#maternal death cw

[baelonthebrave]

How could you made Sena that pathetic? Like I thought after you said you want to have non violent ending to dance, I was sure you will write a lot of good fucks and children popping like Alysanne but why you decided to make Sena so weak? Like, to me, you had dilemma whether you want to pull Aemma/Laena fate with her or to make her survive by some kind of miracle. You have done so great job at making her strong, only to write her as unable to make Aemond's dream of big family came true. WTF?

brooo this is the most sexist ask I have had in a long time. women who can’t have lots of children are weak? disgusting take. desperately hope you don’t have any women in your life who cannot conceive or have had difficult births if that is your attitude.

begging you to do a google search on medical history, women’s history, ANYTHING that will teach you how dangerous childbirth was before modern medicine, germ theory, epidurals, blood transfusions, caesarians, etc. it is still sadly a major cause of death in developing nations and why pregnancy is such a high risk, closely monitored health state.

in the books, targs die in childbirth even more often than other women. a lot of fans theorise it’s to do with whatever magic it is that makes them dragonriders and leaves their stillborn children malformed with dragon characteristics, or even just the inbreeding.

not that I think this ask deserves a serious answer, bc good lord that is one of the most offensive things I have read in a long time, but the idea was to not give too neat and happy of an ending, bc such a thing never happens in real life or in asoiaf. “Life is not a song”. And also just to show a deep and enduring love between two people with virtues and flaws, who don’t get their idyllic big family but are content with what they DO get regardless. I also often see a troubling association in fiction between women who are either physically weak or emotionally closed off being unable to bear children, as though not being able to have children is evidence of weakness or lacking in nurturing qualities/femininity. so I wanted to write a woman who is both strong and nurturing but just so happens to not be able to safely bear children. also just to show aemond as a rare man in this world who values his wife’s LIFE above his own legacy. the books are littered with men who all but kill their wives in the pursuit of heirs. in a way, that’s what starts the entire story of the dance when aemma dies.

so yeh. that’s a really vile opinion to go and drop in someone’s inbox. I just hope you’re very young, don’t really understand what you’re saying, and you’ll take this opportunity to go and educate yourself.

I can’t tell if this is the same person who dropped that rude ass ask in my inbox a few days ago (I think it is) but I had to answer this because it’s just straight up offensive and I really hope you can see why. I won’t be answering anymore of these though, so don’t bother!

[girlinafairytale]

source

[azaracyy]

"true partner" click here for the uquiz created by @/niconicomuda on twitter

[shoutsindwarvish]

i just scheduled a meet-up with my rabbi to talk about my grief re: my grandma and i genuinely want to because i need it but i am also so nervous about it

which i find a little funny because he clearly does everything he can to be as approachable as possible and is soft-spoken and kind and would probably be bummed that i’m intimidated by him but it’s mostly because i think he’s cool and don’t want to fuck up somehow?? (jewish imposter syndrome is probably in there too. and definitely fear of being vulnerable, lol.)

anyway here’s hoping i’m able to actually talk and get something out of it and not be internally screaming the whole time

[magdaclaire]

you ever get waves of rage reading your biological father's obit

[chemicalarospec]

If you answered no, you should probably make one, no matter how old you are. Unless you own literally nothing I guess.

[reasonsforhope]

“Bangladesh has achieved a huge success in reducing infant and maternal mortality rates in the last five decades, securing the top position in South Asia.

According to the World Bank's estimation, the current infant mortality rate for Bangladesh is 21 deaths per 1000 live births making 85% decline from 1971 as the rate was 141 deaths during Bangladesh's independence.

According to health experts, Bangladesh achieved unprecedented success in every health index in the last 50 years since independence...

According to Health and Family Welfare Ministry, Bangladesh maternal mortality rate was 269 per 100,000 live births in 2009. The ratio has reduced to 165 recently.

The government has set a target to reduce maternal mortality to less than 50 per 100,000 live births...

After the independence, the Bangladesh government had put emphasis on maternal health, family planning, child nutrition and so on.

Special importance was also given on different five-year plans, health policy and latest health, population and nutrition programme. Special allocation was also kept at annual development programme (ADP) on those issues.

Annual Global Childhood Report 2019 of the humanitarian organization "Save The Children" says child mortality rate has reduced to a great extent in Bangladesh, Bhutan, India and Nepal in the last two decades.

Among the four countries, Bangladesh has made the highest progress. The child mortality ratio declined 60% in Bhutan, 59% in Nepal, 57% in India, [and] 63% in Bangladesh in the last two decades...

Family Planning Directorate Assistant Director Matiur Rahman said that 3,364 union health and family welfare centres are providing maternal and child health facilities apart from family planning services across the county.

Of them, 2189 union health and family welfare centres are providing 24 hour safe delivery facilities every day.”

-via The Business Standard, 6/14/22

[perfectoffering]

╰     cis man , he/him/his     ☆     𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 …   we’re introduced to SANTOS SALAZAR SANTIAGO , the TWENTY EIGHT year old GUIDE at EMERALD CITY ART GALLERY from enchanted falls who bears a striking resemblance to DARIO YAZBEK. the whispers in the wind tells us of their EASYGOING and IDEALISTIC reputation, that’s why the townsfolk often are reminded of once upon a time are the sweetest words in any world; if you don’t like the person you are, enough time and magic will surely make you a new one; the precocious child with his head in the clouds grows into an adult with rose-colored glasses; i don’t go looking for trouble, it usually just finds me.  they are often haunted by dreams of a life lived as BASTIAN BALTHAZAR BUX / THE SHAGGY MAN ( THE NEVERENDING STORY / THE WIZARD OF OZ ) .

