#starker pregnancy

[vampyrial]

A World For Her Alone | Sisyphus

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16

cw (chapter specific): child neglect, very vaguely implied forced prostitution, death, abuse, poisoning, suicide, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, arranged marriage, infidelity

pairing: claude x fem!reader

summary: we take a brief intermission from claude's suffering to examine what the fuck is wrong with reader's family

author's note: me and my husband we're sticking together🎵

Claude lingered around your parents’ manor like a ghost after you died. In the middle of the night, every night, he found his way to your bedroom, standing at the foot of the bed you’d died in, remembering the shape your body formed in the sheets. The room still smelled of your blood and sweat, though the room had been cleaned up by the maids as soon as your body was taken out of the room. Your absence was starker than your presence. After the funeral, Diana expressed that she wanted to go home, heavily implying she would leave if he came with her but Claude was no longer beholden to her wants. He had no reason to care whether she came or went.

He was wielding grief as the knife he held up to cut deeper into himself in hope that if he only suffered enough, his hands would wash clean of your blood. But in the end, he had already decided to live, if only because he could do nothing else. Morbid thoughts plagued him, swirling around his head like unquiet spirits begging him to give in. He thought perhaps he should cause his own ruination and this time, live with it. He thought he should make for certain that both of your houses are set aflame and collapsing on top of the lot of you, to bury and burn your sycophant parents, his helplessly selfish wife and even his own child. He thought that nothing should be spared from complicity. He knew not anymore if he truly believed that it would save you, or if this was what some divine terror was willing him to do even still, but he began to long for punishment. It became catharsis, the thought of being punished.

He roamed through the house you grew up in, searching for any trace of you that survived, as if some inkling of you would help him to save what had already been lost too many times. Even so, it was automatic for him at this point, no longer even really a choice. He had no direction, only frantic need pulling him toward the doomed task. He was trying to get to the dregs of a goblet of wine which never ran dry, he kept drinking until he was sick but never satisfied, never finished.

Your parents’ manor was an eerie place, he’d always thought. Wind blew in from an opened window in the hall and the house seemed to breathe, and its hollow bones creaked softly. Despite her gentle ultimatum, Diana could not actually follow up on it, she must have known that but she believed better of him at the time and thought that everywhere she went, he would follow her like a lovestruck teenager again. There were things to be done at manor that she could not neglect as its lady even if he chose to neglect his own duties. She had come into her own as a marchioness, no longer the shy and unassuming lady that lay in bed sick day in and day out. She would not leave the territory without management though he knew she desperately wanted him to come back home. She seemed dazed to return home without her husband for that purpose, for the lament of a sister she had infinitely more right to grieve so egregiously. Even after all those years, the silly girl was only just beginning to grow aware of the disparity of marriage.

Somehow he felt it was hard for her to reconcile that she wasn’t a precious young lady anymore. Even as he was mired in a pool of half catatonic grief, she dared ask him to leave with her because she truly expected he would do so if she did. Had she not grown out of the habit of expecting to be near worshiped no matter what that her parents instilled her? He remembered how she was after your funeral, when he was sitting in the dark of a guest room. She had come to him, tried to hold him, to kiss him; believing all this would be a comfort and not a further indignity. She’d had arrogance enough to look hurt as he pulled her from him and recoiled from her touch. She must have still believed she was the cure to all ills because she was once more in a house where she was always treated as though she truly were.

He found his way to the library where you’d spent much of your life, if Felix’s word was truth. He brushed his fingers along the spines of the books, looking for the one that he left his missive in, the one Diana read and did not want understand. He searched through the categories of books that contained subjects you three would have studied together as he could not remember which particular book it was, but even after pulling all the books and flipping through the pages, he couldn't find the letter. He wondered if you had ever even set eyes on it once before Diana got to. Had it been your catalyst to run away? Had you read the note and understood that the effort of trying to be happy at his side was a fool’s errand? Was he again the cause of your downfall?

As he gave himself to thought of you, he continued looking through your family’s collection of books. It was all fairly standard and even a bit utilitarian, lacking any of the fanciful novels so beloved by many young nobles. He assumed if there were any, they’d be in Diana’s room because they’d be bought for and read by her alone. But there was something that struck him as he roamed around the shelves, his eyes scanning aimlessly for a book that looked as if it had been perhaps been misshelved. It was subtly tucked into the highest shelf but it still stood out to him eventually among droll guides, needlework books and encyclopedias emblazon with gold lettering. It was hastily bound looking more like a journal and it was worn, unlike the rich and well maintained leather of the other books and it was small, leaving a wide gap between the top of the shelf and the top of the book. Its spine did not read a title.

When he pulled the book, he understood what it was. Its title read “The Princess and The Knight,” signifying it was some common, tawdry romance novella. Still, he began to read it, the absurdity of its place in a house so heavy and serious intriguing him. Could this book have belonged to you? Could it have been an escape for you who was locked firmly out of girlhood when you were only just betrothed? When he’d read the title, his mind flashed with the memory of your face as Felix’s body fell into the dirt in front of you. He remembered how fiercely Felix had protected you even in this life. The rage and grief in his voice when he came for retribution. Though he knew you were ever dutiful and if there was love between you and Felix, it was never more than courtly, maybe you had seen this book and it had reminded you of some place where it could be more.

The story revolved around the love affair of a princess from a bloodline with an affinity for magic fleeing her country at wartime and being assigned a knight from the neighboring kingdom she sought refuge in. The two began a passionate and sanguine love affair in secret, all while living under of the tension of war and the threat of both of them losing everything to their love. But when the war was won, thanks in part to the wits of the two characters, and peace spread over the kingdom, she and her knight were able to be wed and live happily ever after. He had been searching for you in the pages, interpreting the knight and the princess, looking for traces of a love you might have had once. He had been looking for you so closely in every word that he hadn’t realized the grander scale of things until the end; when he flipped over the last page to read the epilogue, on the blank side of the page he saw a sketch. 

The drawing was finely, intricately done in ink and resembled…Diana. The owner of this book had drawn Diana so vividly, yet there were a few differences in the likenesses of the two. This woman had long spools of curly hair spilling over her shoulders and a mole near her gently smiling lips. She was older than Diana must have been when the book was written. She looked like the heroine that had been described in the novel. For some reason, he found himself fixated not in awe or admiration but in mind numbing shock. He could feel the love that went into each stroke of the pen and a knot formed in his stomach the longer he stared. It was uncanny in a house like this, to find anything that should mark vulnerability or simple folly. He recalled an occasion where your father had gifted her a portrait he’d made of her and their daughter. Though two different mediums, the style looked so similar. From what Claude saw, it seemed that your father seldom made art of anyone but Diana. Your father surely had not been so passionate about a throwaway romance that he had ignored his bias and poured so much love into an image of the heroine.

The only one who could be so brazen as to have a romance novel among his books wherein which they lovingly drew an almost intimate image of a woman, worn with the spine slightly bent from being handled so many times— not even properly hidden away, would be your father. Your father who paraded his illegitimate child, born from a mistress. The revelation gave him pause. What did Claude truly know about Diana? He couldn’t remember having ever asked her if she’d known her mother because she so resolutely accepted the countess as her only mother. But this woman sketched onto the page of a well loved romance, was this her mother? She looked as if she could be. Portraits of Diana hung in exposed parts of the house, he did not seem to care that the custom of having an illegitimate child was to have them separate from one’s “official” family, to not love a child born of one’s own lust so openly. Even if one had a particular love of their mistress and child, he would simply put them up in a nice mansion close enough for him to come and go but your father had your mother raising his illegitimate child. He celebrated her birthdays lavishly and even allowed her to go to the academy. He absolutely refused to hide her, to show shame in her. So why was this woman Claude presumed to be Diana’s mother who was clearly beloved by him even now, shut up in the back of a romance novella?

A thought occurred to him then, that perhaps the otherworldly force pulling him into Diana, entangling him in her was not otherworldly at all. Perhaps it had not originated in him alone as some primordial curse formed around him before there even was a him. He thought of just how besotted he was with Diana the first time he met her in each life, how the greater part of him felt foreign. He thought of your mother’s unusually devoted love for a child that wasn’t her’s, a product of her husband’s disloyalty. Something inside him thought that the answer lay at Diana’s feet. In her very blood, he was convinced, was the answer. 

Such a tenderly written romance, signed with a carefully drawn illustration of the woman who could be Diana’s mother. The part of “The Princess and The Knight” which struck him so was the bit about the princess possessing capacity for magic. It was not mentioned much nor utilized greatly in the plot but it made an impression. Magic users had decreased over the years, their powers waning until they were unheard of entirely. To anyone else who read the novella, it must have given the story to a bit of fantasy but to Claude, it was almost uncanny. He could not take it for an unassuming romance. To him, the story hid some truth under its veneer, for it was no coincidence that the princess resembled Diana so and that it ended up under the same roof as her, worn with years of eager hands flipping back over the pages. The princess’ power was never described in detail but if she were based on a real woman, then perhaps she had something to do with his situation.

