#she aborted the child she was going to have with him desperate to have no ties to him

[evesaintyves]

Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, rated M, eleven 200-word drabbles. Warning for mentions of abortion.

 She must have fallen asleep. She thinks it’s a fly crawling up her neck, for a minute, and nearly swats it before she realises it’s his mouth. Her heart gives a squeeze that is aching at the same time that it is sweet—how little it takes from him, these days, to wring a few drops of nervous hope from that tired old thing. But she turns to him, anyway, and they don’t speak but he kisses her a little, and fuck, there goes her gormless heart again.

Read it on Ao3.

I wanted to say a few things about what went into this fic below - and I will be talking about abusive relationships and abortion from a secular, pro-abortion-on-demand perspective, so if that's likely to trouble you I recommend giving it, and the fic, a miss.

This story is set around chapter 7 of Deathly Hallows, "The Will of Albus Dumbledore," when Lupin and Tonks leave Harry's birthday party to avoid being seen by Rufus Scrimgeour. This period of canon gives us several glimpses into how Lupin & Tonks's relationship is going and it strikes me as a really scary and unsafe time for Tonks. Lupin's unhappiness is so evident even Harry notices it, while she's described as "radiant," - meaning pregnant, but also that they're clearly not on the same page. Around this time we see Tonks facing some of the disturbing realities of being married to Lupin: Bellatrix's pursuit of her in the battle of seven Potters, having to flee from her boss so he doesn't see them together. Tonks's mentor is dead (and we see when that happens that Lupin's not all that interested in supporting her as she's reeling from it), Tonks's family is pretty unhappy with her (according to Lupin), things are unraveling.

(I'd like to point you to two takes I really love on how off-kilter their interactions are right before this, around the time Mad-Eye dies: Fallen Warrior by @bikelock28 and Mandible by @saintsenara - both of these authors have had a huge influence on my writing and my thinking about hp canon.)

I've always been kind of obsessed with this particular moment between Lupin and Tonks - when we see Lupin seize Tonks by the wrist and haul her out of the burrow. It's an alarming interaction, to me, that suggests the possibility of a very frightening dynamic setting up between them. Tonks is an adult, she's aware of the consequences of being seen together. I'm not even convinced she had to leave in the first place instead of changing her appearance or just making herself scarce upstairs for a while. There's no argument that leads Lupin to grabbing her out of desperation - he just says bye to Harry and hauls her away. Not by the hand, like he's trying to keep her from tripping or something. By the wrist, so she can't let go, which seems even more likely to unbalance her. It's a dismissal of her autonomy at the very least, he's treating her a bit like a child, and it's probably quite embarrassing for Tonks. The way she makes excuses for it the next day, in the context of everything else we're seeing about this relationship, only makes it all seem unhealthier. If I witnessed this interaction between a friend and her new husband, I'd be checking on her.

And in the midst of this rapidly-disintegrating relationship with this escalatingly-discontent and reactive husband - Tonks is finding out that she's pregnant, something that will complicate things even further and tie her to a man who does not really seem to want to be with her.

This fic came to be as I was thinking about the way Lupin talks about Tonks in "The Bribe," when he reveals that she's pregnant and they've split up, in a way that respresents this development as something abhorrent and humiliating but also downplays his culpability for it: ...then Lupin said, with an air of forcing himself to admit something unpleasant, "Tonks is going to have a baby." And how devastating that attitude might be for a Tonks who is happily pregnant.

But we don't really know how happy she is to be pregnant. We never hear about it from her. We see her as radiant in an early appearance, sure, and the baby ends up getting born, but that's all we really have to go on. And I have to wonder what options Tonks might have had if she didn't want to be pregnant or wasn't sure. She'd have had access to a legal abortion through the muggle health system up to 24 weeks, but there's evidence in canon that wizards are fearful of and disgusted by muggle medical practices (e.g. Arthur's stitches in OoTP). And wizarding society seems pretty regressive in some respects: people get married and have children young, there's no mention of divorce or blended families or out-of-wedlock babies - and yes, that's also because these are childrens' books (and books that privilege a certain kind of familial love above all else) but this is the text and the universe we have to work with. Notably, the immortal human soul demonstrably exists in this world and I think it's pretty safe to assume that most people believe in it - it seems to be pretty common knowledge that a dementor can remove the soul from the body and that ability is encoded into the wizarding penal system. What does that mean for abortion access in that world? Do wizards believe that an embryo or a fetus is an ensouled person and that it would be murder, or something like that, to terminate it? Even if a magical abortion is legal, what are cultural attitudes toward it like under this belief system? How difficult or inconvenient is it? I'll leave the particulars of how the wizarding legal and medical systems function to someone smarter than me, but... I work in health care, and I've seen the ways that even vague or minor barriers to access - stigma, embarrassment, misinformation, wait times or travel requirements, the levels of executive function and emotional regulation required to keep multiple appointments and talk to a bunch of providers about a sensitive issue - mean that some people who need care won't get it. We don't really know if Tonks unreservedly chose to keep her pregnancy, or if she just didn't have meaningful access to another option, or if access was just hard or unpleasant enough that she didn't make a decision until it was too late.

There's a tendency in some Remadora fic— including one of mine, in a way I didn't think much about until later—to frame the hypothetical of Teddy being aborted as a regrettable tragedy, thankfully averted by the power of true love, and not as a reasonable response to the difficult circumstances and something everyone might have moved on from and been fine - and I think that's understandable. Teddy's important to trajectory of Tonks and Lupin's lives. It's okay to love these characters and want everyone to be as happy and whole as their situations allow. And I think that we have some (at least mildly gendered) expectations that of course our faithful Tonks wants to stay married, wants a child with the person she loves. But I wanted to depict this slice of their relationship with sympathy for a Tonks who is seriously considering ending her pregnancy - who has at least as much reason as Lupin to just want shut of the whole thing. I would have, in her position. I have seen friends locked into horrible situations with abusive partners by pregnancy.  I think you could argue that not having Teddy and getting out of that relationship might have meant a different outcome for Tonks in the battle of Hogwarts. And I think that it's entirely possible for Tonks to have wanted an abortion that she didn't end up getting - for whatever legal, cultural, or psychological reasons - and for Teddy to still have been a welcome and loved child when he was born.

Anyway, let me know what you think.

[image: from francis bacon, three studies of figures on beds, 1972]

[dragscore]

i know what it feels like to have my soul sucked out of my body // i finally know what it feels like to be dead.

[moonydustx]

Part 2 from this request (thank u again @cartoonykat )

Mihawk, Lucci and Crocodile x F!Reader.

In short: how they would react to F!Reader saying she was pregnant, how they would deal with the child.

(get ready to read, the stories are a little long)

PART 1 HERE - Luffy, Zoro and Ace x F! Reader

Warnings are placed individually in each history.

requests open | one piece masterlist

Mihawk

warnings: fluff. Mihawk and f!Reader are married and want to have children. Mentions of F! Reader be a cook. Very brief mention of abortion (but it was in the past). Content a little spicy, nothing detailed or explicit. Mihawk speaks Spanish a few times in this one (I just couldn't help it). Princesa: princess. Cariño: kind of "Sweetheart"

You had already arranged your sundress countless times, as well as your hair, as well as the entire dinner table. You couldn't sit still, anxious for your husband's arrival. Today you celebrated three years of marriage and you knew that after a long two months, he would return home. You knew his temperament well enough to know that there were high chances of finding him in a bad mood, he hated spending long periods away from the castle and this had been the longest time of all. Of course, your anxiety had nothing to do with the little box hidden in the kitchen.

"Cariño?" You heard his voice from downstairs and in a matter of minutes you already had him in your field of vision. His expression lit up when he saw you and lifted you into his arms. "How I missed you!"

"Me too darling." his hat fell back as you peppered kisses across his face. "My God, how can you stay away all this time?"

"Problems, cariño, a long list of problems." your feet touched the floor again after the long hug. "And what amazing smell is that?"

"Let's just say I used my free time to prepare something special for both of us."

"You should be resting. Last time we spoke, you weren't well." his smile faded, replaced by an alert tone.

"I promise I'm okay." You tried to make conversation just like the day he called you and said you didn't look well. You were talking through a den den mushi, how could he realize that?

"Just give me a few minutes and I'll meet you in the dining room." he asked and placed a quick kiss on your lips.

The minutes of waiting seemed like endless hours, just like dinner itself. You were willing to listen to him talk about how complicated the days at the Cross Guild were, about the news in the world outside your little dome or even how delicious the dough you had prepared was. Your fingers intertwined with his and despite the physical proximity, your mind wandered on how to get to the subject naturally. You had already tried a few times, you had already lost once without even knowing that you expected it, you wanted - and needed - this time to be special.

"Princesa?" he called you, looking towards the cup in front of you. "You didn't like the wine I chose?"

"It's one of my favorites actually."

"Yet it remains untouched." he observed, noticing your hands restlessly hitting the table. "Is something going on?"

"First, I'll get this." You took the wine cork. "Second, wait here for a while."

Twisting the small piece of cork between your fingers - the one you would make sure to keep, you reached for the small box in the kitchen and before long it was standing in front of Mihawk.

"To what do I owe the honor of being presented like this, out of nowhere?" he began to undo the bow, setting the wine glass aside and using both hands to undo the wrapping.

Inside, there were some pregnancy tests, in your desperation to know if it was correct, you took a much larger quantity than necessary. Next to them, a small hawk plush. You had searched the nearby town while picking up fresh items for dinner. At first your idea was to just talk to him, but the stuffed hawk with yellow eyes stole your attention.

"How could I not notice?" he murmured, as if a thought had been spoken aloud. "That means it worked…"

"If you talk about all sex without a condom, without any protection… Drac!"

He pulled you from the chair onto his lap. The hands on your back served as much support as your arms around his neck. Your laughter echoed throughout the castle while Mihawk almost sloppily distributed kisses to any part of your face that he could find.

"How long have you known?" he asked euphorically, a type of state that was rare to find in hawk-eyes.

"A few weeks ago. No, I would never tell you that on a phone call." you interrupted him before he could complain.

For a few minutes, the two of you remained there. Swears like "I love you" "You just made me the happiest man in the world" they were uttered and kisses spread across your face. His hands, accustomed to the weight and brutality of swords, touched you gently. Not like you were something about to break, but rather like something he valued so much. As if he wanted to record every moment of that moment in his memory through the drawings of his hands on your body. The yellowish eyes practically penetrated your soul as you watched Mihawk.

"May I know what's going on in your beautiful head, my princess?" Mihawk's nose caressed your neck, earning a smile from your lips.

"Now you know. It was a low blow to choose my favorite wine." you mumbled, adjusting yourself in his lap.

"No alcohol for you from now on."

"Not for a while now. God, I'd kill for a full glass right now."

"Maybe I have a little idea of ​​how to satisfy that desire of yours."

"What do you say, hawk eyes." Your attentive eyes followed him as he brought the glass of wine to his mouth and slowly drank the drink, in silent provocation. "Are you capable of being so mean to your pregnant wife? I thought it was to satisfy my desire."

"Don't put it like that." He returned the cup to the immense table, his agile hands slid across the bare skin of your thighs. "I just want you to taste it in a new way."

The taste of wine invaded your lips when Mihawk trapped you in a kiss. His tongue opened space in you, eliciting a moan from you when you felt the much-desired taste invade your palate. In an improvised juggling act, without taking your lips off his, you adjusted yourself in Mihawk's lap. Before now your legs dangled around his body, looking for some kind of friction.

"Babe, I need you." you murmured against his lips and his hands held you even tighter, feeling his intimacy harden against yours. "Please, it's on my craving list too."

"Who knew what a little of the taste would do to you." his hands slid over your skin, he could clearly see your skin crawl. "It also seems like you're more sensitive, this is interesting."

"Why don't you take it off and find out?" you pulled his hands down to the hem of your dress.

"Do you want to take this upstairs?" he asked and instead of using words, you just took off the dress you were wearing, throwing it across the kitchen.

You didn't need to shout the news from the rooftops, that night it was enough for Mihawk that you screamed his name, that he valued the body that would be home to your two long-awaited baby. After eliciting screams, nectar and sweat from you unlike many other times when you spent hours caressing each other and talking, you remained awake for a short time. Then Mihawk could notice the small difference in your belly, how it seemed firmer and pointier, different from the last time he had ventured across your body.

"Sorry about the time out." he first made sure you were asleep and then leaned down to whisper against your skin. "I promise to make it up to you. Both of you."

You could notice the different way Mihawk looked at you and not that he didn't do it often, but it became more and more common to hear him say "You look amazing." "You are so beautiful." Soon after the discovery, you also discovered how your husband could go into hyperfocus and the time was to find a perfect home for you. It still hurt you to leave the castle behind, even if for a brief time, but he knew he had tasks to fulfill with the Cross Guild and because of that, he would need to spend more time away from your island home.

The small arranged mansion was also isolated and was a result of Crocodile's help. Despite having little contact with the main part of the island, it was much less minutes away than the old house. At least you would have space to redecorate the entire room to your liking.

"Woman, you really want to spare me from living a long life." Before your protests, you felt his arms wrap around you and take you off the ladder that you were balancing on to finish painting the room. "If this child turns out to be half as stubborn as you, I will be in big trouble."

"Baby, don't listen to your father's nonsense." you mumbled to your belly bump. "And you, did you manage to assemble the crib?"

"No." he practically whispered and as a way of irritating him, you pretended not to hear. "I'm going back to the city, I'm sure there must be something already done."

"You men, with your little swords, can't handle a new toy." You stood on your tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek. "Let's switch tasks."

"You women and your kitchen knives." he grumbled, watching you leave and then return only to look at him with judgement. "Okay, I've been an asshole now."

The light shade of yellow had just finished filling the walls when a bang took the eagle eyes' attention. Hearing you swear, it only took seconds for him to be on the doorstep, watching you contemplate the collapsed crib.

"What were you saying about swords?" he teased but your furious look made him change his mind - he swore he saw something red shine in your iris. "Tomorrow we'll go to town together and get one ready, what do you think my love?"

"A great idea."

"And for now, how about a hot bath, some music and grape juice." well, at least that was the way he had found to prevent you from drinking wine.

"Can we include a massage in the package?" you took advantage of the fact that he was behind your body to lean on him.

"Whatever my dear wife wants."

The house was already ready, toys, clothes and gifts from the most different friends were piling up and by a pure coincidence of fate, Luna arrived into the world on a full moon night. You would carry it in your soul when Mihawk's eyes - golden when they touched the moonlight - met the small pair of irises identical to his.

"My little Luna, you chose the right day to come." he whispered, pacing the sleeping girl from side to side. "You are so perfect."

"Just like her daddy." you answered.

In other situations you would end up in two camps: Mihawk would play the opposite and say that the most beautiful thing in the relationship is you or on days when he was really in a good mood, he would say how lucky you were to have him. That night, he just smiled at your comment. Not a provocative smile like most of the ones he had given his entire life. It was one of those that made the hawk's eyes become just a detail on his illuminated face.

"Thank you my love." he replied to you. "Thank you for bringing me a little piece of heaven, of all this infinity above us. Mi preciosa Luna."

When little Luna wasn't within your reach, you didn't need to make an effort to find her, she would be in her father's shadow. Whether in the moments he took to read or even in some Cross Guild meetings. The other two men didn't seem to mind the little girl's presence, who was always busy with something.

"I think we can… Hey, what's this?" Buggy screamed as he saw the girl climb over him. "Mihawk!"

"Let the girl have some fun. That's what clowns are for, aren't they?" Crocodile responded in a gentle tone while Mihawk kept his eyes on Luna, who without hesitation pulled one of Buggy's ears and sat on the couch next to him.

"You little brat!" the clown made to take the ear from her hand in an almost brutal way as he felt her digging the almost non-existent fingers into the cartilage of the ear. "That hurts."

"I wouldn't want to have to remove your other ear, permanently." Mihawk spoke calmly, as if he had just commented on an everyday fact.

"Sorry to interrupt." You walked into the room, attracting looks, especially from a certain little girl who realized that your ear wasn't that interesting anymore.

"Mami!" Luna immediately started throwing her little arms towards you and even though she tried to at least hide it in these situations it was impossible not to see Mihawk's eyes light up.

"She just took down a Yonkou, I'll be saving a spot on the team for her." Crocodile laughed when he saw your dissatisfied face. "Okay, I guess I'll have to settle for just a single hawk's eye."

On the same day, after a few long hours of meeting between them, you thought that at least your husband would want to rest, to remove any idea of ​​work from inside the house - despite his choice to have brought work into the house while the Luna was still small. Of all the places you expected to find yourself, you didn't expect to find Mihawk with little Luna on his lap, in front of them a large Cross Guild poster.

"Who's that?" Mihawk pointed at the figure.

"It's a crocodile." The word was slurred, but Luna said it anyway with a certain confidence. Again, the man asked, pointing to the next image. "The clown."

"And who is this?"

"Dada!" she cheered, making him laugh along and, consequently, you, happy with your little family.

Lucci

warnings: Lucci is a warning in itself. A lot of angst with a somewhat happy ending. F!Reader was also an agent, she had the fruit that transformed her into a kind of cat. Slightly troubled relationship between him and F!Reader. Completely based on the fact that Lucci is not a complete psychopath (I mean, egghead spoilers ahead: him asking for Kaku's life, how can we not love him? Besides the CP9 cover stories).

A few days had passed since the last time you and Lucci had seen each other in person. The voices demanding mission reports seemed distant as you watched him from the other side of the table and you had known him long enough to know that even though he seemed focused he was still able to see him glance casually in your direction and no one noticed.

You wished the brief meeting could have lasted longer, given you time to think more about what words to use, to fantasize that Lucci would be happy with the idea, but chills ran through your body just thinking about it.

"Hey, meow girl." Kaku nudged you with his shoulder, pulling you back to the real world. "I heard you got into trouble."

"You have no idea." You laughed heartily, pushing him back. "Call me meow girl again and I'll wring your huge neck."

"Hey, I'm just being nice."

"I bet you are, big guy." You pinched the tip of his nose, leaving him grumbling.

"Need to talk to you." Lucci's voice interrupted the two of you, stopping Kaku's laughter and complaints. The man just waved and walked away, leaving you and Lucci alone. "Not here."

He took the lead, his firm steps and serious posture didn't let anyone think anything other than that you - who followed him without the same grandeur - had gotten yourself into some kind of problem. The solid wooden door closed behind you as you noticed Rob Lucci walk through the space, filling two glasses of brandy and handing you one of them. The drink danced through your hands, but never reached your lips.

"You were restless today, pupils dilated, sweat on your face." He touched a temple, noticing the moisture. "What kind of problem did you encounter?"

"I'm pregnant." You ripped the band-aid off at once, with no time to let the thoughts flow through your mind.

The man took a few steps back, looking you up and down and then looking around the entire room. The small shot of brandy in his hand was downed in moments and he took the one you were holding from you, the liquid meeting the same fate.

"And what do I have to do with it?" you already knew his cold temper, but you didn't expect to hear such rude words.

"What do you have to do with this?" you snapped, approaching him. "What do you have to do with this? Use your fucking brain Lucci."

"What's wrong? How can you guarantee that this is my doing?" His tone dropped, becoming threatening. "I have nothing to do with this."

"I knew you could be an asshole, but after all this time?" you gave him a push Lucci didn't react, just letting his body move away.

"We had one night and that was it. This could be anyone's business."

The lie that came out of his lips hurt more than any blow you've ever taken in all these years fighting alongside him.

