, she rules over all things the Moon is associated with, such as fertility, magic, love, motherhood, and so forth. Luna is seen as an aspect of the Diva-Triformis (also called Diana-Triformis), which consists of Diana as Huntress/Diana of the Woods (simply referred to as Diana, though I like to be specific and refer to her as Diana-Nemorensis), Luna, and either Hekate/Trivia or Proserpina (though her Greek equivalent is Persephone, Proserpina can be quite different. It's dependent on your personal experience if they manifest as the same deity.). Aside from being an epithet of Diana, the name Luna has also been applied to Juno, which further intertwines Diana and Juno, as if I recall right they had been syncretized at certain points in history, especially in regards to Juno's Hellenic counterpart, Hera. It's from the syncretism of Hera-Diana, that we get Herodiana, and then Herodias as we know her in regards to medieval witch trials. Luna has been described as bull-horned, representing the crescent moon. Likewise, she's also depicted with a crescent moon crowning her head. Due to the myths of Selene becoming intertwined with Luna, her lovers are Endymion and Pan, though there may be more. Her other half & male counterpart (often deemed as her brother in myth) is Sol, known to the Greeks as Helios. 🌙My Syncretisms of Luna - UPG🌙 Diana Hekate Juno Tanith/Tanit Astarte Arianrhod Nyx Nuit Selene 🌙Offerings - UPG🌙 White Wine Green Tea Anything Jasmine flavored or Scented Jasmine flowers Selenite Moonstone Mead White Rum Lavender White Tea Oolong Tea

[overwatchloresnstuff]

Kiriko lore

Kiriko Yanagami was raised by her mother Asa, father Toshiro, and grandmother in Kanezaka Japan, in the far northern reaches of the Akita Prefecture. Akita prefecture is primarily dominated by rice and sake farms, and known for the Akita dog of the same name. Her mother and father had a thriving business named Yanagami Blades, with both serving as blacksmiths.

Her grandmother was a Shinto priest of the Inari Okami, the Japanese fox god, and brought Kiriko up worshipping the enigmatic god. Inari Okami is a fascinating figure in Japanese folklore; they are depicted as male, female or occasionally androgynous, and is the Shinto deity of fertility, rice, tea, sake, business success, industry, and prosperity. One of the more famous stories of Inari Okami involves them sending their fox spirits to aid the famous blacksmith Munechika forge the legendary Little Fox blade, so Inari has a close relationship with swordsmen and blacksmiths as well.

Inari Okami is one of the more widely worshiped Okami in the Shinto faith, and there are thousands of shrines to them. Most of these concern themselves with kitsune, Japanese foxes, and Inari is known to use pure white kitsune as messengers. The Yanagami family left traditional gifts of fried tofu and rice (Inari-zushi), and sake, and Kiriko was sent to sweep the Tetsuzan Shrine to Inari and upkeep the grounds as a child.

Kiriko’s grandmother taught Kiriko a very unusual gift; how to summon and commune with these beloved messengers of Inari. As Kiriko grew, she attended the temple with the priests and her grandmother, slowly bonding with the particular Kitsune her grandmother summoned. The Fox and Kiriko grew close, as did Kiriko’s relationship to the Okami themselves.

Kiriko’s mother Asa had another path. She took on the warrior aspect of Inari, believing the Okami wished their family to become stern protectors of the prefecture, to follow the ways of the ninja and fight for what was right. She forged her own blades as Munechika had. Her specialty was the sword and kunai, Japanese throwing knives, and Kiriko took to the kunai like a fish to water.

Her grandmother wanted her to become a healer. After all, Inari was not only the Okami of swordsmen but of fertility and the land. Why not become a healer, and follow beloved Inari’s example when they first brought rice to Japan and ended famine?

Asa, on the other hand, saw Kiriko’s potential as a warrior. Inari was not some meek creature, nor were their Kitsune. They were the patron of Japan’s legendary warriors, who rushed into battle with the jaws of the white fox at their sides! Kiriko was better off embodying these sleek predators.

Kiriko was torn. She didn’t want to disappoint either of them, but neither felt right.

She decided to meditate, and beg the kitsunes to bring her prayer to Inari for guidance. Her little Fox spirit appeared, and showed her the paths her family wanted. But were they a crossroads, or simply two lanes of the same path? Inari was the god of both, and so Kiriko would be.