i. it starts on a day like any other, like any good story. he's ten. intelligent, unpopular, being raised by his father: his only surviving parent. a dentist and a man too out of touch with his own emotions to guide his son through grief, bastian is alone most days. so he escapes. he's read every book he could get his hands on, devouring one novel after another with the frenzied desire only accessible to neglected children. and suddenly there's a book unlike any other. when you stop reading those other books, you get to be a little boy again, the grizzled old shopkeeper tells him. those other books are safe. he steals the book when the old man's back is turned, and quickly loses himself in the neverending story. he follows the great hero atreyu on his quest to save fantasia from the nothing, but both protagonist and reader are left utterly baffled when, in the final chapter, the childlike empress herself tells atreyu that he cannot save fantasia. but bastian can. ii. he gives the empress a new name, and she is reborn with a new identity. a new fantasia to rule over. she entrusts bastian with auryn, an amulet which gives the wearer unlimited wishes. it's only after the boy becomes a man while adventuring through fantasia that he learns the cost of bearing auryn. every wish steals a memory from the human who possesses auryn, until they find themselves helplessly lost in fantasia, with no memory of who or where they are. with only his own name and the memory of his father remaining, bastian spends decades toiling to reclaim everything he's lost. the lost memories have to go somewhere, and so they do. a mine, where each memory becomes trapped in the stone as a painting on canvas. by the time he returns to his world as a little boy again, he's lived to be an old man once already. some years go by, and then he meets a girl named dorothy. when auryn reveals itself to her, bastian expects their journey to end in fantasia. instead, he finds himself in a land called oz. ozma takes him in, and in exchange, he donates auryn to the emerald city. in fantasia, he nearly killed his best friend in a fit of power-hungry rage. he would not make the same mistakes again in oz. there, he's known for his compassion and his love. iii. in enchanted falls, truthfully not much has changed for him. while he doesn't have the memories of all he's learned in fantasia, the curse couldn't take from him how tender and full of love his adventures made him. he's a painter in his spare time, and teaches others about art for work. very rarely is he found without at least one other "oz" character, but he's very friendly -- albeit a little awkward -- and loves to help the people around him in whatever ways he can.

[alex51324]

So I read this article a few days ago, and I have been haunted by it ever since.

This young woman, Nevaeh, had an "oops" pregnancy. As you may have already guessed, she was from a Christian background--her name, "Heaven," spelled backwards, is popular in Evangelical circles. She, "believed abortion was morally wrong," and "didn’t care whether the government banned it," since she wouldn't have chosen to have one anyway.

Instead, she decided to carry the pregnancy to term and raise the baby, with the support of her mother and her boyfriend, the baby's father. Her boyfriend, the baby's father, gave her a diamond promise ring, and she picked out a name--Lillian--and planned a baby shower.

On the day of the baby shower, she felt unwell, then developed a fever and began vomiting. Her mother took to her to the ER, where she was given a prescription for antibiotics and sent home. A few hours later, she felt even worse, and her mother took her to the other hospital in their town, which had an obstetric emergency room. They did some tests, including checking the fetal heart rate, and told her the baby was fine. The gave her IV fluids and antibiotics, recorded her increasing fever, fast pulse, and high fetal heart rate, and sent her home again. She had to be taken out to the car in a wheelchair, because her pain was so bad.

A few hours later, she started bleeding, and they went back to the hospital with the obstetric emergency department. There, a different doctor did an ultrasound and was unable to find a fetal heartbeat.

Under Texas law, a medical practitioner faces up to 99 years in prison for performing any intervention that ends a fetal heartbeat. So, at this point, the doctors were free to treat her like a seriously ill human being, and not an ambulatory vessel for a life more valuable than her own--however, they hadn't recorded the first ultrasound. To ensure they could demonstrate compliance with the law, the doctor ordered a second one.

Somehow, that ended up taking about an hour and a half, during which time Neveah's condition got worse. By the time the second ultrasound was done, and the doctor was able to order a D&C to remove the deceased fetus, she was too weak to sign the release forms--her mother had to sign for her.

Before they got her into the operating room, she was dead.

If they were going to make an exception for anybody, they would have made one for her: a pro-life, Christian girl, who responded to her unplanned pregnancy by getting excited about becoming a mom. Who was not just unwell, not just in danger, but actually dying when she was refused care.

The Texas fetal heartbeat law does have an exception when the mother's life is at immediate risk. However, the Texas Attorney General has made clear--and several Trump-appointed judges have backed him up--to Texas doctors that they will be charged with homicide if he, who has no medical credentials whatsoever, disagrees with their professional judgment that a procedure which ended a fetal heartbeat was necessary to safe the life of the mother. That's why the doctor needed that second ultrasound.

That's probably why the other two doctors sent Nevaeh home: they couldn't be accused of an intervention that ended the fetal heartbeat, if they didn't intervene.

The leopards that eat people's faces, like all predators, go for the most vulnerable members of the herd. The guy up front on the podium, getting rich off bloviating about how leopards just have to eat a person's face from time to time, he's safe--not because of any loyalty on the part of the leopards, but because others in the group are softer targets.

Like I said, I'd been haunting me.

The Shirley Exception

[merakiui]

Mera I saw your recent post about noncon jade thoughts, do tell 👀👀👀

👀 there are so many thoughts to share!!

(cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, female reader, stalking, murder, obsessive behaviors, pregnancy, (for one of the concepts), oviposition, breeding, language barrier (for another concept), jade uses shock the heart on you <3)

✧ Jade who has been stalking cute, oblivious you. You’re so very pregnant, too, and because of that you’re often so focused on everything regarding your and the baby’s health that you fail to notice him. He stalks you, follows you wherever you go, adores watching you waddle about in pretty maternity wear. Even when you don’t intend to look nice or dressed up, you’re still a beautiful vision to him. Unfortunately, Jade’s always wanted a family with you, but you just had to go and get pregnant while he was bogged down with work. It’s upsetting and he’d sooner cut the one responsible for knocking you up into bloody shreds, but he can be patient. He can learn to love your baby even if they’re not his.

So that’s why he watches and waits for the right moment. The right moment to break in and subject your lover to a gruesome death. He knows you’d sleep through the roughest of storms, so he’s rather surprised when he hears your footfalls on the stairs. He’s in the middle of cleaning when you see him, the intruder in your home who's soaked in blood and standing over your lover's corpse. It’s quiet for all of one second and he opens his mouth to say something, but you’re just so beautiful in your nightgown and your bump is so round and filled with child and he’s so envious because this is what he’s always wanted and he’s never been able to have it and… He grabs you before you can run or call for help, silencing your screams with a hand held tightly over your mouth. You struggle, but it’s weak and awkward with your belly in the way. He soothes you with shushes, promising you he won't do anything if you stay quiet, but you're sobbing in his arms, trying and failing to muffle your cries because he told you being noisy won't end well.