He might’ve gone to Diana right then for answers but he feared his body might be taken over again at any time. He did not want to see her, did not want to feel the familiar paralysis of affection reaching up through his body. He did not want to see himself bed her again while the memory stood frozen in his eyes. Each time he saw her after he’d been set free, he’d worried that it would happen again. That his body would betray his mind and he’d never find anything of substance to end the cycle of misery the two of you shared. And he was committed to the task of trying, even if he could never succeed. He was ready to succumb to the greater sense of careworn madness he found in you.

He decided to explore the unattended corners of your home further, thinking there would be— must be more. If ever Diana’s mother had lived here, someone left a trace that he intended to find. He might’ve asked your father directly but as much as he was a lickspittle, something told him that your father would be afflicted by the same paralysis of mind that he had when he belonged to Diana. Unable to share the love he held for her but unable to hide it either, culminating in a pathetic sort of half-baked defensiveness. He wasn’t likely to get anything out of that, even you hadn’t been able to get anything out of him when he was like that. Worse still, he might try to cover up all that he kept that ever indicated Diana’s mother had lived there once, that she had a name and a face. And then what?

No, it was better this way. Better to find it all before he got the chance to hide any of it.

Your parents were still in the house, seemingly without intention of asking him when he was going to leave but there was still a bit of anxiety in the air when they entered the room. He could tell that they very much wished for him to return to their daughter and make her happy again as she was destined to be. It was awkward that their son-in-law had a longer bereavement than your sister did. But still being the cowardly sycophants they were, they could not ask him to leave for her sake—only “encourage” him by tossing out little updates on Diana. “Diana and our grandchild miss you very much,” “Diana takes ill so easily when she works so hard, we should hope you’ll be well enough to go back to her soon,” “Diana sends her love and wants you to know she’s there for your sake.”

Claude wouldn’t care if Diana’s life hung by a thread and he was all that could spare her, frankly and he brushed off all responsibility in favor of giving himself to his task. It was shameless, he knew, but he’d given up everything inside of the barren, hollow shell of his self to save you. It was a task that had already and would yet again supersede death, birth and the enveloping void he fell backward into each time his life was ended. He waited until they inevitably visited Diana, likely to calm her worries with lukewarm supplications about his grief, to go searching in the other parts of the house uninhibited. For, even if the servants were to tell their lord and lady, he’d already have looked through every corner he intended before they’d have a chance to move things around to better hide them.

He started with Diana’s old room. When he walked in, he was surprised to find it was left exactly as childish as it had been when she was only a young miss. Just the scent of the air turned his stomach, heavy and cloying with a pungent smell of medicine that was still sitting on her night stand in a small white bottle. He frowned as something fell clumsily into place. It hit him like the stray sour note of a violin. He recognized the bottle. Where did he last see this bottle?

For how preoccupied he was with the revelation taking slow form, he did not realize that Felix had entered the room until he heard the distinctive sound of a sword unsheathed. He did not turn.

“Felix.”

“Lord Claude,” Felix acknowledged, his voice struggling to keep its softness. “I might’ve known you’d be here. You truly cannot help yourself, it’s like a sickness.”

“Yes, it is very much like that,” Claude agreed easily. “But I’m not here for what you imagine I am.”

“I’m not so sure it matters, my lord.” Felix’s voice was flat.

“Nor am I. But I need you to let me live just as long as it takes for me to make sense of this.”

Felix went quiet for a moment but nothing about the situation made Claude think it was because the knight was going to hesitate. On the contrary, he was sure that his sword would swing just as neatly. “Do you know where I found my lady chained up, my lord? There are places, you know, that they bring women who had no other place to turn. You must know. You were at her side every night when we brought her back, you saw what toll it took. You saw what had been done.” Felix took a shallow breath. “You’re asking me to spare you so that you can make sense of whatever it is your farce of a marriage is built on? When my lady was given no such pardon? I know you’re the head of your house now, honored knight of the crown and you must think yourself above your treatment of others but I assure you, this will be the last time you ever assume so.”

Claude held still, his voice firm even as fear raged through his body. It was not fear for his life or of Felix’s wrath, it was the fear of failing, yet again, to make any movement in saving you. “I know how you think of me, Felix. I know that I have failed my wife. I know that I deserve to die here and now but even so, I can’t.”

“That is no problem, I’ll do it for you.”

Claude smiled joylessly to himself at the devout knight’s words. How could you have been judged so harshly in that life for wanting to run away with him when he so clearly had a loyalty akin to love for you? “You don’t understand. You cannot possibly. But answer me this, do you know who Diana’s mother is?”

The question puzzled Felix but he stood resolutely, ready at any moment to fell Claude’s head. “Everyone else in this household has care for Lady Diana. My duty was to serve my lady, I was the only one and I did not ever lapse. You’re asking the wrong person.”

“Felix, I do not ask for my wife’s sake. I know how this will sound but I’m trying to find out just what exactly it is that Diana holds over me and everyone else. I’m trying to figure out what exactly she is. You have seen it, haven’t you? The disparity between how people treat my wife and how they treat your lady. Do you think it natural to love a daughter born from an affair more than one’s own?”

He heard Felix laugh bitterly. “You believe her to be a succubus? Is that your excuse?”

“No. I believe her to be something worse.” Claude laughed as well, though his was more hysterical than anything. “She rules everything, Felix. Even in death. No, especially so in death. I have lived this life many times. I have died and returned back to the day that I first met her at the tea party. And when I do, I am taken over by her. It feels like love at first, it really does. But then intrusion. And then a curse. It is a cycle of death and resurrection, for myself and for the lady.”

Felix was silent and Claude continued on. “In one such life, she ran away with you, you know. It was raining the night we found you two. You were holed up in some abandoned cottage out there in the countryside, the one with the patches of white clover in the yard and a missing shingle on the roof.”

“What are you saying?” Felix’s voice wavered with near disbelief at the picture he painted but he held firm.

“My knights killed you where you stood and took the lady back to my manor. Your betrothed visited her. She had asked to speak to the woman who had been responsible for your death. She told me you two had planned to get married once the lady and I were finally married and settled in. She could not even mourn you properly because you were compelled to run away with the lady and killed.”

It is clear that Felix still thought Claude had lost his mind but what shocked him was the truth seeded into his madness. How could he have known the intimate arrangements of their betrothal and marriage when even their families had not known the cause for delay? This was not knowledge he could send an errand boy to fetch him nor an illusion he couldn’t hope to keep up, this was lived. It was memory.

“What does that have to do with Diana?” Diana was more likely a seductress than a sorceress in Felix’s opinion. Such a thing as a time loop, how could a girl so weak and childish create something like it?

Claude turned slightly, slowly toward him. “I don’t know yet myself. That is what I seek to find out. So that I can perhaps end it, for the lady at least. I don’t need anything Felix, not Diana, not my child, not my house. All I need and want is for the lady to stop suffering. I only beg you not to hinder me. When the time comes, I swear I will die on my own.”

Felix had no idea what to make of it all. Much of what Claude said seemed stilted, frantic and half thought. Yet he could not help but feel there was a certain sincerity to be had even in the worthlessness of Claude’s promise. And in any case, he was not entirely unfamiliar with the concept that Claude explained but all that it implied, he was not ready to believe. He sheathed his sword again finally and Claude turned to face him with the medicine bottle in hand. “Have you any idea why this would be in Diana’s room? It’s medicine that the lady took before.”

Felix’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “It’s used to treat severe infection. It’s not supposed to be used by just anyone who gets ill. Lady Diana should not have needed that medicine, it would take effect like poison if not administered to someone battling a harsh infection. The doctor sent one of the servants to fetch it in town.”

“Yes, but this bottle is dusty, it’s mostly emptied out and the liquid inside it has congealed. It’s been sitting here for years. The medicine inside is aromatic. It has a distinct smell, doesn’t it? The lady’s room still reeks of it even with the windows opened up. Every time I went into Diana’s room when we were young, I smelled it, I tasted it. That means she was not only taking medicine she did not need but taking it regularly.” Claude said aloud, more to himself than to Felix who had bristled at the way he implied he and Diana were. “Was she…ever even sick?”

“Of course she was. Perhaps madame gave her the wrong medicine. She would not have poisoned herself, far be it from me to defend her but she did not desire to be sick. She seemed to envy the lady for her health, as she saw it.”

“…it was the lady’s mother who administered this medicine?” Claude questioned as new pieces fell together in his mind.

“I only know that the madame came to Lady Diana before bed to give her medicine. I do not know that it was that medicine, I did not see it.” Felix paused. “What is the significance, my lord?” He asked, annoyance creeping into his tone at the extensive talk of Diana.

“I intend to find out.”

He had wished to creep into the madame’s bedroom quickly and easily but the door was locked so they’d needed to fetch the key. Claude was shocked at the amount of sway he had over the servants of a house he was not a part of for the head maid simply handed over the key when he asked for it, albeit hesitantly as though she thought she might be scolded for doing so. When he took in the room, it was tidy and rather plain by aristocracy standards. The room seemed to have a chill about it, there was a draft somewhere that made it feel colder than the other rooms.

He began to pick carefully through her things, looking in every corner of the room for anything hidden. It was all mundane, droll and typical until he reached the last drawer of a dresser that was locked. Sure enough, nine bottles of unopened medicine neatly lined into rows of three. When he tried to pull the drawer out all the way and see what more he could find, it was caught on something that had been pressed against the top. Claude reached in to feel for it and pulled down what looked to be a simple leather bound, worn and yellowing journal.