Her heart settled, she returned to her mother and grandmother, and told them her decision. She would defend those who couldn’t defend themselves, and mend their wounds. Her family, thrilled with the decision, decided that Asa would train her in the way of the blade.

However, Kiriko was not Asa’s only student.

Asa Yanagami was considered to be one of the best swordswomen in Japan, as well as one of the last true blacksmiths in the old ways. Her services were hungrily sought after, and the Shimada Clan in Hanamura Tokyo wanted Asa as a teacher to their youngest sons. Asa relented, and brought Kiriko with her to teach the Shimada heir Hanzo and his brother Genji at Shimada Castle. The brothers were being taught the ways of the Shimada to lead the city of Hanamura, and as leaders they would need blade skills to defend their people.

The three had an unusual relationship. The elder brother Hanzo was dedicated to his father Sojiro and determined to be a good steward of Hanamura. After all, it was not a small task, and required discipline. Genji, on the other hand, was more than happy to foist responsibility on his brother. Kiriko was drawn to the younger brother’s mischievous nature, and the pair became inseparable.

Kiriko and Genji were, for lack of a better term, rowdy little foxes. They stole sweets from the servants using Asa’s teachings about wall climbing, pranked the hapless Hanzo for being a no good serious pants, and ran around Shimada castle as their own personal playground. The pair were scruffed and brought in by Asa and Sojiro on more than one occasion…Sojiro needed Genji to conduct himself in a manner befitting a son of Shimada, and Asa needed Kiriko to stop making a fox’s breakfast of her job. These skills were serious! Wall climbing as NOT for stealing treats. This did little to repress the pair, and while they all grew in their talents with the sword and stealth, Genji and Kiriko continued to cause chaos.

The three might have grown into adulthood together if not for the assassination of Sojiro Shimada by the Hashimoto clan.

With the death of the Shimadas’ leader, the entire criminal enterprise was in jeopardy. The elders of the clan were ready to appoint Hanzo Shimada as head of the clan, and ordered him to end Genji’s embarrassing behavior. This forced Hanzo to butcher Genji, and the guilt made him reject his father’s legacy. The Shimada clan collapsed inward, and the Hashimoto began hunting them openly. With the power vacuum in place, the Hashimoto took over Kanezaka and began terrorizing the residents.

Kiriko’s mother took up arms to defend the residents. Asa Yanagami wasn’t about to take this lying down, and if the Shimadas were going to let the people be robbed, raped and murdered while they descended into chaos, she would fix it.

In response, the Hashimoto kidnapped Toshiro Yanagami. They forced him to make blades for them, and threatened to kill him if Asa raised her hand against them. There was nothing Asa could do. Furious, she took her daughter and moved to the upper floor of the Yanagami Blades to keep her daughter safe.

Things went from bad to worse when the Hashimoto, emboldened by their power, went after Asa again. They had the best swordswoman and blacksmith in Kanezaka at their beck and call, and Asa resented the collar around her throat. She sent Kiriko to live with her grandmother, as even the Hashimoto would hesitate killing a priestess of the Inari.

Kiriko took on her grandmother's last name Kamori for her own safety, and Asa began the slow process of trying to rescue her husband from the clutches of the Hashimoto.

As she grew into a young woman, Kiriko found out the true depths of what had been done to her family. Her father’s slavery, her mother struggling to free him, and the terror that had spread through their once peaceful prefecture like a disease. Her father was able to communicate with her from his prison in Tokyo, and was able to craft her a sword and throwing knives.

With the death of her grandmother, Kiriko was determined to make life hell for the Hashimoto. She took on her grandmother's mantle as the guardian of the Tetsuzan shrine, and became its priestess. The Fox spirit she had become so close to in her youth was closer than ever before, and Kiriko’s mission became clear: destroy the Hashimoto, free her father, and bring peace back to Akita prefecture.

She got her own apartment, and joined her mother’s mission. Her mother worried about her constantly; Kiriko was a young woman, and the Hashimoto were cruel. Was she truly ready?

The true test came when the Hashimoto attacked her apartment complex while Asa was visiting Kiriko. They assaulted an old man named Yoshida that Kiriko had been caring for. Kiriko, enraged, used her healing ofuda to heal the bullet wound…but she had enough. The Hashimoto had run unchecked for long enough. She had to make a stand. They couldn’t hunt her mother and enslave her father without consequences.