Oh, you're more than perfect. You're everything.

Jade guides you back to your bedroom. You don't struggle much, but you're trembling, cradling your belly with shaky hands, and pleading: "Please, please, please... I won't call anyone. I won't do anything. So please don't hurt my baby."

Great Seven, he loves you! You make it so hard for him to hate you, do you know that? He couldn't even if he tried, and he's definitely tried.

Jade doesn't trust you, though, so forgive him when he frightens you, looming over you while he forces you to lie down. He's read up on positions, so depending on how far into your pregnancy you are he'll fuck you in the ones that are most safest and comfortable. He can't help it when your fear and trembly little whimpers make him so hard. And even though he knows he ought to wash the blood off before he does this, he's desperately impatient to have you. He's waited far too long; you must reward him for being good and waiting.

He'll work you open with skilled fingers, absently commenting about how your pussy clings to his fingers, breathlessly enamored at the way pregnancy has softened you. He's only put the second one in and you're already shuddering through an orgasm. You're truly the cutest; oh, how he wishes it had been him who got to knock you up. But it's okay; he can pretend for now. He will when he lays his hands on your belly and sweetly rambles on about how you're such a pretty mama, so good and loving, so perfect for this, so protective of your baby... He won't hurt them; he could never.

You're babbling beneath him, begging him to stop, that you're scared, that you don't want this, that it's all too much and it feels weird and you can't stop speaking in gasps and moans. Jade knows you better than you know yourself; you like this and (one day) you'll like him, too.

He almost cums the minute he slips it in. He's a mess and so sensitive. Normally he can keep his composure, but when you're so slick and tight, your walls enveloping every inch of his cock like they're starved for it, how can he possibly remain prim and perfectly composed? Sex isn't a punishment (not this time) and he's not upset with you and your choice of lovers. You have him now, and he's all you'll ever need going forward. So he's soft and slow, savoring every thrust, relishing in your voice as it wavers between fear and pleasure. He wants to hear his name from your lips; he whispers it between his own grunts: "Please... My love, my darling pearl, please say it..."

And you whine it, whimper it, sob it, say it in every way he likes because now it's the only name you know. Because it's scary to imagine what he might do if you say another man's name.

Jade's the happiest; he feels so whole and fulfilled when he's rutting into you, pressing kisses to every inch of your skin, cradling your rounded tummy and muttering sweet things to the baby: "You're so lucky to have such a wonderful mama... Oh, she's the most darling... I have to do my part to be a wonderful father, too. I'll meet your every expectation. That's a promise."

Now that Jade finally has you, he won't let you go. You're all his, but you already know that. You're far too defenselessly gravid to think about fighting back or escaping. It's better this way. Easier, even. And though he likes a challenge, he'd prefer one where it won't risk your and the baby's safety. After all, he loves you more than he's ever loved anything before. He won't lose you.

✧ Jade who uses Shock the Heart on you.

He's spent so much time wearing you down to a point where his UM will work, so when he catches and corners you you're already so mentally exhausted, so frightened of what he'll do and what he's capable of. His smile sharpens when you make the mistake of looking into his left eye. There are so many questions he wants to ask you, and now that you're under his temporary control he'll scrape the answers out of you.

He asks why you avoid him so much even though he can guess your reasonings well enough. He toys with you for the first few questions; most of them are things he's already well aware of. But it's fun to watch you speak the truth, to see panic reflected in your eyes when you know you're spilling the real reason behind all of your evasive behaviors. Jade suspects you expect him to lash out, but he's not so cruel as to punish you right away.

He needs the build-up.

He makes the mistake of asking who you're fond of, and though you try your hardest to lie your way out it just doesn't work. He's pinned you to the wall now, gripping your throat with a gloved hand. It tightens every now and then to remind you of the hold he has on you, magically and physically. Jade had braced himself for your reply long ago, so if you name a specific student you can be sure they've earned Jade's ire and dislike. He's terribly possessive; you ought to know this, and he tells you so while you shrink under his gaze.

The interrogation is a whirlwind. You're even more exhausted by the end of it, your mind spinning and filled with static. You feel so drained, hollowed of every damning truth you've done well to keep concealed. Jade licks his lips like he's just feasted on your fear and all of the truths you've uttered. It's cute you think this is the end of this exchange.

He has a proposition for you and you'd be wise to agree. He speaks his terms while his fingers dance along the hem of your uniform, teasing the fabric. Maybe he'll tear it from your person. Maybe he'll leave it be. Maybe he'll slide his hand under it to feel what's beneath. You're doing everything you can to avoid him, looking elsewhere and insisting you'll agree if he just lets you go.

He catches your chin between his fingers and forces you to meet his mismatched stare. For good measure, he slots his knee between your legs. He's smiling in spite of the friendly chill in his words.

"It's common courtesy to maintain eye contact when having a conversation. Surely you're not that much of a fool. Oh, but perhaps you are. You broke so easily under my command..."

You try to plead again: "Jade, please..."

But he won't hear any of it. He drags your face to his and seals the distance with a fleeting kiss.

"Per the terms, you're intended to say..." he encourages, digging his fingers into your jaw until it's painful.

You whine. "I... I like you, Jade! I always have!"

"And is that the truth?"

"It is. It is, I swear."

It's not and he knows this. But soon it will be.

It's a shame he can only use Shock the Heart once. He would have liked to hear the revised truth after he's done well to instill it in you.

✧ You save a beached eel merman from drying out, and as thanks he returns on a weekly basis to deliver goods from the deepest parts of the sea.

You can't understand his language, and he can just barely parse yours, struggling through foreign pronunciations. His language is musical and beyond whimsical; you can't decipher it on land, but in the water the sounds are much clearer. It's so pretty, but you have no idea what any of the calls mean. He clicks above the water sometimes, if only to get your attention while you're sorting through the trinkets and treasures he's brought you. For the most part, your bond is built through body language.

He spells a translation of his name in the sand, the letters wobbly: Jade. You spell yours in return and he spends weeks learning how to say it properly. Beyond that, though, neither of you can understand the other's spoken language. So you gesticulate a lot, and Jade understands most of what you try to articulate. You're a very amusing human. He likes to toy with you by bringing back skeletal remains or halves of his meals, bloodied and brutal. Your reactions are immensely pleasing, and he's so intrigued by your species that he continues to come back even after he's repaid his gratitude.

