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sourcherryandsprinkles · 2 years

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Hi, can I request an aemond one shot with “bigger than the whole sky” from midnights by Taylor Swift?

The reader is Rhaenys and Corlys’ youngest daughter (same age as Aemond) and Alys Rivers was her maid until she gives the reader moon tea disguising it by putting it in wine or something (knowing the reader is pregnant) and it causes the reader to go into prem labour and Aemond feeds Alys to Vhagar and there’s a happy ending with reader falling pregnant again?

keep sending requests!!

Warning: miscarriage

‘’Aemond!’’ you screamed between grunts of pain from the contractions, hands cradling your slightly swollen stomach. ‘’Aem-Ow! Aemond!’’

You had been perfectly fine all morning up until lunch. You and Haelena had been walking to the gardens for afternoon tea when you felt an excruciating pain in your stomach that had you bending in half. Sweet Haelena tried to get you to sit down, but you felt something dripping down your thigh – blood.

This was your first pregnancy, but you had been by your sister Laena's side when was pregnant with the twins and knew this was a sign you were going into labor.

‘’That is impossible,’’ the maestre said to the midwife. Their backs were to you, but you could hear them clearly. ‘’Your term is far from complete, Lady Y/N. This shouldn't be happening-’’

‘’It’s fucking happening,’’ you snapped at them, then was hit by another contraction. ‘’Can someone get Aemond? Where in hells is my-’’

Aemond had been in the courtyard training for the tourney with Ser Criston when a handmaid came and warned him of you going into premature labor. Forgetting about his training, the prince had put away his sword and ran inside the castle to get to your side. As much as he loved to swing his sword and joust, you were of higher importance to his eyes than the tourney.

‘’Where is she?’’ Aemond was frantic, rushing through the corridors to get to his lady wife.

Just as he walked into your shared bedchamber, another scream of pain left your lips accompanied by a rush of blood coming out between your legs, pushing out clots of blood along with a lump.

A chorus of horrified gasps of the midwives was heard, realizing what had happened. What could have been, would have been, should have been your child, now laid on the floor in a puddle of blood.

Suddenly, you couldn’t breathe. You felt yourself losing any senses of consciousness, in a complete state of shock. You didn’t hear the maester leaving the room to alert the queen of the incident nor acknowledged Aemond coming to your side and wrapping his arms around you.

It was all over now. The baby – fetus, at this stage of the pregnancy – was already dead when it slipped from between your legs and to the stone floor with a rush of blood.

Aemond kneeled on the soiled floor, not caring that there would be blood on his clothes. The handmaids will clean them. Just like you, he was completely defeated and heartbroken. He never felt so beaten as he felt now. He wanted to scream, but what was the use?

Salty tears streamed from your eyes at the sight of the floor.

The following days were the darkest and saddest you had ever lived. You had cried so much tears that there was none left to spill. Your sorrow and pain were inconsolable.

One afternoon, a handmaid other than Alys brought you tea. You were confused why Alys wasn’t the one bringing the tea to your chamber, but you assumed she was busy elsewhere.

You kindly thanked her and took a sip. ‘’This tea tastes different from the one Alys brings to me. Has Maester Orwyle administered a new tea?’’

The handmaiden shook her head. ‘’No, Lady Y/N. This is regular rose tea,’’ she said, not understanding what could be different with the tea. ‘’Should I bring you a new teapot? Perhaps this one hasn’t been made correctly.’’

‘’Rose tea? Alys’s tea tastes of mint and licorice-’’ You interrupted yourself, your stomach churning as you remembered which tea tasted of mint and licorice. Tears filled your eyes. ‘’Could you fetch me Prince Aemond? I need to speak to him about a serious matter.’’

‘’Yes, my lady.’’

The accusation was of grave matter and only based on your suspicions, but you had to tell Aemond. Alys was your personal handmaid. If your suspicion of her poisoning you by giving you moon tea and lying about it being a special brew from the maester turned out to be true, she could be sentenced for treason and murder.

Aemon’s jaw was clenched. ‘’Are you certain?’’

You nodded. ‘’Yes, my love. I’ve been given moon tea before, I know what it tastes like. We can ask Maester Orwyle to be more certain-’’

He believed you. You weren’t malicious enough to be inventing bad things about your handmaids just to get them in trouble.

‘’That won’t be necessary.’’ Rage filled Aemond’s eye.

All he wanted to do was give the traitorous bitch to Vhagar for dinner.

‘’We should tell the queen,’’ you said, making a move to get up only to be guided back against the pillows.

‘’You, rest. I will inform Mother of Alys’s doing.’’

Taglist: @taylordaughter @gillybear17 @liltimmyst @eos-princess @Kaitieskidmore1 @instabull

House of the Dragon/Game of Thrones taglist: @anastasiaxsworld @lollypopcrazylover @fin-never @dkathl @ayamenimthiriel @nerdy4itall @rraindrops @glors3 @beelanie @hc-geralt-23 @sweetybuzz25 @uniquenightsheep @kaywsworld @i-yam-awesome @caspianobsessed @kelssssxd @dilfsarebetterthanyou @missyviolet123 @leakycauldrns @brezzybfan @khaleesihavilliard @vexedvalerie @lollaa-puff @my-dark-prince @chevelledahuman @caspianobsessed @ayamenimthiriel @yor72 @mirandastuckinthe80s @newtsniffles @cleverzonkwombatsludge @justaproudslytherpuff @ren-ni @green-lxght @anginoguera @bubblebuttwade @comicsol1999 @rockerchick05 @baelavelaryonwp @tnu-ree @beccawinter @alexisabirdie @persage @hayleighloatx @kindaslightlyacidic @perdynerd @elsyyie @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @xannybabyxx @katiepie67 @kjones375 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @queenofshinigamis @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @Wehi02 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @cayleecook38 @yoyopolloobamadaddy @hayleighloatx @vane1999-blog @smptxx @fairyfolkloresposts @yassi-world @todaywasafairytale07 @ESobilal @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine

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starryeyedadmirer · 8 months

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You’re brothers, Cammy… brothers. Nothing more. You’re Ian… he’s Lip… and the two of you are brothers!

Cameron tried his best not to get all mushy with Jeremy once the cameras started rolling again… to get into the headspace of a doting, supportive, non-incestuous younger brother… but keeping has hands to himself during filming was a challenge for him, knowing that — in their real lives — Jeremy was pregnant with his child.

They’d been doing this for years… playing a close duo of brothers onscreen… acting as though they were truly related by blood… but, now that they’re sexually involved with one another off set, and expecting a baby, things have changed. Getting through the day without letting their private romance hinder his performance should’ve been a walk in the park for Cam… and yet, he just couldn’t maintain his professionalism.

Brothers. Ian.. Lip. Brothers.

Ian was supposed to keep his hands to himself… say his line and keep the scene going, the way that it was intended to… but Cameron, seeing an open opportunity to connect with his unborn baby while Lip ate from his messy plate of food, forgot all about the cameras, lights, and crew-members in the room, and planted his palm squarely on his costar’s belly… ruining the shot, once again. “Hey there, little guy.” He said under his breath, so that the sound department couldn’t make out his words. “I’m your daddy, Ian— I mean… Cameron. I’m your daddy… Cam. Hi.” Just like that — with his mind still stuck in reality, and the mere existence of the fetus clouding his thoughts — he spoiled another take… which meant that they’d have to reset everything and call “action” all over.

“Brothers, Cameron! Brothers!” Called out a voice from another room in the house. “That’s what you are! You and Jeremy… Ian and Lip… you’re brothers! Get it right this time! Don’t make us do this again!”