Kiriko summoned the Kitsune, and Inari themselves poured their power into her. The residents of the complex were inspired to fight back. Shocked, the Hashimoto were forced to retreat, barely making it into the elevator before one of the residents flung a fire axe at them.

Kiriko stumbled back to her apartment, but Asa had seen everything. Her daughter had become not only a young woman, not only a warrior, but someone blessed by the hand of Inari. She was ready. She was a true hero. She gave her blessing for Kiriko to begin her own operation.

Determined to prove herself, Kiriko gathered three of her friends. Ryota, Nobuto and Sakura were just as sick of the Hashimoto as she was. They made their move at the end of the Summer Festival, when the Hashimoto were scheduled to import firearms into Kanezaka through the port. The four were able to sneak in, destroy the cameras, and apprehend the guards. They cracked open the crates, and discovered rifles. Kiriko wanted to throw the guns into the water, but Ryota wanted to send a bigger message with explosives.

Kiriko told them of Sojiro’s ways as a yakuza. A big message could end up harming sailors who needed the port, or Kanezaka itself. They were here to serve the people, not their egos. It would be enough to push the guns into the water and let the salt water destroy thousands of yen. Her friends saw the wisdom in the decision, pushed the guns into the water, and set off the fireworks in celebration.

Together, the four handed together and named themselves the Yokai, after the vengeful spirits of old.

Kiriko’s skins center around Japanese culture and religion. Her Matsuri skin references a Shinto festival of the same name honoring the shrines, culture, or major historical events. Every Japanese town has their own version of Matsuri, with distinctive regional flavors. Her Hinotori skin means “fire-bird” but given its cybernetic nature may refer to the famous Japanese satellite of the same name.

(Taken from facebook group "Deadlock gang: women of Overwatch from a member there)

[bijoumikhawal]

Bite the Hand that Starves You: Chapter Three

Fic as of this chapter contains: discussion of abortion, references to drug use, intersex and trans characters, torture/graphic violence, colonialism and its aftermath, implied sexual violence,

Heads up: this chapter has some of Garak ruminating on his experience with bioessentialism, sex, and gender in a society that I think is pretty fucked up in approach to the topic and not friendly to those who perform gender "incorrectly", and I don't think Garak necessarily has an internal understanding separate from that even if he's uncomfortable with it. In general this fic is complicated because Garak is canonically effeminate and that compounds with the themes here in a new way (+ a lot of people I think would view the "progressive" thing as Garak shedding his effeminacy, which I find insulting from my own perspective as someone effeminate who is a "stereotype").

There is also a pair of scenes where it is ambigious if consent to sex was given or not, but it is not graphic. The first is when Barkan comes into the bathroom with Garak, the second is the scene after Julian and Dr. Ammshah schedule Garak's appointment. There is another with a violent undertone, which begins with "Garak had had an odd nightmare".

Kardasi: Peikirvi - would translate to something like "concubine", specifically refers to an individual that socially presents as male, and was assigned such at birth, but can carry children (and often could impregnate someone else), who is legally bound to someone. Usually this is done with a pre-existing couple who has fertility issues.

Cheoche and cheyeda: could be translated as something like "patron" and "vassal". "Che" in Kardasi refers to charity, which is viewed as a duty to society rather than a choice made of good will. More specifically, a cheoche is a wealthy family/clan who takes on the affairs of a poorer or weaker one (the cheyeda), legally binding the two together for several generations. This can be typified in three ways: the cheyeda being a family who was once great and has become destitute, the family of a beloved artist, or a family of the "service class". For the latter, having a cheoche often provides a stable income, food, housing, and better schooling and training. Some cheyeda even have inheritance rights from their cheoche. However, while the relationship is glorified as going above and beyond ones duty, it is a system rife with abuse. The Tain and Garak families are bound this way.

--

There had been a time, just before his age of emergence, when Garak had stared in the mirror trying to see just what was different from other boys and him. He wasn't the sort who was recognized for his unique position at birth- it had come later, at a milestone medical exam.

He hardly acknowledged the mirror as he exited the shower now, quickly pulling on a robe before the water could chill him.

He'd combed and squeezed the water out of his hair before stepping out- Julian had gotten him a warming tile for his pomade, which he'd set up before stepping in. The scent of warm wax filled the room, along with the essence of herbs purported as beneficial.

It was a frivolous thing. Garak had a pull out stove for making tea that he could warm the tin on just as well. But it did make his routine a little faster.

