#cw miscarriage mention

[the-kr8tor]

Sink or Swim

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Total Word Count: 16k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Hobie is mentioned taller than R, CW food mentions, CW suggestive, TW blood, CW injury, CW miscarriage mention, TW violence.

A/N: I've divided this chapter into two because of how long it is and tumblr wouldn't let me draft the post without the app crashing. So sorry for the inconvenience. I'll put the link at the end and on top.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

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CHAPTER 13 >>> CHAPTER 13 II

Hobie's throat feels like he swallowed glass. Yet, he screams until his lungs give out, until his body gives out. Fist pounding into steel, skin splitting, blood staining the metal, he continues to call for you. His ears could only hear your frantic yells, his name falling out of your lips, vomited out desperately, asking for him, calling for him to get you out.

He kicks and thrashes at the metal bars, his mind imagines the worst— nails ripped from your fingers, bones breaking, skin scraped and slashed. He doesn't need to imagine how it could feel for he had lived through it all, survived through sheer will alone. But he promised, he promised to you and in that hollow grave that it will never be filled with your body; that your own blood wouldn't spill in between his fingers.

Yet, like the knife that he is, like the one who breaks skin and bleeds everything he touches— he hurt you, shot you where you stood, when he should've protected you, shielded you from the bullet. But how could he do it when the bullet is from him? When he used the same weapon that has ended dozens of lives to protect his crew, to harm you; the only person he deems worthy of telling all his secrets, you, who is worth more than every single treasure in the world.

Maybe he should've listened to you and stayed on the island.

Hobie calls for you once again, in hopes that you hear him too, in hopes that his voice is enough to bring you hope. The lighthouse that guides you home. But he knows, he knows all you could hear are muffled sounds and the creaking from the rocking ship.

Your voice wavers, like you've been forcefully silenced. So he does the screaming for you. It's loud, tone furious, ready to scratch at anyone who gets closer.

“Hobie—” Gwen tries to get his attention as the door opens, revealing the two guards staying in the doorway, keeping their distance.

Guns are strapped to them, knives glinting in the lamp light, armed to the teeth. Hobie knows it's all for him.

“Shut the fuck up.” One frustratingly said, teeth clenched, hands kneading at his temples.

“Keep screaming and you won't get supper.” The bigger one utters, the large scar on his cheek tightens as Hobie taunts them with a grim smile. The smile he reserves to strike fear.

They stiffen in the doorway, shoulders straight, hands reaching for their weapons.

“Do it then.” Hobie says, voice guttural, hands gripping the bars. “End the screaming.” His sheer tone alone sends everyone's hair to stand upright.

No one in the crew dares to stop Hobie. He doesn't know if they're afraid just like the men in front of him or if they're biding their time to scratch and bite too.

“Come closer and end it.” He doesn't yell, and that terrifies the men in the doorway. “And you'll find out exactly what I did to Admiral Kinney all those years ago.” He can still taste the admiral's ichor on his tongue.

The hulking men share a look, sweat dripping off their brows. And with that, they shut the door behind them, returning to their post with their tails tucked between their legs.

“Cowards.”

If it wasn't a grim situation, James would've laughed.

Hobie hears Gwen sigh behind him, the liquid in her hand sloshes as she practically shoves it in his face.

“At least drink some water. For your throat.”

“No, ‘m not drinking that slop.”

Gwen has had enough, she takes him by the collar, eyes bravely glaring at her captain. “If you want to leave this ship and save her, then drink the slop, eat the fucking bread and keep your goddamn energy for when we get the window to escape. Screaming won't help, captain. It's not helping anyone.” Her jaw is set, eyebrows knitted together.

The rest of the crew stand on the side, ready to get between them if it gets physical. He'll never hurt Gwen, never even thought of it. But he can't stand the thought of his family standing against him rather than next to him. So he fixes it, you'd like it that way.

Hobie gingerly takes the cup, chugging it down in one gulp.

“Good, now eat some bread and sit down.”

“Y/N—” he starts.

“She'll be alright, she's a fighter ain't she?” He nods, “you know her better than us, so tell us, cap'n, that she will survive this.”

He roams his red eyes at his sparse crew. For a brief second he sees the ones he lost behind them. For the first time, he's glad he doesn't see you with them.