#starry eyes #quick write #cameron monaghan #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white mpreg #mpreg fic

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ummmlife · 3 months

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first-time dad nanami headcanons

first-time dad nanami who cried when his partner told him they were going to be parents

first-time dad nanami who gets the couvade syndrome and suffers the morning sickness more than his partner

first-time dad nanami who will ask the obstetrician a lot of questions about his baby when this isn't even a fetus yet

first-time dad nanami who will get up happily from bed the first times to get his partner's their night cravings but later will struggle more and even steal slices of the weird food combinations he has to make

first-time dad nanami who almost fainted the first time his partner had random contractions

first-time dad nanami who nuzzles his nose on his partner's baby bump and kisses it everytime he says "i love you" to his baby

first-time dad nanami who is already making saving accounts to save money for college of his, still unborn, baby

first-time dad nanami who once got kicked by his baby on the face when he was snuggling with his partner and giving them belly rubs and belly kisses

first-time dad nanami who holds his partner's baby bump from behind so they can rest a bit

first-time dad nanami who will get annoyed as hell when, at the baby shower, gojo gifted them a baby t-shirt that says "i get my good looks from my uncle"... even though neither him nor his partner are blood related to him

first-time dad nanami who almost drops his job when his partner was on the last stages of their pregnancy just to take care of them better

first-time dad nanami who couldn't do so since they need the money

first-time dad nanami who got anxious when his partner's water broke in the middle of the night

first-time dad nanami who partner had to remind him that they have time and there's no need to run to the hospital

first-time dad nanami who is more than ready to receive his baby... theoretically

first-time dad nanami who curses under his breath when his partner grabs and squeezes his hand hard af when they get a contraction, but doesn't mind since he's about to meet his baby

first-time dad nanami who fought the need to faint when he was seeing his partner deliver their baby, a whole new experience

first-time dad nanami who cried when he heard his baby's crying for the first time

first-time dad nanami who didn't want to hold his baby because... well, his baby is just so small and he's so big and he was scared of accidentally dropping the baby

first-time dad nanami who looks 24/7 for his baby, even when the baby is asleep and completely fine

first-time dad nanami who reads tons of books about parenting for dummies because he's worried and doesn't want to be a bad father

first-time dad nanami who comforts his partner everytime they get overwhelmed by their baby

first-time dad nanami who is already trying to get all the benefits from the government ¹ and his job ² now that he has a baby

first-time dad nanami who tries to sing for his baby to sleep, even if he's not good at singing

first-time dad nanami who can't help but stare at his baby with love, this little person is the living proof of his and his partner's love and he will protect both with his life

References ;

1. "Information on recent reform of Japanese Social Policies". www.ipss.go.jp. Retrieved 2017-12-07.

2. Rendon, Maria Jose. "Family Policy in the US, Japan, Germany, Italy, and France: Parental Leave, Child Benefits, Family Allowances, Child Care, Marriage, Cohabitation, And Divorce". webcache.googleusercontent.com. Archived from the original on 2019-08-15. Retrieved 2017-12-07.

#. bibi's writing #jjk nanami #nanami kento #jjk nanami headcanons #nanami headcanons #jjk fluff

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kbrick · 1 year

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Peak Drarry: Celebrating Incredible Writers - aibidil

Peak Drarry is a series of posts celebrating the absolute treasure trove of talented writers in this fandom, and a reminder of how lucky we are to have them here with us. I’m kicking it off with one of my all-time faves, @aibidil.

✨AIBIDIL✨

I’m guessing there are very few people involved in the Drarry fandom who haven’t heard of aibidil. Aibidil has been showering us with quality fic since 2017 and has over sixty offerings on AO3. Her works were some of the first I consumed when I fell headfirst into Drarry during covid, and had a lot to do with my desire to write my own. I still distinctly remember being blown away by A Hag, a Hex, a Tale of Redemption, by how aibidil had managed to create such a compelling, funny, and heartfelt fuck-or-die fic, one that stood out from the rest. So, why should you read aibidil’s fic? Here are a few reasons:

They are creative and get you thinking

Sometimes there’s a trope or two thrown into the mix, but even then, the trope is merely a jump-off point into something much bigger. Trope: Ginny and Harry break up and Harry finds solace in and then love with Draco. Aibidil comes along and says, okay, fine, but make the problem Ginny’s unwanted pregnancy, have Harry experience emotional turmoil over that fact (not that Harry-Abandonment-Issues-Should-Be-My-Middle-Name-Potter identifies with an unwanted fetus, no, of course not), have him spend the rest of the story sorting through his complicated feelings, and make the whole thing a testament to reproductive choice (this fic is called (Un)wanted, by the way. It’s incredible). Trope: Malfoy wears a skirt and Harry goes feral. Aibidil’s take? Malfoy wears the skirt because he and Hermione are leading a protest against the gendered, outdated Ministry dress codes (Beards, Booty Shorts, and Binaries).

Abidil’s stories don’t always skew political (although I love when they do), but they always have something to say. In A Hag, a Hex, a Tale of Redemption, Draco must come to terms with what it means to love someone, and how consent plays into that (does a lie negate consent?). Truth and love also play a role in When Times Are Dire, when Harry and Draco must pretend to marry to save the world. But is it pretend when they really are joining their lives and families together?

Beyond the deeper moral and ethical questions present in these stories, aibidil’s fic always manages to be creative and interesting. Abidil comes up with some of the most inventive sorts of magic (you really have to read her latest, Always Already, for one of the most thoughtful depictions of magical time travel I’ve ever read). Her premises can be angsty, like what if Astoria tells Scorpius—on her death bed no less—that he is actually Draco’s child with Harry (when by now and tree by leaf)? They can also be downright silly, like what if Draco can’t stop hiccoughing for days (Upside Down, Holding One’s Breath)? But one thing of which you can be certain: they’re never, ever boring.

They’re a master class in characterization

So, aibidil can dream up interesting, different, thought-provoking storylines, yes. But she also gets it right when it comes to characterization. Her Harry and Draco are always recognizable to me, no matter how evolved and changed they’ve become. There is something essential there, something true to the characters we know and love, that is ever present. And I think that’s because aibidil truly empathizes with and cares about her characters. This knack for getting in a character’s headspace means that aibidil is able to create some of the most fully formed, well rounded and realistically portrayed versions of Harry and Draco I’ve read. Whether it’s Harry in When Times are Dire enjoying the way his children sort of take his love for granted (because Harry wants that for them so badly, wants to be a constant, unquestioned source of support in their lives) or Draco in Always Already shoving down his snark in order to be as inoffensive as possible as a sort of penance for the war, you both recognize and feel for these characters. They’re flawed and imperfect, but they’re trying, and you love them for it.

There are moments in aibidil’s fic that leave me breathless because of how well they nail down the essence of a character in just a few words, or a single exchange or situation. For instance, in When Times Are Dire, Draco and Harry take a trip to the zoo and Draco buys Harry an absurdly enormous ice cream sundae after Harry recalls a time his aunt and uncle bought one for Dudley but not him. “Harry found himself at a loss for words,” aibidil writes. “He thought he’d worked through his childhood zoo issues. He’d been here so many times as an adult, without the abuse of the Dursleys. He had so many wonderful memories here, so many trips with his kids. But no one had ever bought Harry an ice cream before [emphasis mine].” The way Draco understands Harry, and the way he helps Harry to understand something about himself in such an everyday sort of scene is beautiful.

In Pure Imagination, Harry and Draco, experiencing depression after the war, are given a potion that allows them to tap into their imaginations completely, the way a child would. They have an excellent time on the potion together, imagining all sorts of things, including taking a trip to a Muggle skate park (together), which they agree to do at a later date. But afterward, Harry retreats and doesn’t go to the skate park (a decision that gives us incredible insight into the Harry of this story, come to think of it). In their joint trip to the counselor’s office later, Draco tells the counselor that imagination is dangerous because it opens people up to disappointment. “It’s smart that I don’t allow myself delusions like thinking I can somehow have a fulfilling career, even given my past,” he says. “It’s smart that I don’t allow myself the delusion of thinking Potter might want to spend time with me when he’s not high on a fucking imagination potion.”

And doesn’t this cut right to the heart of Draco? Whether he’s being cruel the way he was in canon, or being cool and indifferent, the way he is at the beginning of Pure Imagination, he is someone who struggles to believe in his own self-worth, and has found an entire arsenal’s worth of methods to hide this fact, even, sometimes, from himself.

They’re just so damn funny

And finally, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention one of the absolute best things about aibidil’s stories. Because on top of incredible storylines and beautiful character work, aibidil is fucking hilarious. I don’t think I’ve ever read through anything of hers without laughing out loud. Oftentimes, the humor is situational, like in When Times Are Dire when Harry and Draco tell their children that they’re in a relationship (when they’re actually not) and proceed to have one of the most awkward exchanges of all time with them, which leads to Harry clarifying that they are together ‘sexually’ (He says that. To his children.). Or in Auld Acquaintance, when Harry comes through the floo looking like a teenager and Draco finds himself torn between the ghost of attraction his own teenaged self had for this version of Harry and the fact that to his mature, grandfatherly eye, Harry looks “doughy…like an underbaked infant.” Or in Starve Your Distractions, Feed Your Focus, when a coupled-up Harry and Draco have to work out with a very sexy Neville, who is wearing joggers that leave little to the imagination.