You threatened to push him, but this time he reacted by guiding your body to the wall and enclosing you in his arms. Your body contracted as you saw him punch the wall next to you and some pieces of concrete fall.

"Get out of here." his tone became a whisper and if it weren't for the argument you were already having, it was impossible to tell he was mad. "You get out of here and ask to leave Cipher Pol today. Ask or I'll throw you out."

How could you have been stupid to think that would lead anywhere? You thought Lucci could have changed something, all the times the two of you could have had some connection felt in vain.

Swallowing your tears and not giving any justification to anyone, a few days later you managed to free yourself from the organization. You knew they would keep an eye on you, but at least now you wouldn't be the target of Lucci's hatred.

A few months later you had already found a new home on your home island, a new spark of hope that everything would work out, even without him. That week you would be six months pregnant and you were already used to the affection and closeness of your neighbors and colleagues. What you weren't used to was strange noises in your house in the middle of the night.

Reluctantly - and against any recommendation from your doctor, you assumed the form that your devil fruit allowed. A completely black cat. You still remembered Kalifa's laugh when you two and Kaku acquired your fruits and she claimed it was curious that you also turned into a feline.

The image of the man you no longer imagined seeing in front of you was there, standing in your kitchen. You wanted to return to your human form and ask what it was about, you wanted to at least feel him again, but the hatred inside you spoke louder. Shooing away the pigeon that accompanied him, you jumped at Lucci, climbing up his suit with your fingernails.

"Stop this." Lucci tried to hold you back, but you kept throwing small kicks at him. Damn the time you trimmed your claws, the damage wouldn't be so great "Stop!"

Fatigue soon hit you and you returned to your human form, even so you continued attacking him, this time with weak slaps.

"You practically called me a bitch." you snapped, having your hands trapped by his. "You humiliated me and now you have the nerve to show up here."

"You need to calm down." you lunged at him, even though your hands were practically tied by his hands. "You're going to hurt yourself, sweetheart, please."

The calm tone of his words hit you before your brain even processed his arms trapping you in a tight hug. It took a few seconds before you actually gave up trying to free yourself.

"Calm down, please." he asked once again, pressing you against his body.

"You left me." hurt replaced the hatred in your voice, this time you were able to let go of him, now calmer.

Noticing that your clothes were gone with your transformation, you turned your back and went to your room, reaching for panties and a robe. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you closed your eyes, trying to regain the lost air and dealing with the weakness that took over your body.

"There are big differences between the anatomy of a cat and a human, even more so when they carry their kittens." Lucci leaned on the doorstep and realized that you still hadn't turned your attention to him. He soon bent down in front of you, taking one of your hands. "How can I help you?"

"You sent me away." the hurt was almost palpable in your voice. "My life was good here, I got a job even though I was pregnant, I started making friends. Why are you here after so long?"

"I couldn't stop thinking about you two." Lucci gave up and sat next to you. "That day I had to lie." he confessed and your attention quickly turned to Lucci. "I saw Yuro following us, him slightly pushing the door to hear us. He was interested in my position just like he was always interested in you. What do you think he would do when he connected the information?" The question remained in the air for some time, long enough for you to feel your heart soften a little. "That's why I asked you to leave, I didn't know how well the little act had worked."

"And how did you find me here?"

"I never lost sight of you." the answer was almost obvious to you, yet it was good to hear. "Besides, even if I wanted to, that annoying giraffe wouldn't leave me alone after I told him about the child." a light laugh dared to cross your lips. "I'm sorry for this."

"I know you meant well, Lucci, but it still hurts anyway." you made to touch his arm, but you flinched. "It doesn't mean that I don't miss you, that I don't want to see you."

"I figured that. As long as you accept me here, accept me in this child's life, I want to stay." he, contrary to what you had done, allowed his hand to touch your skin, turning your face towards him. "And what you want?"

"Can we just cuddle for a bit, please?"

Lucci opted to just pull you into his arms and drag you to the bed, laying down comfortably and allowing you to snuggle into him. Feeling a little wary of how you would react, his hand lightly touched the spot on the back of your neck that you loved being stroked. Surely your cat form would be purring. For a long time, it was the kind of physical contact you had.

The residents of the small village were initially surprised by the man's presence. He didn't stay for long and when he stayed on the island, he only left the house a few times and had a serious expression on his face, not allowing anyone to feel free to talk. And when it was extremely necessary, he preferred to use Hattori for that role.

The little child arrived into the world on a rainy night. Leo was an almost identical copy of his father, except for his eyes that were the same as yours. Lucci only returned to the island two days later and few things could surprise him more than finding you sitting on the bed with several blankets around your body, while you breastfed the little baby.

"Hey." you limited yourself to saying, not wanting to speak more or louder so as not to take away the child's peace.

"Are you cold?"

"I just need to keep the nest… the bed warm, make our little Leo comfortable." You looked at the little one, who was still focused on eating. "Want to see him?" You nodded to the space next to you on the bed.

Lucci got closer and could notice every feature of the baby it was like looking at a small version of him. Until the small eyes found the man's direction and he understood that everything bad that could exist in him, in Lucci, would be compensated by everything good he had in you. A strange feeling took over him, something like possession, like pride, something that if he needed to put into words he wouldn't be able to.

His hands first lowered the cover from your back and then lowered the strap of your shirt. Before you could complain, Lucci started distributing kisses and rubbing his face against your skin, in a strange affection that you gladly accepted. In anyone's eyes, it would be like seeing two cats taking care of their pup.

Lucci was right in his little mental gamble. Leo was a physical copy of him, but he had your personality. Cunning, agile, but kind, a soft heart that accepted anything. Well, almost anything.

"Daddy!" the boy shouted as soon as he saw Lucci enter the small yard after almost two months away. The man just bent down and allowed him to jump into his arms. When Leo was just a few centimeters away, Lucci watched the boy scream in horror and walk away. "Hattori!"

The pigeon landed on Lucci's shoulder and that was enough to explain the story. Ever since baby Leo woke up with the pigeon watching him, the now three-year-old boy was terrified of any bird and poor Hattori was included - and was the main reason.

"Son, I already told you. Hattori is good." you caught up to them, sitting on the floor so you were at Leo's level.

"No, it is not." he grumbled, hiding in the back of your neck. "Get him out of here."

"You need to get used to it." Lucci would once again try and knew he might fail. "Look at me."

"I don't want."

"Leo…" the warning tone caught the boy's attention, who just gave him space to see, not letting go of you. "Look, Hattori is a good friend."

Lucci let the pigeon land on his fingertips. Fulfilling the small unspoken agreement between the two, Hattori remained quiet, accepting Lucci to stroke his head.

"See? Your mom likes him too." Lucci passed the pigeon to your finger and more docilely you caught it.

"Come here." Lucci picked up the boy and whispered something in his ear, probably some promise to the boy. Leo, with his small trembling hand, stretched out his finger and let Hattori land. "See? He can be a great friend."

"He can?"

"Coo, yes sir Leo." As soon as the dove spoke, Leo screamed in fear again, letting the bird fly and throwing himself at you.

"Maybe that was too soon." Lucci commented, helping you stand with the boy on your lap.

That time, Lucci spent about a month with you and you were already suffering from the night he was leaving. Partly because of your longing, even if you hadn't gotten back into the relationship, you couldn't deny how you felt about him. In addition to suffering for little Leo. He admired his father, even though he didn't know what he actually did and even though he maintained a more serious behavior, you knew that Lucci adored the boy.

"Dad…" you watched Lucci put Leo to sleep, with the boy practically with his eyes closed. "You will return?"

"I promise you I will."

"What if I cry just this little bit." he pointed at the small space with his fingers. "Will you still love me?"

The question seemed to take him by surprise. You noticed that Lucci didn't respond immediately and you wondered how many memories were going through his head, of all the death, chaos and hatred that he had carried since childhood. You knew that it was difficult for Lucci to express - and even nurture feelings that were reserved for few people, the bond with you and Leo was unique.

"Absolutely," a rare light chuckle escaped him. "You're my best friend, remember?" Lucci finished covering the boy. "Now sleep."

You blew your little boy a kiss from a distance and closed the door to his room. Like something magnetic you followed Lucci to the small room of the house you two sort of shared.

"Need to talk to you."

"I'm listening." you crossed your arms, bracing yourself for something bad, something like "That was the last time I showed up."

"I'm leaving Cipher Pol." he took a small letter from his pocket. That seal was familiar and the last time you saw it was when you gave up.

"Explain this to me properly"

"Even on a mission in Water 7, being a shipwright wasn't that bad." as he spoke, you felt even more lost. "I've always had my goals. Little Leo wasn't one of them, but I can't ignore him."

"You know you don't have to do that. Our little arrangement has been working." you tried to argue, but Lucci was irreducible, as always.

"I don't really need it. I want it." he spoke firmly. "I'm just going to carry out this mission more."

"Something important?"

"I need to go to Egghead, deal with Vegapunk." he limited himself to speaking, not wanting to go into too many details. Despite asking, your mind was still stuck on the idea of ​​having Lucci always there.

"Promise to come back." the words came out like an order. "Promise now Lucci, please."

Lucci just hung his face, trying to understand where that plea had come from. You always warned him to make promises to Leo, after all, life as an agent and director of CP0 wasn't the safest. Those words didn't usually come out of your mouth.

Ignoring the mix of sensations that accumulated in your chest, you practically threw yourself towards Lucci, taking his lips for yourself. His lack of reaction only lasted a few seconds and you only had to press your body against his for his hands to find your legs and lock them around his waist.

"I promise." he said amidst sighs and footsteps towards your room. "As long as you promise to come back to me, to be mine again."

"I promise."

Crocodile

warnings: angst, but with a happy ending. Crocodile and F!Reader are married, there are mentions of blood but nothing much. Mentions of Cross Guild because I absolutely love the existence of this trio.

Long years, long disputes and problems ago, Crocodile found you lost in Alabasta. Fleeing from a crew that chose to only use you, you found yourself without any direction and when demonstrating your skills to escape some thieves, he saw something interesting in you.

This interest lasted through the years, even into the fall of his reign in Alabasta, even into the time he was trapped in Impel Down, he knew that once he found you again, he wouldn't let something so good slip through his hands like sand in the wind.

That's how the small ring with green details found your hand, which you passed from Miss Honeymoon to his wife. Very little time had passed before you had to face the countless positive tests that piled up in front of you.

You tried to go back to bed in silence, the goal was not to wake Crocodile and over time, find the courage to bring the news to him. However, you failed miserably. As soon as the bathroom door opened, you found Crocodile waiting for you.

"You've been out of bed for a while. Is everything okay?" he asked, leaning against the wall next to the door.

"Y-Yes." Your voice betrayed you, giving away that at least something had happened in there and you knew Crocodile enough to know that he would turn everything over and discover your little secret. "Can we talk?"

"It's a little early for that, isn't it, my little one?" The serious expression on your face told him that the matter couldn't wait. Without asking, he took your hand and guided you back to the bed, placing you in a sitting position. "What happened?"

"I h-guess. I mean." you took a deep breath, the huge room seemed to compress next to you. "I'm pregnant."

Silence prevailed for a few seconds - it seemed like ages between the two of you. You looked for any reaction, for anything, but Crocodile was far away. It was just a physical form in front of you.

"Rest, there's still a long way to go before dawn." he just said, turning his back and heading towards the bathroom.

It didn't take long for you to see him leave, hair wet, steam everywhere, no more words left his lips and the first rays of sun appeared on the horizon when he disappeared from your field of vision. Almost two weeks passed like this, only essential words were exchanged between the two of you, Crocodile spent most of his hours away from home or locked in his office. According to Daz, the boss had problems to solve.

That was it, this would end the relationship that you two had worked so hard to achieve. Without saying anything, you packed your bags, even so you couldn't leave without at least looking at his face. Opening the office door without any kind of ceremony, the first thing that caught your attention was the blood that was staining him, only then did you notice the cut that he was finishing stitching.

"Crocodile!" You got closer, trying to touch the wound, but he pushed your hand away. "Are you okay?"

"It was just a superficial cut." he simply responded, finishing the last stitch and using gauze to cover the wound.

Despite your concern, you would not let your recent decision shake you. Crocodile watched with surprised eyes as you took off the ring you were wearing and with shaking hands left it on the table.

"What is this about?"

"Given the distance, the way you've been treating me, I don't think you were happy with the existence of a baby." You started, trying to make your voice steady. "But I am and it's okay that you don't want to have a child, but I do. I just don't want to have to deal with this indifference, this distance. You don't talk to me, you don't sleep in our bed…"

"Calm down darling, please." he asked, his unshaken tone quite contrary to the worried expression on his features.

He took your hand and gently made you circle the table, standing next to him. Crocodile then took three brown folders from a drawer, each of which had a name and a photo of a guy.

"Do you remember them?" you still remembered the faces, before settling on the new island, the two of you evaluated how the entire system worked.

"The three main leaders here on this island. This one is responsible for the bandits." You pointed to the first photo and then to the second. "This one was a pirate too, as I remember."

"And this one works in the slave trade." Crocodile took a pen and crossed out his photo, just as the first man's photo was also crossed out.

"And what does this have to do with what I told you just now?" you tried to move away from the table, but the hand on your waist stopped you.

"As we once talked about, I planned to calmly find a place for my business, maybe some partnerships…" he put the folders aside, turning his attention completely to you. "Now with this. With our baby on the way. I can't allow there to be threats of this level around."

"What do you mean by that, my dear?" the endearing word involuntarily escaped your lips, a clear sign that you couldn't help but have love for Crocodile, even with the hurt.

"I needed to speed up my business, exclude some of these faces." He held your face and pressed his forehead to yours. "I can only be happy with this news when I know you two are safe."

"Crocodile…"

"I'm going to be the happiest man on this island when I can walk around showing off my beautiful, shiny, pregnant wife, carrying my little one. I don't want our children to have to see the terror we've both experienced throughout this life."

"I thought you didn't want me anymore." you let your hands wrap around him and his found a similar path around your body.

"I'm a man of my word and when I said I want you for the rest of my life, I really meant it." His lips traced their way across your face. "Please give me just a few more days and I will allow myself to be happy with this news."

It took another week before you woke up in the middle of the night, feeling something you hadn't felt in time. The icy contrast of his hook revealed that Crocodile had accidentally slept in that position. Head and one hand resting on your belly, in a protective mode. Apparently, the day had finally come for him to allow himself to be happy.

The months that followed were calmer, with the full-time man being your shadow, even on the tireless afternoons of shopping you did, Crocodile was there. At least he considered himself lucky and rewarded, since your raging hormones acted in a somewhat pleasant way for him - which made Daz find the two of you in a vulnerable way in the kitchen.

The best doctors from across the island gathered in the grand mansion when Ella was born. An identical copy for you, much to Crocodile's happiness. You knew that Crocodile would dedicate himself to being a father, even if it didn't work out, however, you couldn't be more wrong. On many nights, the girl was only able to stop crying when she found her father, or afternoons became calmer when, while the two of you talked and made plans, little Ella was distracted by the piles of sand that her father was. capable of producing. Apart from the fact that he had decided to give a baby Bananawani as soon as she turned her first birthday or when he made a replica of the hook he had for the little girl, everything was going well in the relationship between the three of you.

Despite being your copy in terms of features, her personality was much more similar to her father - and she was extremely close to him. With a cunning capable of convincing everyone, it didn't take long for Ella to be able to soften even Daz's heart. There wasn't a thing the girl asked for that Crocodile's faithful partner wouldn't go after. Cross Guild mates were also victims of Ella. In this case, just one of them. Mihawk thought it was funny for someone so small to have such an irreverent stance as Crocodile, despite almost getting him expelled from the Cross Guild when he was caught letting Ella play - or at least try - to manipulate Yoru. As for Buggy, Ella preferred to keep her distance. One of the few things the girl couldn't deal with easily was the existence of clowns.

The scream of horror that crossed the corridor invaded your ears, as well as those of the other two men who were next to you. Recognizing the voice, you and Crocodile jumped to your feet, quickly heading to where you thought the source was. Arriving in the kitchen, Crocodile barely had time to balance himself when he saw Ella hugging his legs, looking for some kind of help.

"A monster daddy, a big monster." Crocodile picked her up and felt the girl's heart racing even with all the fabrics separating him from her skin. "He's right there."

"It's okay, sweetie." your voice reached her ears, which were practically the only possible point of contact. Her eyes were sunk into her father's shoulder, her small hands almost pierced the fabric of his overcoat.

"I have my suspicions about what this monster is." Mihawk, who you hadn't noticed following the two of you, spoke up. "And I agree with you Ella, it's a pretty ugly monster." the cynicism was clear in his voice.

"Look at your father, my little one." Crocodile asked and found two orbs damp with tears. "Was it a monster with an ugly, red nose?"

"You lizard, you don't talk about my nose." Buggy practically rolled out of the pantry, eliciting another scream from the girl who went back into hiding. "She who appeared out of nowhere here."

"He's harmless, Ella." you tried to catch her, but the girl refused to let go of her own father.

"She's in her house, she has the freedom to do whatever she wants." Crocodile's threatening tone didn't go unnoticed. "You know what awaits you, don't you, clown?"

"Hey, I didn't do anything." he grumbled, approaching you already knowing that Crocodile would scalp him soon. "Look here, pretty girl, Uncle Buggy is your friend."

"Everything is fine." you interrupted the clown, who only scared your daughter more. You knew that the two of them probably just bumped into each other in the kitchen, but little Ella's fear spoke louder in these moments. "You are not going to do anything." you muttered to Crocodile and turned to the clown in question. "And can you stop this, you're only scaring little Ella more."

"Let's get out of here, my little baby." your husband grumbled, turning his back and going in front, you couldn't make out exactly what he was saying, but he seemed to be trying to reassure Ella, who was just sniffling now.

The sniffles were replaced by a small laugh, when you looked to the side the reason made you laugh too. Mihawk had turned the blunt side of the sword and hit Buggy a few times, who grunted back.

"We don't scare little girls here, we only scare bad mariners." Mihawk repeated the gesture and you knew he wasn't using any of the full strength he had. "Don't scare little Ella."

The hawk's eyes blinked at the girl, who continued laughing - much to the reassurance of Crocodile, who was already thinking of methods to torture his fellow Cross Guild member. No one scared his little girl.

[lethalchiralium]

Bigger Than The Whole Sky | Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!Reader

a/n: WE’LL GET BACK TO FLUFF SOON. is it a promise? yeah probably. sad stuff will be put on hold after this, we’re getting back to our regularly schedule good dad and husband after this chapter lol

warnings: MINORS DNI. Miscarriage, descriptions of medical treatment, medical inaccuracies, descriptions of medical abortions, depression, cussing, loss of a pregnancy. Simon knows how periods work because he is a good husband.

summary: It’s hard to get over something like this, it’s hard to feel like this. Loss is difficult.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

“You are going through a miscarriage.”

It was like the world had collapsed into the void, a ringing in his ears as he felt your hand squeeze his. He squeezed back, looking to you but you only looked at the doctor. She moved her medical mask up her nose a little before she continued. “Since you weren’t too far along, it’s possible to pass the fetus on your own. We also have a medication that would help it go faster. If neither work after a couple weeks, we will have to do...”

Simon tuned out then, watching your face underneath a medical mask. He knew you would be biting your lip to try to stop the tears, but it was pointless - the mask was wet with the tears you had been crying for hours. His heart kept squeezing, tugging, and tearing. He’s never felt this pain before, and he had no idea how to make it fucking stop. You nodded to the doctor, hand squeezing his, making him tune back into the conversation.