You bring him human things, most of which are things he's never seen or tasted or studied before. Everything you show him is so curious, and he can't help himself when he grows increasingly interested day by day. He keeps his hands to himself, mostly, if only to prevent you from running off. But you remain, even after he's scared you senseless with fish heads and their innards. He feels appreciated when you wait for him by your usual meeting place, and it isn't long before he becomes chained in a lovely habit. You are the current highlight of his life.

But then mating season rolls around, and he's left irritable, his plans put on hold as he suffers through what feels like a never-ending ache. He refuses to let go of the eggs he's made. He'll only do so if it's inside you. He's so adamant about this even though he's in such discomfort. So when he's hit his breaking point and his family encourages (or more so forces him) to meet you, he listens to instinct, tossing reason and logic aside. It doesn't matter if your species aren't compatible; he's determined to make this work. He loves you, he wants you, he needs you!

Jade seems...different when he meets you at your usual spot. His coloration is much brighter than it normally is, and the dark patterns striped across his body stand out starkly against vivid teal. When you reach out to feel his forehead, wondering if this is some sort of mer illness, he flinches and makes a sound you've never heard him make before. It's guttural and abrupt, almost like a growl or a groan. His claws dig into the sand, and his pupils are blown wide.

The pieces click together when he pushes you down onto the ground and drags himself onto the shore, trapping you between sturdy, muscled arms. He's heavy when he drapes himself on you, and you struggle beneath him, frantically asking what's gotten into him and if he's okay. He smiles at you; it's a shaky smile, and he looks at you like you're just what he needs to breathe. You're not sure what to make of this, but your situation only becomes much more harrowing when sharp, dangerous claws tear your clothes from your skin, shredding your panties in a haste. You shake your head hurriedly, but none of your words register. He can't understand you, and if he understands your body language he chooses not to listen.

He's saying something in mermish, but nothing makes any sense. You're certain none of it is any good, not when he reaches to cradle your cheek with a webbed hand, rubbing his claw along your jaw. The gesture feels fond, as if he's your lover, but you don't want that. You want him to let you go. And he keeps clicking at you, smiling sweetly, drunkenly, his front pressed to yours. He fumbles with your anatomy, feeling you all over and squeezing curiously in certain areas. Even the slightest reaction, such as a hitched breath or a gasp or even a whimper, has him zeroing in on the exact space that prompted that sound. You grasp at his shoulders, begging him to stop, but he silences your pleas with a kiss that's wet and sloppy, all tongue and saliva. You feel gross in the aftermath, breathless and horribly hot, and your throat tingles with a foreign heat. You think his saliva is responsible for your sudden bodily change, your every nerve alight with a growing need.

But that becomes the least of your concerns when you spy his slit, slick with a substance you've never seen any humans produce before, and horror dawns on you when his prehensile cock slides out. You thrash beneath him, horrified and scared and panicked. Something akin to sadness flashes across his countenance and he babbles at you in a series of fast, high clicks. You stare helplessly at him, mouth agape in horror.

He looks back with a wide-eyed stare and slowly parts his mouth in response. You don't understand the gesture.

"Mine..." he grinds out. "Mine to...mate." He rests his hand on your stomach and nods, and in three poorly pronounced words he's conveyed more than enough.

You shake your head at him, but he's so focused on spreading your pussy open. Despite his claws, monstrous and cold, he's delicate when he handles you with mute intrigue. You think he isn't intending to hurt you with his prodding, but then with the heat building in your core it feels so tantalizingly good.

He rocks his hips against you, and that strange cock slips between your folds. You don't have time to brace yourself for the stretch when he pushes inside, easing past rings of tight muscle, and you throw your head back against the sand, your cries strangled with moans. He clicks at you, but it's garbled with his own soft gasps. Briefly, you wonder if this is his first time.

He fucks into you like it's the last time he'll ever get to, his tail wrapping between your legs. By the time your first orgasm washes over you, you've already ceased struggling, too boneless to offer any resistance when your thoughts are compromised and your entire body screams to be fucked thoroughly. You don't think twice when he shivers against you, filling you with something slick. It's not very viscous, but it also doesn't feel like semen. You try to ask him what it is, but he doesn't understand. You're not sure you understand yourself either, what with all of the mindless filth you're babbling.

But then a second, much larger cock joins the first inside and if you weren't full before you definitely feel it now. You open your mouth to protest, but he captures it in a long, passionate smooch that quite literally steals your breath. You're whining into his mouth, loud and reedy just as something small and gelatinous passes through, settling deep in your womb. There's a second that follows and then a third, fourth, and fifth; and soon you've lost count just how long you've spent laid out on the beach, plastered to the ground like a beached whale, while the eel mer above you stays pinned to you. It didn't take you long to realize the little pudgy orbs are eggs, each one taking up residence in your packed womb until you're fit to burst. You lift your head from the sand to peer at your belly in the aftermath, a great round thing, bloated as if you've just eaten your fill and much more.

Jade is all over you, fondling and petting, beaming so proudly despite how obviously exhausted he looks. He's clicking again and this time you think you can understand the general gist of what he's saying: You did so well. Good job. But maybe his words are more fond than that. Maybe there's more romance to his speech when he looks at you like you're the most precious being in his universe (and you are, but no words from your or his lexicon could ever truly explain that). You're not sure if your guess is right, but you do know that this isn't the end. If anything, it's the beginning.

Together, you'll build a beautiful family. Your fry will want for nothing; Jade will do all he can to ensure that you'll carry to term and that the surviving little ones live healthy lives, and you'll be by his side, forever and always, his precious mate.

[ellecdc]

L…. idk if youre up for mega angst…. but how did cbbh sirius take the news of vix’s disappearance + death as it happened 🥲 like i cant imagine how deathly nervous he’d be at headquarters, hearing about the attack and anxiously waiting for his bestfriend and partner, holding out hope that they’d walk through the door with battle scars but alive …. Then a few hours later only James returns 🥲🥲🥲 pain

I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this *sniffles and throws this at you all* I hope it was worth it, because I'm calling the police (thank you for your support and your request, I love you)

CW: hurt/NO comfort, (believed) death of a loved one, grief, physical injuries, vomiting

I'll Find You

Lily had a bad feeling about this.

