#Cn pregnancy

[scentedluminarysoul]

Duuude

I just saw a commercial for a pregnancy test

Where the woman hoped for a negative!!!

That's huge! I've never seen that! Usually they're so happy and hoping to be preggers!

Ahh I feel seen!

[enullarts]

cn // tmpreg, birth, balder's gayte

fic about gale and astarion welcoming their daughter into the world. Gale is a trans man!

The latest addition of the Dekarios' line arrived one stormy and rainy night in the wizard of waterdeep's very own home. Not that this was planned of course, he had come up with a birth plan which involved a hospital, with healers at the ready considering his age and the babe being that of mixed origins.

However, the weather and the babe seemed to conspire against his own plans and just as he entered the transition stage the clouds went dark and a storm came down the likes of which the city had not seen in a while.

Gale groaned painfully as he leaned forward on his knuckles, his hips lifting and lowering, moving in a circular motion in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure off his pelvis. He had read all the books on pregnancy; human and elven. Even monsterous, just in case. But the practice differed greatly from theory he was beginning to find. His brow was damp with sweat and the small hairs that couldn't be slicked back clung to his forehead as he released a breath he hadn't known he had been holding and the pressure released. Though he knew it would only be a matter of minutes, maybe even less before it would return.

"Astarion?" He called out for his spouse, slowly moving himself into a more kneeling position and adjusting his robe. He was becoming quite agitated wearing this much while being so hot already. But he wanted to be dressed in case Astarion was successful in obtaining transport to the hospital. Honestly, he would Magick them a portal but the birth was taking up more energy than expected. Plus if he couldn't talk during a contraction he wouldn't be able to cast spells.

When he heard no reply to his call he inhaled a little deeper to call out louder this time. "Astarion!"

"I'm afraid Astarion is still out, mr. Dekarios. He is trying to track down a carriage to get you to the hospital." Tara fluttered down onto the bed next to Gale and gently bumped her head against his hip, purring gently. "Is there anything I can do?"

Gale couldn't help but chuckle, reaching out to scratch Tara gently under her chin like she prefered. "Dear Tara, I'm afraid my current condition cannot be helped by anyone but me and my husband." He bit his lower lip in thought, a hand going to his dissented abdomen, reaching down to the base of it and feeling the weight of the baby there. "Although I suppose, in the end it will mostly be me resolving thiiiIiahhhh...."

The wizard blew out the rest of that breath harshly before inhaling again hurriedly. The contractions were nearly on top of each other now and the pressure once again returned with a vengeance. He leaned forward onto his arms again, his rear lifting to rock in an attempt to alleviate the pain. Beside him, Tara lay down quietly, intelligently infering her friend needed quiet to concentrate on the task at hand.

Gale's vocalisations had become deeper and more intoning with each sound, his face burned from both effort and embarrassment from the noises he couldn't help but make in the face of these overwhelming sensations crashed through him. Finally the pressure peaked and-

Gale felt it before it was visible but his body quickly caught up, slowly but surely the bottoms of his brown pants turned dark with fluid and Gale roared through the last of the contraction. Without the bag of waters the pressure increased tenfold and along came a new, desperate sensation.

"Oh, Mystra guide my hand..." Gale sobbed, begged almost, as he pawed at his pants to undo them and get them off, but failing before the urge became too great and he grunted heavily as he gave his first real push.

A minute passed and when it did Gale quickly set about undoing his pants, a worried look meeting Tara's. "Tara, please, find Astarion... I, I think I'm pushing.. the baby is coming Now."

Tara's nose scrunched up as she peered out the window behind her friend, the weather was absolutely terrible, storm winds and rains but glancing back at her friend she shook her wings out with some concern. "Well... I do suppose this is the type of emergency one should be willing to get their feathers and fur wet for. ... I shall return soon, mr. Dekarios." She came up to him and bumped him once more for good luck, slow blinking at him lovingly. "You'll be alright, my dear. Your instincts are rarely wrong."

With that she sprung into action and left the bedroom, out the door and into the cold night to seek out the vampire who had bewitched her faithful companion and induced this state upon him.

it was a relief to know Tara would bring his husband back soon, but then came the realisation that he was now, truly, all by himself... and about to give birth to a baby. A pang of fear hit his chest, but he had no time to think more on it as his belly tightened once again and with a hiss the man bore down once again, a hand reaching down to cup his lips and check his progress. He didn't feel anything near his entrance yet, which made sense considering he just started pushing, but it still upset him somewhat. He wanted to meet his baby.

Another push followed, and another, and another.

Rolling waves of pressure crashed down over Gale like the wind gusts and rain upon the windows as if with each shove Gale gave internally the weather responded in time. Eventually, blessedly, he finally felt just the tiniest sliver of the head beginning to emerge from his folds, followed by a burning sensation.

"Oh, Gods, help me..." Gale whispered desperately as he attempted to pull himself together again after the last position change. His arms had gotten tired from holding up his weight so he now sat in a squat on the bed, propped up by the pillows. Tara had been gone for a while now and still hadn't returned with his husband, he was beginning to worry something had happened to them.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, the task at hand required a hundred percent of his attention and before he could really ruminate on it he was back to pushing.

"nnghhhhh.... gghhhahh.. oufhh.." He let out a deep breath before inhaling and bearing down once more, he could feel himself progress now, the baby's head stretching him further, the widest point was just coming up now. He just had to keep going.. "ngg- ah- AH!"

With a gasp the head emerged with a splash of fluid right into their father's waiting hand. Gale let his head fall back against the pillows and blinked away some tears, but other tears had already fallen as the oxytocin worked its way through his system. Relief, love, belonging, that was his baby that he was cradling in his hand. His heart swelled with excitement even if he was fearful of being alone while this was happening.

One more contraction came and went with little progress much to Gale's dismay, the shoulders where quite sharp and it was difficult to rotate the baby on his own even with two hands, he couldn't tell what he was doing. Tears of fear pricked at his eyss again.

"Come on, love ... please help, papa here... oughh..." His face scrunched up as he tried to give another shove, the shoulders moving forward slightly but always retreating again by the end. He was at his wits end. "Ooh.. oh... please.." His head rolled to one side as his eyes closed, attempting to rest. "Oh Gods, help me..."

A commotion of sounds came from the living room and Gale's eyes snapped open to the sight of an absolutely drenched and ravaged Astarion, holding an equally disheveled Tara. "Gods!" Astarion complained, throwing his hood off his head, his hair was soaked flat. "There are no carriages whatsoever. And the wind nearly blew Tara halfway across Waterdeep, I-"

The sight of his beloved whimpering, his eyes shut tight and in the middle of what appeared to be quite an intense push, baby's head out but the shoulders seemingly unwilling seemed to kill all other words of complaint Astarion had as he uncerimoneously dropped the thressym (who luckily always lands on her feet) and rushed to shrug off his outdoor cloak and gloves to place his hands over Gale's cupping their child. His voice shaking as he asked: "What can I do?"

Gale hissed, breathing through his current contraction rather than pushing as he had found the last few times unhelpful. 'H-help me turn them... shoulders..."

Astarion looked down at the little babe between his beloved's legs, noticing the little white hairs on their head and the floppy ears of a newborn elf, he couldn't help but marvel at it. But soon enough Gale's miserable groan brought him back to his senses and he cupped the baby's head gently with both his hands, reaching onto their little jaw and what was visible of their neck to have a firm hold and gently began rotating the baby's head when Gale gave a whimpering push.

Under Astarion's careful guidance (Bless Halsin for that), the shoulders finally rotated and freed themselves followed by the rest of the baby, right into Astarion's waiting hands. Marveling at the sight of her he quickly placed the new half-elfling against Gale's chest, still robed as he did not have the time nor mental capacity to disrobe during everything. The baby immediately letting out a loud wail. "Gods, Gale..."

Gale smiled at him tearily before looking down at the little elven girl. "She's perfect."

Outside the wizard tower in Waterdeep the storm had let up, giving way to a clear sky with a bright full moon.

[itsagrimm]

He Who Comes from Under the Water

Chapter 7 - The Knife

Monster!König X she/her afab Reader

CN  Pressure of having children, emotional midlife crisis of a dead woman (it sounds funny, but I made myself cry writing that part), grieving dead family members. Discussions of female* relationship issues in hetero relationships, implied talk of rape, implied forced pregnancy, talk of sexual assault and rape in relationships, talk of forced marriage, mentions of drowning and past trauma, pregnancy as body horror. Implications of potential abortions using herbs (don’t try this at home).

eventual smut.