Sometimes, though, the hilarity is in the form of amazing dialogue (her Harry and Draco banter is always top-tier) or of others’ observations of the Drarry dynamic, like when Neville says (in Always Already) this about Harry and Draco’s teasing of one another: “Don't mind them. It's like their little traumatised child-warrior foreplay or something.” Aibidil is always aware of the story she’s telling, and of the Drarry-ness of it all. These are not simple men, and theirs is never a typical, simple relationship, and you know what? That can be funny. As Harry says in When Times are Dire: "Ah yes. I'm a cheap date. All it takes to get me in bed is to almost kill each other, survive a war together, work together over decades, have children who fall in love and get married, get married for political reasons, pretend to be in love for two years to all friends and relatives, become grandparents together, and take a controlled substance to open up enough to tell each other the truth. That's all."

See? Easy.

Finally, I shouldn’t leave out the fact that aibidil’s acronyms are the best of all time (her most recent fic’s C.O.C.K. is my new favorite, but there are oodles of excellent ones).

Recommended For…

Everyone. Listen, if you enjoy laughing, or exciting and original storylines, or fic that makes you think, or fic that reveals the beating hearts of our favorite characters, aibidil’s catalog of work is for you. There is angst in places, there is smut in places, but that’s not really the point of her fic. The point is the journey, the character development, and the ridiculous amount of joy and energy contained in all of these stories. Here are a few you might want to check out, but honestly, you can’t go wrong with anything she’s written.

Top 3 Fics Over 25,000 Words (by kudos)

Dating for Dads in Denial (25k) - In which one wizard designs and another reluctantly patronises a magical matchmaking service, amidst the chaos of children and parenting.

when by now and tree by leaf (46k) - When Scorpius Malfoy is saying goodbye to his dying mother, he doesn't expect to hear her confess, "Your father slept with another man and became pregnant with you."

Moldova’s Magical Tea (32k) - Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and—to everyone’s surprise—Draco Malfoy are opening a magical tea shop to revive wizarding tea culture. Harry, who is unemployed and trying to find his way in post-war society, wants to help his friends with their new business—but that means spending a lot of time around Malfoy.

Top 3 Fics Under 25,000 Words (by kudos)

Back to You (8k) - The eighth years make Harry and Malfoy go head to head and back to back in a question-and-answer drinking game. The worst that can happen is they end up drunk, right?

The Usual (9k) - Harry finally tries the new magical coffee shop on Diagon Alley. A story in which Draco is Up To Something™ and Harry is going to get to the bottom of it, and to the bottom of that sixteen ounce to-go cup.

Beards, Booty Shorts, and Binaries (9k) - Harry was hoping for a quiet day at the office, but Hermione and Draco are waging a war on discrimination with beards and skirts.

Kbrick’s Picks (in order of obsession)

When Times Are Dire (130k) - Magical Britain is screwed, and it's once again up to Harry to save it. This time, by marrying Draco Malfoy.

Always Already (170k) - It's 2004: Harry teaches primary school and loves his job and friends; It's 1980: Harry has to fight Voldemort, again; It's 2004: Draco is a trainee Healer and reformed member of society; It's 1980: Draco has to face his father's cruelty; It's 2004: Harry and Draco definitely aren't lonely or depressed or traumatised; It's 1980: Harry and Draco listen to Kate Bush and watch Dallas and drive a 1979 Ford Cortina; It's 2004, it's 1980, it's...

Pure Imagination (15k) - An eighth-year tale of depressed happiness, reluctant imagination, and conflicted hope. And skateboarding.

#drarry #peak drarry #fic recs #writer rec #amazing writers #drarry fic rec

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smok3r7 · 4 months

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Is Leaving Even An Option?

Joel x F!reader

Explicit, 18+

Two: Too Late

Series MasterList & Main MasterList - My Ao3

Summary: Your days have become one in the same, even with the terrifying reality of death right outside the walls of Jackson. You never thought you’d be in the situation you’ve been stuck in for seven years now, the daily abuse you endure has become an expectation. You take whatever your husband throws at you, literally and figuratively, because you’ve been trained to believe this is normal. But a new man, Joel, moves next door and happens to be friendly towards you, this causes your husband’s anger to worsen. Your mind starts a gruesome war with itself - can you leave him or do you stay until the inevitable happens?

Chapter Summary: Your daily life of tragedy somehow takes an even worse turn. After losing, yet again, your child, but this time by the hands of your own husband, you start to crack. You try to open up to Maria, but it doesn’t go as planned and now you are completely stuck on what to do.

Word count: 3.6k

⚠️Warnings: EXTREME verbal and physical abuse, miscarriage from abuse, strangulation until passing out, slapping, name calling, fat shaming, anxiety, gut punch, throwing glass at reader, forgiving husband over and over

—

“This house is such a mess, do you just sit on your lazy ass while I’m out on patrol, risking my life for you?” Nate’s voice echoes from upstairs off of the emerald green colored walls of your home.

You’re sitting on the plush black couch in the living room listening to your record player play “Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay” by Otis Redding as you continue to put little puzzle pieces together on the dark wood table in front of you, immune to his vile words.

You hear the stomping of his boot covered feet in the room above you. He came home from a patrol meeting mad about something Maria had said, but again, when isn’t he? No matter what you do or say, Nate is never satisfied with you and it has become the norm. You spend all day cleaning the house until it is sparkling clean, even the high windows you have, that you can’t reach without a ladder, get cleaned and Nate still complains about seeing dust along the window sill - which was never even there.

Your body turns to stone when you hear the fast creaking of the stairs caused by Nate’s brutally quick steps. The small puzzle piece you have in between your index and thumb falls from them, your lungs stop mid breath, and your eyes start to blink constantly so the tears that are coating your eyes don’t stream down your cold face. Your body can turn on and off as it pleases, this has become your new routine, every single day.

To your right, you hear the scoff and you knew it was coming. “Still just sitting on your fat ass. Wow.” He enunciates the wow and the sound of the hardwood floor notifies you that he’s now getting closer to you, and you’re still in the same position when he comes down, too scared to move or open your mouth, because the tiniest sign of resistance can cause this whole thing to blow up. You’re hoping he’ll stop his nonsense when he notices the pink positive pregnancy test on top of the sonogram that shows a two and a half month fetus, laying on the glass table in front of you.

“Are you fucking stupid or-“ Nate’s loud voice stops mid sentence, he must see the sonogram. Your forehead has sweat beaded all over, your fingers are picking at one another in your lap, your stomach has this acidic sensation that makes you feel queasy. “This is yours?” He questions with a confused expression as you turn to watch his tattooed muscular arm reach for the items. You nod slowly and gaze into his ocean blue eyes that you adore so much. For the first time in five years, you see Nate’s eyes truly filled with love but, as fast as that feeling washed over him, it’s gone. You see the light drain from his face and get replaced with rage - oh god.

“Who have you been fucking?” He barks as he back hands your face, and you had no time to brace yourself, so the forcefulness of him made you fall onto the white shag rug in between the glass table and the couch. A mixture of what? No one and only you spew out of your lips, now bleeding from his strike. As you land on your back, you’re trying to crawl away from his towering body, but before you can get away he’s sitting all his weight on your stomach and his large hands wrap around your throat. You’re staring right into his baby blues with pure panic, your hands starting to claw at him around your neck to try to make him stop.

“It’s Brad isn’t it? You fucking whore!” Nate spits in your face as his grip tightens, causing your eyes to bulge from their sockets a bit.

All four of your limbs are flailing and hitting the wood floor as you’re trying to get him off of your tummy at least. He has his full body weight pushing on your and his precious baby and there’s nothing you can do about it. You feel absolutely hopeless, like the world is falling apart at the seams.

“Ain’t had sex in almost two months! But I see how you and Brad talk to each other, you’re such a slut!” He continues to spit, fully convinced of himself, even though he’s lying.

The look on his blonde bearded face is pure hatred, his thick brows furrowed together creating the lines to deepen, lips rambling away in a scowl. You believe that he would kill you and have zero remorse about it - but somehow, you still love him. The last thing you remember looking at is Nate’s beautiful baby blue eyes staring daggers into yours before everything fades into black.

—

“So what happened?” Tommy whispers not knowing you’re awake but just loud enough for you to hear as you watch them from afar.

“I don’t even know man!” Nate’s answers in an emotional tone, “I had gotten home from the meeting and she was doing her puzzle in the living room. I went up to shower and when I got dressed I heard a bunch of commotion downstairs.” He takes a breather like he’s overwhelmed by the answer, and Tommy tells him to take his time, tapping him on the shoulder to comfort him.

“As I walk into the living room, I see this guy sitting on her, so I yell and the guy gets spooked and runs through the house and out the back door.” Nate cries and forcefully puts his hand on the wall next to your bedroom door.