He dug his fingers into the pale green liquid, hot enough to be just this side of uncomfortable. As he tugged it through his hair, he could already see it resolidifying, leaving his fingers cool again.

Even after the diagnosis, his recategorization had been inconsistent, even private, which was his value. Would he be here at all if he was not recognized for passing between spheres? Women were not well suited to outside work, in the immediate sense and the sense of borders. Garak was not a woman, but he filled the role of one for the sake of biology, as well as the role of a man. His primary root in manhood meant that was how he passed through the world. The secondary root ruled how he had to live once the doors were closed.

It prickled along the back of his neck, the practicality of it all. Would he even know his own body if it wasn't so?

He tried not to think about the whole matter. He always had carried on that way; he had redoubled his efforts after… after his exile. He was quite good at it.

Most of the time. He'd been too good, lately.

He had behaved differently from other boys.

No one who knew commented upon it, precisely, as related. But it was… a trope, in some ways. In general, what one was born as influenced the behavior, if everything was well with the mind. When one behaved differently from other boys, you could assume two things: madness, or two roots. Because of his privacy, the former was often assumed. Until after Romulus, that is...

He'd run a comb through his hair again once he was done, to make sure the pomade was distributed evenly.

He clicked off the warming tile.

And if you need someone- to talk to, to help you, to-

Garak sighed, tied his robe tighter, and opened a comms line on his terminal.

---

Garak had had an odd nightmare, after Barkan had essentially proposed, the weeks between then and the ceremony (he had to inform his household, and the military, of his new addition, after all).

He was in his old bedroom again, down in the basement. That was how he knew it was a dream.

Someone was in the room with him. His limbs, eyelids, blanket, were all so heavy, he could not look to see who, or reach out, but he knew. Who else would slip into bed with him as he slept?

Tains weight shifted on the mattress. For whatever reason- the shift made Garak realize why his limbs felt heavy. They were manacled- securing him to the bed.

"Peikirvi don't get a dowry or dower. But I deserve compensation, Elim. I'm giving up something very important, after all."

It was- an old custom. Between a cheoche and service class cheyeda- other cheyeda, they had no such custom, for the cheoche demand compensation before allowing a marriage, no matter the type. And the service class only had it if they were lucky enough to have a cheoche. If the suitor didn't pay, the cheoche revoked whatever blessings had been given, and kept the... piece of their household.

The chains, in the meantime, prevented elopement.

It had been outlawed as something you could only do to subjugated peoples, decades ago.

---

Julian didn't know what he expected when Garak asked him to come see him. The robe, certainly, was not high on the list.

"Where was that a few months ago?" Julian asked lightly. "Don't tell me you had pajamas that whole time."

Garak stepped back to let him in. "I didn't care to change into them at the time, doctor."

Julian felt the urge to touch him, but kept his hands to himself, remembering the last time he'd done that in this room.

"Is everything alright?"

"Just fine." Garak sat down. “We haven't been talking to each other as friends much lately.”

Julian sat as well, following his lead. “No, we haven't. Are you still struggling with your appetite-”

“No doctor talk.” Garak held up a hand. “I called you here as a friend,” he emphasized, “and that means I don't want to hear a word about my… medical concerns.”

“Alright.” Julian clasped his hands together, for want of a better thing to do with them. “What do you want to talk about, then?”

Garak leaned back. “Nothing in particular.”

Ah. What a load of bullocks. But Julian would play along. “I apologize, but I've been too busy to finish the book you gave me last. Work.”

“Slacking off on our cultural exchanges…” Garak said with distant disapproval, as he looked to his left, lips parted. “What am I to do with you?”

Stay. Julian felt his cheeks warm at the odd thought. It wasn't as though Garak was deathly ill this time. This all would be over and done within a week, most likely. “I don't know, Docent Garak. What will you do with me?”

Garak’s breath caught, and he turned to look at Julian. He closed his mouth. “Remedial discussion should suffice.”

Julian laughed. He'd leaned forwards at some point, and he didn't bother correcting himself. “Alright.”

“Gender relations. These are relevant in every Cardassian work of literature, and in every aspect of Cardassian life overall. What have you observed?”

Julian leaned back. “Everyone is restricted in their movements and behaviors, women a bit more so. Ornamentation is more for women as well, but not entirely, and it's not necessarily seen in a bad light. Men are pushed towards the military, but in a lot of the older settings there's plenty of writers too. Er… men are generally seen as emotional, women as more stoic, able to separate themselves from things…” Julian trailed off. “Don't look at me like that, you put me on the spot and asked me about something rather complicated!”