Granted, that was nothing new about this war, but something felt intrinsically wrong right now.

Lily and Sirius had gotten a message from Dumbledore stating Benjy and Emmeline had portkeyed back to headquarters to report on their findings, while Jamie and Y/N stayed behind to finish up the stakeout. 

Sirius met Lily at her and James’ flat where they decided to head to headquarters to await your arrivals.

The only way to access the headquarters was through portkey – for security purposes – meaning that upon arrival, Lily spent about twenty minutes having to soothe an upset baby Harry.

“Portkey is no way for babies to travel, huh Haz?” Sirius cooed at his godson. 

Lily wanted to smile at the view, but she couldn’t shake this heavy feeling in her stomach.

“Something’s wrong, Pads.” She murmured.

Sirius grimaced. “I don’t feel great about this either. I mean, two days of silence at a supposed Death Eater meet-up? What’s that about?”

They followed the sound of gentle conversation when they found Dumbledore and Minerva conversing with Benjy and Emmeline.

“We saw nothing yesterday. I think we need to consider where this intel is coming from because they were either way off or are planning something sinister.” Benjy could be heard saying, causing Sirius to suck in a sharp breath.

“Thank you, Mr. Fenwick. I’ll let you know when we have word.” Dumbledore said as he dismissed the two Order members.

“Mr. Black, Mrs. Potter. And baby Harry...” McGonagall was all business until she spotted the small infant in Lily’s arms. “May I?” She asked.

Lily handed over the child who went with little-to-no fuss.

“What happens if this tip was a bust?” Sirius asked Dumbledore.

Dumbledore took in a breath and looked between his two former students.

“If the tip ends up being wrong, or worse – fabricated – we may need to consider moving the Potter’s into hiding.”

Lily groaned. “There’s a chance the Death Eaters don’t even know about the prophecy.”

“Yes, but desperate people go to great lengths when they feel threatened. We do not want them to find out and, in turn, find you.” Dumbledore argued.

Lily understood; really, she did. But her maternity leave already had her feeling like she was in hiding, and she was sick and tired of feeling so useless. 

“There are Voldemort sympathisers in the Ministry, Red. We have no idea what they could know.” Sirius pointed out.

Sirius and Dumbledore spent the next while discussing different aspects of the war, next steps, new leads, past battles, and Sirius’ job at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement before Lily couldn’t take it anymore.

“What time were they supposed to report back?” She spat.

Dumbledore’s eyes moved to consider the redhead. “We agreed no later than 21:30. 

Lily looked down at her watch. “Well, it’s 21:45.”

The three sat in silence as they let that fact wash over them.

“They left at 07:45 this morning,” Sirius supplied.

“They met with Em and Benjy before apparating to the location together and scouting the area.” Lily added.

“Okay so fourteen hours in the field? That’s too much.” 

“It’s not too much if there hasn’t been any activity.” Dumbledore argued.

Sirius stood up suddenly. “We need to go. Where’s this location?”

“Son, that is not how things work. We cannot risk giving away our intel or sending more people into the front lines of a battle.”

“That’s my partner out there, and my best friend – I cannot stand here and do nothing.” Sirius spat furiously.

“You can, and you will, Mr. Black.” He challenged.

“We’ll give them 45 minutes. If we haven’t received a patronus from them in that time, we’ll reconvene.” McGonagall placated.

Sirius spent the next 37 minutes pacing a hole in the concrete floor beneath him whilst Lily chewed a hole into her lip.

The ringing sound of a portkey suddenly echoed through the room before a figure fell unceremoniously into the wall and slid to the ground. Lily could tell by the size and the sobbing that it was James.

“What happened?!” Sirius barked as all four adults stood and made their way to James.

“Trap. Trapped, it...” James huffed between sobs and coughs before he leaned over and threw up on the floor.

“What’s trapped?” Dumbledore inquired as Harry started to fuss in McGonagall’s arms.

“Minerva, can you take Harry away please?” Lily pleaded. The matriarch offered a quick nod and left the room with the infant. 

“Death Eaters - it was a trap - she knew.” James got out through gasps.

He was covered in ash and dirt with various wounds bleeding along his person.

“Who knew?” Lily asked.

“Vix! She knew!” He screamed in agony.

“Where is she?” Sirius asked quietly.

James continued trying to breathe through his hyperventilating.

“WHERE IS SHE?!” 

“She’s gone, Pads, she...” James paused as he threw up again. Lily couldn’t tell if he was sick from his grief or his wounds. Perhaps both.

“No, no. She’s not gone. She was just with you. You left with her this morning.” Sirius argued calmly. “Where is she?”

James shook his head as his face crumpled in agony and tears spilled from his eyes.

“She saved me, she...she made sure I got out. I’m sorry, Sirius.”

“I don’t need you to be SORRY, I need you to TELL ME WHERE SHE IS.” Sirius bellowed.

“Sirius...” Lily whispered.

“Fuck OFF. Where IS SHE? WHERE IS SHE?”

“Sirius, son, I need you to calm down.” Dumbledore spoke quietly.

“I need to find her. I’ll find her. Tell me where she is. Where is she?”

“She’s GONE. She’s GONE, I FUCKING KILLED HER IT’S ALL MY FAULT.” James sobbed.

“She can’t fucking be gone! She can’t! I just kissed her goodbye this morning, I just saw her! SHE WAS JUST WITH YOU.”

“There were anti-apparition wards up when she started to be concerned about – about it being a trap since we hadn’t seen anything all day. There was fiendfyre. They were burning the fucking building down. Then I was hit and I...I don’t know. She got us out, and then...and-and then a bombarda and she...”

“No.” Sirius said plainly.

“Pads.”

“No.”

“She told me, she told me to go. She said-”

“No.”

“She told me to thank you for her, that she didn’t regret a thing.”

“No.”

“That she was so grateful for you, and that loving you was worth every minute of it. She’d do it again.”

“Stop.” Sirius begged miserably. 

“She said she loved you.”

“SHE DIDN’T LOVE ME. SHE LOVES ME.” Sirius screamed.