Immediately he began to read. He was a bit startled at himself when he realized that he was eager to read the contents of his mother-in-law’s mind. He wanted to know how she saw you. How she justified treating you the way she did to uplift a child that was not her’s. A pitiful part of him just wanted there to be reason. He wanted cause for the rift in the relationship. He needed to believe there was a because to your suffering.

But what he read was not as he suspected. In neat, small lettering on the first page, it chronicled her life back to when she had been perhaps 19 years old but it was dated some ten years later. A reflection on her younger self written seemingly less as a journal and more a memoir.

“The princess had always been so gracious a mistress that even her tasks sounded like gifts.

When it was her time to return to her duties in her own kingdom, she resigned to it with great grace. However, she understood that the opposite would be true of her beloved knight. This fragile man only smiled in her company, protected her with wild fervor and once told her that he felt divinely guided to her. That to him, she was the symbol of god’s forgiveness and in serving her, loving her, he saw his life’s purpose. Oh, the princess lamented to me how dark a life her knight had lived, how the blood he shed as a knight haunted him with guilt. How his father had been of a violent sort in his efforts to transform his only living child into a knight of some worth to bring more prestige to their house and in his efforts to vent his own turmoil over his wife taking up with men of far more money, status and legacy than he. Her knight resembled his mother and so became the target of the ire he could not give his wife for the great protection being a mistress to such men afforded her. His mother knew what his father did, she did not care so long as it were not her. My heart came to soften for him too, the more she told me.

He had been a quiet man, shy and quite unknowingly sweet for his reputation as a ruthlessly skilled knight. He opened up to my princess like a flower toward the sun. He loved her so madly that she knew even though it was inevitable, he never intended to be where he could not protect her and stand at her side. The princess feared that their duties as princess and heir to a county respectively would give way to the knight’s devotion. She feared he’d kill himself trying to reunite with her or simply deteriorate under the burden of his own isolation but her own life was dedicated to more than just one person. It was her nation, her home of people waiting to see her return that she could not abandon. So in her stead, she asked me to stay in the kingdom and marry him. To give him a countess and to keep watch of him for anything he might do to interfere in both their duties.

It was a great honor she had given me entrusting someone so precious to me and given me a title higher than that I had been born with, I still feel that way now but I was foolish then and I did not understand the nature of what I was being asked to do. Nor would I until after it was already done.

You see (and it does, still pain me to even write such a silly thing), I did, at the time believe that I would become close to my husband. I viewed it as a matter of course, for I was far from a home I could never return to and he had no one. We were, for each other, the last traces of the princess. Though I could never think to hope for the kind of love that he gave to the princess, I believed that commonality could be nurtured into love or kinship. I wished for someone to turn to as my heart was sinking faster than a stone the longer I spent from my home. I believed it would happen. I believed he would become someone to lean on.

Though the first months of our marriage were cold, I managed to coax him into trying to have children as was our duty. I saw this as progress both in the way of our relationship as well as keeping him from the princess. I viewed even our coldness then as a sign of something beginning. It was only once, afterward, I think he worked very hard so that I would not ask him to do it again. But even so, I found that I was with child soon. I was a stupid girl then, I believed a child was what we needed to grow closer. I brought this news to him with a smile, I must have looked like an idiot.

My husband’s expression, I can never forget it. He was horrified at this revelation. He looked at me as though I’d announced a death. He looked at me as though I had wounded him. Then his beautiful eyes sparkled with unshed tears and his expression reverted to a weak, helpless smile as he said all the right things in his wavering voice.

It was then that I realized he would never love me. He was horrified at having a child with me, it was sheer terror and dread on his face when I told him. Perhaps he thought that I would not become pregnant at all, he would have preferred it that way. I hadn’t the relationship with him to truly comfort him, to know intimately what he feared about my child. I was useless in that way.

Through the following months, my apprehension was near unbearable. I kept feeling my stomach sink in dread, I kept waking up thinking that I would be home. I kept thinking that I had done something irreparable but I could think of nothing which was actually within my control. Therefore, when I finally gave birth, my relief that it was done with was greater than my joy. But that was alright with me because I had intended to deal with things in my own way."

From there, she went on to describe her rigid attention to being a diligent countess for a few droll pages. But at last, Claude came to another thing of significance. Your father had been summoned to court for political matters regarding the civil unrest which had not been quelled with the end of the war. Your mother could not follow him and leave a newborn alone so she had no choice but to simply trust in your father. She would come to regret that.

"My princess appeared like a bolt out of the blue months later. She was dressed as a peasant and had a somewhat bashful smile on her lips. Although I had missed her, all that I could think in seeing her was, "She should not be here."

But we brought her to the study so that presumably, she would tell us why she had returned when she had surely sworn that she could not. She took off her cloak and then I understood without her needing to tell me. I saw a little bump on her otherwise thin body and I was overcome. When my husband had returned to court, he had not been officially permitted to see my princess but they had met anyway and she was now with child. She had waited until she was just about to start beginning to show in order to take leave from court on the pretense of recovering from illness at her villa in the countryside.

I had been given the task of minding him but I had clearly failed. I should have gone with him no matter what. I should have taken the chance and left my child so that I could have prevented this. But my princess looked at me as faultless and took my hands in hers to assure me that she regretted nothing. She comforted my husband who apparently also knew nothing about this pregnancy until then. She knew his fears like the back of her hand, she knew exactly how to soothe them as I hadn't. He did not even have to speak. She simply knew.

Until then, I had not known that my husband dreaded having children for fear they would be cursed and afflicted with the same moral decay that his own parents had; and because he feared that having a child would bring the same thing out of him. Even if I had known, the princess was the perfect one to comfort him. She asked him if he believed a child born of her could be wicked and of course, he said no. She spun such sugary images of their child together for him with her eyes shining with joy. She told him that their child was special, that she did not fear him becoming a parent like his own because their child would change everything about being a father for him. It surely helped that my princess was glowing as she said such things, that the excitement radiating off of her grew stronger with each passing moment. He could not deny her, could not bring himself to contradict her words because he would always believe in her even if he did not believe in himself.

It went unsaid that the princess would be entrusting the child to the both of us. I had much apprehension about taking care of two babies rather than one and the secrets to be kept piling up above me but I could not complain, it had been my job for years to make everything work. I could not stop then when my princess needed me most. In any case, her presence in the manor brought life to a place that had become so eerie to me. She was the only flame in the dark and we were huddled around her, trying to preserve an ounce of warmth within ourselves. She was joyful through her pregnancy, she could not stop talking about the baby she was to have. The more she chattered, the more excited I became too as though I had any right to be. This was true of my husband too, who tentatively felt the kicks of his child and smiled, genuinely smiled as the princess did. I could see that he loved that child.

She slept in the master bedroom with him, after he left each day, I went in to help her get ready for the day. It was though I was still her maid and I suppose I wanted to be, would rather be that than a wife. But I could not bring myself to complain. I was not unlike my husband, I viewed my duties to the princess as somewhat sacred. I was as honored as I was anxious to raise the child.

On the day Diana was born, my husband was at my princess' side the entire time, as though he could protect her as her knight again. I could only marvel at him. When I had given birth, he stood at the foot of the bed stiffly and asked me what I intended to name our daughter, if I was alright and then told me that if I needed anything to have the butler prepare it at once. After Diana was born, my princess was still beautiful, perhaps even more so in her vulnerability. She held the most beautiful baby I had ever seen, close to her chest as my husband looked down at the both of them with sheer joy. It was as though all the happiness in the world existed between those three. My Diana had been born out of love and so it was easy to love her.

I left my own daughter to the maids in favor of caring for Diana when the princess rested. Her little ruby eyes and her head of soft blonde hair captivated me. Each coo or cry had my focus in a fraction of a second.

I had not yet considered the greater implications of her birth until my princess brought it to me. Diana had been born with an inordinate affinity for magic. The princess, as a member of the royal family had the capacity of a mage, it was kept secret through the death of magic that through her bloodline were those capable of miracles. I only knew after years of my proximity to the princess. This child, born in the time of civil unrest, when the queen had not yet been blessed with a child and the civil war had still bitterly divided the houses, was capable of being seen as a potential figurehead that could be used as a pawn in a new round of rebellion.

It was for me and my husband to put her above all things. Above even our own child. That, to me, went without saying for I did love Diana as my own daughter. But the princess knew that anything could happen and she used all of the strength of her magic to cast a spell over her that would be held with Diana's own great magic. My princess nearly expended all her energy to do so. Magic, she had once told me, was seen as a weak form of power because it relied so greatly upon emotion. It was the transformation of want into will. I knew not the details of the spell which bound my mistress' daughter. All my princess said was that her precious Diana would live happily, that for all the odds against her, she still had odds in her favor."

Claude felt numb as he turned the pages. He was in shock, suddenly the environment of the room felt too harsh and stimulating but he was glued to the journal. He could not dare stop reading it no matter what truths arose. So he flipped the page and read every single entry even as his hands trembled.