“Mr. Riley, do you have any questions?”

He turned to look at the emergency room doctor, her clipboard held by her hip. He glanced back to you before looking at the doctor again. “What do I need to do to help her?”

It was apparent that the doctor was not used to the question, eyebrows twitched before she spoke, “Make sure she doesn’t strain herself, she needs to stay hydrated and fed. This is a lot for a woman, especially since this was her second baby.”

Was.

What a silly word, what a joke, he thought. That ‘was’ could have been my child.

She cleared her throat. “As soon as she passes the fetus, she will need to take a pregnancy test three weeks later to confirm that she is no longer pregnant. If it says that she still is, come back immediately.” She looked to his wife. “It’s imperative that if you feel you are in more pain than before that you come in immediately. Life-saving treatment earlier on in a failed home abortion can and will save your life.”

Simon’s other hand clenched his leg, out of sight. He pressed the balls of his feet into the floor, trying to stop himself from standing and leaving. He so desperately wanted to run out of here, disappear into the alleyway and scream his lungs out.

You nodded to the doctor, she left with a quiet condolence before the air in the room grew silent.

He couldn’t let go. He wouldn’t dare be the man his father wanted him to be, a horrible husband and father - just like him. He forced himself to sit there, to take the pain and stop himself from running like he normally would have.

Like he did when he learned about Winnie.

He didn’t let himself think on it for much more than that, seeing you distraught and in pain right now was hurting him more than losing what would have been his son. He was sure he’d feel the loss later, but he’d rather have his wife alive than a baby he hasn’t even met. He held your hand with care, moving it to his lips and pressing a small kiss to the shaking skin.

He had carried you back out to his SUV when you had been discharged, lulling your head against his chest as the medicine was making you tired. You were wrapped up in the blanket you had left with, your blood still on it and you needed new clothes to wear when you got home.

He didn’t turn on the radio when he began to drive home. He sat with one hand on the steering wheel, the other settled in between your hands. You kept his hand close to your chest as you gazed out the window.

He’s never done this before, never imagined that he would have to - especially with you. The wonderful wife that loved every shitty part of him, the person who woke him from nightmares that plagued his wicked mind. The light in the darkness, holding his treasures in your arms. He’s fixed things for you before like your grandmother’s necklace you wore all the time, the squeaky floorboard in the kitchen and repairing the water heater - all without real annoyance, only playful grumbles and a smile that you loved to kiss. He’s held you when you’ve cried about missing home, missing your brothers, kissed your tears when the postpartum depression got to be too much. There was no way he knew what to do to even ease your emotional and mental pain, but he desperately wanted to. He’d claw his way through Hell to make this easier for you.

He let out a breath, glancing over to you before saying, “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t even budge, small breaths escaping your lips. He glanced to the road, seeing that he was fine for just a second, before he moved forward to look at your face. Your eyes were closed, head leaned to the side of the headrest and his hand trapped in your clutches.

He let out a huff through his nose, looking back at the road and squeezed the steering wheel. “I’m sorry.” The words stay in the air, directed to no one. He let out a quiet, humorless laugh as he said, “Fuckin’ Hell.”

The lights were on in the house when he carried you inside, he could hear the TV going but he had no desire to investigate. He closed the door behind him with a kick of his foot, hand on the back of your head as your face was settled in his neck. His other arm kept both of your legs on the side of one of his hips, you were still crying. You had woken up in the car earlier, you hadn’t even stopped crying in your sleep. It made his chest tear in half.

“Simon.”

He looked to his right, seeing Price standing in the front room, little Mellie asleep in his arms.

Simon felt tears claw at his eyes, he kept his gaze with his friend. “Can you take the kids for a couple of nights?”

Price immediately nodded. “Yeah.” He nodded towards Simon’s wife. “Is she okay?”

Simon didn’t even look down at you, he shook his head. “Not now.”

He walked up the stairs then, letting Price go back to wherever he came from to get his goddaughter. Simon was careful when he entered the bedroom, he moved towards the bathroom so he could wash you up. He noticed that the blood on the floor was now gone, a towel sat on the side of the bathtub. He quickly sat you down on the side of the bathtub, keeping a hand on you as he turned the water on.

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes flickered to yours, red and full of tears. His hand rested on your cheek.

“No need to be sorry.” He wiped tears away with his thumb. “We’ll get through this, okay?”

“It was a boy.” Was all you managed, tears streaming down your face. “Our boy.“

Both of his hands rested on your cheeks, making you look into his eyes. “I would rather have my wife than a son. I don’t care if Mellie is my last kid, because I would still have you. Don’t ever apologize for something you can’t control.”

Your face immediately went to his neck, arms around it as loud sobs erupted from your lips. He held you close to him, pressing his lips to your hair.

The hard part was helping you bathe, you sat catatonic in the warm water. The tears had stopped minutes ago, he was now draining the tub of the pink water, helping you into a towel. Gently wiping off the water from your body, moving to grab some of your clothes from the bedroom before returning. He was quick to grab a pad from underneath the cabinet, he wasn’t unfamiliar to them since you had to keep using them when he had gotten home months ago because of Mellie. He put it in your underwear then kneeled in front of you. He guided your hand to rest on his shoulder, helping you step into them. He pulled them up, then helped you into a pair of his old sweatpants - tying them at your waist. He stood, pulling one of his old band shirts over your head and tugging it on.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead before bending down and picking you up into his arms, letting you wrap your arms around his neck. He let you cry into his chest, laying down on your bed and letting you curl into his chest. His arms around you, caging you into him as he tried his best to hold back his own tears.

“We’ll be okay.” He spoke into the room, right beside your ear. “You’ll be okay.”

“I want my baby.” Those four words stabbed his chest, ripping open muscle and exposing his rib cage to the biting wind of emotional agony. His hand buried into your scalp, pressing your head to his chest.

He pressed his lips to your head. “I know.”

The hands that gripped his shirt let go, now resting your palms against his chest. “No. I want my daughter, I want Winnie.”

Your husband was only gone a few minutes before he brought back his sleepy daughter, settling her right next to you. Your arms immediately went around the five year old, pressing kisses to her little face. She didn’t even grovel about it, just basking in the love of her mom.

“Be good for Uncle Price.” Your voice was surprisingly steady, the girl opened her eyes and crinkled her nose.

“I wanna stay home.”

Your hand gently pet down her messy curls. “I know, but you know when we had to sit down on the sidewalk after you skinned your knee on your bike?”

The girl nodded.

“And that I told you that you take the time to feel better and not to be scared of your bike. I told you that you didn’t have to ride your bike again, because you were scared to. Because you were hurt.”

“Yeah,” The girl whispered, hands going to rest on your arm.

“And you got on your bike the next day, even though you were scared but you had that time to feel better, and you felt safe again. I’m gonna do that.” You placed a kiss on her forehead, pushing a lock of dirty blonde hair from her face. “I just need some time to feel better, that’s why you’re going with your uncles.”

“Is Daddy going with me?”

You shook your head. “No, baby. He’s taking care of me.”

Her nose crinkled again. “Is Melsie coming?”

You nodded. “Mellie’s going with you.”

Winnie chirped, a smile on her face. “Can I eat ice cream when I go?”

You chuckled, nodding. “Yes. Tell Uncle Price that Mama said so.”

“Love you, Mama.” Your daughter moved forwards, wrapping her arms around your neck. You kissed her again, whispering your love into her ear before Simon pulled Winnie up and away. His five year old looked at his face with eyes that matched his own, her little hands settled on his shoulders. Her little eyebrows were furrowed, the look of a question on her face.

“Go on.” He encouraged, knowing that she would probably pester Price so much that he’d go into retirement.

“I want a brother.” The little one declared, her brown eyebrows furrowed. She reminded him of you. “Mama said I’m gettin’ a brother.”

One hand went from holding her to brushing her hair down, a frown on his face. “Not yet, my little love. He’s not ready.”

Winnie hummed before moving her arms around her father’s neck, resting her head on his shoulder. He glanced down at you, seeing your eyes on him.

“Maybe we’re not ready too.” He spoke. If it was someone outside looking in, it would’ve seemed like he was saying it to Winnie - but he was saying it to you. His eyes didn’t leave yours for a moment more, he then walked towards the door and down the stairs, leaving you alone in the massive bed.

Ibuprofen would help now, but you had no energy to ask Simon. Your fingers gripped the sheets, you curled into yourself in the middle of the bed. You needed to tell Winnie why she was going away, that you weren’t abandoning her. The girl already felt abandoned by her father, you could see it through the way she waits at the front door for him. The way she always checks to see if his car is in the garage, the way she leaves a little bit of water in her cup in case he comes home and is thirsty, even though he’s on deployment. Your hand hovered over your stomach before pressing onto it, pain radiating through your lower back and legs.

You had to come to terms that it wasn’t time yet. It wasn’t time for a little boy with Simon’s spray of freckles, a little boy with a smile like yours. It wasn’t time for a baby again, you figured.

Then why did it still hurt? Why did it drive a red hot spear into your chest, cracking open your ribs? Why did claws rip apart your lungs so you couldn’t breathe?

A large hand settled on your side, large legs settling just behind yours. His arm snuck underneath your chest, pulling your back into his front. The tears started again, red hot against skin you felt was cold. Your arms clutched onto Simon’s, his lips pressed a chaste kiss to your hair.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know.” You whispered, still not sure if you believed him. “I know.”

“Baby…”

“Simon.” Your voice cracked, hands squeezing his large arm tighter. “Please. I can’t hear it anymore.”

You wouldn’t be able to see it, you couldn’t turn to face him, but his own tears fell down onto the pillowcase. Small tears, barely there in comparison to yours.

“I love you.” His words were steady, even if his heart felt like it was crashing and burning. You were ready for this one, he would’ve been after a while. He wanted what you wanted, and his heart twisted and contorted into painful positions when he knew it was being ripped away from you. “I love you.” He pressed another kiss to your skin, he then rested his forehead on your clothed shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

You let out a humorless chuckle. “I’m at fault here.”

“No, you’re not.”

“The baby was perfect at the appointment. I got sick and didn’t care for myself, so he-“

“Stop it.”

“It’s my fault, Simon.“

“These things happen, without rhyme or reason.” He pulled you just a little closer. “You’re a wonderful mother. If the baby’s not ready, it’s not ready. It’s simple. It will never be your fault.”

“But-“

“No. I’m not going to sit here and listen to you degrade yourself for something you can’t control. I can’t do it.”

“It hurts.”

He pulled the blanket farther up your bodies, up to your chin while he gently lifted his arm from your lower stomach. “That better?”

You pressed his arm into your stomach, curling your back into his chest again. You closed your eyes, trying to let go. Trying to let go of the chain you were holding in your open chest, trying to pull the weight at the end of it back up. Your hands kept slipping, the chain falling further and further into your chamber of despair. It wasn’t long before you had fallen asleep, dreamless and in pain.

Simon didn’t sleep.

He held you close to him, keeping your hair from your face. He memorized how your nose curved, the way your jaw defined your face, and how peaceful you were when you were asleep.

He felt his own pain, losing a child was not an easy feat. Simon felt acid-like tears in his soul, but Ghost had pressed his hand into them to make them hurt.

Simon would never have a son. He was grateful that he would never be like his father, beating his boys until he got bored. He was grateful that his girls were strong, loved; that their mother would never be hurt by his hand. He was grateful he would never have to fake his love for his girls.

Simon Riley was grateful he wasn’t going to have a son, so he didn’t have to stare a carbon copy of himself in the face and pretend that he loved him.

hi, i wrote this entire thing like weeks ago and the last paragraph almost made me vomit cause i was so upset

also, we’re getting a flashback for them because fluff and because i want to. i want to show how happy they were >:(

taglist: @sigynxlokiwifelover @lumpypoll @multitargaryen

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[apocalypse-shuffle]

RED HOOD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)

—

“Long Overdue” (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.

| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, crying?

| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source - Batman: Three Jokers comic)

| 2k+ words

| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven.

Ma. God, no one called you that anymore. The way your eyes begin to prickle is a clear indication.

With you Dick wasn’t the type. Once he’d worked himself up to it he’d called you mom; slightly different from the few ways he referred to his bio mother, but something shared between the two of you all the same.

And Tim? Well he wasn’t your child plain and simple. Tim still had his parents for one, and for two he was intrinsically Bruce’s. By the time he’d figured his way into the Batcave you’d been gone, most of your shit moved out of the manor, and desperately waving divorce papers Bruce refused to acknowledge in the air. You didn’t have anything to do with his indoctrination outside of exactly one instance of him finding you to ask if you’d reconsider the separation. Some Batman needed a Robin and Bruce Wayne needed his wife type shit.

Either way Tim didn’t call you any rendition of mom because you weren’t his. The most you got was him addressing you by your maiden name and then eventually your first and you were content with that.

Then if he didn’t call you mom, the girls sure as hell didn’t either. Outside of Barbara the others never even became regular conversation partners. Cass was a rare sighting in your life and Stephanie and you’s relationship would never progress past the casual advocacy you tried giving her because she was another dead Robin to add to what’s now technically a list.

At the end of the day, out of all the people who considered you a mother, only Jason added that ‘a’ and you wanted to grip that name tight and hold it to you. Break your ribs open and force it into your chest cavity. The need to fulfill that ache cuts deep and you take a step forward.

Jason startles though, undoing all his own forward progress, and you falter. That’s right. Jason didn’t like for people to touch him. Definitely didn’t like hugs either. Not surprise ones at least. Before his death you’d gotten close enough he didn’t mind when you swooped in, but now?

“Can I-? Can I hug you?” You press trembling lips together for another horrible swallow. “Please…?”

Jason jerks, two hastily aborted movements at once, before his obstructed voice meets your ears.

“Fine.”

You practically fall on him before pulling him into you. Unfortunately he’s just as stiff as his voice and you have to take a second to figure out how to slot against him.

Jason fits in your arms differently than he used to - broader and taller by a mile - but after a few beats he relaxes into them just the same. The subtle addition of weight makes a sob bubble up your throat.

You rap your knuckles on the side of the helmet.

“Take this shit off.”

He hesitates and a sharp pang manages to worm its way into the already shitty cocktail of emotions you’re feeling. It hits your spine like lightning, forces you up and has you an arms length away in half an inhale.

Maybe before now you’d been going through too much all at once for the trepidation to hit, but it was hitting now. You’d never seen Hood without- well without the Hood. Only Jumbie raised from the dead the way Jason did, and while you’d take your son anyway you could get him you wouldn’t accept some Thing parading around in his skin.

Reading your burst of movement for what it is, Jason backtracks, rising arms dropping to his sides. “Maybe I shouldn’t…”

“Jason Peter-” you inhale deeply, catching yourself, and hold a hand up to stop him. You both ignore the obvious way it trembles. “-only… if…if you want to. I’m not trying to force anything.”

He’s slow to nod, weight shifting from his left to his right leg and back again before he says something too low for you to hear. You’re about to ask him to repeat when he speaks up, this time aiming his voice somewhere around your shoulder while bowing his head.

“No, I- Alright. Just hold on.”

Haunches suitably raised and heart in your throat you pay close attention as the helmet comes up, Jason having released some catch in the back.

It goes over, the helmet clatters to the ground, and the man who stares back at you is…hard to place.

The low fluorescent lighting of the narrow room combined with the concrete walls casts soft enough shadows over his face that while his features are warped they’re not discernible. Which means you can’t completely rule out the uncanniness wafting off of him as just your brain (along with your entire perception of the universe) splinting in half.

It makes your face heat up. He looks familiar, but you can’t say you wouldn’t have passed him straight if you’d seen him on the street. He’s too big for one, even for how you’d all imagined he’d look grown up, standing more than a foot taller than the last day you saw him. Taller than malnourishment would’ve ever let him be.

The sob you let out makes you both flinch.

One hand snaps to your mouth, the other waving him off.

“I’m sorry I- I don’t-. This is just-”

Even with the way he’s leaning away from you he shakes his head. “I get it, it's fine.”

His voice is faint, cut up and hoarse like he hasn’t used it in a while, and it’s the prettiest thing you’ve heard in ages.

“Oh,” you laugh. The wet kind that makes your throat sticky. You can only stare at him, blurry form and all, words lost to you.

Eventually, after watching your fervent effort to wipe away tears that are in no way inclined to give you a break, arms crossed Jason takes a half step forward with a shrug.

“We can…try again?”

The next little laugh you let out you practically choke on but you nod all the same.

When Jason’s the first to move your heart starts speeding away like an overexcited middle school drumline. You roll with it though, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes so they’re dry enough for you to actually see him clearly for a few seconds.

When he’s directly in front of you your hands come up slowly, giving him plenty of opportunity to move away. Or maybe to vanish.

When he does neither, only giving you a guarded look, you allow yourself to touch.

Problem is, the domino mask he’s wearing very quickly gets in your way and on your nerves when you move to frame his face. Quickly feels like if it’s not gone, if you can’t see his eyes, you’ll throw up.

To stop yourself from taking the risk and ripping it off you have to take a deep breath. Have to force down the thick build up of saliva gathering in your mouth so it pushes back the bile climbing up your throat.

“I’d like to see my son, Jason. All of you.”

To emphasize your point you tap the tip of your nail against the mask. There’s no intention on your part to cross his boundary but Jason’s hands snap up to hold onto your wrists all the same.

You look into the white lenses of his domino, fingers buzzing along the corner of the mask closest to them. His mouth twists into a frown.

“Please?”

You beg with the same ferocity a grieving mother once used when begging for her child back.

“You’re asking for a lot.”

He lets go and he takes a couple steps back and you don’t cry.

No, instead you swing your hands behind you. Clasping them together in a poor attempt to stop the buzzing sensation that travels from the tips of your fingers to take over your entire hand.

“Mmm,” you incline your head. “Well. I did help a boy get over first date jitters with a made up song once. Let that same boy talk me through an entire dissertations’ worth of his analysis of Their Eyes Were Watching God - as choppy as it was - because TWMS wouldn’t allow him to present it in class. Let him skip going to that same school and cry to me for hours after the death of Gloria Stanson. Remember a knife hidden in the corner on the highest shelf in his closet, and I remember not revealing any of that when I gave his eulogy because he once asked me to keep the important things between the two of us. So you don’t have to show me, but I think I make a pretty good qualifier when it comes to keeping this safe.”

You point straight to where his heart is tucked safely behind layers of gray armor before shrugging.

From the way his brows furrow over the domino you know he’s at least thinking about it so you step away to pick up your disregarded mask and stuff it in your waistband.

One blink. Six.

“You remember Rena?”

In front of him again, you rock back on your heels. “Mhm. And the ‘how to tie a tie’ lessons me and Bruce walked you through even though you didn’t wear a suit to that date. Remember that too.”

Jason’s smile is crooked on his face but it’s nonetheless present as he makes a noise of agreement.

“I’d just wanted to spend time with you two, I was never planning on wearing a suit to go to the skating rink.”

“We figured.”

You’re rolling onto the balls of your feet when that small smile drops and he shakes his head.

“I’m not that same boy anymore.”

You take in the way he could raise his hand and so easily touch the ceiling without having to jump. You clear the phlegm from your throat.

“I can tell.”

Jason grunts and makes a general gesture indicating something somewhere behind you.

“And I got no interest in trying to live up to whatever fucked up embalment Bruce’s got going on with my burnt suit in that case.”

That suit. Bruce’s memorial. His warning. Your breath hitches as you think of the smell of crisped blood and methanol. If Jason didn’t want to talk about it you sure as shit weren’t going to.