“The most basic, distilled statement I can give you is this: men and women are distinct, but considered equal, on Cardassia.” Garak says, face impassive.

Julian thinks on it for a moment, and catches the quiet, hidden meaning. Those which are not distinct…

“I see. Interesting.”

Garak gave him a wan smile. “Is it? Are they not distinct to you? Or perhaps not equal?”

“Like I said before: it's complicated. What is a man, afterall? What is a woman? What-” Julian thought carefully. “I might see one of each that look and act almost entirely the same, within minutes of each other. Perhaps of different cultures, different contexts, or perhaps not. They are distinct but the distinction is- personal. Intimate.”

“Intimate.” Garak’s expression grew slightly solemn. “You would use that word, wouldn't you?”

Julian blinked. Clearly he'd missed something. “Is it wrong? When something is a matter of self knowledge- isn't that intimate, perhaps the most intimate something can be?”

A bitter air had entered the room, and it only intensified. The word choice had struck a nerve Julian hadn't realized was there to strike.

“Garak, I really didn't mean to-”

Garak looked at him and Julian immediately fell quiet. It seemed like the wise choice.

“Didn't you?” Garak rose from his chair, bending over Julian, hands gripping the armrests as yet unused. “You stopped yourself for a moment, earlier. You were considering your words. Is carelessness a common trait for a doctor?”

“I had my attention on the subject we were discussing. I apologize-”

“Whatever for? Whatever for , my dear doctor?”

“For not knowing that might upset you.”

“Interesting. That you claim ignorance. That you apologize for it.”

“Garak-”

“I don't think you're ignorant at all in the matter of intimacy.”

Oh, where had that come from?

Julian inhaled. “Look, I don't-”

“Don't what, doctor?!”

They'd ended up on the floor, somehow. Julian gripped Garak’s shoulders. “Garak! Listen to me.” Julian paused, uncertain of what to say, but knowing he had to say something. Garak looked at him, wild eyed.

“I'm here because I care about you. Because I want to support you. I didn't-” Julian's eyes fell to Garak’s robe, disheveled by their arrival to the floor. He pulled the lapels closed, looking back up at Garak. “I didn't come for anything else. I didn't mean anything else, than to- comfort you.”

Garak’s eyes were deeply unnerving. Julian had had a teacher with protuberant blue eyes once- they reminded him of a frog. She knew her eyes were somewhat unnerving, and put them to good use against any student she deemed necessary. The unease now, wasn’t that Garak normally looked odd. He simply looked like he was…

Julian was very careful where he touched Garak now, cupping his elbows to pull him up and back into his chair.

He slumped on the floor next to it. “I don't want anything else.”

He heard the soft rustle of fabric behind him- probably Garak gathering himself to sit properly. He could almost hear Garak thinking. Searching for the admission of guilt. The crack in the rhetoric to poke at till it all fell apart. A weakness to use.

“I don't.” Julian said again, resting his head back against the chair. Nails scratching against upholstery. Restraining the urge to reach out and what? Violence or intimacy- or both?

Garak rested a hand over Julian’s eyes. “You couldn’t get that out of me even if you wanted it.” Garak said quietly.

Julian sighed. They were not talking about sex. “No.” Not without medical intervention and a lot of planning, anyway.

“Why didn’t you say that?” Remind him of it, to be specific.

“Because it doesn’t make me safe, Garak.” Julian got up, shaking away the hand. “I could hurt you anyway. I’m uniquely positioned to hurt you. Surely, you know it doesn't make me safe?”

Garak was gripping the seat of the chair he'd previously sat in, nails digging into the upholstery again. “Of course.”

In the heat of the moment, no. But Julian didn't need to be told- logic didn't always stay steady in the heat of the moment. It had a nasty habit of flying off somewhere and returning just in time for you to feel stupid.

Julian extended a hand, then took it back, unsure of what he'd meant to do with it in the first place. “Of course.” He echoed, quieter.

“Do you ever want to…”

“Not really.” Julian doesn’t say that it doesn’t matter what he wants, he simply can’t. Refusing is easier to understand.

“I do, sometimes.” Garak admits.

Julian almost tells him that he prefers when Garak pulls his leg in ways that he has to carefully consider before realizing he’s lying, but he doesn’t.