You can’t fucking believe him. You hate that he is such a good liar, it’s disgusting how good he is. He has perfected it since he snatched you up and you should have noticed the red flags before it got to this point. You’ve become so pathetic, letting him just walk all over your soul with no respect for you, and you have no life since he’s isolated you - you only exist for Nate’s needs and wants.

But you ignored how he treated you like a possession, never let you go by yourself anywhere, and if you did, he would question you about everything, making you quit your job at the stables because he didn’t want you to have to work. Slowly, the name calling started - you were always a whore, a slut, a cunt, dumbass, and his personal favorite “A hole for me to fill.” Then the slapping, punching, hair pulling, and choking against the wall became part of the daily routine.

What pulls you back in are the apologies, where he is on his knees crying and pleading with you to forgive him. “I’m so sorry sweetheart, I’ll never do that again, you don’t deserve that, please give me another chance, you are my moon and stars.” Nate has such a beautiful voice, smile, and he’s really charming. You really do believe him. However, it’ll be fine for a day or two, and then it’ll be right back to him hurting you. It’s been a vicious cycle you’ve lived the last five years.

You come back to the realization of where you are and why, your hands instinctively going over your swollen stomach, expecting to still feel that little creature growing in you, but there’s nothing. That mini you is now no more and your mind breaks - it was your body’s last straw. The most earth-shattering scream escapes your body, not caring about anything but your baby. “Not my baby!” You repeat with wails of salty tears soaking your cheeks as you sit up and wrap your sleeve covered arms around your bottomless belly, just shaking.

Nate and Tommy spin their heads as your husband jumps towards you and Tommy disappears into the hallway. “Not my baby!” Still sobbing but for another, for Rosa - you have been stripped of both of your children through death. The feeling of utter despair and rage starts to fight inside of you, is it his fault or is it yours?

The touch of Nate’s hand gently rubbing your face makes you spring your eyes open and look at him. You want to fight him off so bad, the urge to claw at his face and to scream that this is all his fault is boiling inside your chest. But the way his hand is caressing your cherry-red cheeks and his face is in disarray, his blonde hair looks like he’s been running his hands through constantly, his soul-snatching eyes now bloodshot, and his lips a soft red from biting his lips. It all together makes you swoon over him like a teenage girl again, you love him, which is why you won’t leave him.

“My love,” he whispers softly as he brings his lips to your forehead and places a gentle kiss, which makes you cry all over again.

“My baby…” you choke out once more before Nate lays down in the bed you two share, next to you and just holds you as you weep into his chest.

You love being held by him, the feeling of security and love flowing through your body when he holds you like a koala. His strong arms wrap around your torso, his thick legs latch around yours, and you take in the smell of his sweat and subtle scent of deodorant, smiling from the familiarity of him. However, an uneasy feeling grows in your guts, your mind racing about what to do because you now know what your husband is capable of doing to his wife; he killed his baby because he thought it wasn’t his.

This should make you leave and want absolutely nothing to do with him ever again, but it’s not that simple. You are dependent on Nate for everything, you don’t have anything of your own, and you can’t just start fresh. It seems impossible without him, and the fact you live in Jackson means that you will end up seeing him everywhere. So the urge to just stay married and deal with whatever comes your way is a lot easier than the ladder, and that’s what you have to choose.

You’re in too deep to just leave, and now with the amount of emotional turmoil there is between the two of you, it will create a new level of mind games.

—

“Hi honey, how are things?” Maria coos as you stand up to receive her hug.

“I’m doing well, thank you. How are you?”

Maria planned a lunch date, it's been one year since your miscarriage, and she didn’t want you to be alone since Nate and Tommy have been gone on patrol for a month. It’s been the most relaxing month you’ve had in years, and it’s very rare that they’re gone this long, two and a half weeks at most. You’ve been able to enjoy the pleasure of your own home, and didn't have to tiptoe around the house just to use the bathroom.

However, this last week has been emotionally exhausting because you have dealt with this looming anniversary alone, and times like these are when you miss Nate the most, because he would hold you, no matter what happened that day, and he would comfort you at night. You’re not sure if that’s a guilt thing for him since he killed his own baby, but you don’t really care why he does it, it’s just the fact that he does.

You haven’t slept much this last week - you’ve tried everything from warm baths to herbal remedies you made from your own garden you started a few years back, in the yard. Your mind just roams in circles about your whole life, about before and your beloved Rosa, then your marriage to Nate, which is at the end of the day, not a marriage, and finally your miscarriage.

It’s been a constant struggle to keep yourself occupied from your own brain, but thankfully Maria and a couple other girls check up on you when they can. They bring baked goods or full meals for you, and sometimes they’ll just sit with you, which you’re thankful for.

“No word on the boys yet,” Maria blurts as she opens the menu that reads Kenny's Burgers - one of the only restaurants in Jackson, packed with customers all the time. “Thank god,” you say louder than you meant, and Maria’s face grows confused. Shit, you think to yourself, why did you have to say that?

“Umm, what?” She asks as she folds the menu back up and sets it on the white round table between the two of you. You bite your bottom lip, do you tell her or lie?

“I meant- like, I- “ you are scrambling for anything to explain yourself but you can’t seem to grasp any ideas. You feel like if you tell the truth, Nate will come out of nowhere and attack you worse than ever. The buzzing of the people at tables around you has started to bother you, your breathing is becoming erratic. You’re sweating heavily, hands fidgeting with each other on the table, before Maria’s hands lightly grab them and she tells you to look at her. Embarrassed at yourself, you slowly pick your head up and gaze at her face, avoiding eye contact with her, afraid you’ll break down right here and now.

“Honey, what is going on with you?” She questions with a defeated sigh. You know she hates seeing the mighty woman you once were, turned into a frail shell of the woman she used to be.

It’s on the tip of your tongue, and you desperately want to spill everything that Nate has done to you, but like some kind of fucked up joke. Your eyes gaze past Maria and you see Nate walking towards you, and he has the smug face he does when he knows you’re thrown off by his actions.Taking in his appearance in utter horror, you notice his brown carhartt jacket and black jeans are drenched in dried blood, and he has a patch of gauze with blood soaking through taped to his neck - he looks like absolute hell.

Maria turns around to see what you’re terrified of, and when she finds Nate walking closer, she puts two and two together in her head.

“Tommy?” She asks from her chair with a sudden change in her tone.

“Putting the horses away, he let me go early to come see my girl today,” he smoothly coos, waiting for you to stand up for him. And without a second thought, you do just that. Hi baby, you hum into his chest. As scared as you just were seeing him again with no warning, that feeling is quickly washed away in a tidal wave created by his familiar smell and touch.

You open your eyes and are met with Maria’s, her face is plastered with an oh, my poor girl kind of look, you smile softly to her as if to tell her, it’s okay. She gives an unconvincing nod as she excuses herself to go see Tommy, and you and Nate give her a quick wave goodbye as she turns her back and walks towards the stables. Now that swallowing feeling of the unknown is jumping in your chest, and you don’t know what to expect from him.

“Let’s go home.” Nate demands as he slides his hand around the curve of your hip, and without any reluctance, you walk side by side with him all the way to the beautiful farm house where you live - the one that doesn’t feel like home.

—

“What happened to your neck?” You hesitate to ask as you close the front door behind your uneasy body, kicking off your boots. You hear him scoff as he walks over and grabs a small glass from the cabinet above the liquor and grabs a bottle of whiskey, pours the glass half full with the brown liquid, and sighs as he slides his blood-soaked coat off of his shoulders and hangs it up on the coat rack next to him.

You’re now to the right of him, about ten feet, hesitantly sitting on the couch, the very seat where he attacked you and your baby. You have a new puzzle on the clear glass table - it’s your safe hobby, the peace your soul receives from figuring out difficult puzzles is incredibly satisfying and comforting. Silence fills the room and without Nate even saying anything, you can feel the tension in the air switch like Jekyll & Hyde.

The way he takes the swig of whiskey and slams the glass back onto the granite countertop, almost shattering the glass, causes your body to jump from the sound. He fills the glass another time and repeats the aggressive action, your mind thinking of different ways to change the atmosphere at least a little bit. But consider the fact that you can’t even ask a simple question anymore, you might as well just be a rag doll for him. But who are you kidding? You already are.

All of a sudden, you notice his hand holding the empty glass in a different position. No way, you think, but before you know it, he’s turning his body to face you, winds back his arm and chucks the glistening glass at you. You duck your head between your thighs and scream as you hear the sound of shards scattering throughout your living room as it hits the wall behind you.

“What did you tell her?” Nate grits through his teeth, and you pick your head up and stare at him. He is boiling with rage, his ears and chest are red like a tomato and his chest heaving. You’re honestly shocked he hasn’t put his hands on you yet.