Notes for better understanding at the bottom!

Beta-read by @queenquazar. thanks having me despite my extreme questioning if this is actually good. I wrote half of this while having a slight fever and it shows.

5k words

Masterlist

You remembered your mother as a beautiful woman. The edge of life and age had polished her, making her shine brighter year by year, until the day she died. With her back to you, she stood in the kitchen, working on something as you entered the room as you had so many times before.

“Is it you, daughter?”

You missed her voice. She sounded so real, the memories coming back as those words rang bright and happy, while she turned to greet you.

“Dear, we haven’t seen each other for too long.”

Her face was like you remembered it. Maybe.

“Let me look at you. Are you eating well? Sleeping well? You need to take breaks in the sun. Soon, it will be too cold to stay out again.”

You nodded to the beautiful, kind, stranger called mother.

“Sit down, daughter. Tell me, have you found a husband? Is he treating you well? A good young man from the village or maybe from a bit further away?”

You let yourself get pushed onto one of the familiar chairs, the wood of the rest pushing into your back, and a cup of tea being placed before you.

“I’m about to be married. I… he… he is good to me.”

“And what does he do?” A friendly but practical look danced over ‘Mothers’ face.

Nervously, you fumbled with the tablecloth before placing your hands flat on the table, “Uhm- he is really good at fishing, and currently he is building a new home.”

'Mother' nodded.

“A fisherman and carpenter. Hm. Hm. It’s good to have a capable man in the family. He better give you beautiful children or I’ll haunt him.”

“Uhm- I’m not sure that will happen.”

“Of course, it will. You will love it,” The stranger chuckled. “Or more like you will be loved. For a while at least.”

“And then what?”

The stranger shrugged her shoulders.

“Then you turn older. And wiser, so you will know what you want. And stronger, so you will ask for it. And then you know how to move or dress to feel beautiful. And he will hate it. You will be loved no more, except by your children and the other women. So have children. And friends.” ‘Mother’ nodded. “That’s how it goes, daughter. You say he is a good man?”

“Yes?” A strange feeling weighed you down deep in your stomach. A feeling of doubt, despite your decision to stay with König. “Are you saying he isn’t?”

“How should I know? I am dead. Just do what I did. It wasn’t too bad. Right? I had you. And I loved you until I died.”

You looked across the table. ‘Mother’ smiled softly, looking down at her hands like a shy girl admitting a secret. She was a stranger. She had lived with you in this house, every day you could recall. And yet you had hardly known her. Was that what she had wanted? Staying in the house and watching her children grow, only to have them leave one day when they did not need her anymore? Or had she stayed because she could not imagine anything else? Because she did not dare to leave?

You could not help but reach over the table, taking your mothers’ hands.

There was not a thing in the world you would back down from to protect the woman that had given you a life. And your heart ached with the realisation that it was too late for her.

But maybe not for you.

“Right, mother. I love you too.”

You opened your eyes, staring at the familiar ceiling. Getting up was out of the question. Instead you laid there, tears filling up your eyes before slowly running down to the side of your face.

The dream felt too real to simply brush it aside. Instead, you wanted nothing more than to have your mother back, hold her, talk to her, and give her all the things she had ever wanted from life. It was unfair how she had given you so much and all you could give her was … what exactly? Your mother was dead. It mattered little what she had expected of you, wished for you… or herself. You could do how you pleased; the villagers had shunned you anyways. That freedom however, felt hollow without the woman who had sacrificed so much for you.

And was it wise to use that freedom for König?

Doubt crept up in you, the possibility of death and sadness, present once more.

Was there a life without marriage?

Where you could leave, live, and maybe love, how you wanted, without fear or fighting to survive?

A knock woke you from your melancholy thoughts.

“Who is it?” You called as you sat up and wiped away your tears while turning to the door.

“Wrong direction, darling. Check the window!” A stranger’s voice called out.

Confused, your head whipped around. A woman was before your window, staring directly at you.

How is that possible? You could not help yourself but wonder at the sight of someone peeking through your upstairs window.

The woman waved at you.

“Hi, People call me Baba Yaga but I prefer Farah. That no-good-wet-little-king-and-fiancé-of-yours asked me to come here to help.”

You rushed to get dressed while König, always on guard these days, waited for you downstairs. As you finished braiding your hair, you stumbled downwards. You knew of Baba Yaga. She was no one to anger or to leave waiting. There were guards and gods out there in the world, elders to be respected and traditions to be followed. And then there was her, putting all of them to shame.

She was the maiden, the mother, the old one to turn to when cursing a former lover or in need of help when slaying a monster. Baba Yaga was the knife - ready to make a pleasant meal or spill blood.

You did not know what to make of Königs decision to call Baba Yaga for help. Was it wise? Or was the price for her help higher than you could afford?

“I’m ready,” You called out as you entered the kitchen. “Oh, wait!” You grabbed a bowl of collected berries, “Can’t go into a house without a present,” You explained.

That would be rude. No one gets away with being rude to Baba Yaga.

König nodded before getting up from his seat, a chair this time.

For a brief moment you saw his eyes wander to his axe leaning at the wall, before he moved on.

He is nervous too.

“It’s gonna be fine.” You tried to reassure him. Or yourself.

König managed a smile before reaching for your hand and holding it, his large clawed hands clasping carefully around yours. 

“I know, Bride. We can do this.”

Together, you stepped out of your home only to see a wooden house on chicken legs in your garden trampling over your sorry attempts of growing buckwheat.

“Great,” You could not help but comment dryly. “How do we move it?”

“Allow me,” König declared before loudly calling out to the house. “Избушка, избушка, повернись ко мне передом, к лесу — задом!”

The house stilled in its light swaying, like a cat that got reprimanded for what it planned on doing.

“Пожалуйста!” König added pleadingly and the house trotted around and tilted forward, appearing oddly unwilling about it.

“Thank you for moving from the field,” you mumbled.

König stepped up to the Chicken-legged-house and knocked on the door while you lingered beside him.

“Honourable Elder, please let us in and hear our words.”

“You made it,” Was all the answer you got before the door flung open. “Finally. I hate waiting.”

In the doorway before you stood Baba Yaga, the woman who had waved at you in the window. Now you knew she had done it from her unusually high and walking house.

“Honourable Elder sounds lovely, but Farah is enough,” She noted and stepped aside. “Come on in. I made tea.”

Carefully you followed König’s soft tug as he helped you up to the high door, lifting you like you weighed as little as the logs he brought you.

Inside, it was just like any other house you had seen. There was a large oven, a table, jars with pickled contents and marmalade everywhere, and a beautiful tapestry with symmetrical flowers on the wall.

“Welcome to my home,” Farah declared and motioned to the table and a few chairs for you to sit.

“Thank you for having us,” You replied politely and passed her the bowl of berries. “I am sorry. It’s not much. But I hope our little gift pleases you.”

“It does. Sit, sister.” Farah gave you an approving nod.

 And so you did, taking a spot next to König, who had chosen one of the chairs which protested loudly, with troubling creaks as he sat down.

Waiting for Farah to finish setting the table, you studied her. She was beautiful and carried herself with confidence. Farah appeared maybe a bit older than you. But you felt like a child getting a visit from an aunt, not some years, but centuries between you two.

“Thank you for having us,” You said with a timid nod as Farah finally sat, intimidated by the powerful stranger. It had been so long since someone new was barely passing the threshold of being just nice to you.

König looked stoically like nothing was out of the ordinary, the little cup of tea looking ridiculously tiny in his massive hands. Being in the presence of powerful beings was nothing unusual for him, you reminded yourself, no matter what - he was one of them.

Farah tugged at her scarf as she sipped from her tea while eyeing the berries before finally releasing you from the awkward silence your words had left in the air.

“You are welcome. It’s a pleasure meeting you.” She  reached for a spoon to casually stir her tea, while avoiding your careful yet curious gaze. “So, you are König’s fiancé? The rumoured Bride of the Vodyanoy?”

“Yes,” You answered plainly.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

She looked up from her cup, her dark eyes finding yours and pinning you to your seat with unforgiving kindness before switching over to König, like a blade slashing around.

“Lovely. What business do I have with that?”

“Oh, none at all,” König interjected smoothly like an eel slipping over wet stones. “We want no trouble with you. Just your blessings.”

Farah leaned back and put down her cup, her eyes piercing through the air like you and König were made out of nothing but thin skin and brittle bone, ready to be dissected and studied. Under her gaze, that likely was true.