“I will one hundred percent take that into account.” You keep it simple, rocking on your heels again. He wasn’t asking for anything unreasonable so there wasn’t really any debate to be had. “You wanna be treated as you are? I can do that.”

Moments pass once you’ve said your peace where Jason does nothing but stare at you. The only indication he’s at all alive being his shoulders still moving - and you are watching. Eyeing that tell tale up and down like your own life will end at its falter. The pattern is slow enough to come off as pacivity but the time between each rise and fall is too measured to be uncontrolled. Exactly three point eleven seconds one way and three point eleven seconds the other. Every time.

Then he sighs, curses, and the little veil of dissolvent for the adhesive that adheres the mask to his face is in his hand. A different vial and color than when he was Robin; you don’t know why you thought it’d be the same. Or why it makes your heart clench that it’s not.

Between one thrum of the fluorescent lights and the next Jason is peeling away the domino, and you would be lying if you claimed to know where it disappeared to after that. Too caught up on what he’d been hiding to track it.

Blue. Nothing more and nothing less. Just blessedly familiar, vibrant blue. Not the dull gray they’d become by the time you were given the chance to put a gruesome sight of a child six feet under.

The “Oh wow,” tumbles from you without permission and then there’s zero hope for the waterworks you’d been holding back. The levee fails and you’re bawling before you know it. Barely holding back snot and who knows what else since you already feel like screaming.

At that point there’s no carefully thought out sentence for you to spew, no more hesitancy, no more measured breathing, and linear thought. Just the crushing need to have him close to you again.

You’re rushing forward before you know.

Wrapping your arms around Jason the next go around is both the best and the worst thing. You accommodate his new size faster, already writing over the ways he used to fit against you with the ways he does so now, but he’s still so stiff and he’s not reciprocating the hug either.

Maybe you should let go. You crossed the boundary too fast. Were too reckless. You literally have training on this and now you’re crowding him.

Okay, you’re pulling away. It’s a herculean effort but you’re forcing your arms from around his middle. You’ve got to, you don’t want to scare him off. Not when you just got him back.

There’s a soft “Not yet,” mumbled into your shoulder and then arms finally come around yours and you don’t hesitate to snap your own back into place.

He’s hugging you back.

You cry a little harder and bring one of your arms up to drape across his shoulders, pulling him closer. When you start rocking and Jason copies your momentum you press a kiss onto his temple.

“Hi,” you stutter out. Another sob. “Hi baby.”

Since he’s finally letting his arms wrap around you you don’t hesitate to run dark fingers through the truly unruly mass of black curls on his head. His hairs’ damp - most likely from sweat - but cool. Probably being tempered by the cold air blowing into the room.

It’s when you press a kiss to his forehead that you feel something else wet and your breath stutters.

“It’s okay. I got you, everything’s okay,” you whisper.

“God Ma-” his voice cracks and then you can hear the sobs he’s trying to muffle into your suit. “No it’s not.”

“I know,” you sob. “I’m sorry- so so fucking sorry.”

You sniffle and pull away to see him better. Jason’s face is flushed, his eyes wet, and cheeks streaked with tears shed. You hold your hands up to frame his face for a second time and run your thumbs through the tear tracks. His chest heaves as his body tries to regulate his breathing.

Jason clears his throat, gaze boring into yours. “Hi,” he says.

You smile, finally beginning to map out his face. First you move to frame his cheeks, too feel the warmth in them. To see if they still feel familiar. They don’t; you force yourself to accept that fact without letting it show in your expression, letting out a measured exhale before continuing. You find his jaw is more defined now too, cheeks devoid of the baby fat of five years prior.

From then on brushing your thumbs along his brows, over the bridge of his nose, traveling over his ears and skirting around his hairline - it all fills your mind with incoherent cheers.

Your thumbs hover over Jason’s eyes and you hum when he closes them for you.

The skin underneath your shaved off pads is soft. The thin layer of protection allows you to feel how his eyeballs shift, to see the way his veins show stark under light skin, to clock the life thrumming through him.

It makes your heart feel so goddamn light. You can’t stop smiling at the sight of him. Eyes still wet but clear.

“I feel like such a horrible mother,” you hiccup, hands slide down so you can once again cup his face. “I barely recognize you.”

Jason’s breathing shakes nearly in tandem with yours and his eyes squeeze tighter shut, head turning away.

“Don’t.” He takes a second to look up. Look right through you. Lashes wet and glassy eyes open, voice grating over his next words. “Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault. I don’t blame any of you for that, but especially not you.”

What you want to do is argue. You should’ve never let him put on that suit in the first place, one fucked up son should’ve been the end of it. You should’ve dropped the case you were working the second you’d heard he’d run away and you should’ve found him. Instead you keep your thoughts personal, pinning them to your brain as if it’s a cushion so that you’ll never forget, and pull your son closer. An action which he allows, resting his head on your shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you whisper into his hair. The way he instantly shakes his head makes the cool strands tickle your jawline.

“You can’t mean that.”

“If I didn’t mean it I wouldn’t have said it, Jay.”

Jason tenses before responding, words spewing without warning.

“Yeah except I’ve killed people, and I don’t regret it, and Bruce hates that - and you probably do too - but his way isn’t good enough. The people in this city deserve better so I’m doing what’s necessary-”

And that has you bristling. He must notice too because he stops short and edges away, face steeping. Caught somewhere between wanting to leave and wanting to fully kick start an argument.

…TBC

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed! I had to split this bitch in two cause it was 5,000+ words and I’m not in the business of under-indulging myself.

Listen, I’ve looked into it. Every mother/mother figure Jason’s ever had he’s referred to as “Mom”, but me personally, I didn’t grow up addressing my own mother that way so I wanted to play around with “Ma” (differentiate a little). What's funny though, is that I’ve read Dick referring to his mother as both “Ma” and “Mom” so that’s fun.

• TWMS = Thomas Wayne Middle School

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

Tagged: @aarinisreading, @niphredil-14, @mxtokko, @calsjack, @brunnetteiwik

[greenqueenhightower]

I agree so much with your analysis of the of the moon tea scene but it also hit me that in this episode we see the Blackwood Lord bring up that he tried to win Rhaenyra’s hand. It’s a reminder that Rhaenyra had the choice and the privilege to choose her spouse, of course she lost that privilege but she did get to choose her children’s fathers. Alicent didn’t and her husband didn’t love hers.

Not that I think Alicent wants to be a mother again at this point in her life. She is a grandmother now (and Jaehaera has become her responsibility as well) and she is practically still raising her adult children and desperately wants her sons them to become self sufficient and less in need of guidance. But I think the pregnancy has again reminded her of a life she was never allowed to have because her life was already chosen for her by her father and Viserys at 14.

She doesn’t really want the child that would come from it but this is first child that wasn’t forced on her. She was a willing participant this time and this child was made out of big, emotions that are new to Alicent like love, lust, freedom, recklessness, indulgence and selfishness. In an another life that she was as never allowed, the child would’ve been born to a man who would be a great father- he has been a better father to her children than their own father.

Ultimately though, she is finally in control of her womb and drinks the tea. Which like choosing a partner this time and consenting to sex, enjoying it, being in control- this is another freedom she never had before. However, I think there is also a side of it that is still duty and sacrifice too though. Alicent is always going to do what she has to do with a stiff upper lip. She’s not Rhaenyra and knows how it would be detrimental to Aegon’s reign and Aegon’s cause for war. It would be the ultimate hypocrisy and an embarrassment to herself and her family. So she does her duty and she makes the only sound choice to be made.

I’m reminded of the line she’s going to say this season about how she always did what was expected of her and how she tried to live by the Seven’s examples and it all still amounts to nothing.

It’s not lost on me that in this episode she aborts the last child to ever take root in her womb. Then she uses the first child to ever grow in her womb as a conduit for all of her anger and negative emotions. She tells him that he has no idea of all the sacrifices she made in her life for him but like herself, he never chose any of this. Otto chose her life and in turn she chose Aegon’s.

So she blows up on Aegon, then he impulsively goes off to war on a dragon to prove himself worthy to her and worthy of his name and title. He’s then gravely injured by the hands of her other son and is on the brink of death. So it’s like once again the life of duty, sacrifice and rationality amounts to nothing. She did not successfully put her son on the iron throne and even after sacrificing so much of herself to protect him, he might still die.

Hi anon 💚

That is an interesting observation! Alicent never had any authority over her body, and she claimed this authority by choosing to sleep with Criston and also consciously choosing to abort his child. Perhaps she thought that had the circumstances been different, she might have wanted to have this child which wasn't conceived as a result of rape. Alicent understands that aborting the child proves to be yet another duty to herself and another sacrifice for the rest of her children.

It is interesting that Alicent can finally be in control of her own narrative, but at the same time, she is still confined within her roles and expectations. Her choice to drink the moon tea is self-liberating from one hand but restrictive from the other, because she knows she has no other option. She has tried hard to grasp and taste freedom, and yet she is still not entirely free. Because even if she wanted to keep the child, that would be denied. So again, she tries hard to gain some agency and control over her body but, ultimately, this is limited to what social conventions and expectations demand of her.

This is why I liked the framing in the last shot of the moon tea scene as the camera zooms out and shows Alicent already suffering her abortion pains, defined by the pillars and the furniture in her room that becomes her prison. No matter how hard she tries to escape, no matter what she does, she is still bound. It is so tragic to think about.

Your points about how she uses Aegon as a conduit for all her anger for what she had to go through minutes before but also what she went through her whole life make total sense. Aegon has become the representation of all her troubles and the manifestation of her trauma. She lashes out at him because she could never lash out at Otto or Viserys, and in her mind, Aegon becomes synonymous with the person "who started it all."

So Aegon takes the blame for being the reason she is still there, in the castle, confined by others' expectations, forced to dote on duty and sacrifice, forced to give birth to more children. He takes the blame for all of his father's and grandfather's sins, and in his face, she sees her pain but also her strength, perseverance, and self-claimed power, since he is the reason she has become the person she is. She would never change him for the world, because that would deny and negate all she ever lived for. The possibility that he might die and with him, part of her own sense of self-worth, must be harrowing for Alicent.

I can't wait to see more of them next episode. The dynamic they have is one of the best, if not the best, in the entire show.

[namazunomegami]

emperor!sukuna x imperial concubine!reader

a/n: part 2 of my self-indulging mess. I had a lot of fun writing him and his drabble got finished way before I developed the whole plotline for Geto lol. I'll try to complete Gojo today or tomorrow and Toji is in the works yaaay!!

Also, I'm so surprised my Geto drabble got so many notes in such a short time!! I wouldn't expected people to be remotely interested in my writing but now I'm getting confident.

And finally, I can guarantee that this reader is gender neutral.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated <33

wc: 674, I know, I know, Geto got the princess treatment from me but sometimes less is more <333

cw: historical AU, scheming, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sudden infant death syndrome, betrayal, accusations of abortion, execution, nudity, mentions of poisoning, suggestive

credits: i used a colored manga panel instead of a fanart but I have no idea who did the coloring so feel free to help me credit their work. And again, my precious @notveryrussian did the proofread, luv ya mwah <33

MDNI PLEASE! I'm gonna find you and kick you in the butt if you do. If you’re not comfortable with dark content or anything mentioned in the warnings just scroll, there's nothing wrong with that.

His mandate of heaven is very different from Gojo and Geto. Sukuna is a ruthless tyrant, he enjoys crushing any nation he deems either threatening or undeserving to even exist next to his borders. His palace is a snake pit, full of betrayal and backstabbing. Executions are frequent and he needs no valid reason to sentence someone to death, he enjoys the bloodshed and the sight of lifeless bodies. You can’t survive that place acting kind and humble. Sukuna specifically torments his concubines physically and mentally for the sheer enjoyment of it.

His court is probably the most competitive. You need to be as ruthless as he is, you need to become a schemer. One of his high-ranking consorts takes you under her wing. She lets you spend leisure time with her, and somehow, she ends up telling you way more sensitive information than she should. She once managed to give him a child, but the infant sadly died days after they were born. She complained about how hard that pregnancy was and that she’s afraid of going through it again, even though she’s attached to him. And not long after this conversation, she fell ill. Retching out everything she ate, her stomach burned and ached. She was so weak her cycle was two weeks late. She trusted you enough to have you fetch her a specific herbal tea to ease her pain and grant her some dreamless sleep.

And that’s the moment you decide you’ll use everything you know about her to cast her down and take her place.

You accuse her that she’s pregnant but wants to abort her baby. Your story is so intricately constructed from all the details you knew that his officials are on your side without hesitation. She watches you horrified, desperately telling him that nothing could be so far from the truth. Sukuna decides to believe in your words and orders for the consort to be executed. Finding pure joy in how she wails and begs for forgiveness. At the execution, he studies your face, every little detail and reaction and you were aware of that. It’s time to impress him. Your face is still, you don’t even flinch when her head is severed by the neck. The eunuchs come for you at night.

He loves and loathes this tradition at the same time. The servants want to protect him, so they deliver you stark naked to ensure you won’t carry any weapons. Fools, as if a weak and trembling creature like you could ever hurt him with a mere dagger or a sharpened hairpin. Yet it makes you look like an offering. A sacrificial lamb. Maybe because you are.

Some primal instinct tells you to balance your inner strength and innate fear of him. Pull back your shoulders, straighten your back, don’t even think to conceal your private parts. Let your fingers quiver and the sheer dread in your eyes seep through. He mocks you. Almost laughs at you while sitting comfortably on the intricately carved shelf bed, wearing a loose bright yellow robe, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. There’s no reason for him to not do this though, he’s a god, the son of heaven, therefore, everything about him is perfect.

The first thing he asks you is if you’re satisfied with your pathetic attempt to improve your position. You don’t dare to tell him that you feel the guilt rotting your insides. He confesses that he was poisoning her meals, he wanted to watch her wither away slowly and enjoy her suffering, but you ruined his plans. He might spare you, you’re a stupid little thing, you couldn’t have known. He warns you that you need to do so much more if you want to be on his good side. You need to be absolutely despicable to earn his praise. Though you feel content having reached your goal and getting to spend a night with him, somewhere deep down you hope you can leave his chamber in one piece or, at least, alive.

[official-penis-posts]

im the girl that saw my boyfriend with our neighbor.

im 26 and id die to have kids, im still pregnant abortion is illegal in where i live (poland)

i talked with him and he said that they slept in the same bed but swears they didn’t do anything and she was the one who fell asleep by mistake on his bed. he told me that he deserves another chance (still didn’t tell him but told him i was going to surprise him) .

i told him that i need few days away from him

¿?

Aww honey. I’m so sorry. If she fell asleep on his bed, he should’ve slept somewhere else. And he knows that. And maybe they didn’t have sex. Or maybe they didn’t technically have intercourse. Cheaters will rationalize their actions in all sorts of ways. But it’s going to happen again. If it’s not her, it will be someone else.

You want to have a child and abortion is not legal where you are, so I guess that part is settled. I don’t know what kind of social support network Poland has, but if you can realistically raise a child without him, you should do it.

But if you can’t stand the thought of doing this without him, be prepared for him to be unfaithful. Decide in advance what you will do when he’s not in your life anymore; have a plan, have a savings (that he doesn’t have access to, this part is very important). You (or he) may be angry at me for saying this and determined prove me wrong, and I hope that you do. I really, desperately, genuinely, hope that I am wrong, but: that guy is gonna fuck up your life.

[train-wrecc]

Champagne Problems

marcus baker x miller!female!reader (I just realized some of y’all may think this means that Zion’s your dad but it just means that Georgia’s your mom but you have a different dad)

flangst! ( if y’all can’t tell I really like flangst, haha)

word count: 7.1k

warnings!: mentions of pregnancy & abortion, cussing, toxic? relationship (on&off), mentions of food, anxiety, & panic attacks… i think that’s all 😅

includes: bestfriend!padma, younger!sister!ginny (15 years old), you and Marcus are 18, OC? (not really) Noah (Marcus's best friend that he lost to cancer, they never gave him a name in the show, so from now on I’ll probably just refer to him as Noah, it was the first name that came to mind) 

ALSO: before reading, I just want to preface, that it is your body and your choice. 💞

unedited!

part 2 part 3

。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

You never thought you’d be stood here, however there you were. It was as if the box full of pregnancy tests was laughing at you. You had been practically been disintegrating it with your eyes. You’d had enough, you were just gonna do it. 

As you waited for the three tests for three minutes, it was the longest three minutes of your life. You were filled with anxiety and intrusive thoughts that almost sent you spiraling. 

Your breath trembled with unevenness, your timer causing you to jolt out of your stupor. You held your breath. This was it. These pink sticks would cruelly decide your fate. 

You quickly glanced at the tests. All three tests were undoubtedly positive, each reading the word ‘positive’ on the little digital screen.

That one word ‘positive’ sent you panicking, gasping for air, as the word ran rampant in your head. Positive. They're positive. 

You couldn’t even form the words in your brain, “I’m preg-“. It was as if even acknowledging the word in your mind would make what was already your reality true. That was something you didn’t want to accept. 

Your legs gave out from under you, sending you crashing to the cold tile flooring. Goosebumps arose on your arms, unsure if they were caused by the frigid tile or the shock of the recent revelations. 

Silent sobs fell from your lips. Tears tainted your cheeks, the pregnancy tests taunting you from the counter. You were so livid with yourself. How could you have let this happen? How could you have been so stupid!? How? Why? 

Your mother had desperately tried to protect you from this; from the pain of becoming a teenage mother. You weren’t sure how you were gonna tell her, you knew it’d break her. Would she scream at you? Throw you out? Would she simply cry? And what about your siblings, how would they react? 

And Marcus? You knew from the moment you read that word on the pregnancy test that he was the father of your unborn child. Would he even want to be in your child’s life? You knew what it was like to grow up with an absent father, and you would never want your child to have to go through that. To grow up wondering why all the other kids had dads and they didn’t. 

Having to question why they were abandoned by him as you did.

Your hands formed tight fists, your nails imprinting crescent moons on the palms of your hands due to how hard you’d been clenching them.

You threw your head back, wanting to scream but you couldn’t. You didn’t want to alert anyone of what had happened while you were in the bathroom. 

A knock on the door, caused your breath to hitch in your throat. “Y/n are you almost done? You’ve been in there for like 20 minutes now,” You heard your sister Ginny call from the opposite side of the door. 

You cleared your throat, hands sweeping away the tears that had created streams down your face. 

“Yeah, Ginny, I-I’ll be out soon.” You said trying to hide the emotion your voice held. 

Ginny knew something was up, but she figured it had something to do with your on-again-off-again relationship with Marcus. She decided she would give you your space and check on you later. Sometimes she just wanted to quite literally slap some sense into you, scream at you to drop his ass. But she knew even that wouldn’t do anything. 

Marcus had your heart in a cage. You loved him unequivocally. But she wasn’t sure he felt the same. When he wasn’t with you, and you guys were in the off stage, he was with some other girl. 

Ginny loved you with all her heart, and she and everyone around you could clearly see you deserved and were worthy of much more than Marcus could offer you. Albeit, you were too blinded by that captivating, enamoring smile of his. It pulled you back into his arms every time. His brown eyes brought you crawling back to him each time you tried to escape them.

。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

You tried your best to mask your emotions, however, you were pregnant and even more hormonal. So to say you were hiding it well, well, it was contradictory, to say the least.

You hadn’t told a single soul. As the days passed you spent them kissing Marcus and doing a lot more, taking in all of him that you could, trying to memorize every part of him. This minute voice in the back of your mind told you once you told him, you would lose him. For good. 