---

Dr. Ammshah sat instead of standing, leaving Garak higher up than her. "How are you today, Mr. Garak?"

Her arrival had gone smoothly, though Julian hadn't gotten a chance to thank Sisko or anyone in hospitality or logistics yet. He always preferred to give a two weeks heads up, but, well...

Garak had his smiling mask in place. "Quite well, thank you."

"Glad to hear it. I've already spoken with Dr. Bashir a fair amount about you. Today, if I can, I'd like to do a physical examination, with Dr. Bashir observing, and discuss your care options."

Julian watched the subtleties of their interaction, rapt. He was hardly a stranger to bedside manner, but there was an underlying current to how Dr. Ammshah spoke and handled herself. Not just her body language, which Julian knew carried a second layer of weight in Kardasi, but something else intangible. He couldn't quite tell if it was effective yet.

"Do what you must."

Dr. Ammshah inclined her head, then handed Garak an already prepared gown. "We'll give you some privacy to change, then."

---

Barkan came up behind Garak while he was washing his face. Garak forced himself to continue like normal.

"Elijje. I don't need to tell you we'll soon be withdrawing from Bajor." He curled Garak’s hair around one finger. "The Bajorans know it. They're growing more bold and more and more of them are accepting the words of terrorists."

"I'll be careful."

Barkan tightened his twisting of Garak’s hair. "I know. You always are. But, for my peace of mind… would you stay in our quarters for the next few weeks?"

Garak stopped what he was doing and turned to look at Barkan, pulling his hair out of his grasp. "Pardon? All the time?"

"It's only for a few weeks. I'd have us leave sooner, but I can't leave wrapping up the mining project to Skrain- he has enough to handle with me helping him right now."

Garak couldn't help looking around the room. "You could send me ahead…"

"No. I considered it, but there's too much going on. We've already lost three ships with Cardassians trying to leave."

"Barkan-"

"This isn't a request, Elijje." Barkan grabbed his hand, and Garak only just resisted the urge to twist their positions and break his arm. Instead he was pulled into an embrace. Barkan threaded his hand into Garak’s hair, pushing his cheek hard into Barkan’s chest. "I've already discussed it with Skrain. He agrees with me. There's a voice lock on the door and Odo has flagged the security feed on the hall outside."

Garak took in a heavy breath. He knows. He knows something- probably about the mess with Procal.

This is just a pretext.

Barkan had the gall to laugh. "Ah, look at you shake. It's alright, Elijje. Nothing bad will happen so long as we're both smart about it." He stroked Garak’s hair. "Why don't you come back to bed with me for a bit before I have to work?"

"I dont-"

"Come now, it'll help you get your mind off things."

Barkan had him from behind, pressing his face into the mattress the whole time.

He kissed the fresh bloody bite on Garak’s neck. "Don't forget to take your hypo today. Fulfill your duty to me, Elijje."

---

"Feet flat on the biobed for me, knees up."

Garak’s chest rose and fell with a heavy, silent breath, but he did as he was told. Julian squeezed his forearm before rejoining Dr. Ammshah, who was pushing the gown up.

Garaks' whole body was taught like a strung instrument. Under the gown was grey, grey, grey, then pink under Dr. Ammshah's careful gloves (green), much like Garak’s mouth. She palpated there, pointed something out to Julian here. Julian took note of it all, distracting himself from the who and taking in the what.

She had been right in her guess as to what anatomy Garak had.

Once satisfied, she pulled the gown back down past Garak’s grey knees again, and hit the button on the biobed so Garak was sitting up.

"Everything looks mostly normal so far, but I suspect you're deficient in several vitamins, so I'll have Dr. Bashir test for that."

Garak nodded, mask apparently having fallen during the exam and struggling to get back up again.

"Obviously, you want a termination. In addition to that, I can flush your spermacathe so this won't happen again, though I'll need to do it manually. We can also remove the uterus-"

"No. Thank you, Dr. Ammshah, but I would prefer…" Garak paused. "To remain whole, with all my organs."

Dr. Ammshah nodded, unsurprised. "I feel it important to remind patients of their options, even if they're unpleasant." She looked at Julian, pulling him in, and then back to Garak. "The termination and flush will take about two or three hours. How conscious would you like to be for the latter?"

"I'll have to think on it."

"That's fine. Doctor, do you have any time slots that work with his normal schedule this week?"

"A few." Julian turned to Garak. "3 days from now, at 1900?"