“Don’t waste daylight, slime king. I could have spent my time other than coming here.”

“My utmost apologies, honourable Farah,” König continued with a most charming smile. “There is just the issue of my bride's possible death by drowning when she becomes my wife and queen. Do you, by any chance, maybe, possibly-”

“Cut it, König. You want me to waterproof your bride like she is some kind of unsinkable boat. Got it.”

He stilled in his movements before replying, “Yes. Can you do that?”

The honourable Farah sighed as if she had heard that request several times this morning already.

“Is that all? What else do you want me to do, hm? Make the fish sing and dance at your wedding? Build that new palace of yours in one night? Make her a wedding dress while I’m at it?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed,” König snapped back, his charming smile now more frozen than friendly in his face.

“Listen, König. I never took you as wanting to marry. You always looked so content with splashing around the ponds on your own. You did not even care much for the company of your own kin. Why not marry a rusalka? At least they can not drown.”

Uncomfortably, you looked at the cup in your hands, trying to be as invisible from the conversation as possible while gathering as much as you could. The idea of König being with someone else, a beautiful watery creature like himself, shifted something inside you and you did not know where to put it.

“No. I want to marry her. She is my Bride. I promised it.”

His words pearled down like warm summer rain.

He was so sure of it.

“To whom did you promise that?” Farah inquired further.

“Her grandfather. He used to fish at my pond.”

For a brief moment it was silent as you stared into the dark liquid in your cup as if it held the secrets of the universe.

Then Farah broke out laughing.

“That sounds more like you, König.” She gasped. “Acquiring a bride from a fisherman. Alright, that sounds precisely how the King of everything From Under the Water would get married.”

Amused, Farah looked back at you. “Are you happy with that, dear?”

You blinked, like a deer that got stuck between two rivalling wolves. Your eyes wandered to König who had the most trying neutral expression on his face somewhere under all that tangled hair.

“Uhm. I suppose,” You answered, dumbfoundedly. Since when did your happiness and not just your survival matter?

Farah raised one of her eyebrows.

“You suppose…” She repeated and grabbed her cup and spoon. “Get out.”

It was on you to raise your eyebrows.

“I’m sorry?” You questioned, a little fire in you giving you strength. You might have been just a tiny little human with brittle bones and thin skin, but you had tasted kindness again and you weren’t ready to give up on that yet.

“Not you.” Farah waved at you dismissively, “You, yes you heard me, König. Get out before I turn you into a frog. I need to talk to her alone.”

For a moment König stared angrily at Farah to be kicked out of the house like an unwelcome guest.

Then he turned his head and looked at you.

It was terrifying to be alone with Baba Yaga, may she call herself Farah and talk like a pleasant relative coming by for a visit, or not. The woman was powerful. But she had treated you kindly so far. And you needed her. Maybe this was for the better? Perhaps you could convince the powerful Baba Yaga to help you on your own, where König was failing. You could do this.

Smiling the most reassuring smile you could muster, you nodded. 

“I will be fine, König. Can you stay close please?”

König grumbled a ‘of course’ before getting up and exiting the house, leaving you and the Baba Yaga alone.

“They say it’s magic what I do, but most of my craft is giving stern looks and straight words,” Farah smiled deviously.

“Tell you what, sister,” She paused. “You don’t sound unsure about this marriage. König might be a king, but I never paid attention to titles anyway. They are all the same sorry puffed up men to me. If you want to get away from him, I can help you. It would be fun to have someone willing to learn the craft from me. You could be like a sister to me. I will not do that unkempt king's bidding, enable or convince you to marry, if you don’t want to.”

You looked away. An offering to stay by the Baba Yaga herself.

She is a knife, you remembered, she cares but she cuts too. I do not want to be cut no more.

“That is kind of you, Farah. I am humbled by your offering. But even if it’s complicated, I want to stay.”

“Foolish girl,” She said with a tone that did not mean it. “How is it complicated, sister? Do you not love him then?”

You took a sip from the cup. The tea tasted like nothing in your mouth, but you hardly paid attention.

Would there be a point in lying? You knew the stories of the powerful and clever Baba Yaga. And you had met speaking animals and beings you only knew from tales. Farah would have her ways to find out if she truly wanted the truth. And she likely would not appreciate being lied to.

You swallowed and decided to play it safe.

“My family is dead. All of them. The village shunned me because they thought I was cursed, and one of them repeatedly berated and even attacked me,” You explained. “König is fine. I don’t know him very well, yet. But he looks out for me, he really does. And he does not expect me to do anything more … physically - He promised. And he never forced himself closer to me even if he certainly had the chance and strength to do so. He just needs a queen to show around. And I need a protector. It is … okay. I have made my peace with it… so I thought. But … I had a bad dream. And it confused me. And König told me I might be in danger from drowning because I am human, and he is not. I nearly drowned already. I fear the water since I know him. Can’t stand being deeper in it than to my ankles. That’s why he sent out for you to maybe help with that. So that I will not die in the water by being with him.”

Farah slowly blinked, inhaling and exhaling before leading back in her chair.

“That’s a lot,” Farah finally spoke. “And they say a maiden’s life is light.”

You huffed. “Do they?”

“Older men in taverns do - talk like they know of the world while sitting around.”

“If you say so. I have never been to a tavern. Never left the village.” You answered, feeling foolish now like you knew nothing of the world.

Farah only hummed, closing her eyes as if in deep thought.

“Tell you what, sister,” She opened her eyes. “I will give you knowledge to protect yourself from death by that wet boy of yours.”

Farah got up and started cutting and mixing dried herbs in a large mortar.

“Like most men out there, he probably never even considered that a suffering. Acting like his presence is a gift to the world. You say he does not touch you? Fine. Here, take this.”

You stretched out your hands over the table and she passed you a pouch of the herbal mixture.

“Have you paid attention to what and how much I put in it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. As long as you want, you shall be barren. There will be no child coming from your womb. Just drink a cup of tea made from this mixture every day. Even if that wet-rag-king breaks his promise or you two might change your mind, you shall choose your fate. Quite frankly, without some intervention and knowledge, his dick is more likely to cause you harm than any water ever could. Drowning is faster than carrying a child you don’t want. If your mother were still alive, I’m sure she would tell her beloved daughter all her secrets.”

You looked at the pouch in your hands.

A knife, you thought, a knife to care and cut. Is that a betrayal? To König? To my family? To Mother?

“I don’t know if my mother would have ever told me.”

Farah crossed her arms, grumbling disapprovingly.

“Who knows. But I did. Your choice now. You can always just not drink the tea, right?”

You thought about it. Your mother haunting your dreams and speaking as if having children was the only path to happiness out there. And then you thought of König, his careful act towards you, his hand holding yours, his chest pressing against you, and how observant he was of what you need. How he asked and listened to you. How he would be towards a child. And then you thought of his size and what kind of child from him could grow in your tiny body. If that even was possible. Instinctively your hand closed around the little pouch.

Maybe no one but me is truly looking out for me. Maybe that’s all I am doing? Since when is that a betrayal?

“Right. Thank you,” You mumbled.

“If he ever does break his promise, you are welcome to live with me, and I will boil that fishy king in one of his ponds,” Farah continued as she returned to her seat at the table, sipping from her tea and smiling with glee, “As a little sign of gratitude for my wisdom, entertain me and tell me all about that village of yours and what gossip came from it. I want to know about those who think they can recognize a curse where there is none.”

A knife to cut and care. But not me. Not today.

You leaned back and started telling the stories and lies about you.

And Baba Yaga listened.

You stepped out of Baba Yaga's door and the chicken legged house titled forward to help you walk down the steps to the ground. König was sitting there in the grass, waiting for you.

“Is everything alright, Bride?” He asked while he got up and helped you down.

“Yes.”

You nodded, the herbal pouch hidden between your fingers. It felt exciting to have it there, hold it in your fingers, scary to go against what you had been taught since you were a little girl, mischievous, guilty, fun, safe.

You did not know exactly how to feel about it yet, but you did not let go either. Farah might not have turned you into an unsinkable boat, but she did give you an anchor.

“Hey, walking puddle!” Farah called out behind you from her house. It straightened up again as you reached the grass, acting like a proud pet imitating its keeper.

“I gave your problem a bit of thought and I think you yourself can solve it, oh mighty king of smelly bogs.” She declared. “Sacrifice something you hold dear. Give it to your bride. Coming from a being so tied to the waters should do the job better than any curse or wisdom I could come up with.”