When you weren’t with Marcus you spent your nights hysterically crying in bed. Your hand clamped against your mouth in a feeble attempt to obscure your cries. 

One night Ginny had heard you, coming into your room to find you on the verge of a panic attack. That was when she knew something was terribly wrong.

Your chest shook, heart, beating erratically. You shook your head wanting to wake up from this nightmare. 

“Y/n/n, calm down, you’re okay, everything’s gonna be okay, alright?” Ginny attempted to calm you down. 

You only shook your head, somehow your sobbing becoming even louder at her words. She pulled you into a tight embrace. Rocking you back and forth in an attempt to soothe you. Something you had done for her numerous times when she would have panic attacks.  

You felt disgusted with yourself. You were her older sister. You were supposed to set a good example for her. You are the one whose supposed to comfort her, and be her shoulder to cry on, not the other way around. 

Ginny couldn’t seem to calm you, no matter what she did. She wasn’t quite sure how your mother hadn’t woken up or Austin. 

“Y/n/n, do you want me to call Marcus?” She asked you, she may not like him for you, but she knew he would somehow be able to instantly calm you down. 

“No,” You cried sobbing harder, at the mention of his name. 

“Okay, okay, I won’t call him,” She murmured. 

She gently rubbed your back, continuing to rock the both of you back and forth. It took a while but you eventually calmed down. Ginny stayed with you that night and cuddled you to sleep not wanting to leave you alone. A tear escaped Ginny’s eye, she hated seeing you like this. 

The following morning, Georgia burst into the room, searching for her youngest daughter. She found her in your bed, the two of you holding each other; it was something she hadn’t seen in a while and it piqued her curiosity. She could immediately tell something was up. Your eyes were swollen, cheeks splotchy, all pointing to one thing. 

You had been crying. She had a feeling it had something to do with the boy that just seemed to keep on hurting you. Often times she thought it would be best if she poisoned his food or drink while he was over but she refrained from doing so for your sake because somehow you loved that boy. She knew what it was like to be so in love with someone that just seemingly couldn’t commit to you. 

Marcus could hurt you so deeply, and send you on a rollercoaster of highs and lows. But the highs, God were they so good. You would be smiling for days, nothing able to tear you down except the only person who could paint that same smile on your face. She loved seeing you that happy, that was all she wanted for her kid's, unfaltering happiness. 

Your mother let you and your siblings stay home that day. She woke you with your favorite breakfast and favorite drink paired with it.

“Thanks, mama.” You tried your hardest to bring a smile to your face, for her sake. But you couldn’t and it ended up being more of a grimace. Hiding this secret was taking a toll on you, it had been two weeks since you had found out the shocking news, that you were gonna be a mother in 9 months. Give or take. You were beginning to drown. 

Ginny glanced at her mother, eyes full of worry. 

“Anything for my girls,” She smiled at you. 

“How about we have a girl's day, huh, how does that sound?” She inquired.

“I really appreciate you mom, but I kind of just want to stay home today if that’s alright?” 

“Of course, babygirl.” She gave you a warm smile.

“You know, you can tell me anything, right, baby?” She pulled you into a hug. You fought back the tears that so desperately were trying to slip out. You nodded, not trusting your voice to respond. 

“Alright, well, I’ll leave y’all be.” She trailed out, closing the door behind her.

You took a small bite of your breakfast, you were beyond starving.

“Y/n? What’s wrong, please talk to me,” Ginny murmured, hurt in her voice. 

“I hate seeing you like this,” She whispered.

“It’s nothing Gin, alright, don’t worry about me. Okay, me and Marcus are just having a rough patch that’s all.” You lied to the girl, you just needed more time before you inevitably broke your family’s hearts. 

“I know that’s not true Y/n/n,” she shook her head, “this is different.” 

“Ginny, I promise you, I’m fine-“ as that last word fell from your lips, you felt an overwhelming rise of nausea fill you. You leaped up from your bed, sprinting to the bathroom. You practically vomited your intestines into the toilet. 

You wiped your mouth with some toilet paper. You rinsed your mouth, followed by brushing your teeth along with some mouthwash to get rid of the horrid taste of bile. 

As you turned to walk out, Ginny stood in the doorway, eyebrows scrunched together. 

“Something in the food must’ve been bad or undercooked,” You explained. 

“Mhm,” She nodded.

。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

You hadn’t talked to your best friend Padma, in a few days, like everyone else Padma knew you were acting odd, however, she had yet to voice her opinion. You knew being around Padma, would cause her to lure your secret out, and you couldn’t risk that. So, you had been hanging out with Marcus a lot more. 

Albeit, it caused you to feel extremely guilty for keeping it from him. It had almost been a month that you’d been harboring this secret, and you knew you’d need to tell everyone soon. However, you decided to keep on basking in the bliss of ignoring your problems.

You had decided to go over to Marcus's house, you knew he was home seeing as you were neighbors, but he hadn’t been responding to your texts. You should’ve just given him the space he clearly wanted. You walked into the house, as if it were your own, seeing as you spent a lot of time there. 

Max was nowhere to be found, so you signed hello to Ellen and Clint and made your way to Marcus’s room. You knocked on his door, before pushing it open. The boy barely glanced up at you, before returning to his sketchbook. “So, now you’re ignoring me?” You questioned him.

A sigh escaped his full lips at your remark. “Really, Marcus? You’re gonna do this again?” Shaking your head in annoyance. Your hormones were not about to put up with his shit.

“I don’t wanna talk about this right now, Y/n,”

“Well too bad, Marcus, because I’m here, and I want to talk about it. Right now. I seriously don’t feel like paying your games right now.”

He raised his eyebrows at your tone, never having heard you speak to him like that before. “I’m too tired for this, Y/n, just go.”

“No, Marcus, I’m not leaving until you tell me what the hell your problem is.”

“You, Y/n! You want to know what my problem is, there it is, Y/n! You’ve been so fucking clingy this past fucking month, I haven’t had a second to myself. God, I just wanted a little space but clearly, that’s too much to fucking ask of you.” He spat at you, brows scrunched up in anger.

His outburst caused you to purse your lips in shock before your jaw clenched with anger.

“Oh, sorry, for wanting to spend time with my boyfriend before he inevitably breaks things off at the beginning of each month, like some sort of fucking routine! So he can be with some other bitch for a few weeks, before deciding to come back to me, god, Marcus!”

“What the fuck is up with you, why are you acting like this all of a sudden?” 

“What’s wrong with me?” You questioned letting out a humorless laugh.

“What’s wrong with me is that I’m tired of your shit, Marcus. What’s wrong with me is that I’m pregnant with your fucking kid!” You exclaimed in exasperation your hands flying up in anger.

Marcus’s brown eyes widened immensely, at your words. It dawned on you, that you had just told him that you were pregnant. Your hand flew to your mouth in shock, “Oh my god,” You murmured. 

He sat in silence for a few moments, and you turned to face his door as you began to feel panic bubble up in your chest. “You’re pregnant?” He quietly questioned, as his head dropped into his hands.

You couldn’t bring yourself to form the words, simply nodding your head, as your eyes burned holes into his wooden flooring. “This can’t be happening, Y/n, we’re only 18, I mean we haven’t even graduated high school yet!” 

You took deep breaths trying to calm yourself, “Don’t you think I know that, Marcus?” You hissed at him.

“What the hell, Y/n, you- you said you were on the pill!”

“I was, Marcus, it’s not 100% effective, and don’t you dare try to fucking blame this on me okay?” You turned to him with nothing but irateness smeared across your face.

“I can’t deal with this shit right now,” He quietly muttered, however, you still heard him.

“How the fuck do I even know that it’s really mine?” He questioned, now standing up.

“You’re fucking with me right, Marcus?” Fury burning in your eyes.

His face remained stoic, “Unlike you Marcus, you’re the only person I’ve ever been with,” You said through clenched teeth.

You couldn’t control your anger anymore, and the next thing you knew you were slapping him. “You’re a fucking asshole.” You said, before leaving his room, tears beginning to cloud your vision. 

You attempted to rid yourself of the tears, but you couldn’t. They streamed down your face like a rapid, as your breath began to quicken. You reached for your phone calling Padma.

You sat in her SUV, as she shushed you, caressing your hair.

“Everything’s gonna work out in the end, Y/n/n, I promise.”

“It’s not Lo,” You managed to say through your crying and whimpers, “I fucked up so bad,” You whaled. 

(*A/N: Padma means Lotus in another language, I don’t remember what language… but Lo is short for Lotus, I don’t know, I thought it was a cute nickname, rather than using ‘Pad’.)

“I’m here for you, Y/n/n, and I always will be okay, you know that, right?”

You gave a nod in response, sniffling.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you, I’m a terrible friend.” You cried.

“It’s okay, bub, I know you’ve been struggling this past month, I don’t hold it against you for needing some time.”

“You should, I have no excuse,” You whimpered.

“But I don’t, okay? Do you think you’re ready to tell me what’s wrong?” She gently asked. You nodded, staying in her warm, comforting embrace as you explained why you had been so distant, due to the fact that you would be a teen mom in less than 9 months. You told her about the fight with Marcus, how you hadn’t meant to just blurt the words out, and how he had the audacity to question if your child was his.

“Oh my god, Y/n/n, he’s a complete dick!”

“I know, and what’s worse is that, after everything that we’ve been through, I still love him. Does that make me crazy?” Your eyes welled up with more tears, and a dry laugh slipped from your lips.

“Very much so, but that’s what love does. Anyone who says they're in love and doesn’t feel crazy, well they’re not really in love.”

“Can I ask you something?” She voiced.

You nodded, “Why didn’t you feel like you could talk to me about this? We’ve been friends forever Y/n/n, you know I’d never judge you…” She gently probed.

“I know Lo, I just didn’t know how to and I didn’t wanna burden you with this secret,”

“You wouldn’t have bub, I promise you,” She said her hands clasping yours.

“Does anyone else know?”

“No,” You responded, “I have no idea how I’m gonna tell my mom, or Ginny…”

Tears began to leak from your eyes once again, “Mom is gonna be so disappointed in me,” You cried, “I mean she was a teen mom, and this is literally what she has tried to prevent from happening,” 

“I’m a terrible daughter, and I’ll probably be a terrible mother too, I mean I’m only eighteen, and- and this kid is gonna have to grow up without a Dad, just like I did. They're gonna wonder why they weren’t good enough, and I-I’m gonna have to raise them by m-myself,” Your breath hitched, as you continued to cry and ramble.

“You’re gonna be a great mom, Y/n/n, if there’s one thing I’m sure of it’s that. And yeah, maybe it’s not exactly what your mom wanted but, I’m sure she’ll be supportive, especially because she knows exactly what it’s like to be a teen mom. And Ginny and Austin will probably be so excited to have a niece or nephew. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

You nodded your head, trying to believe her words.

“When are you gonna tell them?”

“I have no idea…”

。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

Marcus hadn’t talked to you since last week when you had accidentally told him you were pregnant. You hadn’t tried to reach out to him either, unsure of how to feel anymore. 

You glanced up at your mother’s dark brown eyes which were filled with shock as she tried to keep her face neutral. Your younger brother Austin was giddy with excitement, a wide grin playing on his face, Ginny’s face furrowed in worry.

You nervously played with the ring Marcus had given you when you first began dating at 15. A ring filled with false promises, empty words, and happiness that no longer remained. “I tried, I tried so hard… to prevent this, so you wouldn’t have to go through what I did,” She muttered, her tone holding a wave of slight anger to it.

 “How could you be so fucking stupid Y/n?! I mean, truly, I-I cannot believe this...” Your mother suddenly burst out.

Your mouth was agape, you were speechless. You had hoped she would’ve reacted better, but you knew better. Your bottom lip trembled, eyes shimmering with tears. “Mom!” Ginny snapped at her.

You quickly got up, making your way to your room. You were too busy trying to drown the feeling of an oncoming panic attack that you didn’t notice Marcus sat on your bed. Your breathing became more erratic, your panic causing you to not hear Marcus as he questioned if you were okay. 

“I should just get rid of it,” You sniffed, the words being filled with bitterness as they left your mouth.

“Princess?” 

You looked up, eyes now meeting Marcus’s. Your eyes widened, “What-what are you doing here?”

“You were planning on aborting our baby? Without telling me?” He accused you with belligerence.

“Marcus, I-”

“I can’t believe you, Y/n,”

“Marcus, please, let me-”

“I’m out of here,” He shook his head, leaving the way he came.

“You’re not the one who’s carrying this baby, okay, Marcus!” You called out to him, as he was midway through climbing out of your window.

He turned toward you, “Yeah, soon neither will you.” He snapped at you, slamming your window shut.

(A/N: Damn, double homicide. LMAO please tell me y’all have seen those tiktoks, if not just ignore this… 😅)

You gasped for a breath and stood frozen in place for a moment. In a fit of anger, you began flinging things across the room. A picture frame of you and Marcus went flying at your window, the force causing it to shatter. You let out a scream of frustration, as you sat on the floor, sobbing loudly, your heart physically paining you. 

Your fists met the floor, pounding on the wood, not knowing how to handle all the anger, sadness, and frustration that filled you.

When Marcus reached his room, he slammed his door in frustration and anger. Anger at himself, you, and the world. His eyes held unshed tears, his face in a scowl. He abruptly began punching his bedroom wall. Not stopping until he felt a force holding his fists back. He hadn’t realized he had been crying until he felt his tears now hitting his fists. His head fell against the wall, as Maxine pulled him into a hug, “What’s wrong Mark?” She spoke up after a few silent moments.

(A/N: I’m never using that nickname again, I’m sorry but that made me physically cringe…haha)

“Everything.” He breathed out.

Marcus had decided to confide in his twin, something he hadn’t done in a while.

“I- I haven’t been able to say it but, I-I love her, Max. I know I don’t deserve her, I’ve been treating her like crap for the past year. Our relationship has brought her nothing but pain, and I try and try to let her go. But I can’t each time I try to break it off, I end up going back to her because I can’t fucking breathe without her. I’m such a fucking asshole.” He shook his head in frustration. 

“She’s- she’s fucking pregnant, Max, I don’t- I can’t be a dad. I can barely fucking take care of myself,” He whispered, exasperation in his voice. 

“I thought for a second that maybe we could figure things out, so I went over there, and she’s fucking talking about getting rid of our baby, Max.” 

“I think- I think you need to figure out what you want, Marcus, and once you do, you need to tell Y/n alright? Because this is something big, that you both need to discuss, and you need to stop being an idiot and tell her how you really feel, instead of getting scared and running away from your feelings,” She told her brother, trying to contain her thoughts, she wanted him to come to his own decision, albeit she really excited at the thought of possibly having a niece or nephew. Preferably a niece.

。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

After Ginny and Austin had told their mom off for shouting at their hormonal, pregnant sister, Ginny texted Padma hoping she’d be able to cheer you up. Padma had shown up at your house to whisk you away for a little. Before you left you tightly hugged Ginny and Austin who had showered you with love before you left, showing they supported you in whatever you would decide to do. Their kind words brought tears to your eyes, but you blinked them away not wanting to cry anymore. As for your mom, you assumed she was hiding in her room, an attempt at hiding you from her disappointment in you.

Padma came from the even wealthier side of Wellsbury, so money was something she didn’t lack. She had taken you out for some ice cream, ordering your favorite. Once you both had finished your ice creams, she decided you both needed a mani-pedi. 

Padma had definitely helped relax you with her impromptu girl’s day. Once you guys finished at the salon, you begged Padma to let you stay the night at her house, not wanting to return to your own and possibly run into Marcus or your mother.

You were grateful when she said yes, and it was a good thing seeing as Marcus had shown up at your house, looking for you.

Ginny stood with her arms crossed, her full eyebrows raised in umbrage. Marcus nervously swallowed at your little sister’s seeming repulsiveness toward him. Before he could even utter a letter she began, “She’s not here. And even if she were, she most definitely wouldn’t want to see you.” She told him, her words filled with nothing but loathing for the boy. 

“Ginny, I-”

“You know I really don’t understand what she sees in you. You have treated her like some disposable toy for I don’t even know how long, yet somehow she still loves you.” She bit her lip in anger, “You don’t deserve her, she deserves someone way better than you, someone who actually loves her, cares about-”

“Ginny, you can say whatever you want about me, but don’t say that I don’t care about or love your sister, because I do.” He interrupted her, with anguish.

“Then act like it, Marcus!” She shouted at him, “Because you say one thing, but you do the complete opposite! You need to get your shit together before it’s too late, and she leaves you. For good. It seems like she’s this close to dropping your ass,” She gestured with her hand. 

Marcus clenched his jaw, his eyes glazing over with tears as he gave a small nod at the young girl who was grilling him, “I’m trying, Ginny.” He softly spoke.

“Well try harder, Marcus, for my sister, for your unborn child. I mean, don’t you want to be in their life?”

“I don’t know if they’re gonna have a life”

“Well, that’s something you guys need to talk about, and Marcus, please, stop hurting her,” Ginny begged.

“I promise,” He murmured his voice breaking slightly.

。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

You returned home the next day and were full-on expecting to come home and be met with an angry mom, and a torn-up room. Albeit, it was the opposite. Your eyes held a sadness in them, feeling completely lost and overwhelmed. You were surprised when you swung your door open, your mother sat on your bed in your somehow tidy room. 

She gave you a soft smile, tears in her eyes. You weren’t sure what to do, so you simply stood there, feeling shame, waiting for her to practically throw you out. You attempted to blink your tears away, hugging yourself in an attempt to comfort yourself.

“Baby… I’m- I’m so sorry for what I said yesterday.��

Your eyes were turned downward, your gaze on the floor. Suddenly you saw her feet appear in front of your own before you felt her wrap her arms around you, causing your tears to silently fall. “I should have never called you stupid, because my sweet girl you are anything but, and I am so proud of you, okay?” She said her voice full of emotion, her hand soothingly rubbing your back. 

You silently nodded, sniffles and soft whimpers leaving you. “I’m gonna be here with you baby girl, every step of the way, alright? I support you no matter what, darling, I love you so much.” She whispered as you continued to keep your head buried in the crook of her neck.

“I’m so mad at myself for what I said to you baby, please forgive me, I know what it’s like to be in your position and I really should have comforted you instead of making you feel worse.” She cradled your head in her hands, before pulling back from you, wiping your tears, and placing a kiss on your forehead.

You sat on your bed, cuddled up with your mom, being in her arms brought you the utmost comfort. Your head once again, found its place in the crook of her neck with your eyes closed. They felt so sore from all the crying you had done in the past month and a half. 

“Have you and Marcus talked about what you’re gonna do?” Your mother softly asked you.

You wordlessly shook your head ‘no’. “I think he thinks I want an abortion,” You gently voiced. “Oh, and may I ask why he thinks that?” 

“It was after I told you guys about my pregnancy, and I came up here, and I was really upset, and I said that maybe I should just abort it. I didn’t know Marcu was here and he heard me, I haven’t talked to him since.” She quietly nodded, processing your words.

“And is that what you want, baby?”

“I don’t know mama, a part of me wants to try and raise this baby but I don’t wanna do it without him, but I think I’m gonna have to.” Your voice cracked at your last words.

“If he’s in your baby’s life, is up to him. But honey, you won’t have to raise your baby alone, you’re gonna have me, Ginny, Lo, we're all gonna be here to help you and support you if you decide you want to keep this baby.”