From then on, it was Diana, Diana, Diana. With each entry, she recorded a measurement which he assumed was the amount of medicine administered and her symptoms. She fretted over whether it was right to give her more or to give her less. She wrote about denying Diana's requests to go outside, to go to the theatre, to do much of anything besides stay in bed. It chilled him to the bone but more than that, perplexed him. He was staring at a page where your mother had seemed to write sloppily, hurried and anxious when he heard a voice.

"Lord Claude?" It was your mother, standing in the doorway.

He looked slowly up at her, at a loss for words and unable to reconcile the cold mother she was to you with her joy at being Diana's proxy mother. Unable, still, to understand why she was poisoning the daughter she loved so much.

"My lord, you should not be in here," she said softly but in her blank expression, it was apparent that she knew what he was there for. "It will look strange to others, for you to do something like this."

"You poisoned Diana," He was keenly aware of how delicately she was trying to dance around this subject but he was unwilling to indulge her.

Your mother did not even blink. "You must understand me, Lord Claude. Please understand."

"What is there to understand? You neglect your own daughter and fawn over your husband's illegitimate daughter only to poison her."

Your mother shook her head slowly as if she could not believe what he was implying. "I love that girl," she said, moving deeper into the room and shutting the door behind her. "Diana is my little princess. She is my only daughter."

A rush of rage ran up his body, carrying an unbearable desire to hurt her. "She's not your daughter at all. She's the daughter of a woman far more beloved than you."

But your mother could only smile helplessly. "Yes, but even so, she is my daughter in heart. You must trust me when I say that Diana was hopeless before."

"Hopeless?" His brow furrowed and a cold feeling creeped up his back, extinguishing his fury and replacing it with a kind of fear for the woman in front of him. "She wasn't hopeless, she was able to wed me, to live happily." He said it not as a defense of her but as an accusation.

"That poor girl. In the first place, she already had a weak constitution, because her magic was stronger than her body but it was the perfect excuse to keep inside and away from the eyes of those who would want to hurt her. But it was my eldest daughter who kept planting false hope in her. She even sent Diana before my husband to beg him to let her go to the academy because she knew very well he could not say no to her." There was venom in her voice, a sneer on her face. Claude rose to stand slowly, not knowing what he was going to do.

"He cannot say no to Diana because he loves her so, no, he loves her mother so," she sighed. "All the other one did was cause troubles. Diana had already given up but she roused such hope in the girl, false hope, cruel hope. If she had not been able to marry you...I do not know how we would have protected her. If my daughter was still alive, everything would be ruined. It was you who saved her, my lord. That is why I beg of you, don't judge me. You know that Diana is special. You must know."

"I did not want to save her, she did not need to be saved."

She remained with that pitiful smile on her face. "My husband is weak to her. He will...he will never forgive what I've done to our- his little princess. He won't understand. He will think that I have killed my princess. You know, he almost sees them as one in the same." She reached onto her desk, picking up a letter opener. "Diana will be hurt if she knows. I ask that you let the girl live her life believing as I told her. She deserves that much. I let her believe what I did because it was in her best interest. Please take care of her."

Before he could react, your mother plunged the sharp end of the letter opener into her throat.

Next

tags: @kage-tobiuo@kreishin @rosephantomhive@yeahdrarry@splaterparty0-0 @dear-dairiesss @qluvrv @hafsuhhh @eissaaaa @ayolk @doan-19 @fourcefulcupid@ariachaos@cerisearan@irisspade@yaesflorist@jcrml@xiaosprettygf@yevenly@amaris08atoshi012022 @obsessed-with-a-fictional-man @softbummiee@cassanderasblog @waka-babe @bananatwirl@s1mp69 @mitsuyamistress @hottiewifeyyyy @reiko69 @syyyy4ever @pinkpastel-l @dododododooosworld @gwyneveire @mvoonxlightv @noisyenthusiastface @coldpeachkitten @brightykitten @worstliving

[babybatscreationsv2]

Okay I have another dirty starker thing

But its a very young/naive Peter and breeding/pregnancy kink

Nff

...

Peter's hanging out with Tony when he complains about how terrible it is that boys can't get pregnant because he really wants a baby

And Tony tells him that it's possible it just takes a lot more effort. He asks if Peter wants his help since he's so knowledgeable about baby making and Peter is excited but shy to find out

So Tony gets the boy on his knees, nervously touching his cock and he's so blushy and innocent, but he eagerly swallows Tony's cum as it fills up his mouth

But obviously that's not enough to make a baby, they have to do it again, and this time Peter has to get it down his throat so it can go deeper and literally what is hotter than watching a boy cry as he repeatedly gags himself on dick

He's so relieved when Tony cums, but that's not enough to make a baby. Obviously you have to get some in the other hole, too right?

So Tony bends him over and fucks him and Peter's whimpering because it hurts but he's begging him for more because he wants it so bad and finally Tony cums deep inside him

And Peter's so hard and he tries to touch himself, but Tony stops him

And that's the catch. Peter can't cum or else all of the cum inside his body will escape. So if he cums they'll have to start all over

And of course when Tony's breeding him the second time to make sure it took, he drags it out, making sure it feels as good as possible, until Peter is forced to cum

Uh oh, looks like we have to start all over

[madeforstarker]

Hi, made! What're your favorite tropes to write for Starker? 🥰🥰🥰

Hello! Sorry if it took me so long to reply~ 🎀

My top three favorite tropes would definitely be:

♡ Daddy Kink (with a side of DD/LB)

♡ Dom/Sub Dynamics or Undertones

♡ Omegaverse or A/B/O Dynamics

Honorable mentions would definitely be: Oblivious Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Soulmates, Pregnancy, Resurrection, College or Highschool AU.

Thank you for this ask! 🩷

[ursafootprints]

I’m really feeling the range of emotions with the upcoming conclusion of YNYD: anticipation on seeing the next phase of Tony and Peter’s relationship, sadness that it’s the closing of one of the best introspective fics, and more. Overall, it has been such a fulfilling year and a half! Can I ask what excites you as an author in how you want to explore Tony and Peter’s relationship — whether in YNYD or another work?

This is such a sweet ask, thank you so much! I've been in a writing rut recently (no worries, I will come out of it, I go through stages haha) and this really made me smile. 💖💖💖

This might be more broad than you were looking for, but I feel one of the themes I come back to over and over again with Starker in general is that idea of navigating the shift in dynamics that comes with redefining the relationship from mentor-mentee (or other unbalanced dynamics in AUs) to potential love interests/sexual partners. Tony is older, more experienced, and has more resources than Peter-- how well do they navigate that in the particular context of XYZ set-up/story? Where and how often does Tony fall into paternalism instead of treating Peter as an equal (potential) partner, and how does he balance that against his attraction? (What kind of contexts are there where that could be valid?)

What does Peter do to try and signal to Tony that he's Grown Up Enough on his side? What things would Tony actually see/acknowledge as effective signals? When does Peter slip up and show his age? How actively do they talk about it, how aware are they of the potential pitfalls, and where will they have conflicts anyway? Which things can they smooth over and which things are bigger sticking points? (External and internal-- obviously one of my very favorite things is making Tony really grapple with that change in perspective towards Peter, and that's what shows up most often out of these in my stuff since it fits in the scope of shorter works as well as longer ones!)

I think that's part of why I'm so drawn toward dubcon scenarios with these two in particular, because adding in sex pollen/bad guys made them do it/identity porn/etc. means that the process is ushered in by a more abrupt paradigm shift that they have to scramble to cope with and that heightens the intensity of that journey, even if the journey itself is a slow burn like YNYD instead of a faster process like Naturally.

And I love that there's so many different angles to look at these questions through, depending on canonpoint, Peter's age, AU-type, etc.! It's something I never really get tired of turning around in my mind and why my other potential (potential!!) longer-term projects-- the omegaverse child bride AU and the omegaverse teenage pregnancy AU-- are ones that examine those questions just as closely as YNYD, just through different lenses.

[whimsicaldragonette]

Blog Blitz: The Love Remedy by Elizabeth Everett

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Publication Date: March 19, 2024

Welcome to The Love Remedy book blitz with Berkley Publishing Group. (This blog blitz post is also posted on my Wordpressbook blog Whimsical Dragonette.)

Synopsis:

When a Victorian apothecary hires a stoic private investigator to protect her business, they learn there’s only one way to treat true love—with a happily ever after. When Lucinda Peterson’s recently perfected formula for a salve to treat croup goes missing, she’s certain it’s only the latest in a line of misfortunes at the hands of a rival apothecary. Outraged and fearing financial ruin, Lucy turns to private investigator Jonathan Thorne for help. She just didn’t expect her champion to be so . . . grumpy? A single father and an agent at Tierney & Co., Thorne accepts missions for a wide variety of employers—from the British government to wronged wives. None have intrigued him so much as the spirited Miss Peterson. As the two work side by side to unmask her scientific saboteur, Lucy slips ever so sweetly under Thorne’s battered armor, tempting him to abandon old promises. With no shortage of suspects—from a hostile political group to an erstwhile suitor—Thorne’s investigation becomes a threat to all that Lucy holds dear. As the truth unravels around them the cure to their problems is they must face the future together.

Author Bio

Elizabeth Everett lives in upstate New York with her family. She likes going for long walks or (very) short runs to nearby sites that figure prominently in the history of civil rights and women's suffrage. Her series is inspired by her admiration for rule breakers and her belief in the power of love to change the world.