“And what exactly should that sacrifice be?” König grumbled.

“How should I know what you care about?” Farah hit back as her house started to turn away and back to the forest. “Give her your favourite frog? Share an algae salad? But be nice. I like her well enough to return and teach you a lesson if you are not, fish head.”

“That’s it!” König called over to Baba Yaga and her chicken legged house. “You are not invited to the wedding. What kind of help is that? And will you stop it with the names?!”

Farah laughed. “Now I definitely will show up. You will repay me for my wisdom then and give my home a good bath. So long!”

And with her house having finally turned away from you, it started walking off into the forest under Königs loud protests.

Finally, he gave up and sighed.

“Well, at least we have a clue now. Even if it is a riddle.” He turned to you. “Are you sure you are alright? She is a dangerous woman.”

“I am,” You grinned. “We talked about the villagers. I told her everything.”

Königs concerned look turned into a grin as well.

“You are a dangerous woman too, dear Bride.” He nodded approvingly while he giggled. “She hates people who lie and they tell a lot of lies about you.”

“They sure do.”

“I don’t even want to imagine what she will do to them.”

“I do.”

König laughed and took you by the hand. Quickly you hid the pouch in the other behind your back.

“Good thing I am not planning on getting on your bad side, Bride.”

A strange kind of relief washed over you, taking away a tension you did not know you had held. Baba Yaga had given you as many fears as she had given you assurances.

A knife. A knife. A knife.

“Are you afraid I will tell Farah if you did?” You teased, stepping closer into his reach and decided to leave all worry behind you for now.

“No.” He paused, his watery eyes wandering over your form and you suddenly felt very aware that no one, not even the Fox or Heron, was around. Just you and your fiancé. And day time left to explore what that could mean.

“Alright, maybe. A little bit. She is terrifying,” König admitted, breaking the spell that had captured you.

You smiled and stepped away from him. “She is. Next time, please tell me who you invite over so I can brace myself. I like her but she is a force to be reckoned with. Can’t wait for the wedding to see her again.”

“Can’t wait for the wedding too, my beloved Bride.”

You paused, considering telling König about the pouch in your fingers and what that could mean for you - both of you - on your wedding night.

He probably does not even want me like that. I am no powerful being, no rusalka, no Baba Yaga with eyes that pierce everything. Just me. You thought to yourself. Why even give me the pouch when it will never be used? I was foolish enough for a day. No more of it.

“When will we marry, König?” you asked instead.

“When the palace is finished,” He replied. “Come. There is much to be done today. While you tell me what you need, we can think of what Baba Yaga had meant by sacrifice.”

“Good idea. But for today, a sacrifice of fish for lunch will do it for me.”

König chuckled.

“Of course, dear.”

XXX

Cultural Context Notes

Maybe this is a very personal observation but the relationships and friendships among eastern European women* or the dynamic between mothers and daughters is much more important and closer than it is in central Europe or the US. Correct me if I am wrong.

Another more personal observation: I am very cut off from my Russian roots basically since the annexation of Crimea and lost on how queer joy and life can look like ‘back home’. This bleeds into the text, reading very hetero. Since queerphobia is rampant in Russia where my family is from, I’m lost on how to depict eastern european/slavic queerness in my stories. I did not want to replace those gaps by just making a central european take on queerness so this is how it is. But I am a queer writer. And the lack of queerness in my story steeped in eastern european/slavic culture in itself feels like an accidental metaphor and I wish I could change that.

Many are somewhat familiar with Baba Yaga as a powerful evil witch since that is her most present depiction in international media post-Christianisation. But that simplifies her complex character. Some stories hint at her being a goddess of the earth or a similarly powerful being. Other stories describe her as one of three immortal sisters: the maid, the mother, and the crone in which Baba Yaga tends to be the crone. That too makes her an immensely powerful sorceress who reigns over death, life, and rebirth. Depicting her as just an evil witch in the western-European tradition clashes with stories about her being wise and helpful even if she is dangerous and unpredictable. And unlike many classical images of witches from more western parts of Europe Baba Yaga originally had no pointy hat, no black cat, or a broom to ride on. Instead, Baba Yaga appears to have no unusual dress from her peers. Nor does she have a side-kick except for maybe the woodhouse on chicken legs she lives in. And depending on the story Baba Yaga rides an oven, a large mortar, or just walks incredibly fast, which stresses that she is not an old hag in all her depictions but can be of different age and agility depending on the story. Baba Yaga is also associated with bones and death. In some stories she is the mother of the царь кощей / кощей Бессмертный - (Translation from russian) “undead king”/ “The one of bones and who can not die”. I decided to place Farah in the story as Baba Yaga because (I can and) Farah comes off as a reasonable wild card in the CoD franchise which is parallel enough to some Baba Yaga interpretations. Since the character Farah and the creation of a fake middle eastern country just to have that Orientalist theme in the CoD MW plot reads incredibly insensitive and racist to me, I’m making Farah the most powerful being in my story just out of spite. Also, Eastern Europe and Russia is not just Christians but has a lot of other religious influences too, the biggest one being Islam. Farah my beloved and everyone who identifies with her, this is for you. <3

Baba Yaga’s house in many tales is a wooden house on chicken legs that can walk wherever it wishes. To enter the house one needs to call out for it and ask it to turn around. There are several versions on what to say and I’m sure there are other variants in other languages. I used this one because I grew up with it: “Избушка, избушка, повернись ко мне передом, к лесу — задом” - translation from Russian: “Hut, dear hut. Please turn around towards me and with your back to the forest.” The added “Пожалуйста” is also Russian and means “Please”. I wanted to write this phrase in Old Church Slavonic but could not find the right words for it in the dictionaries so I had to stick with what I could execute, sorry. If there is a motivated linguist out there to research this, I’m absolutely willing to edit it and learn more about Old Church Slavonic or other fitting phrases. The origin of this house tale might come from the practice of building stilted houses in swampy regions. To keep the houses from rotting they were built on stilts, which got charred to avoid mould and rot. In some tales Baba Yaga is bound to the house and can not leave. In others she is not. Obviously, I understand staying in such a cool house forever anyway.

Is it possible to use herbs as contraception and abortion remedies? Likely. And there is historical evidence that several remedies had been used in the past to do so with differing success. HOWEVER! Do not try to replicate this at home. This is a fictional story and not medical advice. I know abortion and access to contraceptives are under attack in several parts of the world. It’s important to fight that and guarantee everyone dignity and bodily autonomy. But playing around with herbs you just googled or heard from a friend, is not the solution and can kill you. This part of the story is vague for a reason. 

Buckwheat grows in colder climates and on poor soils. It’s a staple food in many eastern European and central Asian regions. 

Rusalka (singular), rusalki (Plural) don’t have a good translations. In some sense they are mermaids but for inland water, since there are a handful of stories that describe them as having fish tales. But I think the best translation to give a picture of the rusalki is that they are more akin to nymphs like those from Greek myths. Rusalkis are female. In some regions they are supposed to look like old women, in others they are tall and stern looking. I grew up with the Russian tales of Rusalkis being pretty girls or women, playing in or around the water. They can be benevolent, especially to kids and women by helping out with washing clothes, playing or just friendly chatting. But they also can be a threat, predominantly for men whom they trick, drown and eat. It’s fascinating how gendered that image of the rusalka is, as if it fits the same entity but from two binary gendered points of view with the “female” one seeing the rusalka as a free spirit who does as she pleases, and the patriarchal “male” being threatened by that. The stories I know of the rusalka associate her with maidenhood or at least younger women, which ties to the idea that rusalkis are young women who committed suicide by drowning due to being pregnant out wedlock, dying before / around her wedding night or while giving birth. Essentially there is a lot of sexuality coded in the figure of the rusalka. If anyone knows or writes a queer take on it, please tag me. I need a break from those harsh binaries. Also, in some stories Rusalkis serve the Vodyanoy. I don’t really buy that and interpret it as a possible later addition to the fairy tale canon to depict the rusalka as subservient to at least one male master to be honest. Rusalkis are as governable as a storm. 

XXX

@thesinsoflust @kdkj122920 @die-prophetin @lillianastuff @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @fatedeniedhope @queensidillasworld @agspgrwasb @silelda @unlikepoltergeist @matcha-flavored-cake @blvkwondaland @diamondnightdreamer @brooklyn-1918 @thorns-x @icepancakes @sizzlingsaladpeach @peachymonsters @blackrockshooter780 @cl3rks @king-thunderstorm @hosshihusshi

If you like to be tagged as well, shoot me a message.