“Dumbass, what did you tell her?” Echoes in the living room. “Nothing!” You yell back, standing up to him for the first time in years. He doesn’t like that, now standing right in front of you, staring down at you, waiting for you to back down. It doesn’t come, you’ve had enough, and you’re not gonna allow him to do this to you anymore.

“Really?” His demeanor changes after he questions you, and if he doesn’t like your answer, he will hit you.

“Told her nothing. But maybe I should.” You snarl back with a slight smirk on your face. You’ve loved when you could throw him off his pedestal just a little bit, even with some of the repercussions that come afterwards. But now, after making up your mind, you have become confident in yourself - not as much as before, but it’s a start.

You don’t even see him wind his hand back, but all of a sudden an overbearing pain shoots into your gut. Your body folds in on itself, chest heaving for air of any kind to grasp onto, and your eyes dart to the cause of this excruciating pain. Your mind is blown when you see Nate’s left hand with his black wedding band. Your lungs have no air for a minute as you gasp over and over, your back on the floor, the same exact spot.

“Good luck leaving, whore,” he spits and walks away from your convulsing body on the living room floor. The creaking of the floorboards on the steps ring through your ears, followed by the slamming of the bedroom door, and then, silence.

You’re curled up into a ball on the same white shag rug, more or less for the same reason as before - Nate, your husband. The tears begin to pour out of your eyes, as do some wails, but they’re silenced by your sleeves covering your mouth. The pain in your stomach is unbearable, it has you rocking your body in little movements to try to make it go away - the feeling of death creeps into your peripheral but is quickly swept away.

“Good luck leaving, whore,” in his spiteful voice repeats throughout your thoughts. What did he mean by that? Can you leave? What did you get yourself into? Why didn’t you just shut up? Why can’t there be someone to help you? Your body and brain are going in loops between getting up and never looking back, and waiting till tomorrow to see what he does.

He just was gone for a month on patrol, and that’s why he’s stressed out, right?

Right?

#joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #Is Leaving Even An Option #joel miller fanfic #joel miller series #dark story #READ WARNINGS

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shadowscrybe · 2 months

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Rayven's Revenge- Chapter 6

Summary: Rayven is the younger sister of Rhysand in the Night Court. She was banished 64 years ago for the murder of her sister. This is the story of Rayven earning her place in Prythian and finding out what it means to be family. We all know how her story ends...but how did she get there? I don't want to forget the demon princess with bat wings. Do you?

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: none-typical canon content

A/N: As promised. Six in one go. I'm sorry for a spam, but hopefully this forces me to post the rest. Lmk if I should stop while I'm ahead.

The Highlord and her mother were mated.

Mates.

What every fae craved and yearned for. The ultimate love match. Mated they may have been, but love was another question. The Highlord would boast stories of their great love. A great love indeed. So great her mother stayed up in the mountains most of the time barely attempting to play court with him.

Rayven couldn't blame her after what happened. Maybe they did love each other. Until Rava.

She was supposed to be Rayven’s twin.

Twins, Madja eagerly told their mother. Rhys remembered when she announced her pregnancy with them. Rava and Maevan were to be their names. Fae offspring were rare, Illyrian offspring even more, so twin Illyrians were unheard of. When they got the news, as Rhys explained, they couldn't have been happier. Their mother was ecstatic every visit with Madja for progress details until one appointment when she had lost the heartbeat of one of the babes. Rava had been absorbed by Rayven and her power. Her first and most egregious crime that cascaded through her entire life. She would never live down having killed her sister.

Madja said it happens sometimes. Her power grew, like Rhys’, inside their mother, but Rhys was alone in the womb, with no other fetus to compete with. As Rayven’s power swelled, Rava had not progressed at the same rate, so Madja said the stronger fetus absorbed the other. Only she was born, they didn't even have a corpse to bury. Rayven had taken that from them too.

She was given the name Rayven by her father upon birth to serve as a reminder of the life she took, and the shame she would always carry because of it. They didn't think her mother was going to be able to deliver her through her grief and when Rayven came out they say she didn't touch her for several days.

She couldn't blame her. Her body became a gravesite and it's Rayven’s fault. No one is more aware of the tragedy than her.

Soon after her birth a single shadow appeared. Madja had cursed and spit seeing her next to her in her crib. Madja didn't take a liking to the shadows.

Rahne was the first word she had said that Rayven could understand. Some speculated she was the soul of her dead sister, trapped by Rayven in silent servitude.

Rahne had never been silent a day in her little life. She never spoke in more than a few syllables, but she loved to parrot.

Rayven had put effort into separating Rahne from Rava, pleading her case that Rava had never appeared to her, but they were set on their truth. Rayven was the scary, violent Illyrian half-breed bitch so jealous of her sister she killed her in the veil before life.

So scary she became. Having a kill under her belt before her first breath. No Illyrian male could say the same.

Her parents had never been the same after that, Rhys told her. She blamed him, he blamed her, and Rayven blamed the cauldron. It was the real cruel one, giving and taking away a mother’s child.

The night they would’ve turned ten, they gathered at the House of Wind for Rava’s vigil. Not Rayven’s birthday. He never allowed a celebration for her birth on Rava’s commemoration, though Rhys had found ways to make it more than a day of grief after the Highlord took his leave for the night.

On that particular death day, he had been disturbed from first light. This anniversary was different to him, and bothered him more than she’d ever seen. He walked into the living room of the Town House, took one look at the modest decorations the boys had attempted, and snapped.

She wasn't Rava, and she wasn’t Maevan. He didn't make Rava’s death about her or even Rayven, it was about him, and the heirs he lost that day. He was not consoling to her mother who had lived it more than any of them. He took their effort as a serious offense to his ‘loss.’ It was never about Rava.

He pinned the boys in their place with his power. He wasn't daemati, or Illyrian, but he wasn't the Highlord for nothing. He was skilled in charms and spells. Incantations of another language they never learned. Rhys was powerful, more powerful than the Highlord, but he hadn't been as clever yet. The Highlord had binded the boys with his greeting when they entered the house. His twisted incantations kept them in place. They could only move upon being released by his word.

Her father yoked her up from the couch next to Rhys, frozen. Their mother’s tears streamed down her face, pleading with her mate to let her daughter stay. By the hair, he dragged her out of the house and tossed her down the steps to the icy stone.

“Go.”

“Dad, please,” she begged on her knees. “I don't-”

“You may seek out Lord Devlon of Windhaven.” The only hint he’d given her.

Windhaven. Leagues across the Night Court. A length the boys could traverse easily, but she could barely fly in the daylight and couldn't winnow yet. There was no way Rayven would’ve made it if Eris hadn't found her.

“Rhys!” She cried over and over. Even before she called for her mother, she knew Rhys wasn't going to be held for long. Once he and the bastards were free they would come after her.

“Silence.” His voice had that prenatural volume it took when he was speaking a spell.

“Daddy, please,” She barely choked out.

“You are no longer welcome in my court.”

His word was law when he spoke like that.

It was the last time Rayven would ever be on her knees.

And the last time she would call him dad.

The Highlord ordered Cassian and Azriel to not go after her, or he’d take their wings. Rhys had to be bound with some threat he never revealed.

It was the first time Rhys had manipulated the Highlord’s mind. Rhys wasn't as skilled at it as he is now. He couldn't rewrite everything without melting his brain, but he was slowly able to plant more and more ideas inside. After the first year of her banishment he had made progress. He was closer to convincing the Highlord he needed Rayven to keep up appearances in court. People would begin to question her sudden disappearance. He spun stories of her great power down the gossip of the court. She was away to train, he lied.

The Highlord had come up with the idea to allow her at big events and important court councils. She was never allowed to speak and only ever seen long enough to count her attendance. Then, she was to return to Illyria until he called upon her again.

Rhys had worked for over a year to get the Highlord to think it was his idea. It was what Rhys could manage to save her with his two brothers still trapped with the Highlord. He truly honed his daemati skills over that first year, gently persuading their father to lessen her banishment.

The Highlord told them if she could find her way to the Illyrian camps and earn rank among the males in the frigid mountains then he would consider her coming back officially. It had been over six decades and she never touched a ring in her time up there.

She rarely appreciated her cottage, but then she would remember where the boys were and wondered who really suffered that night. Her house wasn't enchanted with perfect temperature, or warded with magic locks, but it was entirely hers.

It was nothing more than four walls when she found it. Not even a complete roof remained.

Over the years, she had learned to make it her own. She eventually added more rooms and a second story that took her almost a decade to perfect. Rhys could only stay for short periods of time when the Highlord sent him. Every time he showed up and she collapsed another wall in anger he would give her shit for it. He said her real power was her affinity for demolitions. She swore at him and he helped her fix it.