Returning his attention towards Gwen, he utters the words with the confidence of a captain.

“She'll survive this.”

—

Sitting down in the corner, he rests his poor throat, the dry bread didn't help much. It was shitty to say the least, times like this, he misses Finn. He'd beat him if he ever knew that he let the famous bloodsail pirates into the hands of a former admiral and you into the hands of someone you fear the most.

Hobie shuts his eyes for a second, he swears it's only for a second but when he wakes up with a start and the door opening with a creak, the moon is already shining outside the large boat.

When he sees you appear by the doorway, he thinks he's still dreaming.

“Ten,” He hears you say between gritted teeth. All he could focus on is you, checking for signs of an injury, he starts from your head—nothing, arms, also nothing, save for a few scratches. Then he settles on your bandaged leg, and he remembers what he did, what he did to you. Guilt and grief overtakes his body, he tries his best to hide into the background, into the wooden walls, to become part of the ship, to hide his shame. Because he hurt you, and he'll never forgive himself for what he did.

Hobie watches from his corner, defeated when you tell him subtly that you're alright. And when you called for him, called his name softly like summer wind breezing by, warm and reminding him of home— he couldn't help but oblige.

Who is he to deny the sky?

When you held him in your hands, he felt anew. Apologies spill from his mouth, eyes forlorn at the red spot on your bandages.

What is the tides without his moon?

He feels lighter when you forgive him. But his past action still haunts him, he knows it'll join the long line of nightmares that plague him at night.

“That's my girl.” He says truthfully and proudly, he feels your heartbeat hasten through your pulse.

You tell him your choice, your decision to give up your freedom for him and the crew. He feels like he was back on the revenge, facing Mathias, refusing to let you go as you offer yourself for their freedom.

His heart beats harder as you ask him to read your mother's letter. He's unsure why you would let someone like him read something as heavy as the letter. It's reserved for someone whose hands wouldn't stain the paper with crimson.

“Because I trust you.” You say, and everything aligns in his mind. Like Poseidon shaking him inside out, like the tides itself is splitting him open.

Hobie reads it with trembling hands and broken skin. Like he thought, it turns the paper pink like ink blots dirtying the pristine paper.

He dictates it, heart shattering at every tear you let out. Wiping your cheeks dry, he's careful not to let his split skin touch your softer ones.

“It's real, innit?” He asks like the earth isn't eating him whole.

“It's real.” You answer and the world caves in around him.

Hobie teases to feel the resemblance of normalcy, “little tomato?” He asks.

And you answer with a “I don't want them, just you.” Like you didn't just mend his shattering heart with one sentence. And you break it right after with a “We'll meet again, in this life or the next.”

He's terrified once again. He shakes his head as the door creaks open. “No, Y/N—”

As you kiss his wounded knuckles gently, you ask him something he can't possibly do.

“Don't follow me, please.”

Reaching for you, he should've read the last line in the letter to you. ‘Don't trust anyone’ it said, whatever it was, it's not your burden to carry, so he'll do it for you.

Hobie apologizes in his head for keeping it away from you and for what he's about to do.

—

With the dinner bell ringing, and heavy footsteps retreating, the crew takes their chance. The key opens the door smoothly. They sneak around the ship, only leaving shadows and footfalls that's barely audible.

Climbing up the steps towards freedom, Hobie spots a door at the end of a hallway. Like two hearts beating as one, he knows it's you behind it.

Miles takes his arm before he could come to you. “Don't.” He whispers to his captain. “Don't waste her sacrifice.”

“She didn't sacrifice herself.” Hobie shakes his head, scoffing quietly. “I can't leave her behind, Miles. I can't.”

“I know,” he pulls him away from the hallway. “she asked you to not follow, so don't follow.”

“If this was Gwen—”

“If this was Gwen we'd be doing the exact same thing. She wouldn't ask us to follow and we'll leave because she asked us to.” Miles spares a heavy glance towards your locked door. “I know it hurts, but we'd be in the gallows by morning if we don't leave now. We'll have another chance at saving her.”

“You don't know that.”

“I don't, but it's better to not know instead of being dead. At least we'd have a chance.” Miles tugs him further away. “Do you think it's better for her to think that she caused our deaths just because you took the chance?” His voice is determined.

“Don't hurt her like that, Hobie. It'll ruin her.”