Photo credit: Asa Shutts; from Elizabeth Everett's website.

My Rating: ★★★★★

*My Review and Non-Exclusive Excerpt below the cut.

My Review:

This is an engaging story about two people who are each carrying heavy burdens learning to let each other in. There are fun cameos from the women scientists books if you recognize them, but you can also read it without reading the other series.

I really liked all the characters. They were complex and felt very real. I loved Sadie and her gleeful recounting of all the facts she learned at her science school. Lucy was strong and determined but also bent to the point of breaking under the weight of her responsibilities. Thorne was closed off and rigid and desperately in need of someone breaking him out of his self-imposed shell.

The romance wasn't swoony but was more subtle, a gradual and reluctant giving in to a partnership of mutual appreciation and aide. I really liked that. I prefer a quiet partnership to a grand passionate romance anyway.

What I appreciate most about this story though, is how fiercely feminist it is. Lucy is determined to continue running the apothecary and providing real cures to people who can't afford them. Her sister Juliet works to provide medical and reproductive care to women in need. Her brother David seems flighty but has his own crusade. Lucy is also determined that every woman should be given the method and means to prevent pregnancy and induce menses if that choice is taken from them.

All of this flies in the face of Thorne's upper-class upbringing of what a 'good' woman should do and know, and serves to create the major conflict between them. Lucy refuses to compromise on her ideals and she shouldn't have to.

The author's note at the end brings that struggle into even starker relief. Elizabeth Everett makes it very clear where she stands on the issue of women's reproductive rights and more power to her. It's an issue that deserves fighting for and taking a strong stance on.

I would say that the writing and character development of this is even better than the women scientists series and I look forward to her next book.

*Thanks to NetGalley and Berkley for providing an early copy for review.

Non-Exclusive Excerpt:

Lucy's guilt had been squeezing the breath from her lungs for weeks. On the counter, slightly dented from having been crushed in her fist, then thrown to the ground and stepped on, then heaved against the wall, sat a grimy little tin. Affixed to the top was a label with the all-too-familiar initials RSA. Rider and Son Apothecary. Rider and Son. The latter being the primary reason for this very worst of days. The longer she stared at the tin, the less Lucy felt the strain of responsibility for running Peterson's Apothecary and keeping her siblings housed and fed. Beneath the initials were printed the words Rider's Lozenges. The ever-present exhaustion that had weighed her down moments ago began to dissipate at the sight of the smaller print beneath, which read "exclusive." The more she stared, the more her guilt subsided beneath a wave of anger that coursed through her blood. "Exclusive patented formula for the relief of putrid throats." Exclusive patented formula. The anger simmered and simmered the longer she stared until it reached a boil and turned to rage. Grabbing her paletot from the coatrack and a random bonnet that may or may not have matched, Lucy stormed out of the shop, slamming the door behind her with a vengeance that was less impressive when she had to turn around the next second to lock it. Exclusive patent. The words burned in her brain, and she clenched her hands into fists. One warm summer afternoon four months ago, Lucy had been so tired, she'd stopped to sit on a park bench and had closed her eyes. Only for a minute or two, but long enough for a young gentleman passing by to notice and be concerned enough for her safety to inquire as to her well-being. While the brief rest had been involuntary, remaining on the bench and striking up a conversation with the handsome stranger was her choice, and a terrible one at that. Lucy had allowed Duncan Rider to walk her home, not questioning the coincidence that the son of her father's rival had been the one to find her vulnerable and offer his protection was down to her own stupidity. Now, as Lucy barreled down the rotting walkways of Calthorpe Street, she barely registered the admiring glances from the gentlemen walking in the opposite direction or the sudden appearance of the wan November sun as it poked through the gray clouds of autumn. Instead, her head was filled with memories so excruciating they jabbed at her chest like heated needles, rousing feelings of shame alongside her resentment. Such as the next time she'd seen Duncan, when he appeared during a busy day at the apothecary with a pretty nosegay of violets. He'd smelled like barley water and soap, a combination so simple and appealing it had scrambled her brains and left her giddy as a goose. Or the memory of how their kisses had unfolded in the back rooms of the apothecary, turning from delightfully sweet to something much more carnal. How kisses had proceeded to touches, and from there even more, and how she'd believed it a harbinger of what would come once they married. A shout ripped Lucy's attention back to the present, and she jerked back from the road, missing the broad side of a carriage by inches. The driver called out curses at her over his shoulder, but they bounced off her and scattered across the muddied street as Lucy turned the corner onto Gray's Inn Road. Halfway through a row of weathered stone buildings, almost invisible unless one knew what to look for, a discreet brass plaque to the left of a blackened oak door read: Tierney & Co., Bookkeeping Services Lucy took a deep breath, pulling the dirty brown beginnings of a London fog into her lungs and expelling it along with the remorse and shame that accompanied her memory of Duncan holding her handwritten formula for a new kind of throat lozenge she'd worked two years to perfect.

"I'll just test it out for you, shall I?" he'd said, eyes roaming the page. Duncan and his father had long searched for a throat lozenge remedy that tasted as good as it worked. Might Duncan be tempted to impress his father with her lozenge? His lips curled up on one side as he read, and Lucy recalled the slight shadow of foreboding moving across the candlelight in the back storeroom where they carried out their affair. "I don't know," she'd hedged. Too late. He'd folded the formula and distracted her with kisses. "I've more space and materials at my disposal. I know you think this is ready to sell, but isn't it better that we take the time to make sure?" It might have been exhaustion that weakened Lucy just enough that she took advantage of an offer to help shoulder some of her burdens. However, the decision to let Duncan Rider walk out of Peterson's Apothecary with a formula that was worth a fortune was due not to her sleepless nights, but to a weakness in her character that allowed her to believe a man when he told her he loved her. Now, four months later, somehow Duncan had again betrayed her. Having already lost the lozenge formula to Duncan's avaricious grasp, Lucy had been horrified to find a second formula missing. She'd come up with a salve for treating babies' croup, a remedy even more profitable than the lozenges. What parent wouldn't pay through the nose to calm a croupy baby? Lucy was certain that Duncan must have found out about her work and stolen both the formula and ingredient list for the salve. This time, Lucy would not dissolve into tears and swear never to love again. This time, she was going eviscerate her rival and get her formula back. Then she would swear never to love again.

Excerpted from The Love Remedy by Elizabeth Everett Copyright © 2024 by Elizabeth Everett. Excerpted by permission of Berkley. All rights reserved. 

[yourfriendlyauthor]

Requests guide for story/roleplay fandom verse

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬

1.) Marvel/DC/Justice League/X-men/Guardian Of The Galaxies

2.) Golden Trio

3.) Maurauders

4.) New Gen.

5.)Teen Wolf

6.) My Hero Academia/Boku No Hero Academia

7.)Dragonropa

8.)Demon Slayer

9.)Creepypasta

10.) Black Butler

11.)The Vampire Diaries

12.)Sex Education

13.)Fifty Shades of Grey/Fifty Shades Darker/Fifty Shades Freed

14.) Twilight

15.)Mortal Instruments

16.)Wednesday

17.)Umbrella Academy

18.)Orange Is The New Black

19.)Henry Danger/Danger Force

20.)Percy Jackson And The Olympians

21.)One Direction

22.) The Vamps

23.)The Outsiders

24.)5SOS

25.)Blackpink

26.)BTS

27.)Rappers

28.)Singers/Dancers/Youtubers

29.)Once Upon A Time

30.)Star Wars

31.)Hunger Games

32.)Game Of Thrones

33.)Euphoria

34.)Fantastic Beast

35.)BBC. Sherlock

36.)Indiana Jones

37.) Miraculous

38.) Avatar:The last airbender

39.)CNCO

40.) Why don't We (WDW)

Add: (Specify)

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐏./𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

1.)Brother Sister/Brother Moments

2.)Husband/Boyfriend Scenarios

3.)Mpreg/Pregnancy

4.)Sister Sister/Brother Moments

5.) Parents Children Moments

6.) One-Shot

7.)Imagine

8.)Chatroom

9.)Fluff

10.)Smut

11.)Angst

12.) Wife/Girlfriend Scenarios

13.)Song Prompt

Add: (Specify)