Rayven’s favorite spot had to be her crows nest. She fashioned a single, thin rail with one prong protruding from the tip for her to sit or stand. It was uncomfortable, but she was the only one who could balance on it. If someone wanted her they’d have to be able to fly and maintain a small hover area. Most males couldn't manage suspended flight for long.

It was her perch she missed most sitting at the dining table in the Town House.

The Highlord sat at the head of the table with her mother to his left and Rhys to his right. A few other highly placed council members sat between them. Cassian, Azriel, and Rayven sat at the opposite end. Today, she was no more than a bastard in his eyes.

It could be excused, their separation. They had wings that needed extra room and Rhys usually kept his hidden.

Cassian sat to her left shielding her from some reeking older fae. She was on the very end of the table, across from Azriel.

He was the picture of disciplined boredom in this company while his shadows moved fluidly around his shoulders. Azriel wasn't going to participate here, but he never stopped watching.

She shared a glance with Rhys as the Highlord stood to retell the catastrophic events of Rava’s death.

Here he goes, he said.

Rayven’s lips twisted to the side to keep from smiling. She decided to keep her sights on the shadowsinger across her. He was equally uninterested in hearing the Highlord drone on about his broken heart.

For forcing all of them to mourn his loss with him, he rarely ever mentioned Rava. It was the same old speech about how his possession was taken from him and blah, blah, blah.

It was sixty-four years to the day of her initial banishment. She was numb to his stale venom at this point. She just had to make it through the toasting and then she was free to disappear back to her mountains.

Rahne wasn't paying attention either. She and one of Azriel’s shadows played by their feet under the table. Rayven ducked her chin to check on her shadow but she was shooting around her ankles.

Shit.

She looked up to the Highlord with a glass raised and went to hold hers when the bastards froze. Going completely still on their own this time.

The Highlord’s full voice lured her back in. “But this year we celebrate my daughter.”

The eyes of every fae in the room cut to Rayven. She didn't dare try to look at Rhys.

The Highlord’s cup was raised in the air. “Who has secured an alliance with the Spring Court,” he went on. “Strengthening the Night Court’s authority in the seasonal courts.”

She realized he was waiting for her response. She had one heartbeat to decide, she wasted the rest with stunned blinking.

“Your will is mine,” She clipped out. Her voice rose slightly at the end, like a question.

His eyes burned holes through her.

I’m dead. It was a good seven decades.

“To Rayven.” He spoke her name to me for the first time in years.

Everyone tensely sipped their glasses. Rhys put his to his mouth, but didn't tip it back. Cassian raised his for the toast then put it back down without drinking. Azriel never touched his.

Rayven drank hers for something to do. Her hands set the glass down too hard and it drew eyes back to her.

Thankfully, she excused herself without having to argue.

The Highlord wasn't daemati, but when his cold eyes seized hers, he didn't need to be. They were as loud as him speaking the words.

Later, they said.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #rhys!sister #azriel x rhys!sister #azriel x reader #azriel

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dontmeantobepoliticalbut · 2 years

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At the beginning of July, Nancy Davis started feeling nauseous. The Baton Rouge resident considered COVID-19 or the flu, then decided to take a pregnancy test just in case. She saw the two blue lines denoting a positive test and ran to the living room to tell her boyfriend. They were both elated.

But their happiness was short-lived. At the first ultrasound, at Woman’s Hospital, the largest birthing center in Louisiana, the technician looked troubled and left the room. A woman in a white coat entered. Davis knew that wasn’t good.

The doctor pointed to the top of the head. There was no skull, she told Davis, an unsurvivable condition. The doctor tried to comfort her, saying this was one of the conditions that qualifies as an exception under the state’s abortion laws. Davis, about 10 weeks into her pregnancy, was still heartbroken.

“There was nothing I would have preferred more than to have this baby,” said Davis, 36. Instead, she prepared herself to pay an estimated $5,000 for an abortion at the hospital.

But that’s not what happened. Even after doctors at the hospital said they would provide an abortion once she got the diagnosis of acrania, a rare and fatal condition, from a specialist, the hospital called to tell her it would not be able to do it, she said. The hospital directed her to a Florida abortion clinic instead, or to carry the baby to term.

'MEDICALLY FUTILE'

Davis' predicament illustrates the gray area in Louisiana's new abortion law and the administrative regulations that attempt to explain it to medical professionals and the public. They all but forbid abortion, except to save the life of the mother or when the fetus is "medically futile," according to a list of conditions issued by the state.

Acrania does not appear on the state’s list of accepted conditions for abortion. But the state also has a broad exception for any “profound and irremediable congenital or chromosomal anomaly existing in the unborn child that is incompatible with sustaining life after birth in reasonable medical judgment.”

Two physicians must sign off on the anomaly. But Woman’s still said it would not perform the abortion.

“In the absence of additional guidance, we must look at each patient’s individual circumstances and remain in compliance with all current state laws to the best of our ability,” said Caroline Isemann, a hospital spokesperson, in a statement.

That's not how some doctors have interpreted the law.

'THEY JUST WON'T FUNCTION'

“Acrania, to me, is synonymous with anencephaly, and it’s on the list,” said Dr. Cecilia Gambala, a maternal fetal medicine specialist at Tulane University School of Medicine, referring to another brain and spine defect. “There is no skull.”

Gambala said that even if hospital attorneys were uncomfortable with giving the go-ahead for an abortion based on the acrania diagnosis, they could use the broad exception that the state allows for when a fetus is incompatible with life. And acrania, in Gambala's opinion, meets that description.

"Babies can be born alive, they just won't function," Gambala said. "Their heart might be beating, they can breathe, but they have no brain tissue to actually develop as far as comprehending what's happening or reacting to anything."

GUIDANCE NEEDED

Cases like this will become more common until there is more clarity surrounding the law, whether from legislation, additional guidance from the state Health Department or litigation, said Matthew Brown, a New Orleans-based attorney specializing in health care law.

“The problem is very specific,” Brown said. “And that’s why the law doesn’t address it.”

Brown said the hospital may view the fetus as currently viable because acrania is not immediately fatal and there is still a heartbeat. It also doesn’t immediately endanger the life of the mother, even though the health risks and psychological risks are significant as the pregnancy continues.

Other hospitals may see the situation differently. Until there is more clarity, scenarios like this will continue to play out, he said.

"Any pregnant woman at this point, even the ones [who] are hoping for a healthy child and planning to give birth, is facing additional uncertainty about how they're going to be cared for under bad circumstances because of this law," Brown said.

After seeing a maternal fetal medicine specialist, Davis starting researching the condition on her own. She found devastating images of infants and fetuses who looked like they were missing parts of their heads. She read that babies with acrania are stillborn or die shortly after birth, just like her doctors told her.

“I haven’t run across a case where these babies live,” Davis said.

TIME IS RUNNING OUT

The nearest abortion clinic that can take Davis is an eight-hour drive, and would require a week's stay because she needs a consultation before the procedure.

“I can’t just get up and shoot out; I have kids,” said Davis, who has a 13-year-old and a 1-year-old and no transportation, after a hit-and-run wreck totaled her car a few months back.

Florida also bans abortions after the 15th week of pregnancy, and Davis is now nearing 14 weeks. The next-closest state, North Carolina, is a 15-hour drive.

In desperation, Davis visited Care Pregnancy Clinic, a pregnancy crisis center that discourages abortions, on Flannery Road. Staff gave her information on how to bury the baby and said their prayers were with her.

“It makes me feel horrible, like I’m alone in this,” Davis said. “It makes me feel like they just threw me to the wolves.”

After being told to go to Florida, Davis said she wanted other people to know how laws decided in the Louisiana Legislature play out in real life.

“I never in a million years thought it would affect me like this,” she said. “It seems like Louisiana is the hardest place right now to get that done. They don't even wanna say that word.”

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sonia-marmeladova · 2 years

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“they aren’t persons until birth due to (x) developmental capability”

homie. like idk if you’ve ever been exposed to a newborn child but. they are like a fetus in virtually every single way. not self aware, constantly sleeping, eating, pooping, unable to socialize consciously. a newborn child is still 99% biologically dependent on their caregivers, in a very physical manner - for nutrition and comfort, but also for temperature regulation, breathing regulation. like. they physically need to be on and with their caregivers to live. like. the born distinction is actually not as clear and obvious as you think it is.