With one last look towards your door, Hobie nods, following the others to the deck then to safety. As the dinghy drops down into the sea, and into the dark night, he hears Miguel curse his name.

He asks for your forgiveness silently.

—

Hobie and the crew finally make it to the docks without being seen by anyone. It was pure luck that no one saw or even heard them, he thanked the early morning and the still dark sky for lending them a hand.

“We need to wait for her.” He says, stretching his stiff hands from rowing the boat.

The sparse pirate crew hides in the shadows, hidden behind the dark alleyway. They lean on the grimy walls, hands cradling their fatigued heads, huffing and groaning at the aches and pains they had from their daring escape. They can still hear Miguel cursing Hobie's name, his voice ringing in their ears.

“Hobie,” Gwen calls for him. “Leave her be.”

“What the fuck?” Hobie turns sharply. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means we leave her alone.” Pavitr says forlornly, eyes downcast at the dirty pavement.

“We promised her—”

“That was when we didn't know it was her actual family. Back when we all thought Miguel was a threat to her.” Yuri pipes up, hands braced on her knees. Fatigued and clearly needing rest. “I love her, Hobie, I really do. We all love her, but she's with family now. Let her be.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Miles scoffs, “We're talking about the same person right?” He stands next to Hobie, arms crossed on his chest.

“C’mon, Miles,” Gwen says tiredly. “We all heard their conversation, it's real, she's noble—”

“And what of it?” Hobie snaps back. “You were too.”

“I was.” She scowls. “But she has a home to go to, a family that's waiting for her. We need to let her be until for whatever reason she decides to stay or leave with us.” Inhaling sharply, she rubs harshly at her eyes. “Let's make a compromise then. We're all clearly feeling conflicted. I don't want to fully let her go, we all agree right?”

Everyone nods, tension running high, glares thrown about the small group. Gwen continues, “Then we stay close to her, we watch her like when we used to observe potential crew members. But this time we make sure she is actually safe and not thrown to the wolves.” Her idea reminds Hobie why he chose her as his first mate.

“I'll keep first watch,” Hobie quickly says, "we switch after I say so.”

“And when will that be, Hobie?” Yuri clasps her hand on Hobie's shoulder, comforting the man. “You haven't slept a wink, add the fact that you were stranded on a bloody island for a month, you're not in the right state for this.”

“I'll be once I see that she's safe.” His voice cracks, “I didn't keep an eye on MJ and look what happened. I-I don't want that to happen again. Please let me do it. You can follow me all you want just let me keep watch—”

“It's Y/N,” James whisper yells, he peeks around the alley, watching you slowly walk down the ship.

They all clammer to see you ignore Miguel's helping hand. Pride swells in their chest, they remember now why they can't exactly leave you behind— you're family.

As if fate is pulling the strings, you crane your neck to look in their direction. The crew ducks away, but Hobie stays, staring at you, waiting for your signal, anything to indicate that you want to run away with them.

He sees your subtle shake of your head, and with that, he hides with his crew.

“Did she say something?” Pav asks, concerned for you.

“No, nothin’” He holds his heart in his hand. “She said nothin'”

—

Hobie follows you quietly throughout the day. Hiding from Miguel's watchful eyes and your sad eyes. The crew left to rest in an inn, Miles offered to come with him, Hobie's glad he did for he found an unhitched horse in a street corner. But it could only seat one so Miles, the angel that he is, let Hobie go on without him.

“I'll take care of them.” He promises before he lets his captain go.

They all know your house, they've raided their ships before. Crates upon crates full of luxury, with the same design on your necklace stamped on the wooden sides. Hobie knows them quite well, the favourite of the king, always giving them special treatment. Yet the queen holds them at an arm's length away, but she never left her eyes away from their business. He guessed sacking random ships has its perks, gossip is one of them.

Hobie silently trots his horse, eyes never leaving the carriage you just left. The cemetery sends his nerves alight, with the crows cawing in the background, he strains his ear to listen in. He's hiding behind the chapel, the irony doesn't escape him.

The truth is revealed to you, and unbeknownst to you, he has learned about it too. His head is in his hands as he listens to how broken your voice is, tone splitting at the seams. Then his heart stops when you tell your mother that you want to stay, that you want to find the person responsible for their deaths, that the same flames burning inside him now have spread to you.