[autisticadvocacy]

CN: medical abortion physical description “We found 6% of people said the reason they self-managed was because abortion was illegal where they lived.”

[natsmagi]

I hate to be rude but do you know how to draw body fat or are you just gonna make tsumugi a stick with boobs over and over

THE "I HATE TO BE RUDE" AHAKGSQKG3KWHQJSUANSHDNGN PLEAAAAASEE ANON DONT LIE TO URSELF U KNOW DAMN WELL THIS WAS WRITTEN WITH CONDESCENDING INTENT LMAO but to answer ur question; yea i do! admittedly im not the best at it as i lack experience (i dont draw nudity very often so the opportunity barely arises) but i do have a general understanding of how its meant to look and yes i will continue drawing tsumugi as a stick with big boobs over and over! because this is the body type i headcanon her with and i think it suits her. i know boob sizes arent that deep, but a figure like hers carries a more "motherly" vibe to it (theres a reason we say "mommy milkers" n shit after all) plus it adds to her "hot klutz anime gf" energy. theres a Reason this portrayal is so common in the broad enstars community (including JP/KR/CN/etc artists too). when coming up with femstars portrayals my priority is not in giving you representation (that was never even there to begin with); it is to try and translate what made the character good in the original and keep that energy in this new version. now, sometimes adding a larger bit of diversity DOES help translate over the characters energy, and its a win-win for all! it just simply is not how i picture tsumugi in my head (but this does not mean i eat up those different portrayals of her any less!!! i think its super fun to see and she will always be absolutely gorgeous!!!!). if you disagree with my headcanon of her you quite literally do not need to consume my art. no one is forcing you to look at what i make. Pick up a pen and draw the tsumugi of your dreams yourself

and before anyone brings it up: yes!! skinny ppl can have big busts!!!! crazy, isnt it?? ud never expect it from the way yall discuss it! boob sizes are determined partially by fat, yes, but also genetics and if uve undergone pregnancy (the mommy milkers.....) so its INCREDIBLY weird to see people constantly talking about how those of us who draw tsumugi like this "dont know how women look" when yall dont even research the shit you spew. the reason "big boobs skinny waists" is something we've been fighting against in media portrayals is because there was a time where that was ALL THE PORTRAYAL OF WOMEN WE'D GET. THAT IS UNREALISTIC. women come in ALL shapes and sizes, and to dictate what women Can or Can't look like is fucking misogynistic and i cant believe you people dont realize this. i cant believe you dont realize the harm in what you say. alot of skinny people with big busts end up getting breast reduction surgery because 1. those mfs are heavy and 2. everyone sexualizes them!!!!!!! their bodies are viewed purely as something pornographic!!!!!! and no one wants that!!!!!!!! which shit like THIS (something being wrong with having big boobs) perpetuates. often times they hide their busts by wearing baggy clothes, which hides their figure and they end up looking a few sizes bigger just to avoid being viewed as an object. its sad!!!!! and now theres a new wave of people BODYSHAMING THEM??????? and for what??? because men think big boobs are hot???? why can women only exist in contrast to men???? why must women always think about how men will react to how they look or behave?????? why cant women of all body types just EXIST. why must there ALWAYS be someone we punch down at???? bodyshaming isnt suddenly cool just because youre shaming something men get off to

so, i have a question for you too! genuinely, what is wrong with drawing tsumugi like this? what is the harm? theres like 6 characters out of the 49 in enstars that i hc with big busts, so its not like im reducing women to this body type, and its queer people and women who are my target demographic. so whats wrong with it? im genuinely curious

[comfy-whumpee]

I would give my firstborn child to see Jax testifying against Savvie

Finally coming for Anon's firstborn, sorry for the wait. Also sorry about any weird formatting, tumblr forced me to use the new editor and it's shite. As always, written with the help of Savvie's writer @ashintheairlikesnow

CN: implied noncon, emotional and physical abuse, medical malpractice, broken bones, victim blaming.

@bloodybrambles, @wildfaewhump, @ishouldblogmore, @lektricwhumpktric-whump, @that-one-thespianan, @raigash, @burtlederp, @rosesareviolentlyreadread, @eatyourdamnpears

-

THE CLERK: Thank you, sir. You may be seated. Please lean forward into the mic and keep your voice up, for the record. Can you state your name and spell your last name for me, please?

THE WITNESS: Jackson Gallagher. G-A-L-L-A-G-H-E-R.

THE CLERK: Thank you.

"She tried to get that corrected," he mutters. "They told her to shut up."

BY MR ROOKS:

Q. Good morning, Mr Marcoset.

"See? She told him to do that."

MX. WHITE: Could the witness be referred to by his legal name, please?

THE COURT: Yes. The witness will be referred to as Mr Gallagher.

BY MR ROOKS:

Q. Good morning, Mr Gallagher.

A. Good morning.

“Took him a while to get to the point, that day. And it was a stupid point. Delay tactic.

Q. Mr Gallagher, is it true that you were alone in Mrs Marcoset’s home on multiple occasions when she went out?

A. Yes.

Q. Is it true that you were not told what she was doing on those trips?

A. Yes.

Q. Is it true that you spent periods of time in a separate part of the house to her, unaware of what she was doing?

A. She locked me in the basement sometimes, yes.

Q. Even that aside, Mr Gallagher, is it true that you cannot be sure of what she was doing at all times?

A. Yes.

“See. Load of crap just to get to the point.”

Q. In that time, is it possible she could have met with other man?

A. I guess. Yes.

Q. And did these trips continue throughout 20XX, before Mrs Marcoset announced her pregnancy?

A. –Yes.

Q. Can you be certain, Mr Gallagher, that you are the father of her children?

A. I’m certain. You can ask her yourself.

“She was so fucking offended. But she knew why it was done. They ordered the paternity tests after that, and that was another fucking week gone.”

BY MX WHITE:

Q. Good morning, Mr Gallagher.

A. Good morning.

Q. How was your arm broken?

A. It was a few months before she – Savvie – said she was pregnant with Isabella. I was taken to visit her uncle, Isaac Marcoset. He asked her to bring me, she said. When we arrived I was taken to a room, with the people he called staff all lined up inside.

Q. For clarity, Mr Gallagher, what do you mean by ‘the people he called staff’?

A. I met a lot of people who worked in the house. They were called staff, but I never saw them being paid or leaving the property, and some of them said they were born there.

Q. Thank you, Mr Gallagher. Please continue. What happened when you were brought before the staff?

A. Isaac took my arm in both hands and broke it. I hadn’t seen him in a while, I didn’t know what it was about. I gave him lip, of course – the others all looked scared and I wanted to make them feel better. It hurt a lot. But I told him he wasn’t so big and scary. He pushed me into the wall for that and yanked on my arm till it came out the shoulder.

Q. Were you given medical treatment?

A. Yeah, Stewart set my shoulder.

Q. By Stewart, are you referring to the Box Boy owned by Isaac Marcoset, designated Fifteen?

A. Well, yeah, but can I call him Stewart? He was only ever called the steward when I was there, but I thought I should call him by a real name. I’ve been a number before and it’s important, having your name. He liked it.

Q. I understand. Let the record show that ‘Stewart’ refers to Fifteen.

MR ROOKS: Could the Box Boy be referred to with his legal name, please? As we have settled the matter of using legal or chosen names in the court.

“That pissed me off. But the lawyer told me later it probably backfired ‘cause I never managed it on the first try. Stewart is Stewart. Made me look like a good guy, to humanise him like that.”

BY MX WHITE:

Q. Did you receive any other treatment?

A. They took me to a doctor who knew about me being a captive. He cast the arm and gave me painkillers.

Q. Did he give the painkillers to you directly?

A. No, actually. He gave them to Savvie.

Q. Describe your access to pain relief through your recovery period.

A. It was – erratic. Savvie controlled when I ate and slept, and she took over that too. She didn’t let me touch them. I was told to stay in the bed, her bed in her bedroom, and she would bring them over when the alarm went off. But most times she’d say I had to kiss her first, or ask if I really wanted them, before she let me have them. Or she’d forget. I’d remind her if she was there, but if she wasn’t, there was nothing I could do. A few times she’d be in a bad mood and say she was too upset to get them, or I’d get them if I apologised to her. One time I remember, she turned off the alarm. I could see the sun and I knew it was time. But when I asked her, she said it wasn’t time yet. She asked if it hurt, and then she told me I had to lift it see if it could go higher than yesterday.