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they-are-a-prolife-autist · 11 months

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im new to your blog, i understand your perspective and agree with a lot of things you've said regarding wanting an increase in sex education and safer contraception and support to victims of abuse and orphans, but id also like to present a perspective to you, that in the absence of betterment in everything listed above and in some other situations, abortion is valid, and id like to know your opinion on some of these. a survivor's choice of not wanting to carry their rapist's child to term, especially by risking complications caused by pregnancy like pulmonary embolism and the strain caused by pregnancy on the body along with the triggering of trauma should be respected, its a harrowing and cruel experience and not everyone can choose to continue. ectopic pregnancies and the like where the fetus is doomed require a medical termination of pregnancy, and if there's an option of choosing between the mother and the child then the mother should be prioritised, nothing breaks a family apart quite like the death of a mother and the mother also has a right to life. wanting sex education and availability of contraceptives to improve is a good sentiment but in the absence of such improvements, should the only other way be taken out? hoping to hear what you think soon

Hi Anon! Thanks for the ask and for your kind attitude! It's a breath of fresh air amid all the hateful anons I get on a daily basis! I really appreciate it.

You seem to be coming at this situation for a place of compassion and I can respect that. However in my heart of hearts I cannot believe there is compassion in the intentional taking of a vulnerable human life. A human who has no say, has done no wrong, and is full of potential. I think there are many ways to show compassion and love to victims of rape (like myself,) but I do not believe that enduring suffering gives one a free pass to hand the violence down to another. You say that "in the absence of betterment in everything listed above and in some other situations, abortion is valid," and I have to disagree. In the absence of a society that prioritizes human life we have to be the people who stand up and say "No. We deserve better." Not accept a culture of death and ongoing oppression of women and their children. We live in a world that does not give women the protection they need. Does not provide sufficiently for pregnant mothers, does not accommodate pregnancy, and has failed to protect victims of rape. Should our unborn children suffer death at our hands because of of societies failings? Do two wrongs make a right?

In the second half of your ask you are talking about medical priority and ectopic pregnancy, which is not the same procedure as an abortion and the major majority of prolifers will agree is a non-applicable situation. In fact you will find that ectopic pregnancy treatments are explicitly excluded from bills that ban abortions, or aren't mentioned at all; because again, it's a different medical procedure. When only one life can be saved, doctors choose the strongest, or most likely to live, which is always the adult in these cases. These instances are always tragic, as it is always tragic when a life cannot be saved. But this is not the same as a procedure that exists for the explicit purpose of violently and brutally ripping a human to pieces, or poisoning them to death. That choice is not a valid choice to make. Saving one life over another is not the same as intentionally killing someone. I definitely encourage you to research medical priority and what tends to happen when such a choice must be made. I believe family also gets a say, but I could be wrong on that front.

#tw #pro life #i am the prolife generation #prolife #politics #roe v wade #prolife feminism #prolife feminist #womens rights #feminism

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fortheloveofexy · 9 months

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76. Did you have any ideas that didn’t make the final cut of [into the deep]? 🫶🏻

Oh yes, plenty!! There are some I can't talk about because spoilers, and there are some that won't make it into the main fic (at least, not directly) but they will appear in some of the spin-off one-shots from Andrew's POV.

One thing that I can tell you about is some of the background lore on merfolk biology. This is a tiny sneak peek of what will be in my full writing notes PDF.

Merfolk Biology

Merfolk biology consists of an amalgamation of traits from humans, dolphins, spiny fish and sharks. While their tails, scales and dorsal fins are similar to that of many bony fish species, they have intelligence equal to that of humans and dolphins, and like dolphins are capable of echolocation. Like sharks, they have an impressive healing factor and their immune systems are quite strong.

They are overall tougher and harder than humans are and, like sharks have a higher pain tolerance. Their teeth, while similar to those of humans, do have some differences. They have eight canine teeth instead of four, and their teeth are more resistant to bacteria.

However, they lose their baby teeth and grow in their adult teeth the same way that humans do. Their lungs are also almost identical to humans’, as are their hands and upper body skeletal structures, leading some experts to believe that they may have at one point branched off from human evolution and returned to the seas. In comparison, their gills are quite rudimentary, and thus are theorized to be a more recent adaptation brought about by mers migrating into deeper waters in order to avoid contact with humans.

Life Cycle

Merfolk, like humans, give birth to live young. Baby mers (known as “merlings”). Due female mers having a narrower birth canal, merlings have a shorter gestation period than a human fetus (5 months) and are born about half the size of a human infant. Their gills do not work very well for their first few hours of life, and so adult mers (usually their parents) will help them breathe until their gills are fully opened. Merlings are not capable of swimming independently on their own until they are a year old, so they will cling to their parents dorsal fins.

Mer pods will also often give birth in shallower waters where they can easily surface, or in underwater caves with natural air pockets, as this shelters their young from some of their most dangerous predators. However, humanity’s continued attempts to hunt them has made this practice much more risky.

Much like humans, it takes merfolk a long time to reach full adulthood, and so pods are structured around communal child-rearing and caretaking of merlings is shared amongst all adult mer.

Variations

There are two known varieties of merfolk – reef mer, whom are more commonly found in shallow waters and sport colorful, vibrant scales, and deep sea mer, whom are often plainer and darker in color, but also have bioluminescent markings on their cheeks, fins and tail.

While there are a few differences in these two types of mer, they are not considered genetically different enough to be different species, and their diets and behaviors are considered to be largely the same. As such, they can and occasionally do interbreed, though it should be noted that pods are largely not intermixed between the two types. This is mostly due to their differences in their preferred habitats, though some reef mer do regard deep sea mer with some suspicion and wariness.

#asks #ask crow

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thekoopalingsandstuffs · 2 months

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When was spewart diagnosed with cvs and ptsd?

When did hariet get her epilepsy and menstrual problems diagnosis?

And toppers oab/asthma?

Rango doesn't seem to have anything so uh...good job!

Spewart: "Good question... I got diagnosed with PTSD very recently by my therapist. It's not just from one event, but rather a collection of different traumatic things I've experienced in my life that continues to grow. Dr. Twila is not actually 100% sure I have it, though... "Fairly certain, but not absolute." I don't take meds for it, minus my antidepressants... And I've been to the psyche ward a couple of times throughout my life... Um... As for my CVS... That's more of a self-diagnosis that I got a doctor to agree with. I didn't puke that much when I was younger... Only on car rides n' stuff. But I'd say about four years ago, I started getting sick all the time. Once a week, I'd get out of school for a vomiting episode. If I ate something slightly too greasy, spicy, or with a little too much dairy, I'd vomit everything back up. And sometimes, I throw up, just, because. Not much is known about CVS, so there's not much I can do minus take a bunch of Pepto Bismol before I eat. Which, rarely does anything... All of us have TONS of medical issues, varying in severity. I assume you just picked the two we're most known for...? Well, thank you, Anon! We don't get to really talk about our issues often." :3

Hariet: "I don't remember it, but when I was in, maybe, the fourth grade... I sat down to watch a new TV show that had come out. Not sure what it was, but it had flashing lights and crazy sounds and things like that... Well, one of my brothers found me, on the floor, twitching, pupils dilated, frothing at the mouth, unresponsive... I got taken to the hospital, my family was informed that I had had a seizure, and later got diagnosed with epilepsy the same week, when I had another seizure, attempting to watch the show again. As for my menstrual stuff... For those who don't know, I got my first period when I was seven, which is... Not normal! And I get LOTS of pain, LOTS of blood, and it lasts for a LONG time. Still not normal!! I got a uterine scan in the seventh grade... I'm not sure exactly what was found, but I have some kind of deformity in my uterus that's causing abnormal periods. And also, I CAN get impregnated, but it's unlikely the fetus will survive... I am... Scared to try birth control, and I have hope that maybe this issue will go away on its own eventually, so I just have to DEAL WITH IT."

Topper: "I think I got diagnosed with asthma in the beginning of middle school... There's multiple potential causes for it—Living in foster homes with smokers, getting choked in fights a lot, allergies, air pollution, moldy rooms, simple genetics, etcetera. There was cause for concern when I suddenly started struggling to breathe and almost passed out in gym class one day. Been needing an inhaler on me at all times since. Okay, and I've always had OAB, ever since I was a baby but never got it officially diagnosed until VERY recently. As a kid, most of my foster parents assumed that my accidents were from me being irresponsible, not listening to my body, and intentionally holding until the last minute. It couldn't possibly be not my fault! And the ones that did know something was wrong with me never took me to the doctor; They gave me diapers and called it a day. Thankfully, my issues are WAY less bad than they used to be. But one day, I got curious, Googled my symptoms, took them to a doctor, and sure enough! I officially got an OverActive Bladder! Yay me?"