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒

1.) x Y/N

2.) X OC

3.) Pepperoni

4.) Stony

5.) Ironstrange

6.)Ironwidow

7.)Ironsoldier

8.)Starker

9.)Stucky

10.)Romanogers

11.) Steve x Sharon

12.)Winterwidow

13.)Clintasha

14.)Clint x Laura

15.)HulkFrost

16.)Bruce x Tony

17.)Thoruce

18.)Natasha x Bruce

19.)Bruce x Betty

20.) Bruce x Dr.Cho

21.)Winterfalcon

22.)Winterfrost

23.)T'Challa x Bucky

24.)Spideychelle

25.)Spideypool

26.)Peter x Harley

27.)Peter x Eddie Brock

28.) Batman x Joker

29.) Joker x Harley

30.)Superman x Wonder Woman

31.)Ronmione/Hernald

32.)Hinny/Garry

33.)Luville/Nevina

34.)Drastoria

35.)Drarry/Harco

36.)Ron x Blaise

37.)Pansy x Hermione

38.)Ginny x Luna

39.)Jily

40.)Wolfstar

41.)Snape x Lucius

42.)Snape x James

43.)Snilly

44.)Lily x Marlene

45.)Marlene x Sirius

46.)Bellatrix x Tom

47.)Narcissa x Lily

48.)Narcissa x Lucius

49.)Remus x Tonks

50.)Tonks x Charlie

51.)Scorpius x Albus

52.)James x Rose

53.)Bakugo x Deku5

4.)Deku x Uraraka

55.)Shoto x Bakugo

56.)Kirishima x Bakugo

57.)Bakugo x Mina

58.)Shoto x Momo

59.)Adam x Evan

60.)Mauve x Otis

61.)Ruby x Otis

62.)Steve x Ella

63.)Otis x Ola

64.)Christian x Anastasia

65.)Bella x Edward

66.)Tyler x Wednesday

67.)Xavier x Wednesday

68.)Xavier x Bella

69.) Ivan x Bella

70.)Mika x Bose

71.)Chapa x Miles

72.)Charlotte x Henry

73.)Percabeth

74.)Pison

75.)Frazel

76.)Solangelo

77.)Pernico

78.)Larry Stylinson

79.)Ziam

80.)Ziall

81.)Niam

82.)Malum

83.)Lashton

84.)Jikook

85.)Taekook

86.)Katniss x Peeta

87.)Katniss x Gale

88.)Dumbledore x Grindelwald

89.)Captainfrost (Loki x Steve)

90.)Ironpool (Tony x Wade)

Add: (Specify)

[rapeculturerealities]

How South Carolina Ended Up With an All-Male Supreme Court — ProPublica

When attorneys arrived for oral arguments in South Carolina’s high-profile abortion case last fall, state Supreme Court Justice Kaye Hearn took her seat up front, a ruffly white shirt beneath her black robe, the only woman on the dais. With piercing green eyes, she scanned the courtroom.

A sea of white men jammed one side of the room. Before them, at a wooden table, sat three male attorneys there to argue in favor of the state’s law banning abortion after about six weeks of pregnancy.

On the other side of the room, a group composed mostly of women crowded benches behind a female attorney who had challenged the law.

Even in these polarized times, the starkness of the divide stunned Hearn.

South Carolina’s high court was among the first to hear an abortion law challenge after the U.S. Supreme Court released its Dobbs v. Jackson decision last June, overturning the country’s landmark abortion rights case Roe v. Wade and kicking the combustible issue to the states. Hearn knew the nation was watching. But she didn’t anticipate that the arguments about to begin in that divided courtroom would contribute to an even starker gender divide on the court where she sat.

Three months later, on Jan. 5, the justices struck down the deep red state’s abortion law. By a 3-2 vote, the majority ruled that the law violated the state’s constitutional right to privacy. Hearn wrote the lead opinion, a capstone of sorts given she had reached the mandatory retirement age of 72.

While abortion rights supporters rejoiced, the ruling outraged the General Assembly’s new supermajority of Republicans, many of whom derided her as an activist jurist. They also saw an opening.

In South Carolina, unlike all but one other state, the legislature alone selects judges. And in just a few weeks, they would vote on Hearn’s replacement.

The three candidates, who’d been put forward by a legislative commission, were all widely respected judges on the state Court of Appeals: one man, two women. Both women had longer tenures on the state’s second-highest court than the man. One had beat him before: She’d won over legislators in the 2014 race for her appeals court seat. He arrived three years later.

It wasn’t certain how any of the candidates might rule on an abortion case. (Before Dobbs, federal courts handled nearly all abortion law.) Nor were the candidates’ political views obvious; state judicial canon strictly forbids commentary on controversies or issues that may come before the court.

But before lawmakers could cast their votes, the overwhelmingly male lot of Republicans rallied behind the male candidate, Gary Hill, ultimately creating the only all-male state Supreme Court in the nation.

[anjelicawrites]

Hey would you do a thing for when the boys find out your pregnant? How reader finds out and how she tells the boys and how they react?

You find out you're expecting thanks to a colleague. You have been off the pill for six months, trying to fall pregnant; you three are not obsessively counting days or have sex with that goal in mind, you are letting Mother Nature work and, if you three are lucky enough, you'll get pregnant, sooner or later.

Used as you were with the regularity of the pill, going back to your uterus working on its own is a shock, your symptoms being starker, you feeling more tired than what you used to be.

You don't feel great today, the only reason you are not grading papers at home, is that you have to speak with the parents of your pupils today.

"May I ask you something?" it's the new science teacher, whom did her training in your school and landed a job here; you like her a lot, young and full of energy

"Depends"

"It might be a bit personal but... - you can see her weight her options, how to remove this bandaid - the sparkling in your eyes. Are you pregnant?".

Your hand goes to your belly on instinct, bile acid in your mouth

"We are trying. You think? But it's too early! I've been off the pill for just six months! What do I do?".

You can hear the rising panic in your voice, your colleague gently takes your flailing hands and forces you to focus on your entwined fingers.

"First: breathe. Second: I've heard of some people falling pregnant even faster than you did. Third: after you are done here, you go to a pharmacy and buy a home test. Tomorrow morning, first thing you do is use it. At the moment panic is your enemy".

The calmness in her voice helps you center yourself. You have to talk to people who can smell fear and panic, you need to get ahold of yourself.

"If it's positive, should I do the one at the hospital as well, before telling the boys?"

"That's truly up to you. Nowadays these are pretty reliable".

"All right. Christ I need a cigarette"

"Not the best option in your situation"

"Licorice straw?"

"Awful for your blood pressure"

"I need to munch on something before I explode".

You end up with the plastic spoon of your colleague's coffee in your mouth for the rest of the afternoon and two different pregnancy tests in your bag, later that night.

You've never thought five minutes could be that long, you think sitting on the rim of the tub, the two plastic contraptions on the washing basin. You know you should go downstairs, have a cup of tea, instead you are pacing like a maniac, biting your cuticles until the lines appear on the sticks.

The moment Osferth returns home he knows something is up, he can feel it in the air, in the way you nervously run around the kitchen, from the fact that he is not allowed to steal a look at the cake in the oven. Aemond as well can feel the weird electricity: you are planning something and he can't put his finger on what it is. He tries to ask Osferth, who can just shrugs his shoulders in ignorance.

"Boys? Please come here?" the trembling in your voice it's what makes them run into the kitchen.

They scramble in, asking you what's just happened, worry etched into their faces. With shaking hands you hand them over two rectangular boxes with neat bows on them

"What are these my love?" Osferth delicately takes the small box

"Just open it? Please?"

You feel like you're going to jump out of your skin during the moments they need to open the lids and register what's inside.

They both run around the table to hug you, and you just start crying, ugly, fat tears in their combined embrace.

"Is it true gevie?"

"Yes. I am with child. We are going to be parents!".

You can see a miriad of emotions play on Aemond's face: happiness for the pregnancy and fear because now his family will know you all exist, even the unborn baby.

"Are you still happy, right?"

His answer is hugging your belly and start talking High Valyrian against the cotton of your shirt.

"Osferth?".

He hides his face in the curve of your neck, happy tears flowing freely, his hands on your belly, shaky.

You completely forget the cake you've baked for them, too swept in the sea of emotions. You are going to be parents and you still can't believe this is happening.

[kellysbookblog]

THEN COME LIES

Nicole French

Release Date: March 30

 Once upon a time, I fell for a dashing London restaurateur named Xavier.

He left me with a broken heart… and a positive pregnancy test.

Now, he’s back in my life and determined to stay.

He asks me just one question: will I move to London with him?

But as I enter Xavier’s world, our differences couldn’t be starker. 

He’s tall, dashing, and practically royal. 

I’m short, bookish, and the definition of common.

First comes love, then comes marriage.

Yet all I’ve got are half-truths and masked secrets.

If Xavier and I catch fire, the only thing left in the embers may be our deceptions. A note from the author:

THEN COME LIES is the highly anticipated follow-up to the bestselling grumpy-sunshine, secret baby romance, First Comes Love. While it can be read as a standalone, you will enjoy it more if you read Book 1 in the series first. Enjoy! xo, Nic

 Buy Link:

https://bit.ly/3kZ8z1t

Available in KU

 About Nicole French:

Nicole French is a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance. She's also a hopeless romantic, Springsteen fanatic, and total bookworm. When not writing, she is hanging out with her family, playing soccer with the rest of the thirty-plus crowd in Seattle, or going on dates with her husband. In her spare time, she likes to go running or practice the piano, but never seems to do either one of these things as much as she should.