"That will be fine, Dr. Bashir." Garak said, eyes closed to the infirmary lighting.

---

Garak laid in bed, controlling his breathing and meditating until the buzz of the wire responding to the morning's activities was background noise.

He sat up. Barkan knew, and that meant Garak needed out.

His exit was obvious. He'd have to kill Barkan- Ideally, Dukat too, they were the main two who'd seen him and knew his real name. Others could be dealt with more subtly. He needed to send a message to the Order, but he knew it'd say just that. Eliminate Lokar. Go to this sage house. Await further instructions for extraction.

The odds of killing Lokar and Dukat were low, even under normal circumstances. With the lock and watch protocols- unless Dukat made a personal visit, Garak could forget it. The Order would have to arrange something for Dukat later.

Garak touched his cheek. This move had always been risky, because Barkan was high profile and knew his name. By the end of this he'd probably end up with a new face.

That'd have to wait for later consideration. How was he to do this?

He'd check, of course, but if Barkan suspected him, he'd have swept the room. Any obvious disruptions would be gone, and it was possible most, if not all his hiding spots had been found. None of their medicines or bath products were ready for use as a fast acting poison. The lacing from his undergarment might work- and he had his knife, but ugh. Stabbing someone to death was a very involved, and loud process.

Garak tried his comms unit. Signal error, it proclaimed.

"Replicator, red leaf tea, hot."

"That request cannot be filled at this time due to limited resources."

"I'm sure." Garak muttered. His own comms would be easy enough to fix, at least.

---

Julian hadn't expected the first case to be the only one. Kurowaat was rather contagious, after all- there'd been a case of it in his first year at the Academy. In the heart of the Federation, most were vaccinated against it- bit it still ripped through the students, causing headaches, embarrassing laundry, and for the unlucky unvaccinated few, two weeks of missed class thanks to the full effect of the virus.

In Starfleet Medical, the saying was that it came in fives- if one person had it, four more would follow.

Most on Bajor were not vaccinated. And Julian was wondering if that phrase was grossly optimistic.

Dr. Ammshah naturally volunteered to help. She primarily was the Cardassian equivalent to an Ob/Gyn, but even without her specialty being relevant, she was still a doctor. One of the senior ones in her clinic at that. Julian had her checking in on the non-Bajorans they had coming in and helping with admin- scheduling, managing the shift madness, tracking the supplies they had and their use rate.

That still left plenty for Julian, of course. Most of the patients were Bajoran.

The station infirmary was, intentionally, too small to serve all residents. If the shop next door ever went out of business, he was going to immediately request to commandeer the space and start putting in work orders.

For now, the break rooms, private rooms, and quarantine bay were just as packed as the main bay, and Julian had given all medical staff a crash course on how to bunk biobeds as painlessly as possible. The surgical bay and his office remained empty for now.

Currently they had 46 patients with kurowaat, and more coming. Julian was going to have to go through his early patients and send the alert ones who had someone they lived with home with a good supply of diozaine to ride out the last week of the illness. And instructions to hydrate and change sheets often. But it'd be a few more days before he could do that.

He sat down between seeing patients and wondered if the sheer numbers he was calculating could justify using one of the storage bays from the aphasia virus incident last year.

It wasn't really an emergency. The infirmary being too small was just that much of a problem. He had enough supplies, enough staff- he didn't expect any deaths.

[asoiafandotherbooks]

TWOIAF/Fire & Blood: The Pregnancies And Deaths Of Two Queens

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

It has been half a year since Maegor wed his Black Brides. Edwell Celtigar, the King’s Hand, announced that Queen Jeyne was with child. Maegor announced Queen Elinor’s pregnancy shortly afterwards.

Rhaena Targaryen never had an announced pregnancy. Was someone slipping her moon tea or did the incestuous Targaryen genes collide and prevent any pregnancy?

Maegor “showered both women with gifts and honors, and granted new lands and offices to their fathers, brothers, and uncles”.

Queen Jeyne was six months pregnant when she went into labor. She delivered a stillborn child “as monstrous as the one Alys Harroway had birthed , a legless and armless creature possessed of both male and female genital.” Jeyne died shortly afterwards.