Hobie doesn't want you to go down the same path he walked on, to let the embers singe your skin, to let the fire burn you from the inside out like it had with him. You helped him through his, helped him control it. Now it's his turn to do so for you.

He cares for you, loves you for all your soft touches and gentle tone. But he's prepared to love you through your jagged edges, through all the anger that's inside you. He'd love both sides of you, because it's you, and no one else.

His foot accidentally steps on a twig as he sees you leave. Hobie almost ran towards you when you looked at the source of the sound. This time he ducks away, knowing that there's eyes on you, eyes that are prepared to take you away the moment they see him. So he waits, until there's no more eyes on you.

The next time he saw you again was when you stepped out of the carriage and into the golden doors of the palace. He's terrified for what's to come, whether or not Miguel has brought you on a silver platter for the wolves to devour.

With his guns accompanying him, he readies outside the walls of the palace until you leave, until he sees you again climbing inside the carriage.

He can finally breathe again, he doesn't have to kill this time. Not yet anyway.

Hobie tries his best to stay hidden, he bribes and lies to get inside Hazelside. Then he waits, and bides his time just to talk to you.

—

“Hazelside estate,” Miguel says when the large manor looms over the horizon. “Your family has owned it for two hundred years. Passed down to every first born child of the family.”

Acres and acres of land stretch across the vast space. Primed apple trees and oaks line the road, men and women in work clothes walk near the carriage, not even craning their necks to take a peek inside. It seems this was a daily occurrence for them.

“Two hundred years.” You repeat, contemplating how many generations owned it. “So it's mine once the papers are signed? Where would my…uncle and aunt go then?” Your mind goes through a hundred scenarios where you stay and where you decide to leave it all again.

“They have their own house. Granted it's not as big as Hazelside but it's enough for them. Knowing his majesty, he'd take his sweet time from releasing the papers.”

“How well do you know the king and queen?” You ask, eyes scanning your family's land.

Stone houses are standing miles away from the main estate, employees of the house you think. Chimneys billow out smoke whilst the sun is just about to rise. You imagine them having breakfast with their families, sleep still clinging in their lashes, hot tea wrapped in their cool hands. Opening the window, the smell of fresh apples wafts over you. Home, you think. It smells like home. Or it just reminds you of the apple tarts Jessica made for you when you were younger.

“You alright?” Miguel asks, watching you frown.

“I'm fine, just tired.” You lied, in truth, you miss them all.

“You had a hectic day, I don't blame you. You'll get to rest soon, I promise.”

How could you even think of sleeping alone? After being near him? After saying goodbye?

“You didn't answer my question.” You shift your attention from the trees to the man before you. “How well do you know them?”

“I barely know the queen, but the king? Yes, short answer? He's a moron, a buffoon wearing a crown.”

Lyla snickers next to you, head plopped on the carriage wall, seemingly asleep.

You smile, “You have a monkey for a king.”

“Once you're the Hazelside duchess, he'll be your king too.”

“Christ.” You chuckle nervously.

“Don't worry, I'll help you get accustomed to polite society.” Miguel reassures you and you still have no idea if you'll stay long enough to bear the title.

“Polite society.” You say with a scoff, “What I just saw wasn't very polite.”

“Just remember, everything here is political. Everyone here is climbing the ladder, kissing the royal asses. Some are doing it for their families, some are doing it for their personal gain.”

“Which one do you think I am?”

“Neither.” The carriage stops, horses neighing, hooves stomping on the gravel. “You're not like them, Y/N, that's why you'll end up walking all over them.”

The footman opens the door, Miguel gives you a look before coming down the small steps. He reaches towards you, helping you down. You hesitate. You still don't take his hand even with your bad leg.

The wind blows cold, goosebumps appearing on your skin, face worried at the sheer size of the manor. The glinting silvered birds catch the early morning's sun's rays. Beady eyes seemingly blinking when a cloud passes by.

Vines cling to the ancient walls, small purple flowers run along the plant and along the large windows. Strong columns line the façade, laurels carved on the marble, oak doors displaying the house sigil— your necklace bearing a similarity to it. Flower beds cradling violets lay by the foot of the building, blooming and fragrant. The smell hiding your trepidation from the dozen or so people watching you with unreadable eyes.