You nodded, her words bringing some comfort to you. Your mom let out a small sigh but before she could say anything else you spoke up. “Mom, how did you decide you wanted to keep me?” You questioned her. “Honestly, honey, I just knew. I mean from the moment I found out I was pregnant, I couldn’t wait for you. I was so happy to finally be able to love someone so dearly, who’d love me just as much as I loved them. I guess in a way… it was for my own selfish reasons of wanting to feel loved, but I try not to think about that too much, and just focus on being grateful for you, and to my younger self for making the only decision that I felt was right.”

“I think, I think I wanna keep them.” You said, gently placing your palm against your tummy that’d soon grow to carry your baby.

You stayed in your mother’s loving embrace for a while longer before she moved, explaining to you she had some things she had to take care of. She sent Ginny and Austin up to cuddle you, before making her way towards the Baker’s house.

It was pure luck that Marcus happened to be walking out of his house, just as she had begun walking toward their front door. “Marcus, just the boy-soon-to-be-father, I wanted to talk to.” She smiled, a calculating smile, at the boy.

“Mrs. Miller, uh, I don’t know what to say…” He murmured.

“Well, I just wanted to come over here and congratulate you, of course. As well as to remind you that you will help raise this child and if you continue to string my daughter along, and treat her like your little plaything, you won’t get to see your child grow, let alone the light of day, okey-dokey?” Her serious expression abruptly disappeared as she once again smiled at him and patted his shoulder.

“I think this chat went splendidly, but I best get going,” She said before walking off.

Marcus was left speechless, mouth slightly ajar. He had yet to tell his parents, and he hadn’t thought you would’ve already told Georgia. His talk with Max had made him realize he needed to tell you how he felt about you and your unborn child.

You, Ginny, and Austin had just settled into a comfortable position on your queen size bed, which was oh-so-comfortable. A knock interrupted your laughter at the movie that had been playing. It caused the three of you to glance at each other before Ginny decided to go and answer it. You followed her, not wanting her to answer the door by herself. Of course, that prompted Austin to go as well.

“Ginny, wait, for-”

You were interrupted by Ginny pulling the door wide open, Marcus stood on your porch, your favorite flowers in hand and a stuffed teddy bear. He looked up as the door opened, making eye contact with Ginny, his eyes held remorse, he was ready to plead with Ginny to speak with you, however as his lips moved to form the words, his eyes caught you, as you stood a little ways behind her. 

“Y/n?” He questioned in a soft tone.

Ginny raised her full brows at the boy, unimpressed, “Y/n do you want me to-” she began but you cut her off. “It’s okay Ginny, why don’t you and Austin go watch the movie, I’ll be up soon.” You smiled at the two.

Ginny stood there for a moment before you shooed her away. Austin left after he had turned to Marcus and said, “If you hurt my sister, I’ll hurt you. Trust me, I’ve stabbed someone with a pencil before.” in a serious tone.

“I promise I won’t, not anymore.” He said with a nod of his head.

You turned back to face Marcus, you attempted to keep your guard up, arms crossed as you raised your brows expectantly at the boy, waiting for him to speak. Marcus held out the teddy bear that was half your size and the chocolates, you silently accepted them, gesturing for him to follow you to the living room. Once you had both gotten seated comfortably on the couch he spoke up.

“Bub, I am so sorry for the way I’ve been treating you and our relationship recently. I know nothing I say will excuse my actions- not that I want it to, I just, want you to know that I’m so sorry for the way I’ve acted recently. And  I-I,” He clasped his hands together before he closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his struggle to say whatever he was trying to say. 

Marcus opened his eyes glancing at the ceiling before returning to meet your own eyes, his brown eyes slightly glazed over. “Y/n, I love you.” Those three words were not what you were expecting Marcus to say, after all, he hadn’t said them in over a year. You tried to remain stoic, however, Marcus knew you, and he could see the tears that had welled up in your beautiful eyes. You turned away from him to wipe a stray tear that had cascaded down your cheek, you hated how hormonal your pregnancy made you. You faced Marcus once again, his eyes practically begging for you, your touch, your love. 

You gave in as you practically jumped into his arms, your head buried in his chest. He embraced you in his arms, as your eyes watered. “I’m sorry I haven’t told you I love you in so long. I just, I guess… since- Noah, I was… I don’t know, scared of losing you, and I- I tried to push you away. I could never commit though, I love you too much to ever truly let you go.” His arms tightened around you as he said those last few words. 

You sniffled you can’t believe you had never realized that maybe Marcus had been acting this way due to losing Noah, you were mad at yourself. “I’m sorry too. Sorry for not realizing, god how could I have been so insensitive, all this time…” You whimpered. 

“Princess, you have nothing to be sorry for, you were there for me through all of that, and I’m so grateful for you and so sorry I never showed you how much I appreciated it. I don’t know how I’m gonna make up all of this to you, but I will, I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy.” He said, one of his hands cradling your head in his palm. 

“And I-, if you decide that you want to keep the baby, I will try my hardest to be the best dad to them that I can.” He gently murmured. His words caused you to slightly pull away so you could meet his eyes. 

“Marcus, that day you were in my room, I-I never meant what I said,” Your voice cracked, “I was just so upset because I had told everyone about the baby and my mom didn’t really react that well… and she called me stupid, I- I overreacted and I wish I could take back what I said. I never once thought about aborting the baby, our baby.” You sniffed, as more tears fell from your eyes, prompting Marcus to wipe them. 

“I’m sorry you had to tell your family by yourself. I wanted to be there with you, and support you. I never should’ve acted like such a fucking asshole when you told me, I was just scared…and just a fucking dipshit, god. I never should have said what I said to you Y/n, and I will never ever act like that ever again. I know I’m the only person you’ve been with and I should have never questioned if the baby was mine, I was being a complete dick. I know you think I’ve been with others but I haven’t. You were my first, and only.” He said, which slightly shocked you.

“What? How did I not know that…”

“I wanted you to think I was cool and I don’t know somewhat experienced, I was dumb and immature.” He responded. You simply nodded, he was.

Marcus cleared his throat, “Y/n, I-I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore and you want to co-parent our baby. I mean- I’ve hurt you so, so much and I wish I could take back all that I did to hurt you, and all the pain that I’ve caused you. So, I-I won’t like it, but I’ll understand.”

You looked at Marcus, his eyes full of remorse, and love. “I love you so much Marcus, with all my heart. And after everything that we’ve been through, I love you just as much as the day I first met you. I still want to be with you, and raise our baby.” You smiled, your eyes scintillating with tears. “But, if you ever, ever treat me or speak to me the way you have been, I will not hesitate to end things. Because as much as I love you, I will not allow anyone to treat me like that again, let alone the father of my child.” You said, trying to keep your voice even, so he couldn’t hear the hurt. 

Marcus nodded, “Thank you, for giving me a second chance.” He said cradling your face in his hands. He began to lean in closer toward you, and you followed along, closing the distance between the two of you. As your lips met, you felt tears fall from both his and your eyes as you both poured all of your heart and love into the kiss. Your hands wrapped around his neck, one moving up into his hair and running your hands through his silky strands of hair, as you tried to pull him impossibly closer to you. Marcus was just as eager to be as close to you as possible, pulling you in his lap. 

Your lips continually met, kissing until you had to pull away to breathe.

“We're having a baby,” He said as tears of joy fell from both of your guy's eyes. You nodded, your grin matching his own. His eyes widened for a second, “What?” You questioned him.

“We still have to tell my parents.”

“Crap, and Max.” You whined.

“I already told her…”

“Oh, okay. What’d she say?” You said slightly relieved and slightly nervous.

“She didn’t really say how she felt just slapped some sense into me, but I can tell she wanted us to keep the baby..” He smiled.

“Well, I’m glad, remind me to thank her.” You returned a smile to him. He nodded, pulling you into him, once again hugging you, which you gladly accepted. You stayed like that for a couple moments. 

“Let’s go and watch the movie with Gin and Austin?” 

Marcus nodded with a smile, pulling you to stand with him. Once you both made it to your room, you smiled at the sight of your siblings cuddled together on your bed, waiting for you.

“Make some room for us?” You questioned them.

They both turned to you, raised eyebrows of curiosity. 

“We’re keeping the baby, so we’re gonna need all the help we can get.” You grinned, hand in Marcus’s own. 

Ginny and Austin had smiles plastered on their faces, as they jumped off your bed and ran towards you and Marcus, pulling both of you into a hug. This caused you and Marcus to laugh. You both had a feeling that everything would be okay. As long as you had each other and your families, you’d be able to overcome anything. 

。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

A/N: I hope this was good and I hope it made y’all cry because once my writing has brought tears to someone's eyes, I’ll know my writing is at least okay, haha. Anyways I kinda wanna write a follow-up to this like about y’all going to the first doctor appointment, and stuff like that! 

ALSO, a lot happened in this. I LOVED miller!reader,  little!sister!Ginny & BFF!Padma, but how do y’all feel about it? 🤨

don't ask about the fic name i feel like it was kinda related to the fic but also not... I was just listening to champagne problems by taylor swift & was like that’ll do 🥲

& this idea just randomly popped in my head and I had to write it and if the ending feels rushed it’s because it kinda was because I wanted to post this for y’all! 💞 

[starlightsuffered]

When It Happens

Warnings - break up, unwanted child by father, not accepting child, DNA test, mentions of abortion

Once he'd been the type to bring me flowers weekly. I'd kept a journal of the sweet things he said because I needed to remember his love and creativity. We'd said I love you ten days after we started dating. He said it just felt right, and I agreed. He had showed me a fairytale love I'd stopped believing in.

Now, it was all gone. We hadn't kissed in two weeks, making love was even les frequent. He was always coming home late. The other night he'd even rolled out of my arms when I'd tried to cuddle. I'd muffled my sobs, or at least I hope I had because it would break my heart if he had heard and done nothing. Because of all this, I wasn't surprised at the words coming out of his mouth.

"I'm just so young, I need to be free. You want me home all the time and I want to take on new projects," he explained, using his hands in a way that had once mesmerized me.

"You said you wanted a family with me," I cried.

"I know, I did then, I wasn't lying, but it kinda hit me just how young I am," he explained.

"Yes, and you've done amazing things!" I pleaded. "Let this be another amazing thing that you don't give up on."

"I'm sorry," he shook his head.

I moved out and purged him from my life, except one thing didn't get purged. I realized a few months later that I was pregnant. I couldn't abort the baby, I just couldn't. I still loved Timothée, and though he'd ghosted me as I had him, having this one part of him may not be so bad. I'd always wanted kids anyway, this was a headstart.

Soon I had a beautiful baby girl. I named her Anne. Anne was a bubbly child and looked like Timothée had contributed all her genes instead of half. I got compliments on her all the time, so that's what I expected when I got a tap on my shoulder when I took her on a walk.

"Y/n?" The voice said in disbelief. There he was, messy curls, sunglasses, sweat pants, looking no different one painful year later. I had intended never to tell Anne about her father. How bad it would hurt that he'd left so fast he didn't know she existed, and that he wouldn't want her anyhow.

"Timothée," I smiled and he gave me a friendly hug.

"You get a job as a babysitter?" He chuckled, pointing to the stroller that held my lightly cooing 5 month old.

"No, she's mine," I smiled.

"You move on fast," he said, with a small amount of pain in his voice.

"Um, Timmy," I said, and I pulled back the hood. His jaw dropped, the resemblance was uncanny.

"Didn't move on," I said softly.

"There's no way, you would've told me," he said.

"You ghosted me, I didn't know until later and I had no way to get ahold of you," I said.

"It's just not possible," he said, running a hand over his face. "Here I was coming to tell you I regret what I did, and now this?

"You were?" I asked gently.

"Yeah, I've missed you like crazy," he chuckled.

"I never slept with anyone else, she's yours," I swore.

"I, I need a DNA test, if it's positive, we should try again, even if I didn't want to be a dad, I am now. I'm not going to be a absent one," he swore.

Of course, the DNA test came back positive. Timothée moved us into his huge house. I'd forgotten the luxury he lived in.

I watched him try to parent. I'd always thought he'd be a natural, but he wasn't. He always held her away from him. He handled her like she might crack like an egg. He got frustrated when she cried or threw something she wanted. I told him babies like cause and effect and can't think long term. She's going to drop her soother, because she wants to see what happens, but then she wants it back, so she cries.

"What do you want?" He asked desperately one day as she sobbed. Her identical eyes were welled with tears and her tiny face was red as he offered her toy after toy. She didn't stop.

"I can't do this," he slapped his thighs and got up.

"Because you don't want to," I said with a sigh. He still hadn't accepted her as his child.

"I'm trying my best," he gritted out.

"With actions, not with your heart," I said, rubbing his shoulder. We'd tentatively gotten back together, and our relationship was great, but if we fought, it was about this.

"You always say that," he said, and let me fold him into my arms.

"Timmy," I said, kissing his chest. "You treat her like a child, but not your child."

His head lowered onto my shoulder in shame. He took a couple deep breaths.

"I know," he finally said in a whisper. "Please don't give up on me, I'm trying to get there."

"Promise you'll tell me when it locks in?" I begged.

"You'll be the first to know," he smiled, and kissed my nose.

That night Anne was inconsolable. She was screaming so hard I worried about her throat. I'd tried absolutely everything I could think of, and nothing helped. I was absolutely exhausted. Finally, I did what I tried never to do. I laid down the screaming infant and went into mine and Timothée's room.

"Baby," I rubbed his arm to wake him up.

"Mmm?" He asked groggily.

"I'm really sorry, but Anne won't settle and I've been up for so long. Can you please try?" I begged.

"Only for you," he pecked a kiss onto my lips. "Because you know she hates me."

"She does not," I yawned, and climbed back into bed. To my utter surprise, the crying stopped. I waited, and waited, but no more noise. Then there were thundering footsteps as Timothée slid into the room and bolted to the bed with Anne in his arms. His eyes looked like a starry night, and tears streaked his cheeks now, a familiar scene since Anne was his twin.

"It happened," he said in a voice strained with emotion. "She likes me, and I adore her. She's the most precious thing in this world."

"I don't think I've ever been happier than this moment," I said, crying now too. Timothée pulled me to him, kissing me thoroughly on the mouth, but making sure to not crush Anne who was drifting to sleep.

"She looks so much like me," he said with joy.

"I've been saying so," I chuckled.

"I didn't see it fully until now. Holy shit I love her so much," he said and then looked terrified. "Sorry baby Anne, daddy didn't mean to say a bad word."

This was the first time I'd heard him refer to himself as daddy and my heart soared. He was caressing every part of her, her tiny fingers, her bushy eyebrows, her nose, her lips.

"She's beyond perfect, thank you for giving us her," he said to me, and kissed me again.

"You're welcome," I smiled, overjoyed at this turn of events.

"You can put her in the crib if you want, she's fast asleep," I offered.

"Could I... Could I maybe sit on the bed and hold her and look at her? I want to make up for lost time," he asked sheepishly.

"Yes of course," I said. As I cuddled under the covers I heard Timothée telling whispered stories to Anne. Some were fairytales, some were about his movies, a couple we about us and her. I fell asleep to his happy murmurs and knew he'd never doubt again.

[coochiequeens]

'There are wonderful surrogates but the system is also allowing ­others to take advantage.' Says a woman who exploited another woman

Twins? No, but this couple's baby boys were born just five months apart after a terrifying tale that raises grave questions about modern-day surrogacy

Cáhan and Cómhan Kilgannon look to the outside world like they are twins

But pair from County Fermanagh, Northern Ireland were born five  months apart 

Parents Kiara and Stevie conceived naturally just after using a surrogate mother 

By JENNY JOHNSTON FOR THE MAIL ON SUNDAY

PUBLISHED: 17:16 EST, 18 February 2023 | UPDATED: 17:16 EST, 18 February 2023 

Snug in their double buggy, peeking out with matching, adorable blue eyes, Cáhan and Cómhan Kilgannon look for all the world like twins as they enjoy a stroll with parents ­Stevie and Kiara.

'When we are out in shops, people assume they are twins,' says dad Stevie. 'When they were younger and the size difference between them more noticeable, we'd explain that there was actually five months between them.

'But you could see people doing the maths and getting confused.'

Cáhan (it means 'little battler' in Irish) is 15 months old, while his brother Cómhan (meaning 'twin') is ten months. 

And there is a fascinating and heartwarming reason for the age discrepancy. 

Biologically, Cáhan is Kiara's and Stevie's child, conceived through IVF using her egg and his sperm, and born via surrogacy after Kiara had been told she would never carry her own child.

The couple opted for an increasingly common surrogacy route – delighted to find a stranger who effectively offered them her womb. 

Stevie says: 'We explained it to family and friends as 'our bun, her oven'.'

Yet five months into the surrogate's pregnancy, the 'impossible' happened – Kiara became pregnant herself. Entirely naturally. 

'The doctors – we'd been to them all, even an expert in the US – said it simply wasn't possible for me to carry a child,' she explains. 

'When it happened, we couldn't believe our double miracle. The boys will be in the same class at school, so we have years ahead of having to explain why they appear to be twins, but aren't.'

At their home in County Fermanagh, Northern Ireland, this couple's joy is palpable

So too, though, are more com­plicated feelings. It turns out their 'surrogacy journey' was anything but joyful. 

Indeed, they're speaking out today because they want to warn other couples – 'who may be as desperate as we were' – that the whole experience can push you to the edge.

The reality of their situation is that the relationship with their surrogate broke down during her pregnancy. 

They even feared she would abort their child. 

'It was a real worry – later confirmed when she posted on social media that she'd con­sidered a termination,' says Kiara. '

At another stage she threatened to keep our baby if a whole list of requests that had never been mentioned before were not met.'

It sounds as if everything that could go wrong with the surrogacy agreement – 'a piece of paper that is legal but not legally binding', says Stevie – did.

Petty disagreements, mostly about money, escalated to the point where they were consulting lawyers and trying to get mediation.

'In the process, she cut us off, blocked us from messaging her, refused to allow us to go to scans, which she'd previously said we could attend. 

'She told midwives and hospital staff – who deal with surrogacy arrangements all the time, and had been wonderful about making us feel part of it – not to include us.

'In the weeks coming up to the birth, we had moved over to England, where she lives, to be in place for the birth. Yet for that full four weeks we had no contact with her.

'We had no idea if she would even hand him over when he was born. We discovered – the hard way – that biological parents have no rights,' Stevie recalls.'

Kiara – pregnant during the latter stages of this delicate process – was distraught. 

'My pregnancy was deemed high-risk and the ­doctors said I must I avoid stress.

'But I could not have been more stressed. I thought I was going to lose both babies.'

It is very rare for a couple to be in this situation – and also uncommon for a couple who have had a 'successful' surrogacy journey to talk about the pitfalls. 

They can share their story now because, in December, a court granted them a Parental Order, giving them full legal res­ponsibility for Cáhan.

In any surrogacy situation, there is a period of some months when the intended parents are in a legal limbo. 

Although Stevie was even­tually named on Cáhan's initial birth certificate – they had no birth certificate at all for him for several months – Kiara was not, as the surrogate is always the mother, by law, until a Parental Order is granted.

Issues such as who is authorised to make medical decisions can be contentious – but in amicable surrogacy arrangements, these things can be agreed and made workable. 

The frustrations were made all the more difficult with two babies in the mix.

Kiara says: 'It meant we were in this ridiculous situation where I could get treatment for Cómhan, but with Cáhan, Stevie had to do everything.'

It has long been accepted that the law surrounding surrogacy in the UK, which has not been changed in 40 years, needs to be updated, but a much awaited review by the Law Commission has been delayed. 

Meanwhile, the number of couples using surrogates has quadrupled over the past ten years.