“She loves me NOW! Not loved me past! I have to find her. I have to find her. Red,” He turned his sights to Lily.

“Please, please. I have to find her. Please, I have to. I’ll find her. Please.”

Lily’s tears were streaming down her face. “I’m sorry, Sirius.”

“Don’t be sorry! Don’t, I-” He looked desperately to everyone in the room.

“I don’t want anyone to be sorry! I just want her! I need her, please...” he sobbed.

“I’m sorry.” James repeated.

“STOP FUCKING SAYING THAT!”

“Sirius.” Lily murmured.

“I have been on countless missions with your wife, and I have always brought her home, back to you!” Sirius spat furiously at James. “I’ve never let anything happen to your wife. I TRUSTED YOU! Y/N... she-she trusted you!”

James sobbed again as his face contorted in agony.

“Sirius, that’s not fair.” Lily pleaded.

“Fuck off! What’s not fair is you get to go home with your husband tonight and Y/N is gone.” Sirius bellowed as his face fell in realization. “She’s gone.” He whispered. 

The room fell painfully silent as Sirius stared into space, murmuring to himself.

“She loved me...not loves me...I said goodbye...a kiss, she had breakfast, what did she eat? What did she have for breakfast this morning.  Oh gods, I can’t remember.”

“Sirius.” Lily asked gently as she went to touch his shoulder. He flinched away from her.

“I think she had cereal; it was cereal. She had cereal for breakfast. I think her bowl is still in the sink. Oh gods, her things. All of her things. She can’t be gone? She can’t be gone...I have all of her things. She needs her things...she’s-” He was cut off by a shuddering breath.

“My girl.” He whispered in agony. 

The other three members let Sirius gather his thoughts before his eyes flew to Lily.

“Lily...she...”

“I know, Pads.”

“I can’t do this without her.”

“I know, Pads.”

The heavy weight of the loss began to settle amongst the friends before Dumbledore spoke solemnly. 

“I think it’s time the Potter’s go into hiding.”

[autumnhobbit]

It’s like people believing St. Gianna ‘died to save her unborn baby.’

THAT’S NOT TRUE. She did not 100% say ‘let me die so my baby can live.’ She did say that for herself she would prefer prioritizing her child’s well-being if it came down to it, but she didn’t just accept dying, she had surgery to operate on her ovarian cyst while pregnant, which is not an abortion but is risky. She did not die of the cyst even, she died of a later infection after her daughter was born. She did not choose to die, and her death did not ‘save’ her baby, that’s almost never how that works.

Or when people imply St. Maria Goretti died ‘protecting her purity.’ No. She died trying to save Alexander (her would-be rapist’s) soul. She wouldn’t have lost her purity had she submitted to him to save her own life, she wouldn’t have sinned even if she killed him in self-defense. But he was enraged because she fought him, and she wasn’t fighting or begging for her purity, she was telling him ‘this is a sin, you will go to hell if you do this!’

it’s literally so easy look up facts before posting wrong information 😭

[serenetoru]

cw: fem!reader, maternal death, unintentional manipulation(?), just ANGST💔

just imagine.

you and Satoru has been inlove for the longest time, completing eachother like yin and yang. He was your highschool sweetheart and you two loved eachother so dearly. The two of you got married a few years later, everything was going fine mostly. You two has a very demanding job as sorcerers but something has been going on through Satoru’s mind lately and that is to have a child with you.

One night he asked you if you wanted to build a family with him, he had a big and happy smile on his face but all of that changed when you told him something that he didn’t expect for you to say. He was stunned, he doesn’t doubt your love for him ofcourse but its just the way you look so scared and rigid. It makes it seems like you dont want to have a child with him. He was heartbroken and felt betrayed just because he got denied to make your love eternal by having a child. Yes, he knows the consequences of having a child with you but he will try his best if you give him the chance.

Ever since that day he asked you constantly to atleast give it a thought but with each passing day he grew more and more agitated because of your replies.

“please love, just think about it. Having a mini you— or a mini me running around the house.. wouldn’t that be wonderful?” he pleads to you but as always you just look away and frowned. Saying that line he always hear. “Satoru, you know with our demanding jobs as sorcerers make it impossible right?” his eye twitched at those words. He out of all people understood the consequences but he was willing to pay the price. He was mad, ofocurse he was. Baring your very soul and love to the one person you love just to get shut down, he was hurt.

He became cold and nonchalant ever since that and it made you feel like a wreck. You confronted him about his lack of communication and asked him if you did anything wrong, coaxing him with a gentle touches and affection only for him to shut it down. Now you are mad. The two of you argued for the longest time, asking what was wrong with him.

“oh you wanted to know what’s wrong?” he looks at you daringly, you wanted to cry at that spot and when a tear slips down your eyes he finally snapped back. His eyes widened and came rushing to you. The two of you talked it out and you gave him the reason why you don’t want to have a child right now. He understands the reason and knows how much of a burden it was. But he was willing to carry it all, to experience your love even deeper.

once again the idea was shot down by you even when he had coaxed. “Ofcourse i understand your worries for the future and our children, but that doesn’t make me selfish from wanting to start a family with the love of my life right?” you only looked down in shame. “its not fair because i do want to have kids with you too. More than anything. But-“ Satoru's heart felt like it's twisting and churning in his chest. he wanted to believe you, he really did. He loved you so much, to the point where he would do anything for you. But still, he was hurt that you always gave him an answer he didn't want to hear. it felt like it was just one excuse after another. "but not enough to agree with me." he says quietly, his tone sounding slightly bitter.

after a lot of convincing and well, guilt tripping— you finally agreed to have children with him. He was ecstatic, giving you the best things he could ever lay his hands on. Spoiling you nonstop.

it was time for the labor and he was nervous yet also excited about it, he couldn’t wait to finally meet his son. After hours of waiting and pacing around the room like a nervous wreck he is the doctor finally came out of the room. His eyes widened as he looked and touched his son for the first time, his eyes were watery and couldn’t contain the happiness he felt. But something was wrong, incredibly wrong. The doctor looked down and handing the baby, Satoru felt like his chest was tightening from the pressure and he felt like his world just shattered when he heard the doctor said that you passed away.

he felt like he wanted to puke, his face was pale, and his ears were ringing. There was no way that you died. There just no way-

“h-how.. why..?” he managed to croak out, his voice was broken and hoarse. The love of his life was so easily ripped away from him in the matter of hours. It was just yesterday when the two of you had talked about the future you two wanted together and now you were leaving him alone and empty in this hollow life. The doctor told him that from the start you have a very weak uterus, that you could only give birth at the cost of your own life. His heart shattered at that, he couldn’t move. You had warned him from the start, all those talks and he was completely oblivious at the signs.

he had ignored everything you told him simply just because he wanted to start a family with you. He selfishly asked you and now he was left alone in his miserable life, someone he cared about was once again been taken away from him and it was all his fault. He was the one that wanted the child right? the one that continued to insist on starting a family. And he was just paying the price. The price of the love of his life. He should’ve listened from the start but it was too late now the damage has already been done and there was no way to reverse it.