 Keep up with Nicole French and receive your FREE copy of one of her books when you subscribe to her newsletter: bit.ly/NicoleFrenchNewsletter

 Connect with Nicole French:

https://www.nicolefrenchromance.com/links

[sandythereadingcafe]

COVER REVEAL THEN COMES LIES by Nicole French Release Date: March 30 Once upon a time, I fell for a dashing London restaurateur named Xavier. He left me with a broken heart… and a positive pregnancy test. Now, he’s back in my life and determined to stay. He asks me just one question: will I move to London with him? Now that I’m entering Xavier’s world, our differences couldn’t be starker. He’s tall, dashing, and practically royal. I’m short, bookish, and the definition of common. First comes love, then comes marriage. But all I’ve got are half truths and masked secrets. If Xavier and I catch fire, the only thing left in the embers may be our deceptions. Pre-Order Link: US: https://amzn.to/3YDduTH Worldwide: https://bit.ly/3kZ8z1t Add on Goodreads: http://bit.ly/3kUoVIU About Nicole French: Nicole French is a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance. She's also a hopeless romantic, Springsteen fanatic, and total bookworm. When not writing, she is hanging out with her family, playing soccer with the rest of the thirty-plus crowd in Seattle, or going on dates with her husband. In her spare time, she likes to go running or practice the piano, but never seems to do either one of these things as much as she should. Keep up with Nicole French and receive your FREE copy of one of her books when you subscribe to her newsletter: bit.ly/NicoleFrenchNewsletter Connect with Nicole French: https://www.nicolefrenchromance.com/links Wildfire Marketing Solutions

[allthingsdarkanddirty]

 COVER REVEAL

We are thrilled to reveal the gorgeous cover for THEN COME LIES by Nicole French coming March 30!

#PreOrderHere

Once upon a time, I fell for a dashing London restaurateur named Xavier.

He left me with a broken heart… and a positive pregnancy test.

Now, he’s back in my life and determined to stay.

He asks me just one question: will I move to London with him?

Now that I’m entering Xavier’s world, our differences couldn’t be starker.

He’s tall, dashing, and practically royal.

I’m short, bookish, and the definition of common.

First comes love, then comes marriage.

But all I’ve got are half truths and masked secrets.

If Xavier and I catch fire, the only thing left in the embers may be our deceptions.

Add to your Goodreads TBR list: http://bit.ly/3kUoVIU

#newbookalert #lovereading #bookcommunity #reading #bookish #romancenovels #booknerds #bookishlove #mustread #ebooks #wildfiremarketingsolutions

[newswireml]

Poverty in UK could increase death rates during or after pregnancy, warns WHO | Pregnancy#Poverty #increase #death #rates #pregnancy #warns #Pregnancy

Poverty in UK could increase death rates during or after pregnancy, warns WHO | Pregnancy#Poverty #increase #death #rates #pregnancy #warns #Pregnancy

The cost of living crisis could exacerbate Britain’s already woeful rates of women dying during and after pregnancy, the World Health Organization has warned, with health inequalities becoming starker as more expectant mothers are plunged into poverty. The UK is falling behind most comparable European countries, as 9.6 mothers die within six weeks of childbirth for every 100,000 babies, with…

[grumpywaterfalls]

Masterlist: Harry Potter (M-S)

Back to Main Masterlist

Harry Potter

Magnetic Attraction by ellamalfoy8

Malfoy Mix Up by cleotheo

Malfoy’s Don’t Cry by Crookshanks.x

Manacled by senlinyu

Marietta Edgecombe’s Valentine Revenge by Rumaan

Master by AkashaTheKitty

Me Without You by CherryWolf-chan

Memento Mori by JDPhoenix

Minimal Risk by galfoy

Misguided Sympathy by Vashka

Missing by lostinrealityforever

Mister Granger’s Mission by WickedlyAwesomeMe

Mr Malfoy’s Daughter by kkiiittttyyyyy

Mud Slinging by angelrider93

My Life As a House Elf by just call me Cappy

Nerd by WickedlyAwesomeMe

Nine Months by anondracomalfoy

No Longer Helpless by DB2020

Nobody Has to Know, Draco by Glalie773

Not A Care In The World by WillowIce

Not Exactly the Oval Office by rainsrabble

Not just any old bet by My Dusty

Not Like The Movies by Her Ghost Eyes

Oblivious by cleotheo

Observations of a Pure Blood Debutant by rainsrabble

Obsessive Lily Disorder by Procrastinator-starting2moro

Of Captors and Captives by SnuggleLove54

Of Kings and Queens by galfoy

Office Love by phannah17

Once Upon a Disney by writingxonxwalls

Once Upon a Thyme by zensho

Once Upon a Time by Gemsibob

One by Hesaluti

One Thousand Points to Gryffindor by Glalie773

One’s Definition of Self by CherryWolf-chan

Operation Cheer Up Granger But Don’t Die Trying by MyPhoenixLament

Ordinary People by inadaze22

Original Sin by RZZMG

Pansy Parkinson’s Perfect Plan by littledollface

Pansy’s Revenge by frostykitten

Parenthood by smartcat

Parenting Class by IcyPanther

Paris Days by mina1011

Pathetic by ruan-san

Pellicientes Flatum by AlexiaAurora

Playing the Hero by DarkRiverTempest

Poisoned Quill by cleotheo

Pregnancy woes and wonders by Veritas-amore

Print Warfare by frostykitten

Promise Me Love by JodieLove

Public Display of Affection by Erythros

Pure by Hesaluti

Queer How Things Work Out by khal.chels.si

Race Against Time by BeWhoYouAre99

Reasons by LoveBugOC

Red or Green by senlinyu

Redemption by Coral in the moon

Rediscovering Old Skills by Soap1

Renaissance by Gold Scribbles

Response by luckintheair04

Reunited by cleotheo

Revenge by cleotheo

Revenge by Molly Raesly

Revenge of Willie the Broom Closet by leopion

Reverse Psychology by Hanako A

Rewriting Destiny by mayawrites95

Ribbons by Rizzle

Sabotage by LoveBugOC

Scorpius’ Birthday by WickedlyAwesomeMe

Seeker Fit by elithien, senlinyu

Season Pass (To This Ass) by mightbewriting

Second Chances, Same Mistakes by LoveBugOC

Secret Snog Spot by Hanako A

Seeing the Light by AkashaTheKitty

Second Life by drcjsnider

Self Inflicted Laryngitis by B.C Daily

Seven Deadly Sins by drcjsnider

Seven for a Secret by Musyc

Seven Times by kerriclifford240879

Shades of Grey by anondracomalfoy

Sherwood Florist by l0stinl0ve

Shut the Bishop by wouldtheywriteasongforyou

Simply Irrefutable by bookworm1993

Simple Irresistible by bookworm1993

Snape’s New Obsession by Glalie773

Snuffles by aForgottenWeasley

Solid Ground by twin-v

Something Strange by Lerysakon

Spring Green and Pale Pink by IcyPanther

Starburst Castle by KissThis

Starkers by phannah17

Stolen Love by headoverheels4HP

Such Astonishing Surprises by Lerysakon

Sucks for Smith by RavieSnake

Last updated: 10.15.22

[ursafootprints]

What’s a fic that you’d love to read but don’t want to write yourself? I know that’s not a question in any of your posts so no pressure to answer- I was curious after seeing your tags mention writing a superhero version of a storyline because it’s usually written as an AU!

HMMMM. Other than my answers here (endless post-NWH identity porn fix-its; sex pollen omegaverse teen pregnancy fic), the only one I can think of that I've batted around but don't actually have any desire to write is a pretty dark one-- I have idly thought about a fic wherein Peter gets captured and subjected to Various Abuses by Mysterio for a time and has a very hard time trusting that his rescue is real in the aftermath due to repeated illusory mindfuck bullshit Beck subjected him to?

So a Starker fic working through that (and Peter having some Very Unhealthy hypersexual coping mechanisms that are all tangled up with the fact that he doesn't quite trust that anything happening to him is real anymore) is something that I think would be super interesting, but probably too dark/exhausting to actually write. Particularly since I WOULD want it to have a happy ending (or at least, a hopeful one) and the premise is so fucked up that it would take waaaaaaaaay more investment to get there than I actually have in the idea.

I might uh. I might still write the first part (Captured And Subjected To Various Abuses) just for horny reasons/PWP though lmao.

(If this answer proves anything it's why I can't participate at all in general prompt memes or even prompt requests where I would be making the request, because all of my ideas are hyper-specific and I'm usually not compelled by anything that doesn't have some kind of Hook! For YNYD it was "bad guys made them do it (and everyone KNOWS,)" for Naturally it was "sex pollen (but Peter DOESN'T know,)" etc. etc. Obvs it does happen on occasion-- like a sinner was just blatant free use PWP-- but so many of my ideas start with 'so what psychological complexity would this allow me to explore,' lmao.)

Thank you for the ask!! 💖

[marvel--for--life]

Starker + Pregnancy

~ Peter has always been in love with babies. He always stops to wave at them in the grocery store. Sometimes, he even will stop in the middle of walking down the crowded streets of downtown or in a park, just to stop and coo at an adorable baby.

~ All babies are cute. There are absolutely no exceptions.

~ Truthfully, Peter never thought he’d have a baby as much as he liked them. He was always afraid he wouldn’t be a good mother.

~ The day he finds out he’s pregnant, he cries for at least two hours straight. He honestly doesn’t know if it’s stressed induced or pure happiness, but afterward, he sits on the kitchen floor and eats a pint of Ben & Jerry’s (one of those ones with the core of caramel because he just can’t resist).

~ Telling Tony is the scariest thing he’s ever done. Even climbing up the Washington Memorial and flipping over a moving helicopter blade couldn’t even remotely compare to how terrifying it had been to tell his partner.