Commercial surrogacy is banned in the UK, but surrogates can be paid reasonable expenses, which Stevie and Kiara believe has 'led to commercial surrogacy under the table'. 

Stevie, who works in the justice system, says: 'It would be more transparent to allow commercial surrogacy because, as it stands, there are no rules about what constitutes reasonable expense. We came to feel we were cash cows.

'Our surrogate alerted us to a chipped windscreen on her car, and we paid for a replacement tyre. 

'She charged us £1 for an envelope to send a scan picture and refused to post it until the money was in her account. 

'It all got incredibly petty, but when we asked for documentation for expenses over the agreed figure, she cut contact.

'We discovered surrogates advise each other about how to push their expenses up. 

'One couple even paid for a gardener to mow their sur­rogate's lawn – then learned she had no grass. 

'Surrogates even discuss charging for slimming club memberships, spa treatments, even car valeting after vomiting in the car because of morning sickness.

'This is not about money – we paid our surrogate expenses of about £15,000 but we'd have paid much more from the off if the pro­cess had been fair. 

'Our point is that we felt held to ransom.

'There are wonderful surrogates but the system is also allowing ­others to take advantage.'

See rest of article

[lizzy019]

Could u write a blurb where the reader is freaking out because she found out she's pregnant and she's having a whole ass break down, could this be a Dally x reader please?