-

A/N: just a quick summary of this bot that i chatted with!😋 enjoy guys👊

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Talk. || baby daddy!Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

[MASTERLIST]

Rating: M Words: 2.2K~ Pairing: dad!gaz x mother!reader CW: canon-typical violence, events of MW2019 (references), CHILD DEATH (mentioned), pregnancy, underage!! pregnancy, some cultural/religious judgements regarding underage/out-of-wedlock pregnancy, birth (references). Tags: you/your pronouns, (reader implied female because 'mum', 'mama' and other nicknames are used + mentions of pregnant!user), hurt/comfort, fluff?, military inaccuracies I'm sure. Summary: Gaz and the reader are co-parents of a 10-year-old girl (the result of a teen pregnancy). Gaz calls home to talk to his family and he's having a bit of a breakdown after a mission. a/n: This happens in the MW2019 game timeline, somewhere after the Butcher's interrogation. NOT PROOFREAD, NO BETA WE DIE LIKE MEN.

“SIMISOLA RUBY GARRICK, I WILL NOT CALL YOU AGAIN, GET DOWN HERE!” You shout at the top of your lungs, your voice reverberating all the way to the upper floor of your small townhouse.

“IN A MINUTE!” The girl’s voice calls out from upstairs for the… umpteenth time in the last 10 minutes.

“I swear, Kyle, this girl will be the death of me one of these days.” You tell him. “I’m not well-equipped to deal with a teenager.” You grumble as you look at Kyle’s face on the phone screen.

“She’s not a teen yet, lovie.” He retorts with a little smile. “She’s only 10.” He reminds you.

“She’s teenager enough for my taste. Bloody ignoring me whenever I call her!” You reply with a bit of a huff.

“She’s gettin’ older.” He says simply. “You tellin’ me you obeyed your mum every day at her age?” He asks.

“No, but…” You trail off and sigh, dejectedly. “I hate when you make sense, you know that?” You retort, glaring right at him with your best attempt at the ‘mum stare’, but it’s not as effective through the phone.

“Sorry, mama. One of us has to.” She adds with a mischievous smirk on his full lips. He knows how much you like it when he calls you that.

“Shut it, Garrick, I don’t want to hear it.” You retort and you can hear, and see, him giggling on the other side.

From the way the area around him has gotten progressively darker as you spoke for the last 30 minutes, you can tell he’s somewhere out East, somewhere where the sun is starting to set, since in Birmingham it’s only 3 P.M. and still fully bright outside.

“How’s the OP goin’?” You ask despite knowing that he’s not allowed to say anything about it so he simply shoots you a look before raising his fingers to bring a cigarette to his lips, taking a good long drag.

“It’s goin’ fine enough.” He adds and shrugs, before looking off to the distance just off-camera. He’s… lying. You can tell from the way his eyes furrow and his scarred cheek scrunches in frustration.

Turning your head back up, you aim your eyes at the stairs. “BLOODY FUCKIN’ HELL, SIMI, DAD’S ON THE PHONE FOR YOU!” You announce to what, at this point, has to be the ghosts that kidnapped your daughter because she refuses to come downstairs.

Your ears pick up on the sound of her bedroom door flying open and her feet taking her through the carpeted hall and down the steps.

You watch her coming through the vintage, little pass-through window in your kitchen. “Did’ya say dad?!” The dark-skinned girl says as she comes sliding around the corner and into the room.

“Oh, THAT lights a fire under your arse, innit? But not all those other times I told you to come down? What if I was dying, huh?” You scold her and she immediately smiles the same impish smile your baby daddy is sporting on the phone screen. He loves seeing you be maternal.

“Sorry, Mamsie.” She says while showing absolutely no regret at all in her young features. Shaking your head, you pass the phone over to Simi, whose face lights up at the sight of Kyle. “Dad!”

“Oi, kiddo!” You hear Kyle say through the phone as Simisola takes the phone with her down to the sitting room and parks herself on the sofa, talking about all sorts of things with her dad.

You watch her for a moment through the pass-through window. She’s bouncing excitedly, talking about school, her mates, her grades… It’s not often she gets to talk to Gaz, less even that she gets to see him.

Sometimes you wonder if the unpredictability of his job is going to mess her up one day. I mean, her chances of that are already high enough considering the two of you are merely 28 and have been raising her since you were still kids yourselves… But the fact he’s more gone than around in her day-to-day life is bound to mess her up too…

Maybe you should get her into some therapy, just in case.

But then again, she seems surprisingly unaffected by all of this. She’s healthy, smart, sweet… a bit of a smartass (she takes after her dad in that)... And above all else, she seems... happy.

All things considered, of all the blokes that could’ve gotten you knocked up at seventeen, Kyle Garrick was the best option… And your daughter was the best outcome possible.

Sure, you weren’t official or anything back then (nor are you now, really... though you share a bed and a home and you kiss and-), the pregnancy had been an unforeseen consequence of a tryst in the back of a car after drinking at the local pub… But looking back, you got lucky.

Either way, you were both too young, too eager, too needy, too… stupid. Neither of you thought of condoms, hoping the ‘trusty’ pull-out method would suffice.

It didn’t.

You still remember the way you had a panic attack in a toilet stall at school, you and a girlfriend skipping class to pop over to Tesco and buy a box of pregnancy tests… She took one with you, just to ease your worries… And then yours came out positive.