The staff greets you with a stiff nod, they stand on the stairs leading towards the manor. Their uniforms are perfect, perfectly ironed and clean; perfect white gloves on their hands.

A couple of them help your drunk uncle off their own carriage. He groans, head swirling, eyes rolling to the back of his head. Fancy clothes sweaty and moist, neckerchief lopsided and dirtied by ale. In contrast to his wife, who looks tired with the heavy eye bags under her eyes, she still looks like a proper noble compared to Frederick.

“Freddy—” She groans, kicking her husband's leg, “get up!”

“Darling…” he slurs, “there's two of you—oh wait…now there's three!” His guffaw fills the quiet morning.

Victoria gives up, leaving the man to the care of her staff. She walks off, huffing and puffing. She gives you a glance, “what are you waiting for? Get inside.”

Her eyes flick to Miguel who stands behind you, she immediately clamps down her bitterness. “Welcome to Hazelside, niece.” With a stomp of her heeled foot, she heads inside, no doubt seething.

“Catty.” Lyla says next to you, elbowing your side. “C’mon, your grace, before the sun gets in their eyes and sends them into a murderous frenzy.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. Something flickers in your peripheral vision, when you move your head to look, whatever it was, it's already gone behind the thick bushes.

“Y/N?” Miguel beckons you over. “It's cold out, come inside before you get sick.”

“Coming,” you call back, eyes darting around the thicket.

—

Miguel shows you around to your room in the west wing. Various historical paintings decorate the walls, wooden simple frames around them, showing the true beauty of the art without all the extravagant gold laurels around it.

Sculpted busts of your ancestors wait at every corner, marble eyes staring blankly at what's in front of them. Large windows line the walls, just outside the glass lies an expansive field of apple trees, bulbs of reds and greens adorning the branches of the mighty orchard. You stand in awe at the sight, workers start flocking the trees, picking and plucking at the ripest of fruits. The sun shines directly at the field, apples aglow with its light like red and green stars.

You lag behind Miguel as you gawp at the scenery, hand tucked inside the pocket of your gown, mindlessly rolling the pearl. Wishing the crew could see it too, wishing that he could see it and harvest the fruits with you.

Miguel calls for you, hand reaching but he retracts it back to his side. “Apples are new around here.” You genuinely smile at him, so he continues. “It used to just be hazelnuts, which still grow plenty in the estate.”

“Why the change then?”

“They didn't change, your family merely adapted. Your grandmother was the one who started planting the apple trees. Whenever she had a—” Miguel falters, you can practically see his brain turning.

“Had a what? I'm a big girl, Miguel, I can handle whatever it is.” You encourage him with a nod.

“A miscarriage,” he says lowly, “At the end of her life she planted seven trees. There was only one seed she didn't plant and that was when your mother was born.”

Your heart aches at the story even though the people in it are practically strangers to you. “Apple of her eye.” You murmur.

Miguel chuckles, turning to watch the vast orchard that spans acres upon acres of land. “It’s an understatement. She was spoiled, your mother. But she had a heart, most of her gifts almost always ‘gets lost’ somewhere.” He smiles fondly. “Strangely enough, it always ends up with someone who would benefit from it more.”

“Which one ended up getting lost in your backyard?” You smile at his rare grin.

“A lot, pocket watches, jeweled eggs, there was a kitten once. Only because her mother didn't like it.” He sighs, hazel eyes shining under the sunlight.

“You loved her.”

“I did,” he stares at you with kinder eyes. “She was my best friend, and so was your father. They both were.”

“What did you mean back at the carriage when you told me that they did the same to you?”

He swallows thickly, staring back at the outside of the opulent manor. “My daughter, Gabriella.” he says after a moment, “She was only a few years older than you. Your parents were her godparents, this was before they eloped and had you.” You can feel the strain in his voice. “She got sick…they poured everything into giving her the best doctors the country has to offer. They were at her side while I was drowning my sorrows in the navy. When they weren't by her side, they were with me. But in the end everything was all in vain.”

“I'm sorry,” you say genuinely, “I'm sorry, Miguel.”

He gives you a tight smile and a pat on your shoulder. “Even after all that they were still by my side, even when I pushed them away.” Sniffing, he subtly wipes his eye. “I didn't cross the sea and traveled thousands of miles to find you because I want us to be even. Or to pay the debt, I just wanted to find the last thing they left in hopes that I also find them in you.” His chest heaves. “I couldn't even say goodbye to them.”