Rango: :D

Yeah, unless you count Rango's ADD and lack of arm, he has not much going on compared to his siblings. But, of course, there is that "mystery illness" he's dealing with~... I also headcanon that Rango had a shitty immune system & got sick a lot as a child to make up for his lack of serious problems.

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ashkav · 3 months

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Mama, the inverted stillmother

Kojima loves his parallels. Higgs and Sam (the "tom and jerry" archetype he made a tweet about), the two Lous (self explanatory), Amelie and Cliff (the parents at war). Mama herself already has a natural double in her twin, Lockne.

but she's also an inversion of a concept the game doesn't mention much: stillmothers.

a stillmother is where BBs come from, a pregnant brain-dead woman whose fetus is removed and sealed in a pod. this teetering between life and death, the unborn child taken from a functionally dead mother, is what allows the BBs to function like they do, making a bridge between the living and the dead and not only seeing BTs but allowing others to see them too via a connection with the umbilical cord. the stillmother and BB maintain their connection through womb data, which is essential to the BBs continued health, as it must always believe it is in its mother's womb.

Mama is the opposite: a mother birthing a child that dies in the same instance, a BT before the umbilical cord was even cut. this tethers the BT to her instead of the other side, but it also holds her in stasis. she's not dead but not really living either, and the tension of the cord pulling in both directions is the only thing that's keeping her breathing. once it's cut, the snap back kills her.

where BBs are in constant portable motion, facilitating connection, Mama is stationary, solitary, disconnected from her sister because of her condition. both metaphorically and literally, Mama lives for the dead. in a way, she's also a more extreme reflection of Sam, or maybe a warning to him, where reconnection with the living literally saves her soul.

the BT baby is literally an attempt at connection gone wrong. the baby that was meant to be raised by both Lockne and Malingen, that was meant to bridge the divide between living a dead by being made from what was left of Lockne's lover, died, severing all of those connections permanently. that this is practically the only other child character we see in the game apart from Sam and BB seems important. Sam and the BT baby were both children that were meant to create personal bonds at their birth/ removal from the pod, Cliff and Lisa (and even a severing of bonds if we consider Cliff Vs Bridget and in lesser part, John/ Die-Hardman), the BT connecting the the sisters and the dead husband. but BB 28 is collective child, impersonal, working for the future of the whole. only once BB 28 has completed her job and reconnected the whole of America is she allowed to become Lou, the personal child, only required to connect herself and Sam.

children connect the collective, but cannot be relied upon to connect the personal for anyone but their own sake, maybe?

in any case, Mama is fooling herself, same as the BB must be fooled to continue on. she knows her child must return to the other side, that she is no longer the BT baby's mother in anything but name only, but she holds onto that umbilical cord with both hands, until she literally can't anymore, until she realises that her connection with the living has to be rekindled for the sake of America and the chiral network, her life's work.

#death stranding #mama death stranding #malingen #lockne #lou #bb 28 #sam bridges #character analysis #? i guess

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roguekhajiit · 18 hours

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A debate I had on Reddit about abortion rights.

The person I'm arguing with is an active participant of the Mensa subreddit, so they already fancy themselves a genius to some extent.

Me:

No arms, no legs, no heart, no brain. Just a blood vessel pumping blood from the host to the clump of cells.

And the "But there's a heartbeat" excuse is a lie. You're only hearing the host's blood pumping into cells cause the heart isn't fully formed until 10 weeks. Additionally, the brain isn't even fully developed until 24 weeks. No heart organ, no brain, it's not a viable life outside its host body.

Them:

Yeah that's an empirical argument to deny ontology. That's not convincing to anyone who thinks there is an essence to being human that isn't tied to having arms and legs.

Me:

I'm sorry, but are you trying to use philosophy to argue whether or not someone is capable of living without a heart, brain, and lungs?

Them:

How do you determine what is human and what is not? Arms and legs? What do you call someone without arms and legs? Or a mechanic heart? You can't answer the question 'what is human' based on physical qualities only. So yes, logically you cannot answer the question without philosophy.

Me:

I think you are confusing personhood with the human species.

A person is someone who can think, breathe, and exist on their own. They have a personality and their own opinions on subjects like abortion.

A human being or homo sapiens is a species on earth that evolved enough to form social groups and cultures and, therefore, are capable of personhood. Some other more complex animals might be capable of personhood, like Koko the Gorilla. She was intelligent, learned to communicate using sign language, and even had her own pet.

I'm not discussing this subject in terms of personhood. A fetus isn't developed enough to form a sense of personhood if it can't even survive on its own at 2 months gestation.

Them:

I'm talking about the essence of what makes one a living human. As long as pregnant women before the 3rd month believe they're carrying a child, which is all of them who want to *keep* the child, I am not appealed by the argument that it's suddenly no longer a child but rather a fetus for biological/scientific/empirical reasons when there are various financial and social advantages of it being so.

The points you mention are even still different from mine.

Me:

>The points you mention are even still different from mine.

Correct because again, you fail to see the point of the argument.

You yourself say;

>As long as pregnant women before the 3rd month believe they're carrying a child, which is all of them who want to *keep* the child,

That's all fine and dandy cause it's her *choice* to do so, not yours and not the government's. But it's not yours or anyone else's place to force your philosophical or religious views on an entire nation and bully us all into following them by making your opinions a law.

Them:

It's a choice to recognise a human as a human, you're saying? So where's the end to that travesty of logic? A cat is a dog, a man is a woman, that dog is a man and that man is a dog. That's a wild world you're living in. I don't see the world that way, it defeats both logic and common sense. But it surely makes a way to justify doing whatever the hell you like doing. I won't force morality on you, but I'll tell you when it's absent.

Me:

Again, you're trying to use philosophy to argue science, and that gets us nowhere. I already stated I'm not talking from a philosophical standpoint.

You can see the world however you want. Your morals aren't always going to line up with your neighbors morals. Your neighbor might think it's immoral to eat any kind of meat. Are you gonna give up that steak dinner cause they can smell it in their living room? How would you feel if the entire government decided eating meat is a crime and, therefore, it's banned and you go to jail just for eating a hamburger. Kinda sucks when other people force their philosophy and religion on you by passing laws to get their way.

Now I know you're gonna be like, "But you can't compare pregnancies to diets!" But you're already equating philosophy with science. So, let me give you another scenario.

Do you like eggs? Eggs are just undeveloped chickens who were denied the ability to develop and hatch. Will you give up your eggs and bacon just because your vegan neighbor says it's immoral?

Since to you personhood and human are one and the same. Say aliens decide to visit earth; they have arms and legs and a brain, can speak, express emotions, and have their own culture. Are they human? Do we give them the same rights as you and me even though they weren't born on earth and are basically invading our planet? Or are they just displaying personhood?

If you say yes, they are human and deserve the same rights as you and me, then you also need to give those same rights to the "illegal aliens" that cross the border.

Why are undeveloped fetuses given more rights to life than families with children who are trying to seek a better life? Why do we value a fetus over the actual baby? Once it's born, if the mother says she needs help, she's scorned and looked down on for asking for WIC, foodstamps, and cash benefits to help feed and cloth her baby. She should have thought of that before deciding to have a baby, right? But if she decides she's unable to afford a baby, and she can't afford to take time off because the pregnancy is making it hard for her to work, she's called a murderer for seeking an abortion.

To pro-life advocates, a fetus is more important before it's born than after it's born. And you won't convince me otherwise. The same people pushing for abortion bans, banning mifepristone (a drug that's also necessary to help with incomplete miscarriages), and even simple birth control are the same people who vote to cut funding to welfare programs, free lunch programs, and to entire school districts. That's not very pro-life of them now, is it?

-------

They gave up the argument after that.

I could have converted this into a rant solely from my perspective, but I felt it would be better just to copy it as a script.

Pro-lifers are not actually pro-life. They are just anti-women and anti-choice. If they actually cared about the fetus, they would care about it after its born by passing laws and regulations that would ensure the child has the best quality of life possible and every chance to succeed. Instead, time and again, they vote against those laws.

They don't care about the fetus once it's born. Why is that? Could it be that their true goal all along is to force women back into submission because they romanticize the bygone era of the 1800s and early 1900s when women didn't hold jobs, didn't vote, and couldn't do anything without their husband's explicit permission?

I dunno, that's just the vibe I get from the anti-choice supporters. Why else would they say things like, "Stop riding dick if you can't take accountability." But then start foaming at the mouth when you remind them accountability goes both ways. When's the last time they made a child support payment?

#pro life is anti-women #reddit #reddit rants #pro choice #personal rant #rants #rant #long post #long rant #my body my choice #abortion is a human right #abortion is healthcare #abortion rights #reproductive freedom #reproductive rights

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