~ Tony insists on Peter moving in with him because, while he loves May, he instantly becomes twice as protective of Peter and his unborn child because while Tony may not have ever said it out loud... he has always wanted a family.

~ Pregnancy isn’t nice to Peter. He’s hormonal anyways being a teenager still, but pregnancy adds a whole new level of hormonal hell he never thought about before.

~ He suffers all-day sickness. Peanut butter is a no-go when it used to basically be his major source of cheap and easy protein, but now the sight of a peanut butter anything is enough to send him running for the nearest trashcan. Olives, however, are now a go-to snack, so Tony makes sure to keep several jars and cans well within the boy’s reach.

~ When Peter starts to show, he breaks down. Taking one look at himself in the mirror and seeing that all his muscles are gone and have been replaced with fat, he begins to ball his eyes out. Tony comes in to see his partner curled up in the bathtub sobbing hysterically, and when he finally gets Peter to open up and talk to him, the teenager tells him how ugly he looks now that he’s getting fat. Tony quickly assures him that he is anything but.

~ Tony hates it when Peter puts himself down because yes, the boy is getting quite big and round, and he can’t fit into any clothes besides Tony’s old tee-shirts and loose sweatpants, but Peter is glowing. He’s the most beautiful thing Tony has ever seen (he always has been, but pregnancy really does bring out all of the beauty Peter has and adds to it), and he hates to see his little angel crying about how his body is changing. Tony always knows how to help change Peter’s mind though. He’s gotten really good at showing Peter exactly what he thinks of the lovely stretch marks that have spread across his stomach. He kisses every single one of them, nuzzling into the soft baby fat that clings to Peter’s hips as he takes him apart with his fingers until the boy is sobbing and begging for him.

~ On bad days though, when the baby won’t stop kicking and all the aches and pains can’t be relieved, Tony will take the day off and curl up with his partner in bed. He’ll massage at his tired and aching muscles. He’ll whisper to their unborn child, asking the little one to settle down and “be good for Mommy. He’s tired, little one, so why don’t we all take a nap?”

~ Peter always giggles like mad when Tony talks to their baby in Italian or any of the other languages he’s picked up over the years.

~ Their baby is happiest when Tony is singing, pressing tiny feet or hands against Peter’s belly to try and get close to their singing father. Tony will never deny giving the little reacher a kiss.

~When Tony is gone for more than twelve hours, their little bundle of joy will not stop kicking Peter and whacking him in the ribs until Peter sobs into the phone and begs his older partner to return home.

~ Right before his seventh-month ultrasound, Peter’s spidey-senses kick in and leave him more anxious than he’s ever been his entire pregnancy. When he confides in Tony his fear, Tony promises him that they’re in this together and no matter what happens, they’ll work with it. Peter’s anxiety turns out to be shocking but wonderful news: he’s having twins.

~ When they find out there’s two (apparently one of them was smaller and often times hid behind the other to avoid being seen in the other ultrasounds), the nursery goes under a dramatic change. There quickly becomes two of everything, and now it makes sense to Tony why Peter’s been eating enough for four instead of two.

~ They choose to be surprised by the babies’ gender, but Bucky convinces Peter to have a gender-reveal party. Natasha and Bucky plan everything and are in charge of the reveal, so when Peter and Tony open the card filled with blue glitter, the screams of joy are real. When the second card is opened to reveal even more blue glitter, no one says anything about the tears staining both soon-to-be-parents’ cheeks.

~ On a really cold and snowy day in the middle of January, Peter is rushed to the Avengers hospital bay while Tony is busy with a mission. He cries and screams for someone to call Tony because he’s scared. Tony barely makes it in time, but he shows up in the operating room still in his Iron Man suit of armor and immediately takes Peter’s shaking hand in his. The entire delivery goes extremely smoothly because Dr. Cho had been specifically handpicked by Tony years ago since she is the best and “only one qualified to be taking care of the Avengers”. At the end of the day, Peter is curled up in a bed resting with his two little bundles of joy: Anthony Richard Stark and Benjamin Howard Stark. (Tony does not cry over the fact that Peter insists that the firstborn be named Anthony; there was merely something in his eye from the mission.)

~ Tony doesn’t sleep the first night after the twins are born. He stays awake, watching over the love of his life wrapped around his brand new little loves all of them sleeping peacefully in his arms.

~ When the twins first meet the rest of the Avengers, it’s a bit of a mess. There is so much noise and so much going on since everyone wants a good look at the tiny little boys, but eventually, everyone gets a chance to hold them. There are a lot of pictures taken, but the favorite for everyone is the one of Fury holding a tiny blue bundle against his chest with a hint of a smile on his stoic face.

~ The twins are spoiled. Everyone spoils the two little boys, who are the apple of the Avengers’ eyes, but their Uncle Bucky and Uncle Steve are definitely the twins’ favorites.

~ After the twins’ second Christmas, Peter gets the news: he’s pregnant again.

~ The second pregnancy goes better than the first, but it’s still a surprise when they find out (a lot sooner than with the boys) that he’s having multiples again. Bruce thinks it has something to do with Peter’s spider bite, but Tony doesn’t really care. He’s always wanted a big family.

~ And so, instead of starting up a new batch of online college courses, Peter is holed up in the operating room again at the beginning of September, delivering their new little bundles of joy.

~ Maria, Mary, and May are very different than their older brothers. They tend to fuss a bit more, and they certainly favor Peter over Tony (but honestly, the twins do nothing but hang off of everything Tony says/does, so Peter thinks it’s only fair).

~ May Virginia Stark is the smallest of the girls, and she’s the only fraternal one of the three.

~ Maria Josephine and Mary Elizabeth along with May are all princesses in the eyes of their parents and therefore get treated as such.

~ It’s not until the girls are five and the boys are seven that the baby fever bites Peter hard again. Tony is more than happy to oblige.

~ Their last child is born in April on a very rainy morning. It’s also surprisingly the most difficult of Peter’s labors, but it’s also the most rewarding. Little James Harold Stark is finally a part of their giant family.

~ As the kids grow older and grow up with the other Avengers’ children, Peter and Tony watch over them fondly from their spot curled up together on the couch. They can’t help but think of how lucky they really are.

~ The stretch marks and c-section scars have never gone away even as the years pass, but Peter has given up on seeing them as ugly. Tony continues to trace them fondly and kiss over them every time they make love, and he refuses to allow Peter to see them as anything except fond reminders of their family.

[filthy-kaoss]

1950's au where tony came back from a six months war and he is reunited with his husband, peter find out is six months pregnant.

i took the liberty of making it medieval instead, hope ya don't mind anon c;

listen to aftermath to set the mood

Anthony's exhaustion was marrow deep by the time his journey's end approached. He was drained, barely able to hold himself as one should when leading a convoy. He longed for home.

The war had been short, as far as wars went. No force could hope to stand against his machine-craft. The neighboring kingdom had aggressed on Stark lands, attacked his people, incited his wrath. The opposing force had been quickly decimated, yet spat on all offers of mercy. The price of such hubris was destruction, if only to ensure no one would dare such ventures again. For six grueling months, The Blacksmith-King razed his enemies' lands to nothing, conquered all resistance. Left devastation and death in his wake.

There was victory, but two hundred days of ceaseless carnage weighed heavy on the mind. Upon King Anthony's return to the capital, there was still more work to be done.

Hundreds of refugees, their kingdom now destroyed, had been escorted to safety in his army's tow. Anthony entrusted them to Pepper's steadfast stewardship, to house them and give them the choice of being naturalized. General Rhodes was to see to the needs of the soldiers and then to rest himself. A hunting party was sent out and Chef Hogan instructed to prepare a feast for refugees and soldiers alike.

Once the kingdom was in order, Anthony made his retreat. He spared no thought for food or rest or bath. He rode immediately out to his ironworks, a hidden hold, well guarded by his spymaster for the priceless treasure within.

His spymaster, ever watchful Widow, saw his approach, spread the word and opened the gate.

Anthony was dismounting before his horse had even finished skidding to a halt inside the gate. The Blacksmith-King made for the heavy wood doors, carelessly shedding his crown, his hammer, and his sword at long last. The doors opened abruptly as he neared, cast open wide, and at last he was face to face with his beloved prince.

"Tony." the boy breathed.

Both breathing harshly from their haste to reunite, they drank in the sight of each other: water after six months in a desert.

Peter took in the sight of his king, his armor battered and spattered with long dried blood, but intact. Whole. Safe. He was home.

Tony's entire world shifted at the sight of Peter dressed in soft silks with a hand to his round belly and watery eyes that spoke all.

In that instant, everything else in the world ceased to be. Tony fell to his knees, greaves clanking on the masonry. He reached out, gauntlets hovering over Peter's belly in reverence, in awe, almost scared to touch. Finally his hands settled at Peter's waist, either side of the bulge, holding ever so gently. He put his forehead to Peter's belly, to their child. Their child!

He looked up at Peter, tears of joy spilling from both their eyes. Tony turned to put his ear to Peter's belly and Peter put his other hand in Tony's hair, cradled his head there.

One of Tony's hands shifted, pressing to the small of Peter's back.

He could hear it, ever so faint, a tiny heartbeat, pulsing young, quick. Alive.

He looked up at his prince once again, weeping, overwhelmed.

"Welcome home, my love."