Q. Who took over your household work during that time?

A. Hannah. She’d come by a few times a week and work on cleaning the whole house, same as I had to. I spoke to her a bit. She had a collar, same as me.

Q. How did Ms Marcoset react?

A. She was furious. The first time I met Hannah, she was out. When she came home she grabbed my arm, the broken arm, and squeezed it as hard as she could. She said I wasn’t like the others, I wasn’t staff. Because she loved me. I told her she was hurting me, the pain was – I can’t describe it. Really f- really bad.

Q. Did Ms Marcoset realise she was hurting you?

A. Yes. You could see it in her eyes. They went wide, and – and her breathing picked up, like she was excited. When I said she was hurting me, she said she knew. I asked her why. She said – because I can. Because I want to.

“God, Jax.”

“…Yeah.”

Q. Did she release you?

A. Eventually. She made me wait. I thought I was going to be sick, or pass out. I couldn’t breathe right. She just told me to look at her. She said, she said I should be able to hurt a, a little. For her. I had, she left nail tracks on my arm. It was out of the cast, I don’t think I said. She dug her nails in so hard I had lines of blood. Those ones didn’t scar. I have a lot on my back, from her, but – a lot of nail scratches on my back. They weren’t the only ones.

“It gets worse.”

BY MR ROOKS:

Q. You told the court that you were treated by a doctor, Mr Gallagher. Are you referring to Dr Russell Leppelman?

A. Yes, I think that’s him.

Q. Is it true you were taken to him by Mrs Marcoset for that treatment, immediately after you were injured by Isaac Marcoset?

A. Yes. Stewart, uh, Fifteen told her to.

Q. Is it true that Dr Leppelman provided you with a cast, painkillers and a treatment plan?

A. Well he refused at first. He called me a pet. But—

Q. Did he treat you?

A. He did, yes.

Q. Is it true that he treated you in private, away from Mrs Marcoset?

A. Yes.

Q. Did he ask whether you had any allergies?

A. Yes.

Q. Did he perform a wellbeing check?

A. What does that mean?

Q. Did he ask after your personal safety and mental health?

A. Yes.

Q. Did he act unprofessional towards you in any way?

A. Not in the treatment.

Q. So you were separated from Mrs Marcoset, alone, with a healthcare professional who was attending to your wellbeing and health, but you did not ask him to help you escape the captivity you claimed?

A. I did, actually.

“She didn’t know about that bit. Figured they’d ask it, they asked it about every time I admitted to meeting another fucking soul.”

A. I told him I was a slave, and he said I should call myself lucky I wasn’t treated like the others. He said I was a pet. He said he played golf with Isaac and none of his people dressed as nice as the clothes I had on. I asked if I got patient confidence and he said yes, unless I was rude, basically.

Q. So you had patient confidence, and you asked him for help?

A. I asked him if he would help me and he said he wouldn’t.

Q. He invited you to share what you wanted in patient confidence, is that true?

A. Yes, true enough. I asked if she was on birth control because I was worried about kids. That surprised him. He said she wouldn’t keep her kids as slaves.

Q. Did he provide you with that information?

A. He told me she was. I asked if he knew about the other slaves, the staff. He said he knew. But he said she wouldn’t hurt her own kids.

Q. Why do you consider that an unreasonable belief?

A. He knew her. He said, what did you expect from a Marcoset? He knew her dad and her uncle, he knew about the staff and that some of them were blood relatives.

Q. That has not been proven. Did you actually ask him for help escaping captivity?

A. I did. I could see he didn’t like the idea of her having kids. He knew that would be bad. So I said, if eventually she goes off birth control, and there are kids now, would he help? He told me not to worry about it.

Q. Is it true that he did offer to help, although he believed it would not happen?

A. Not really. He said I was playing for pity. He said I should be good and, lie back, and think of England, and put up with it. He said I should try harder to make her happy with me. He said, specifically said, he wouldn’t tell anyone about me.

Q. Dr Leppelman said he would help, in the situation you imagined, if he believed the children would benefit from his intervention. Is that true?

A. Yes. But—

Q. So did you ask for help escaping from captivity for yourself?

A. No, because he told me before that point that he wouldn’t. He also hit me. Twice.

Q. Is it true that he explained his family was under threat?

A. He mentioned it. He said I wasn’t worth it.

Q. Do you consider it unreasonable for him to prioritise his family over a stranger?

A. Not me. But he knew about the child slaves. He should have at least done something for those kids.

Q. But is it true that you did not ask for help for your own sake, Mr Gallagher?

A. Yeah.

Q: Thank you.

“There you go. One page out of a fuckin’ hundred. Do you get the picture?”

Kieran set the transcript down. “Thank you for sharing that with me, love. I don’t think that was easy for you.”

“Nah. But it’s been…bloody hell. Ten years. You never looked it up even once. You of all people should get to know.”

Jax finally stops pacing, settling down on the sofa next to his partner. Kieran holds still, letting him lean close.

“Izzy’s probably read it all five times over, anyway,” Jax adds, and Kieran surprises himself by being able to smile.

[muntadhir]

Reading will dean’s “the last thing to burn” and I am about to cannibalize this fictional man, The Villain (this is how I imagine Geppetto would treat pregnant Carlo/P and babby — how the book character acts I mean, not me eating people)

I wasn’t going to annoy tungle today but Yuki mentioned a post so I’m here and ((gasps)) I’m thinking of a sexy concept now: Geppetto feels like he’s failed with P/nameless. maybe he really did fuck up with nameless so he gives p his heart back, IMPREGNATES HIM (4real), in hopes that babby will be HIS Carlo

Amazing 10000/10, I will be writing this idea on a peace of paper and eating it

[mcatmemoranda]

I have a patient who is not currently sexually active who wanted STI screening, so I ordered gonorrhea and chlamydia test with urine. It is negative for gonorrhea and chlamydia, but is positive for mycoplasma hominis and ureaplasma species. Although she is asymptomatic, I am going to treat her with antibiotics. I haven't had this happen yet.

Microbiology – Mycoplasma hominis and Ureaplasma spp are small bacteria that lack a cell wall and cannot be visualized by Gram stain. They are part of the normal genital flora of sexually experienced individuals. Transient neonatal colonization also occurs.

●Associated genitourinary syndromes – These organisms have been associated with various genitourinary tract infections (eg, pelvic inflammatory disease [PID] for M. hominis and nongonococcal urethritis for Ureaplasma spp), as well as complications of pregnancy, but their precise roles in some of these conditions have been difficult to define.

●Populations at risk for extragenital infection – M. hominis and Ureaplasma can cause severe infection in specific populations. Neonatal infections include meningoencephalitis, bacteremia, and pneumonia, mainly in preterm infants. In immunocompromised patients, severe systemic infections (eg, bacteremia and bone, joint, pulmonary, and central nervous system [CNS] infections) have also been described; extragenital infections can also occur following trauma or instrumentation of the genitourinary tract.

●Clinical suspicion and diagnosis – M. hominis or Ureaplasma spp infection should be suspected in preterm neonates and immunocompromised patients with extragenital infections when initial microbiologic testing is negative or if the patient does not improve on therapy for more common pathogens. Both culture and nucleic acid amplification tests can be used for their detection; if these organisms are isolated, susceptibility testing should be performed, if available.

●Treatment

•Neonatal infection – For neonates, data on the treatment of M. hominis and Ureaplasma spp infections are extremely limited. M. hominis is variably susceptible to clindamycin, tetracyclines, and fluoroquinolones. Clindamycin should be dosed according to postmenstrual age; experience with doxycycline and fluoroquinolones in premature infants is limited. If treatment is warranted for Ureaplasma spp, azithromycin is an option.

•Extragenital infection in other populations – For extragenital M. hominis and Ureaplasma spp infections in nonpregnant individuals, we suggest moxifloxacin or levofloxacin (Grade 2C). Doxycycline is an appropriate alternative, although resistance may be increasing; it is also reasonable to use combination therapy (eg, moxifloxacin or levofloxacin plus doxycycline). Clinical data on the optimal treatment of these organisms are limited; our preference for certain regimens are based mainly on in vitro susceptibility data and safety in different populations.

•Genital infection – Routine testing for M. hominis or Ureaplasma spp in patients with uncomplicated genital tract disease is not warranted. If these organisms are detected in patients with a genitourinary syndrome (eg, nongonococcal urethritis or PID) and are thought to be the cause of the symptoms, we suggest doxycycline (Grade 2C).