The fear and absolute dread you felt was paralyzing, the way you stayed holed up in the loo while your friend tried to console you and used her fuschia Motorola Razr to text your other friends to come to the toilets after class.

From there, your girlfriends texted his mates, and by the time you noticed, Kyle was elbowing his way into the bathroom, past the group of waiting students, all of them mutual friends of you both. He spotted you sitting on the dirty tile floor in the corner, eyes glued on the pregnancy test in your hand. You were ugly crying, snot all over, and hyperventilating.

Even back then, Kyle was already years ahead of any other teen you knew. He was mature and calm, collected… He sat beside you, rubbed your back, and told you it’d all be okay. You know deep down that he only held it together to calm you down but once he was alone he probably cried like a baby too.

His parents are Nigerian immigrants. In their minds, there was an order of doing things and their only son getting a girl pregnant before marriage (or before hitting maturity, really) was NOT it.

And your parents, well… They weren’t very happy about it either. Not that any parent ever is when their daughter comes home and drops the bomb that she’s expecting.

That was a bad moment for your lives… You both lived with your parents and you had to go back and forth between school and baby appointments… Kyle was by your side the whole time (or as much as he could, considering he had enlisted as soon as he hit 18) and both your parents tried their best to be supportive… But you never quite earned Mr. and Mrs. Garrick’s affection. Not even now, 10 years later.

At first, they didn’t even want to believe the baby was Kyle’s. Your father ended up having some very heated choice words with Mr. Garrick, defending your honor, and almost bringing the house down screaming that you weren’t a slag.

You were on edge and depressed back then. Once the news spread, most of your friends stopped hanging out with you out of pressure put on by their own parents… They still smiled at you and showed encouragement to you whenever you saw each other… But they didn’t come over anymore, barely spoke to you in the halls… 

People stared in the streets… Whenever you went into a baby shop or the diaper aisle at the supermarket… You were stared at. The whispers of “Look at her, such a slag”, “So young and already up the duff…” never came, at least not that you heard them, but you found yourself clutching your mum’s arm particularly hard whenever she managed to drag you out of the flat and to the shops.

You don’t like looking back on the pictures of that year in sixth form. As much as you love your child, seeing the way your face became hollow and sad, your eyes weighed down by dark circles as your belly grew consistently until nothing you wore fit you right… It still stung.

You wonder how you managed to retain enough mental faculties to not earn yourself a post-partum depression diagnosis. Whatever your brain did, it did it well...

With her skin all wrinkly and red and screaming at the top of her lungs, her little fists shaking, eyes all glossy, and a little clump of dark hair on her head slicked back by the amniotic fluid… You fell in love with Simi the moment the nurses set her against your bare chest.

And Kyle did too. You could see it in the way his eyes softened, his lip trembled and his nose and chin scrunched up to contain a wail. As soon as he held her in his arms for the first time, so small against his chest, her little body wrapped in a blanket against his fatigues... you started openly weeping at the sight, blaming the hormones, but the fact of the matter was that she was so small, so tender, so… perfect.

You tune out most of your daughter’s conversation with her father as you go about preparing dinner for the two of you, moving about the kitchen, lost in your own thoughts.

Your ears perk up when you hear Kyle ask Simi if she can pass the phone back to you and let the two of you have a conversation. The girl complains a bit about how much she misses him but ends up acquiescing to him. Daddy’s girl, she is.

She rushes over, her mini twists bouncing with each step as she drops the phone onto your hand and then waves an exaggerated “See you soon, dad!”. You watch her bounce away and trot back up the stairs before you look down at the phone.

Putting on your earpods, you set the phone down on the counter, propped up by the flour container so you can still be in frame as you go about breading some thin chicken cutlets. 

“What is it, Kyle?” You ask him softly and raise your brows at him. His face is a lot more grim and he lights a second cigarette.

“We lost a kid.” He replies softly. “A little boy in Urzikstan.” He adds and sighs loudly. Your whole face twists lightly into sadness. “Some… fuckin’ plonker of a terrorist…” He trails off.

“Did you kill him?” You ask him and he nods his head solemnly. You’ve learned long ago not to give your input too much on these topics… He’s chosen to keep you and your daughter away from it all… 

He once mentioned that asking to be let in would be like 'dipping your pinkie toe in a pond, never knowing if something would be reaching up to pull you in'. You swore he got that quote from a John Wick movie, and then you both laughed… But you knew he meant the sentiment of it.

“I had to stoop down to his level first.” He tells you as he takes another drag os his new cigarette. “Threatened his wife… his son… to get him to talk.” He trails off and sucks in a sharp breath.

Even with the progressive darkness that has set in now, wherever he is, you can still spot the way his nose scrunches as he tries to hold in his crying… His voice is still steady, but his eyes… Always so expressive… You’ve learned to read them in 10 years of co-parenting.

“Every time that bloody barrel even went slightly near that kid’s face I-” Kyle trembles out a breath and rolls his shoulders. Then, he goes quite.

“Anyways…” He says, trying to deflect his feelings away from the things he’s had to do. “I… I miss Simi… And I miss you.” He adds.

“We miss you too, Kyle.” You reply, trying your best to be positive for him. He needs it. “She can’t stop talking about you, counting down the days ‘till you walk through that door and come wrap her in one of those alledgedly ‘annoying’ bear hugs of yours.” You quip and a genuine smirk forms on his lips.

He nods and you notice him through away his cigarette and move somewhere else. As he walks you notice the space is brighter, the camera is facing upwards, and you can see the ceiling and ceiling lights… But above all else, you see his handsome face, the light wisp of a mustache and a goatee, the scar on his left cheek, his tired eyes, and disheveled hair.

He crosses a threshold into another darkened space, but this one is much quieter. You hear some shuffling sounds and even though now you really can’t see shit, you know he’s there, staring at you… And you know he’s lying down.

“Lovie… Can I ask you a favour?” He says as he sighs deeply and slowly.

“Yeah, what is it?” You end up saying as you set aside the breaded cutlets and wash your hands.

“Tell me everything I’m missing. Tell me everything that Simisola did and said… Tell me about your day… about work… share all the gossip you’ve got…” He requests. 

“Just… Just talk my bloody ear off.” He pleads. “I just need to hear your voice.” He adds, his tone a lot more gentler. “Please…”.