I had to go with a modern AU for this because pregnancy tests back in the 60s were so unreliable 😭 I'm also in Canada and they allow abortions so that's involved here. Dally is still 17 here, and so is reader.

~~~~~~~~ 🖤-> ~~~~~~~~~~~🌿~~~~~~~~~~~ 💚! ~~~~~~~~~

"Dallas!" You cried out, hurrying to search for him.

You'd found him lounging on the sofa in your house, and you were trembling with the little piece of plastic in your hand. Two red lines, one vibrant and the other dim.

Dally sat up almost instantly at the sheer desperation in your tone, and his eyebrows furrowed in a tight expression of worry as he saw you. Tears staining your pink cheeks, your face contorted into a look of coarse fear.

"Sweetheart? What is it, baby?" He asked softly, putting his hands under yours and scanning what laid in your fingers.

His brown eyes seemed to widen when he saw it, and he snatched the pregnancy test from your hands to inspect it further. Two lines. Those two intimidating lines that had the normally calm and passive-aggressive teenager to shudder in bewilderment.

Were you really pregnant? Maybe it was a faulty test?

No, that guilty look in your watery eyes said it all. You knew it, and you were trying so desperately to hold onto whatever emotion was slipping through your fingers. He couldn't help but admire your strength while you dealt with this new, earth-shattering situation.

Dally couldn't muster up much to say, his eyes wandering helplessly into yours as he used what bit of courage he had left to make you somewhat comfortable. He pulled you to the sofa and sat you down, offering you tissues which you took gratefully.

How would you solve this now?

"Dal- Dal, I dunno what to do... I thought we used protection an' I- I'm not ready for this." You sniffled, stuttering involuntarily from your ragged breathing as you tried to string a coherent sentence together.

Dally understood your worry. Hell, he was feeling it himself. But he knew what would happen if you were to let the child develop in your womb. Things would slow down for the worse, and pregnancy wasn't exactly good when you were in a poor neighbourhood.

But he tried to assure you, his hand rubbing soft, clockwise circles on your upper back as his other hand twitched as he held his cigarette.

"Sweetheart, I... I think we're gonna have to abort it. It's our only other option, and it's better for us. The child hasn't fully developed yet, this is the best time to do it." He hummed softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

It did wonders on your stress, the soft rubbing to your back and the little gestures of affection.

"But we'd be killing an innocent baby, Dal!" You exclaimed, your voice strained from tension.

He sighed, taking a soft drag of his cigarette and looking at you with a gentle expression. One that looked at you like the goddess you were, the woman that tended to the stains on his heart as if it were your own. Dally couldn't possibly be mad at you for having such confliction over this unexplored topic.

"I know, baby, I know. But think for a secon'. The baby won't live a good life with us anyway, we're rebels, we're dangerous. They won't live a good life with us, we're greasers, sweetheart. That child will be two years old and learnin' how to swear like a sailor, is that what you want?" He lifted his cigarette as a gesture to back up his words.

In all honesty, he had a real good point. You couldn't possibly let a child into the world when you all were already struggling financially, and you two were only teenagers!

So with a shaky sigh and a dab of your tissue to your cheeks, you nodded reluctantly.

"I hate how you can be so stupid and so smart at the same time." You chuckled a bit, resting your head lazily on his shoulder as you took your time to compose yourself.

Dally chuckled a bit too, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and rubbing your back more affectionately.

"You love me, sweetheart. You can't deny it." He responded cheekily, listening to you giggle a bit and it made his heart sing.

At least you were a bit happier now.

"Alright, no need to get cocky. I'll go see if I can book a spot at the doctor's to see if I'm legible for an abortion." You sniffled one last time, your tears ceasing their downpour as you pressed a kiss to Dally's cheek.

He was glad, to say the least.

But still, he had to catch a glimpse of your ass as you walked before he jumped up and followed behind you... only to deliver a swift slap to your ass followed by a laugh.

[whatswrongwithblue]

The Fire in the Sin

Chapter 2 - Reflections

Word count: 2,600. Read on AO3. Series Masterlist. <- Previous Chapter

Chapter summary: The story of Mina's (Alastor's wife) life and death. Trigger Warnings: Canon typical violence, canon typical language, suicidal ideation, religious trauma if you squint, forced marriage, mention of abortion, mentions of dubcon, terminal illness, drug use, domestic violence, murder.

Series Summary:

In the 1950's, Alastor met the woman he would eventually marry but unfortunately his Radio Demon persona went for her soul rather than her hand. He has to learn what it means to love, and cherish, without possessing and he does. Their relationship is beautiful, strong, unbreakable . . . but he carries a dark secret through their marriage for decades until eventually he has to face the consequences of that secret and leave her, without warning, for seven years. He returns, finding her at the Hazbin Hotel, and has to convince her to forgive him, while being literally bound to secrecy, unable to tell her any of things he now is desperate to explain to her.

(This is a duel timeline fic, timestamps will be a the top of every chapter.)

Chapter 2 - Reflections

October 4th, 1917

California coastline, near Sonoma

Mina Gallagher looked out at the Pacific Ocean and wished she was dead.

Fantasized about it, more like.

Growing up in Ireland had given her a enduring love of the ocean. She was in awe of its power; how it could go from calm as a child’s rocking crib to an omnipotent force capable of ripping sea cliffs apart in a matter of hours. Her small, weak body craved that kind of strength, and she would slip her shoes off to stand in the shallow, icy waves, praying to it as devotedly as her parents prayed in mass every Sunday.

As a teenager, she would run away to the shoreline any chance she could and let the ocean be the only witness to her desperate tears. She had thought about swimming out into it then, letting a rip tide carry her away to freedom . . . and certain death. Same thing, really. But she hadn’t the courage then.

When she was married off at 16, she stood through the whole long torturous ceremony, daydreaming not of a groom as most girls did, but of stowing away on a ship and fleeing to America.

A year later, with her husband in pieces in his coffin and her dead baby not yet dispelled from her womb, she got that wish granted. Only she had been no stow away; she had been a proper passenger, with her fare paid for by her new manager.

Her voice, and her body, were his for the time being. They often snuck out on deck late at night and he would fuck her from behind, thinking she enjoyed the thrill of potentially being caught as much as he did, but in reality, it was so she could watch the waves ahead of them and ignore the man grunting from behind her.

Men were such pigs, but they were easy to manipulate. He had thought he was using her, but it was the other way around.

It took her a couple more years to be free of him but eventually she was able to dispose of him. Not as violently satisfying as she had dealt with her husband but with a poison that she was able to frame his assistant for.

There were many downsides to being a woman born around the turn of the 20th century but getting away with murder was one of the rare benefits. No men were comfortable admitting that a quaint little five foot nothing girl was capable of causing them harm, let alone hacking them to bits or slipping arsenic into their drink, so she was never the prime suspect in either of those cases.

The Irish Siren was the nickname the Americans had given her and they loved her scandalous life story and the lyrics that were inspired by it in a way that her conservative Catholic homeland could never.

If she had lived to see the roaring twenties, she really could have come into her own.

Mina coughed into her napkin and it came back bloody.

She had been able to make a living touring the nation, completely reliant on her “God given” talent to sing until the age of 24. Not long after that birthday, the coughing started. By the year’s end, it was clear her singing career was over. She was the Irish Siren no more.

The Atlantic ocean had always felt like home to her, so she had stayed on the east coast for as long as she could. Back home in Ireland, the Atlantic was mercurial and always in motion but here in America, she saw its other face. This Atlantic was calmer, steadier, and more reliable. The fair weather, high humidity, and low elevation of the Carolinas were supposed to be good for those suffering from consumption and she was able to continue making a decent living as a poet. She couldn’t sing anymore but she could still write, though she kept her favorite, darkest pieces to herself.

Eventually the itch to travel one last time consumed her thoughts, a stronger acting force than the disease consuming her body, and she saved up enough money to cross the country by train and buy a house on the west coast. She had always meant to see the Great American West and now that her time was growing short, it was now or never.

The Pacific Ocean was so much more than she expected. Here on the coast it was often overcast and rainy, and tricked her mind into being nostalgic for her lost childhood home. She had loved Ireland’s landscapes, enough to almost make her forget how much she had hated her life there.

It was so big, this new ocean. She purchased a globe so that even in the evenings when it grew too dark to see the water, she could still admire the sheer dominating size of the thing. There could be so many secrets hidden beneath its depths. Lost civilizations or ancient Eldritch style monsters long forgotten by the modern world.

If she had worshipped the Atlantic Ocean, she had well and truly fallen in love with the Pacific.

Mina stared out her window, watching the rain, and accepted she would have to wait for another day.

Her plan was to row out on the next sunny, calm morning, get out as far away from the shore as the tide and her sickly body could take her, swallow the rest of the laudanum, slit her wrists, and jump in the water. Let the ocean and its creatures, depths, and secrets have her body. It was better than a casket and a last devotional ceremony to a God she had turned her back on long ago.

She coughed again, and the wracking overcame her frail form, forcing her to sit down and double over. Afterwards, she breathed in as deep as she could, but it was painful and hardly satisfying to her oxygen starved body.

That perfect day had to be very soon or she wasn’t going to live to see it.

From what seemed like a distance, she heard a knocking, and realized it had been going on for a while but she was so lost in her laudanum she hadn’t noticed.

It was probably just her one and only neighbor, a bizarre middle-aged man with more money than wits, and a rather strange collection of exotic animals that tended to get loose. He came over more often than her physician, asking if she had seen any of his escaped creatures. The conversation always turned into a proper visit, and she didn’t have the energy or the patience for his strangeness today. So she ignored the knocking and continued in her reverie. Maybe the would-be visitor would assume she had finally died and would leave her in peace.

She laughed out loud at that thought and triggered another coughing fit.

The world turned glossy again and several minutes to several hours could have gone by as she watched the ocean waves in her drug induced stupor until a voice from behind her lifted her from the fog.

“Hello, Mina.”

She turned in her seat to face the man in her doorway, unsure of who he was at first. After a heartbeat, her mind registered the face.

“Johnathan,” she said, acknowledging him as if she had any idea of why he was standing in her living room like he had every right to be there.

She thought she had done away with him for good. In no uncertain terms she had made it clear to him that unless she wanted to continue being dissatisfied in the bedroom, there was no point in him staying in California for her. She was too sickly to perform any kind of proper wifely duties for him, too barren to give him any more heirs and frankly he had enough of them already, and she was clearly dying soon anyway. The only reason he had to continue to propose to her was for her money, and she had told him frankly she wasn’t stupid enough to leave her fortune to a man such as himself. That had gotten her slapped and though she hadn’t been physically well enough to fight back, she had born the shiner proudly in the mirror for a couple weeks. At least she had been left in peace because he had stormed out of her house after that argument and not returned. She had hoped either the war or the pandemic would kill him, or that she would be dead herself before he had the opportunity to bother her again.

“More prospecting business dragged you back to town, eh love? Come to try and marry a corpse while you’re at it?”

“You were always such a cold-hearted bitch,” he said, and she noticed he was slurring his words even more than she was. “I’m surprised there’s enough heat in you to keep that cunt warmed up.”

She had her faculties about her enough to know to stand up and begin putting distance and furniture between him and her. He had never spoken to her that way before, not even when he had hit her.

Johnathan was always a short-tempered little shit with those he deemed beneath him but he had been well mannered with her up until his last visit. She was lonely and often drunk or drugged since her diagnosis and had allowed herself to be entertained by him now and then.  But she was realizing too late that she had become arrogant and careless around men in the last couple years of her life and forgotten how dangerous an animal they could be when they didn’t get their way.

And Johnathan looked like he regretted not giving her more than a hard slap all those months ago.

Mina ran, as fast and hard as her tired muscles could carry her, and made it all the way into her rarely used kitchen before he was able to catch up. Not that she had any plan or real means of escape.

But she did have knives.

She was able to grab one out of a drawer but then he was on her, slamming her face into the edge of the counter and she dropped to the floor.

Somehow she managed to roll onto her back and face him, all without dropping the knife. But he saw it and was able to grab her arm before she could drive her weapon into him.

Her arms were as weak as everything else in her body but her grip was still strong enough so that he couldn’t pry her fingers off from the around the hilt, at least not while also trying to hold her legs down as she desperately tried to kick at him.

Johnathan gave up his attempt at removing the knife from her hand and instead turned her wrist so that the deadly point was now facing her stomach.

“Stupid bitch,” he hissed out when she got a good hard kick into his shin. “I don’t want to kill you, stop fighting!”

Oh, he just wants to beat and rape me, how considerate, she thought.

Her face was bleeding badly from where it had made contact with the countertop and she tasted her own blood. Johnathan had strength, size, and health on his side of this battle but she had something he likely hadn’t considered.

She had already come to terms with her death. And she was really, truly, quite insane.

Mina stopped trying to hold him away from her and let the knife plunge into her abdomen. It hurt, but there was little wind to knock out of her lungs anymore and she had so many painkillers in her blood at this point, so she hardly felt more than a deep pressure.

Johnathan’s face was brought suddenly closer to her as he wasn’t expecting the sudden stop in resistance against him so she closed the gap between them by sitting up just a couple inches and bit hard into his cheek.

She clenched her jaw down as tightly as she could and felt the flesh tear and a new taste of blood spurted across her tongue.

He screamed and she laughed.

Mina let go as he pulled away suddenly, clasping a hand over his face and still screaming. She wasted no time in yanking the knife from her own stomach and swinging it up and then down again, burying the blade to the hilt in his neck.

It made a squelching noise as it sank in and Johnathan’s screams were replaced with a wheezing expulsion of air.

She brought the knife out and then right back into his chest.

He fell backward and she stabbed again.

And again.

She didn’t stop until the fatigue in her arms made her stop.

Mina struggled to her feet, using the kitchen counter to pull herself up, and looked down at the body of the man she had just slaughtered with her bare hands. He had not been her first victim. Not even her second. And her only solid thought was it was too bad she couldn’t have done that more often, to more men.

She was so out of breath and getting really, really tired now.

Looking down at herself, she realized most of the blood pouring down her dress was her own and remembered she had been stabbed.

Right. Today would be the day after all.

She stumbled through her house and out the back door.

The rain hadn’t stopped but it was alright because she really couldn’t feel the cold.

Just make it to the water. That’s all I want, to feel it one more time.

But it was so far away.

Her house sat a good 200 yards from shore and she was barely off her back porch before vertigo caused her to stumble to the side. It took almost all her remaining energy reserves to get back up and when she did, her vision was so blurry and her head was spinning to the point that she nearly vomited.

She looked down at the hand that was pressed to her bleeding abdomen, trying to will herself to walk the rest of the way down to the water. It was no good. She was surely going to pass out any second now. If she hadn’t been so out of her mind from lack of blood and opium, she likely would have cried.

When she looked back up, she saw the strangest thing.

A panther was crouched, maybe just ten feet from her, still as a statue and looking right at her. Its coat was shiny and mostly black, but light enough in some places that a dark golden-brown pattern of wide spots could be made out along its sides.

Maybe the knocking had been her strange neighbor after all, at least at first. Come to tell her he was missing a member of his collection and to not venture too far out from her house today.

The panther’s irises were green, with gold around the edges, and her poet’s mind declared it the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen.

But it doesn’t have a panther’s face, she thought, that’s the face of death.

It leapt for her then and she simply sat down. When it landed, she had a moment to feel its weight push her back into the sand beneath her.

She kept her eyes open as its teeth found her neck but she was already too far gone to feel any more pain.

Next Chapter ->

[violetlunette]

Right, so I’m going to say something that will probably get me some flack but—I think Heinry’s worse than Rashta.

Notes:

*Anti-Heinry

*Slight defense—very slight—of Rashta

*Anti-Ergi

TRIGGER WARNING:

*Mentions of rape

Don’t misunderstand; Rashta’s actions are far worse, and she wrecked a lot of people’s lives. While I sympathize with her, I will never deny that she earned her villain status. However, all her actions were done out of desperation and ignorance.

At the start, Rasta had no idea what her presence would mean to Navier. She just thought the Emperor brought her into the family and that they would share him. And how would she? She was a slave isolated from the world and abused in every way by her owners. (And yet are portrayed as more sympathetic than her, but I digress.) On top of that, in their country, it wasn't uncommon for a kind to take a mistress. How would Rashta have known she was basically a homewrecker?

And then, it was only when others began manipulating her and Navier's brother tried to abort her child, that Rashta purposely lashed out at others to protect herself.

As the story went on, she was abused mentally and emotionally by everyone around her and gaslighted. She only believed one person was on her side, but he was the one behind all her pain and more. (Fuck you Ergi! I hope he gets stabbed with a yeevil fork and tossed out with the rest of the shit.)

I’m not saying she shouldn’t have been accountable, as she should have and was. And Navier's attitude towards her was justified. 

However, Heinry pulled a lot of shit as well, but unlike Rashta, he not only didn’t need to, but he knew better.

The western kingdom was not under threat from the Eastern empire, nor was his kingdom in need of anything. Heinry was just greedy. He was even going to take Navier as a political prisoner to make her fall in love with him through Stockholm. The only reason he didn’t is because of the divorce and Navier proposing marriage to him.

Then there’s his actions towards Krista. 

While not an innocent bird, I don’t think she crossed a moral line that earned her final fate. If I recall right, the worst she did was let a rumor spread. She didn’t even try to take advantage of Heinry when he was under the love potion and passed out on her lap. Yet, he forced her into suicide and had her remaining family spit on her memory. (Good job looking after your brother’s widowed wife, bird shit.)

And when you think about it, Heinry’s partly responsible for everything Rashta has done as he manipulated her through Ergi. Don’t get me wrong, Ergi’s actions are his own, but Heinry is the one who gave him the orders and helped. True, the former would have done what he did without the latter, but Heinry was the one to put him in the position to do so.

And on top of he spent a decade participating in rape by tricking girls into sleeping with him. (What they did is called buddy swap. Look it up yourself for details.)

And again, unlike Rashta, Heinry, a royal Prince raised with a royal education and more, knew better. He knew his actions were harmful and selfish but did it anyway for greed. And, again, there was no need for his actions. The Western kingdom was flourishing and under no threat from any other nation. They were said to be equal in power to the Empire, they just didn't have the name for--reasons.

Heinry wasn’t in a desperate situation where he was worried he would lose everything if he didn’t act, unlike Rashta. Worse, being a man of the world and not a slave, Heinry was well aware of the ramifications of his choices and that people would be hurt. Yet, despite all he did and unlike Rashta, he was never held accountable for anything. Why? Because he's the male lead, who's close to Navier. They get away with everything.

To sum it all up;

While Rashta's crimes were arguably worse, they were done out of ignorance, manipulation of several parties, and desperation. She had no idea what else to do other than what she did, and her choices were limited due to her gender, status, and knowledge.

Heinry’s actions were out of selfishness, greed, and of his own free will. No one pushed him to do anything, he CHOSE to even though he didn’t have to and had several options before him. Had he stayed his hand, he wouldn’t have lost anything. And again, through Ergi, he manipulated Rashta, so Heinrey has a hand in her crimes, as well.

He had choices and several options, and he chose the ones that hurt others. Yet was never held accountable for any of it and was even rewarded for being a terrible person. 

And that’s why I find him worse than Rashta.

[jortschronicles]

Hey sexy, you baptized?

By Áshildr Inn Hárfagri, 2024

Presented at Kingdom Arts & Sciences

The History of Tam Lin

Tam Lin is the 39th of the Child Ballads, a collection of ballads first published by Francis James Child in 1882 with the volume containing Tam Lin and its variants published in Volume I Part II in 1884. The earliest mention of this ballad is in 1549 in Vedderburn’s Complaint of Scotland, where "The Tayl of the Ȝong Tamlene" ('The Tale of the Young Tamelene') is “spoken of as told among a company of shepherds.”[1] A dance named “Thom of Lyn” is mentioned at the same party. “A ballett of Thomalyn” was licensed in 1558. 

Child notes a diverse family tree of this story. A Scottish ballad, which he does not name, regards a farmer desperate to save his wife from the fairy court. He was told to wait for the procession of the fairies on Halloween, but “at the ringing of the fairy bridles…his heart failed him,” and he did not manage to rescue his wife from the fairy. A Danish ballad from 1721 regards a maiden transformed into a nightingale by an angry stepmother and the solution to her curse is a knight containing her in a bower as she turns into “all the marvelous beasts one ever heard of…a lion, a bear, a variety of small snakes, and at last to a loathsome lind-worm.” A Cretan fairy tale recorded in 1820 mirrors the tale of Thetis and Peleus, in which an old mentor instructs a protege to “lay hands on the nereid and keep his hold through whatever metamorphosis she might make.” His final point of reference is the 12th century medieval romance Lanzelet by Ulrich von Zatzikhoven, in which the titular character cannot turn a serpent back into a woman merely by kissing her, but by also bathing her in a spring. This introduces “immersion in a liquid” as a “process requisite for passing from a non-human shape, produced by enchantment, back into human.”

As Child says, “Whether it has come down to our time from mouth to mouth through twenty-five centuries or more, or whether, having died out of the popular memory, it was reintroduced through literature, is a question that cannot be decided with certainty; but there will be nothing unlikely in the former supposition to those who bear in mind the tenacity of tradition among people who have never known books.”

What is it about?

Tam Lin opens with a warning that all maidens who go to the woods of Carterhaugh will be met by the titular character and be required to pay him something–most often, their maidenhead. Our heroine known sometimes as Janet and sometimes as Margaret, hearing this, drops what she’s doing (in some cases literally dropping her sewing in her haste) to run to Carterhaugh as fast as she can go. As she pulls a mysterious double rose, Tam Lin appears and asks her to stop. She insists he is not the owner of Carterhaugh and she can do as she pleases, and notably does not offer him any form of material tribute. Therefore, his collected toll is her maidenhead, all according to her apparent plan.[2]

Janet returns to her father’s hall visibly pregnant enough to worry an elderly knight, who’s concerned all the knights will be blamed for her condition. Her father notices her pregnancy, and she admits she’s in love with an elfin knight and that she wouldn’t give him up for any of the gentlemen of her father’s court. Apparently deciding, though, that being a single mother to a half-fae child isn’t an exciting prospect, she runs back to Carterhaugh to pluck double rose to use to abort her pregnancy. Tam Lin confronts her, and asks why she wants to end the pregnancy. She asks if he was ever even human, and Tam Lin relates his tale. 

When Tam Lin was young he went hunting with his grandfather and fell from his horse. The Fairy Queen caught him and trapped him forever in Carterhaugh as part of her retinue. It isn’t that bad of a gig, but every seven years on Halloween the Fairy Queen pays a tithe to hell, and Tam Lin worries that he’s the next payment. He explains a plan to Janet to free him from the fairies, which will consist of stealing him from a procession of riders on horseback and holding him while he is changed into a variety of fearsome creatures. He’ll then be turned into a red hot iron in hopes of forcing her to drop him, then a red hot coal, at which point she needs to throw him into a well and he will emerge human once more. At this point, he will be able to join Janet and be a father to the child. 

The successful execution of the plan infuriates the Fairy Queen who hates whoever took away the handsomest member of her company and curses the thief. She declares if she knew what would happen she would have taken away his eyes, which can see the fairies when they are invisible, and replace them with wood, taking away his fairy-sight and mundane sight alike.

Tam Lin is about a young noblewoman who decides what she wants and seeks it out herself at every opportunity and does not allow anybody to decide her fate for her. It is a fascinating tale that has been adapted again and again through the centuries across genres and mediums. The most well known modern adaptation of Tam Lin, though adaptation is a strong word for a loosely-inspired work, is A Court of Thorns and Roses. 

Performance notes

This selection of verses has been largely pulled from Child Ballad 39A, as one of the more narratively complete versions, with additions from 39I and some adjustments from the period language to better scan to an audience speaking modern English. As a performer, I believe the period thing to do is perform in a way my audience can understand the story and therefore value the comprehension more than the archaic language. These ballads were long performances, frequently series of performances, for the entertainment of groups of people in a world before the radio drama. Where these adjustments and additions are made, they are noted with footnotes. 

I have not yet found notation indicating a period or near-period tune for this piece. However, the tune commonly associated (and performed here) with this piece seems to fairly match “the vibe” of the extant ballad tunes we do have. The reconstruction of period melodies is not my primary area of interest or study, but modern listeners should note differences between the songs with which we are familiar today and this piece. For instance, there is no verse/chorus verse/chorus bridge chorus structure as we are used to. Every verse is a verse and has approximately the same tune. The song does not always explicitly indicate who is speaking. The song frequently makes use of parallel structure and repetition (see verses 29-32). Unlike many modern songs, this does not seem to be written to showcase a wide vocal range or particular talent, but to simply provide a tune to aid the memory of the storyteller, the storytelling itself, and potentially a sick beat to dance to.

As is the case in many (but not all) of the Child Ballads, the subject matter is sensitive but is skirted with a “fade to black” which is not present in all versions but has been maintained for the listener’s discretion.

Tam Lin – Child Ballad 39

As Communicated by Áshildr Inn Hárfagri

O I forbid you, maidens a', That wear gowd on your hair, To come or gae by Carterhaugh, For young Tam Lin is there.

There's nane that gaes by Carterhaugh But they leave him a pledge,[3] Either their rings, or mantles green,[4] Or else their maidenhead.

Janet tied her kirtle green, A little aboon her knee, And she has gaen for Carterhaugh,[5] As fast as she can hie,[6,7]

She had na pu'd a double rose, A rose but only twa, Till upon then started young Tam Lin, Says, Lady, thou's pu nae mae.

Why pu's thou the rose, Janet, And why breaks thou the wand? Or why comes thou to Carterhaugh Withoutten my command?

"Carterhaugh, it is my own, My daddy gave it me, I'll come and gang by Carterhaugh, And ask nae leave at thee."

He’s aen her by the milk-white hand, Among the leaves sae green, And what they did I cannot tell, The green leaves were between

He’s taen her by the milk white hand, Among the roses red, And what they did I cannot say, She neer returnd a maid,[8,9]

Four and twenty ladies fair Were playing at the ba, And out then came the fair Janet, The flower among them a'.

Four and twenty ladies fair Were playing at the chess, And out then came the fair Janet, As green as onie glass.

Out then spake an auld grey knight, Lay oer the castle wa, And says, Alas, fair Janet, for thee, But we'll be blaméd a'.[10]

"Haud your tongue, ye auld fac'd knight, Some ill death may ye die! Father my bairn on whom I will, I'll father none on thee."

Out then spak her father dear, And he spak meek and mild, "And ever alas, sweet Janet," he says, "I think thou gaest wi child."

Oh father if I go with child,[11] Mysel maun bear the blame, There's neer a laird about your ha, Shall give the babe his name[12]

"If my love were an earthly knight, As he's an elfin grey, I wad na gie my ain true-love For nae lord that ye hae.[13]

Janet tied her kirtle green, A little aboon her knee, And she has gaen for Carterhaugh,[14] As fast as she can hie,[15,16]

She had na pu'd a double rose, A rose but only twa, Till up then started young Tam Lin, Says, Lady, thou pu's nae mae.

"Why pu's thou the rose, Janet, Amang the groves sae green, And a' to kill the bonny babe That we gat us between?"

"O tell me, tell me, Tam Lin," she says, "For's sake that died on tree, If eer ye was in holy chapel, Or christendom did see?"

"Roxbrugh he was my grandfather, Took me with him to bide And ance it fell upon a day That wae did me betide.

"And ance it fell upon a day A cauld day and a snell, When we were frae the hunting come, That frae my horse I fell, The Queen o' Fairies she caught me, In yon green hill do dwell.

"And pleasant is the fairy land, But, an eerie tale to tell, Ay at the end of seven years, We pay a tiend to hell, I am sae fair and fu o flesh, I'm feard it be mysel.

"But the night is Halloween, lady, The morn is Hallowday, Then win me, win me, an ye will, For weel I wat ye may.

"Just at the mirk and midnight hour The fairy folk will ride, And they that wad their true-love win, At Miles Cross they maun bide."

"But how shall I thee ken, Tam Lin, Or how my true-love know, Amang sa mony unco knights, The like I never saw?"

"O first let pass the black, lady, And syne let pass the brown, But quickly run to the milk-white steed, Pu ye his rider down.

"For I'll ride on the milk-white steed, And ay nearest the town, Because I was an earthly knight They gie me that renown.

"My right hand will be gloved, lady, My left hand will be bare And thae's the takens I gie thee, Nae doubt I will be there.[17]

"They'll turn me in your arms, lady, Into an esk and adder, But hold me fast, and fear me not, I am your bairn's father.

"They'll turn me to a bear sae grim, And then a lion bold, But hold me fast, and fear me not, And ye shall love your child.

"Again they'll turn me in your arms To a red het gand of airn, But hold me fast, and fear me not, I'll do to you nae harm.

"And last they'll turn me in your arms Into the burning gleed,[18] Then throw me into well water, O throw me in with speed.

"And then I'll be your ain true-love, I'll turn a naked knight, Then cover me wi your green mantle, And hide me out o sight."

Gloomy, gloomy was the night, And eerie was the way, As fair Jenny in her green mantle To Miles Cross she did gae.

At the mirk and midnight hour She heard the bridles sing, She was as glad at that As any earthly thing.

First she let the black pass by, And syne she let the brown, But quickly she ran to the milk-white steed, And pu'd the rider down.

Sae weel she minded what he did say, And young Tam Lin did win, Syne covered him wi her green mantle, As blythe's a bird in spring

Out then spak the Queen o Fairies, Out of a bush o broom, "Them that has gotten young Tam Lin Has gotten a stately-groom."

Out then spak the Queen o Fairies, And an angry woman was she, "Shame betide her ill-far'd face, And an ill death may she die, For she's taen awa the bonniest knight In a' my companie.

"But had I kend, Tam Lin," said she, "What now this night I see, I wad hae taen out thy twa grey een, And put in twa een o tree."[19]

FOOTNOTES

[1] All quotes from The English and Scottish Popular Ballads, Vol I by Francis James Child [2]  We stan a girls’ girl who knows what she wants. Happy Hot Girl Summer. [3] 39A.2 - originally “but they leave him a wad,” changed for modern rhyme schemes [4] 39A.2 - originally “either their rings, or green mantles” changed for modern rhyme schemes [5] Chorus line drawn form 39B.3 [6] 39A.3 - originally a 6 line chorus changed for modern rhyme scheme and understandability. “Janet has kilted her green kirtle / A little aboon her knee, / And she has broded her yellow hair / A little aboon her bree, / And she's awa to Carterhaugh / As fast as she can hie.” [7]  39A.4 - verse skipped for time [8] 39I.10 and 39I.11 better provide context on why Janet went to Carterhaugh [9] 39A.8 - verse skipped for time [10] Accent added to “blamed” to better scan in modern prosody [11] 39A.14 originally "If that I gae wi child, father,” to better scan in modern prosody [12] 39A.14 originally “Shall get the bairn's name.” changed for modern understandability [13] 39A.16 - verse skipped for time [14] Chorus line drawn form 39B.3 [15]  Refer to verse 3 [16] 39A.18 - verse skipped for time [17] 39A.30 exchanged for 39B.28 [18] Gleed” is a word for hot coal [19] “Mortals whose eyes have been touched with fairies’ salve can see them when they are to others invisible” (Child)

[kurov1864]

Opinions on Milgram characters

I've actually been wanting to do this for some time now lmao. Btw this is just my interpretation of each character, followed by my opinion on said interpretation. Feel free to disagree, I love to discuss with other people. (also cross-posted on Reddit)

Haruka: Okay so what I think happened for him is that he very obviously has a developmental disorder of some sort. I'm not sure exactly what, and I don't really wanna speculate because I'm not an expert. So he, as a child, was neglected by his mom and didn't receive enough attention. This led him to become extremely attached to his childhood best friend, which didn't really affect anything when they were both children. But then, she grew up, yet he didn't. She started to act more maturely, and he didn't. They grew apart, and Haruka couldn't understand why. Or maybe he did, and blamed himself. Anyways. Yada yada, he tried getting attention from his mom by killing animals, he did get attention (the wrong kind), kinda went off and killed his ex bestie as well, either out of frustration or for literally more attention.

Now, my general opinion of him? Neutral. I don't love or hate him. Maybe a very mild dislike, but that's only because I find it kinda disturbing how he calls Muu his mom.

Yuno: Abortion. I like Yuno. Not because of the whole "omg girlboss slayyyy you have total control over your body yas queen" thing, because honestly yall have got to stop saying stuff like that. I like her because she wants to be recognized as a "mature adult" who can actually take responsibility for her actions, instead of being degraded into this poor innocent girl who knows what the shit is. She's so impartial to everyone, even herself, yet she knows and acknowledges the fact that she's still human who has emotions and empathy, which is why she sometimes tries to help out. Yet, she doesn't deny the fact that she seeks interesting and new things, leaving behind others when most would feel guilty. 10/10, relatable character.

Fuuta: HATE. He is so... thoughtless?? I absolutely hate people who gets so caught up in their cause that they literally cannot see anything else. They don't stop to think, "oh, maybe what I'm doing is wrong? Maybe there is a better way to go about this?". Now, to be fair, I don't know much about Fuuta. So please, feel free to disagree with me about him, but I cannot stand the way he didn't stop to think that maybe cancelling others would push them to suicide. That just shows his naivety. I acknowledge that his passion is admirable (passion for what I'm still thinking about), but passion without the knowledge to help is just being a stubborn idiot. His impulsiveness is also another very strong ick of mine.

Muu: I don't have much of an opinion on her character, but I do enjoy the concept that she represents. My personal theory is that she represents how somebody can be both a victim and a bully at the same time. She is at her very core, human, but without all those polite manners and social skills drilled into her. She turns pitiful and desperate when disadvantaged, but turns cocky, arrogant and confident when she has power. She is so, undeniably, human. And yet she can also be kind at times. She has such a f-ked up perception of everything, so maybe yall didn't catch it, but she's still trying to be nice in her own warped way.

Shidou: Eh. He's like, okay?? Not gonna comment on his crime because I don't feel anything towards it. But his attitude is sort of annoying. The way that he clings to his role as a doctor in prison after trying to forsake his life, the way he keeps trying to bring up age with Es (yes I know age is a valid point but bringing that up just makes it seem as if you're looking down on Es only because of their age. it's degrading), all that stuff just kinda gets on my nerves a bit. I appreciate what he's doing for the prison,,, but I don't really like him.

Mahiru: Love her. I love the way she tries to stand up for her ideals, no matter how much society + Es tells her it's wrong. She's been hurt so much yet she's still so optimistic, bright and hopeful about love. I love her. Granted, it may be because I also have fucked up views of love like her which is why I gave her such a high rating compared to like, Fuuta.

Kazui: Neutral. I would have wanted to scream at him about just,,, not telling lies, but I can acknowledge how hard it is for some people to not care about their image, especially if they grew up in a traditional household.

Amane: A bit positive and negative at the same time. I dunno, I just kinda like the way that she found a way to adapt to her horrible circumstances. Although that way is by weaponizing her religion to protect herself, but yeah. Unhealthy circumstances calls for unhealthy coping methods. What I dislike is how she doesn't even want to give other thoughts a try. Like she won't stop and think about other options, not even for a little bit. But then again, it's literally been drilled into her since childhood to not betray that religion, so I guess that makes my point invalid.

Mikoto: Why, why is he so popular?? What?? I'm so confused. Honestly I just think he's neutral. Just like, oh look, another victim of the toxic work environment who found a terrible way to cope. I don't have any feelings about John either, although I do admire his dedication to Mikoto. He's just so,,, uninteresting?? Someone please tell me why he is so popular, because I gen want to try to understand and see his appeal.

Kotoko: My wife. I'll try not to let bias get in the way of this one.

Okay I'm gonna be so fr rn I absolutely detested her at first. She's like Fuuta,,, but so much worse. She takes her ideals to the absolute extreme, pushes down all guilts and feelings about others to carry out her "justice". She's so unwilling to admit that she likes the feeling of beating bad guys up, the moral high ground it gives her. She's not only hurting other people, but also herself. Mf thinks she's in an edgy movie where she's the anti-hero who goes against the government and is constantly misunderstood, like girlie stop. Stop and THINK about what you are doing, see the death, destruction and harm you've brought about not just to others but also yourself?? Goddamn.

I'm not even sure why I like her LMFAO. All my opinions about her is just, she's human scum who needs lots of therapy to stop hurting herself and others.

Es: Love my non-binary guard. They care so much for the prisoners, trying their absolute best to understand them while coping with their body and mind being infiltrated by us. I always feel so guilty having them bear the burden of explaining the guilty decisions to the prisoners,,, just want em to be happy and work-free. I admire their dedication to truly, truly feel for the prisoners, try to understand the entire context instead of the one on the surface. Yeah, they act immaturely, they're a 15 year old who has no memories, no clue as to where they are, clinging onto their role as a warden even if it makes them look pathetic because that's the only thing they've ever known. It's their only sense of "identity" they have that gives them power and pride.

Jackalope: HATE HATE HATE HATE GO BACK TO YOUR ROOM I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU IN TRIAL 2 END gOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO BACK TO WHICHEVER MISERABLE BASEMENT YOU CRAWLED OUT FROM AND STAY IN THERE FOR THE REST OF ETERNITY. JACKALOPE IS A FATHER AND CARES FOR ES?? I CALL BS. HE DUMPED SO MUCH WORK ON ES, ACTS SHIFTY AND MANIPULATIVE ALL THE TIME, DOESN'T EXPLAIN ANYTHING TO ES, AND YOU EXPECT ME TO LIKE HIM?????