[searchthebasement]

( also based on my hc that nervous is transmasc and afab )

( cn: pregnancy )

nervous: ummm uhhh so i might be pregnant i think

pascal: we'll figure it out but bro you're not gonna believe this

nervous: what

pascal: so am i

nervous: w h a t

nervous: ex-fucking-scuse me?????

nervous: 👁️👄👁️

nervous: wtf call me

[gitcheegitcheegoomeansily]

it'd only be fair if my kwami swap au happened in all the different directions, right?

i kinda want emilie to be the butterfly user instead of gabriel. nathalie would be the one in the coma.

emilie and nathalie are the sort of friends that make you feel nauseated by how they act with each other (but bc they're just that fucking cute). like childhood best friends with such a high dependence on each other that they're each other's emergency contact, most frequently texted person, "oh [insert name] would love this i should get this", blah blah blah (basically they fucking love each other deeply). so when emilie finds out she's infertile, after some discussion and a Lot of thinking, nathalie agrees to be a surrogate. she doesn't want to raise a child, she's known this for years, but emilie has been dreaming of being a mother for years, and gabriel has drunkenly admitted that he'd probably cry (of joy) if he had a child. also she's morbidly curious about pregnancy. and she wants to be an aunt so fucking bad, goddamnit.

childbirth goes like how you'd expect it to, with alive nathalie and alive adrien. for like seven years, emilie, gabe and aunt nathalie raise this beautiful little child, researching the miraculi in between bc of emilie's curiousity and the fact that it tickles gabriel's fashion brain delightfully and fulfills nathalie's childhood dreams of travelling. the four of them travel a lot. anyway, emilie and nathalie (as like a fun side-trip) find the peacock and butterfly by accident but smtg goes very wrong and nathalie is caught in the crossfire. in a last ditch attempt to save nathalie, emilie puts the peacock miraculous on nathalie (maybe the butterfly is locked up or smtg), and nathalie chokes out the words. it works.

nathalie makes it to a hospital, but it turns out the usage of the very broken peacock miraculous makes you weak and she falls into a coma.

blah blah, some more backstory, emilie and gabriel have a fight, they move back to paris, emilie researches ways to fix this, blah blah, and eventually, years later, psyché is borne, hunting élytres and miss fortune for their miraculous.

as for gabriel, he wants nothing to do with magic. magic got nathalie dead. he just sort of turns a blind eye to emilie's butterfly adventures and other assorted crimes and throws himself into his work. he's guilty, he's so guilty, and he finds his release in his art. eventually, he does become the peacock user but that's a little iffy

like canon, adrien ends up falling to the wayside in this lonely ass house. i mean, his parents are around (never together, and when they are, they're fighting/passive-aggressive) and they talk to him occasionally, but y'know when it's not really neglect or abuse but you as a child can't help but feel something is wrong? yeah, it's like that. a lot of parents-who-should-be-divorced vibes. they are also deeply overprotective

on a bigger scale, the miracle box ends up in the butterfly's hands. how? idk, haven't thought that far into this au. probably grieving emilie trying to find any way to save her best friend and committing b&e? or smtg else idk.

as for the lb and cn miraculi, they'd be "lost" bc of master fu (he jsut sort of releases them into the wild just to be safe). also master fu would have the grimoire, and out of worry, he releases guardianship of the miracle box to whoever the wielders of the ladybug/black cat miraculi are (operating on a "whoever finds the box and claims it first" scale).

[itsagrimm]

Von Vätern und Söhnen

Translation: Of Fathers and Sons

After everything König went through he wonders if he can be a good dad

600 words

CN light PTSD symptoms and sleeplessness , discussions of pregnancy, könig goes to therapy (clap clap clap), childhood trauma

Outside, a stormy winter-wind howled around the house, making branches of the bare tree on the street tap against the windows.

König couldn’t sleep, the sound too loud and irregular to ignore.

Starring up at the ceiling he traced the old stucco to calm himself.

Flowers, Artemis and her entourage frolicking through eternal spring, more flowers.

At this point he knew every centimetre of his bedroom ceiling in the Altbau-Vienna flat by hard.

He sighed.

Amalia had gotten him ear plugs and a mask to sleep better. He knew she meant well, but he couldn’t bear depriving himself of sensory inputs that had saved his life out in the field countless times. It was a hard habit to shake, making him feel claustrophobic as if he was locked in his mind.

Instead, he listened to her deep breaths in his arms, curled against his side with her belly pressed against him.

She clung to him, as if afraid he would be gone again when she woke up.

He wouldn’t.

They had talked about it when she told him she was pregnant. Finally. He smiled into the bedroom twilight.

Seeing Amalia’s body change as she carried their child filled him with both wonder and worry.

She was always tired no matter how much she slept. Her newfound picky appetite drove her into constant annoyance, leaving her hungry AND nauseous. And as much as she wanted this child, it was clear she wanted to be done with pregnancy - constantly chiding the unborn kid for all the discomforts the little one caused her as she waddled around the flat in König’s borrowed larger clothes.

Finally, her always unspoken understanding of König’s periodic aloofness became a voiced concern.

Friendly but firmly she had insisted on therapy for them both.

Like a general she had marshalled him into a therapist’s office, leaving him with the choice of working on himself or continuing to run away until the kid would catch up.

With a defeated sigh, he had agreed.

His own father had been distant.

A presence in his childhood only there to silently take the seat at the dinner table, pay for expenses or put down a paternal hand on his shoulder for family portraits.

König knew very little about what it meant to be a good father, but it certainly wasn’t what his father had been to him. And his time as a soldier and later mercenary hadn’t helped either, giving him many memories and scars he doubted he would ever fully recover from. Therapy was long overdue anyway and better than him accidentally acting out against his child. Clearly not something fathers should do. That much he knew.

Something kicked him into his side.

König turned his head, checking if Amalia was awake.

She wasn’t.

Her face buried into his shoulder, motionless except for her deep steady breaths and her pupils twitching behind her closed eyelids.

But the baby moved - her belly turned sideways towards him and with the kid in it kicking him into his hip.

What a troublemaker already.

König smiled, imagining how the little kiddo dreamed like his mother - kicking, twitching, seeing a whole world behind their little eyelids.

Don’t worry little one, Papa ist da.

König moved his hand and placed it on Amalia’s stomach where the baby was kicking.

It gave one last push for good measure before calming down again.

Maybe putting down his hand were his child could feel it was a good start to be a father after all.

-

I think könig would be a good dad, working on breaking intergenerational trauma and all that 😌

[mlwritersguild]

MWG 2022 WRAPPED LIST - PART THIRTEEN

Like we said in our last post, a lot of us at the MWG are proud rare pair shippers, there are some pairs we never thought we’d like... until, of course, we read the fic.

To recap, our January event, as usual, was to recommend and review our favorite fics that we read in 2022! To make things a little bit more interesting and fun, we treated it a bit like an awards ceremony or spotify wrapped. If you know the tumblr accounts of any authors on AO3 that were mentioned but not tagged, please tag them!

Continuing with our rec lists, here's part fourteen, the MWG nominations for unexpected ship fics (aka the ones that make you ‘damn ok I do ship it’)!

One Thing Right by orphan_account

lila rossi/aeon // slowburn // good lila // fluff and angst // tw implied/referenced self-harm

Blood Will Tell by @sunfoxfic

feligami // no powers au // friends with benefits // unplanned teen pregnancy // angst // pregnancy-termination associated tws  

Show Me Where My Armor Ends (Show Me Where My Skin Begins) by @emmalylis

feluka // royalty au // merpeople au // inspired by hamlet // grief/mourning // marriage proposal

He Probably Still Does by avery_the_werm

pv verse // felix/kid mime // temporary unrequited love // cn!felix // denial of feelings

the very first page (not where the story ends) by @queer-cosette​

zobrina // past chlobrina // sabrina-centric // falling in love // moving on // prom 

steppin’ to you toe to toe (dancing on the clouds below) by noirshitsuji

(pre-)ninogami // nino&luka-friendship-centric // housemates au // aged-up characters // humour

To be continued! See you tomorrow for part 14.