Maegor and Herny VIII have several parallels when it comes to their wives:

Katherine of Aragorn/Ceryse Hightower – the first, faithful wife who is set aside

Anne Boleyn/Alys Harroway – executed on baseless charges

Jane Seymour/Jeyne Westerling – the pregnant wife who dies while giving birth

Anne of Cleves/Lord Celtigar’s sister – the “ugly” one the king rejects

Catherine Howard/Tyanna of the Tower – The only real resemblance between the two is their execution

Catherine Parr/Elinor Costayne/Rhaena Targaryen – The survivors after the king’s death

Men blamed the stillbirth on Maegor. They said he was cursed as was a kinslayer who made war against the Faith and the High Septon, defied the gods, committed murder and incest, adultery and rape. “His privy parts were poisoned, his seed full of worms, the gods would never grant him a living son.”

Maegor came to a different conclusion: He had Ser Owen Bush and Ser Maldon Moore to seize Queen Tyanna and deliver her to the dungeons. Tyanna made a full confession: she poisoned Jeyne Westerling and Alys Harroway’s wombs. She promised the same would happen to Elinor’s whelp.

Maegor slew Tyanna himself, “cutting out her heart with Blackfyre and feeding it to his dogs”.

The next month, Elinor delivered a “malformed and stillborn child, an eyeless boy born with rudimentary wings”.

The question remains: Did Tyanna poison the wombs of the three women or did Maegor’s genetics/nature of his conception play a factor in the stillbirths? We know Tyanna “confessed” but that could have been Tyanna goading Maegor into a murderous rage to ensure a quick death. Tyanna, of all people, would know what Maegor is capable of and would want to avoid an “Alys/Viserys” fate.

 I believe Tyanna caused the deaths of Alys Harroway and Visenya Targaryen. I’m not sure if Tyanna factored into Jeyne Westerling’s stillbirth. Jeyne’s child didn’t have any of the typical characteristics of the Targaryen “dragon babies” that pop up throughout the bloodline. I’d say there is a slim chance. I don’t know if Tyanna would be foolish enough to poison Jeyne in the same manner as Alys. Tyanna would have been smart enough to realize Maegor would come to the conclusion that he did and it would have ended badly for her (which it did).

Elinor’s stillbirth was pure Targaryen “dragon baby”.

The bigger question remains…was Maegor infertile?

Maegor was married to Ceryse for 18 years (separated for 5), wed to Alys for 6 years, and wed to Tyanna for 6 years. It is unknown if he took any lovers outside of the marital bed. I know an alleged bastard of Maegor will turn up during the Great Council but his claim is dubious. If Maegor had a bastard, even from a member of the smallfolk, he would have brought him/her to court if only to prove he could sire a child. His inability to sire a child has been hanging over his head for decades - Maegor has blamed Ceryse but until he sired a child, the question of who is infertile remains unknown.

If Maegor isn’t infertile, he suffers from low fertility. He was married for decades – at times to multiple women – and it only resulted in three known pregnancies.

He never sired a child with Ceryse Hightower. We can’t say for certain if Ceryse was barren as she had no other known lovers besides Maegor. Maegor claimed she was barren, but his infertility could have been the issue.

The first wife of Maegor to become pregnant was Alys Harroway. She gave birth to a stillborn, deformed son in the third month of pregnancy. The stillborn baby did not have the characteristics of the stillborn “dragon” babies that Laena, Rhaenyra, and Daenerys will later give birth to. So, either a stillbirth caused by non-magical defects or one induced by Tyanna via poison or magical means. We will never know if Alys would be able to conceive again as she was executed for alleged “infidelity”.  I suppose the alleged infidelity could mean the baby was sired by a man other than Maegor but I think the charges were false.

Maegor was never able to impregnate Tyanna. It’s possible Maegor had the misfortune of marrying a second barren woman, but he could have been at fault.

Maegor’s marriages with his “Black Brides” only lasted for a year or so.

Jeyne Westerling gave birth to a stillborn who had both male and female genitalia. Once again, no “dragon baby” characteristics.

Elinor Costayne gave birth to a stillborn child with “rudimentary” wings so this was a Targaryen “dragon baby”.

Maegor was never able to impregnate Rhaena Targaryen and she had a pair of twins with her first husband.

What caused Maegor’s fertility problems? Was it the nature of his conception, rumored to be magical in origin? Or was it his double-Targaryen genetics? A combination of both? Aenys, Maegor’s brother, had multiple children but its important to note that Aenys’ father may have not been a Targaryen. (Always a good thing to deepen the gene pool).

Up next, the downfall of Maegor the Cruel.