[chaoticneutralbell]

There's a hole in your logic

You who know all the answers...

| soundtrack | living space | style

Name: Lucy Archer Bell

Age: 30 (Feb 12)

Identity & Orientation: NB AFAB, they/he/she, disaster pan

Originally From: Clackamas, Oregon

Most Recent Community: Dielectric Research Community, Connecticut

Time in Redwood: New as of February 2043

Resides in: A bungalow near the school

Previous occupation: Biomedical / Neuro-Engineer

Community occupation: Teacher (STEM subjects) / Daycare / Mechanic's assistant

Lucy was born to a mom in (temporary) recovery, and never knew her father. She grew up mostly raised by maternal grandparents while her mother went through several rounds of rehab, additional pregnancies and falls off the wagon. Lucy, meanwhile, became a driven, intelligent young woman - with a real sarcastic wit. She excelled in soccer, but ended up needing financial assistance for college.

She was indignant at needing financial assistance, being teased by classmates for her financial struggle, and eschewed parties to hold down a job around classes. By 2037 Lucy was in her last year of a bachelors program at John Hopkins University in Baltimore, Maryland.

Already having been approached by prestigious biomedical firms, Lucy was starting to feel she'd outrun her crappy circumstance of birth. Around the same time news of a new outbreak was starting one of the firms swooped in and recruited every student on the same track. Promised them the chance to change the world in their lifetime, to save mankind. That they were all needed.

Dielectric was their home for several years as the world shut down. Compartmentalized, kept ignorant of the goings on outside; told it was for the best if they weren't distracted by the outside world.

Small teams worked on different pieces of a greater whole, brainstorming, hypothesizing, testing, making odd supply requests from the men upstairs...

Until supplies stopped showing up.

An intellectual powerhouse, the cell found solutions to problems as they came. Predicted likely future issues and took what preventative measures they could. But eventually, the walls would be permeated.

What researchers survived that inevitable breach fled; they weren't built for brute force fighting. Lucy was never more grateful that she'd been a jock in high school, able to outrun bigger, heavier predators.

A year of another kind of learn-by-doing, and Lucy fell ass-over-teakettle into Redwood. Specifically by setting off a hunting trap.

| Headcanons |

Lucy was on course to earn her Bachelor of Science in Biomedical Engineering; specifically angling for the Neural Engineering Track.

She never lost her snarky personality. Originally a defense mechanism, it eventually simply became a part of her personality. It didn't endear her to superiors at Dielectric, alas.

Before you ask - yes his mom named them Lucy as a Beatles homage. Yes, Lucy finds it tacky. Yes, he knows it's close to Lucille Ball, too.

Doesn't like talking about how they lost their left pinky.

Created "A fully implantable,wireless interface for CNS for electronic recording, stimulation and microfluidic drug delivery."

5 Tattoos: Lunar moth at right hipbone | cobra winding up right arm | Neuron up the exterior left calf | Twilight Zone inspired on left bicep | James Webb hexagon on the back of their neck

Goes by Archer, in addition to Lucy

Birth order: Lucy -> Allison (26) -> Joey (23) -> Nina (20) -> Jordan (16) -> Jimmy (12)

| Wanted Connections |

STEM nerds (open!) - Do you speak science, tech, engineering or math? Then Lucy would love to nerd it up with you. Conversation, projects, wild theories, whatever @orioncarnell , @tamirkamadcr

Chaotic Buds (1/2) - Lucy has high Int, low Wis and obviously would love buds of similar stat block. @aresmelaina ,

Kite String (0/1) - Who's going to tether this girl when she's getting unrealistic, too salty, etc?

Trap Spring (1/1) - She was brought in by a hunter whose trap she set off. Soz, dude. - @davxdalexander

Crossed Paths (2/3) - She was extremely behind the 8 ball on the whole apocalypse thing, running a couple years behind everyone else. Did you encounter her in the last year? Helped her out or took advantage? @frankxausting , @harry-thompson

[jbucb]

Fanfic request rules

Ask about a Fandom!

Characters I am partial to!

Joel, Sarah, Maria and Tommy Miller ,Ellie Williams, Abby Anderson!

(Includes:Jesse, Dina, Maria, Owen, Mel, Manny and more)

(Very happy to write non reader for this ,just characters as well)

Lee Bodecker, James(Bucky) Barnes, Mickey Henry, Frank, Carter Baizen, Nick Fowler, Jefferson Hatter.. scratch that... ANY SEBASTIAN STAN CHARACTER

Billy hargrove... that's it just him

Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda and Pietro Maximoff,Bruce banner

Capt. Syverson, Geralt of rivia (in game as well) ,Sherlock Holmes, August walker.

Dean and Sam Winchester, Castiel,

I write for charactersXreader I'm not opposed to doing WLW&MLM, but I am most comfortable with MLW

Tropes I love

DBF BFD, Age-Gap, Professer, Dilf

Secret relationship, Fake Dating, Enemies to lovers

BBF, Single parent, friends to lovers,

roommates to lovers.

I do enjoy AUs Very much !! Especially

Modern, pre-war-post-war, Mafia, actor, doctor,

College, Socialite, Vetran, Lawyer ,Cop, and Rockstar, Farmer, Equestrian.

I will not write for!

DDLG, STEP-relationships, Explicit

INCEST, FORCED PREGNANCY, CNS

(not excluding but will not write in heavy detail)

SA OR COCSA

I will write smut but not often as I do not prefer to write it .

[medicalpharmacyshop]

Methadone: Understanding Its Uses, Benefits, and Safety

Methadone is a synthetic opioid used primarily for pain management and as part of a comprehensive treatment program for opioid addiction. It has been a critical medication in helping individuals manage chronic pain and reduce cravings for other opioids. In this article, we’ll explore what methadone is, its uses, benefits, and safety considerations.

What is Methadone?

Methadone is an opioid medication that works by changing how the brain and nervous system respond to pain. Unlike other opioids, it has a longer half-life, meaning it stays in the body longer and can be used effectively to prevent withdrawal symptoms in individuals recovering from opioid addiction.

Common Uses of Methadone

Chronic Pain Management: Methadone is prescribed for patients with chronic pain conditions who require long-term pain relief. It is often used when other pain medications are ineffective or not tolerated.

Opioid Dependence Treatment: Methadone is a key component of Medication-Assisted Treatment (MAT) for opioid addiction. It helps reduce cravings and withdrawal symptoms, making it easier for individuals to recover from opioid dependence.

Detoxification: In some cases, methadone may be used as part of a detoxification program to help individuals safely transition off stronger opioids.

How to Take Methadone Safely

Dosage: Methadone is typically available in oral form, such as tablets or liquid. Always follow your healthcare provider’s prescribed dosage, as it can vary based on individual needs and conditions.

Administration: Take methadone exactly as prescribed. It is essential to measure the liquid form carefully using a dosing syringe or cup provided by your pharmacy.

Avoid Alcohol and Other CNS Depressants: Mixing methadone with alcohol or other central nervous system depressants can lead to serious side effects, including respiratory depression, coma, or even death.

Regular Monitoring: Regular follow-up appointments with your healthcare provider are essential to monitor your response to the medication and make any necessary dosage adjustments.

Potential Side Effects

While methadone can be effective, it is essential to be aware of potential side effects, which may include:

Drowsiness and dizziness

Nausea and vomiting

Constipation

Sweating

Changes in mood

Risks and Considerations

Dependency and Addiction: Methadone is an opioid and carries a risk of dependence and addiction. Use it only as prescribed by your healthcare provider.

Drug Interactions: Inform your healthcare provider about any other medications you are taking, as methadone can interact with various drugs, leading to increased side effects or reduced effectiveness.

Pregnancy and Breastfeeding: If you are pregnant or breastfeeding, consult your healthcare provider, as methadone can affect fetal development and may be passed to a nursing infant.

Conclusion

Methadone is a valuable medication for managing chronic pain and aiding in opioid addiction treatment. While it can provide significant benefits, it is crucial to use it responsibly under medical supervision to minimize risks and ensure safe use. If you have questions about methadone or its uses, consult your healthcare provider for personalized guidance.

If you're looking to purchase methadone safely, you can visit Medical Pharmacy Shop for options. Always ensure you buy from reputable sources that require a prescription.

[bizonmark]

1pc/Fertility Bracelet - Healthy Pregnancy Bracelet Moonstone Healing Stone Beaded Jewelry Gift

  Chain Type: Beaded Bracelet Shapepattern: Round Material: Stone Style: Classic Gender: Women Metals Type: None Bracelets Type: Strand Bracelets Origin: Mainland China CN: Zhejiang Item Type: BRACELETS Fine or Fashion: fashion