There's tears in your eyes as he chokes on his own words. “I lost my friends but you lost your family before you could even meet them. And for that, I'm sorry, Y/N.” His hand shakes. “They didn't deserve what happened to them.”

“Tell me what happened to them.” You stand toe to toe with him, determined to get answers.

“Pirates, I told you they were pirates.”

You shake your head. “Do you really believe that, O’Hara? Or are you still trying to convince yourself otherwise?”

His jaw clenches, “It was pirates, Y/N.”

“Tell that to the former navy medic I call mother.”

He whispers, “the last time I looked further into their deaths I lost my Job, stripped of all my titles. I almost lost my house because of it.”

“Then tell me what you found.” You challenge him back. “Tell me who ordered it so I can live in this house in peace.”

“I don't have definitive proof—”

“Who?”

“Edward.” He says through gritted teeth. “He wanted to marry your mother, even going as far to ask for her hand. But when she refused him for your father—” he heaves. “I think he has probable cause to order the attack.”

“You were answering the man who might've killed my parents and wanted me dead?”

“How do you think that makes me feel, hm? I had my full trust in the navy, trusting the report they gave, trusted them with my whole life, even dedicating my life to them. And the moment I get a whiff of a planned murder on the only family I've ever had they bar me from the only life I've ever known. How do you think that made me feel?”

“I'm sorry you went through that but you could've done something.”

“He is king!” Miguel's voice booms around the hallway. He shifts his voice, pinching his knitted brows. “His word is law, I couldn't have done anything, even if I had proof.”

“You should've started with that instead of telling me lies, then I would've come to you without a fight.”

“There would've still been a fight.” He states matter of factly. “Hobie was ready to fight the moment I stepped below deck.”

“Could you blame him though? We both know not every single pirate crew is as nice as them, he didn't attack because you claimed it was pirates. Or that he was offended, he knows that he has done unsavoury things too. So what did you say that made him lunge at you?”

Miguel shakes his head, refusing to say anything. “It's best that you don't remember it.”

“Fine, be like that, just know that there will always be a wall between us.” Your heels clack loudly against the oak floors as you leave him behind.

—

The room they gave you was surprisingly comfortable, unlike the apartments in the palace that you explored. It's ten times bigger than the inn you were in, complete with your own bathroom and sitting room. It's all wooden walls covered in beautiful tapestries of various scenes from history— the thick cloth helps keep the heat inside. All the windows are wide open to let the cool air in and the moonlight. So you could hear the rustling of the trees outside, so you could smell the crisp apples. It helps, you think as you sit in front of the large stone fireplace with birds engraved in every corner of the stone.

You're already sick of the bloody birds.

You wrap the fur blanket closer to your body, still in your gown, refusing to wear anything else they've provided for you. You've heard of poisoned dresses before, it's far-fetched but you can't risk it now that you're in a more unfamiliar territory where your own family holds a grudge against you just for existing.

Especially now that you're alone in a large room filled with strange things. And with only his dagger to keep you safe.

Anyone would kill to be in your shoes right now, to be pampered and placed in a household that can provide for all your needs. If it weren't for the hunger in you, you would've left all of the gold in this house just to get back to them. Instead, the fire has you in its hold too.

Miguel's information only fueled the glowing embers in you, you're determined to find who killed them. But you're still restrained in this large manor, and until you can get your answers, you say their names to satiate the hunger.

“Edward and Mathias.” You say through shuddered breath, feeling if you could just say it louder, the sky would strike them down where they stood.

The pearl in your hands is warm, the shiny surface reflecting your scowl.

The flames mesmerize you as it dances in the kindling. Orange and reds illuminate your face, it's the only light in the whole room. You exhale and a puff of clouds escape your cool lips.

It's getting colder, and you're missing him.

Just when you're about to stand up to close the windows, a pebble lands near you. It thuds on the wooden floors, the sound gets your attention.

“What the hell?” You say confused. Standing back up, another flies through the open windows and into your room. “Who the fuck?” Speed walking towards the window, you almost get hit by a pebble if you didn't dodge it in time. “Hey!”

Fifteen feet below your window, you see two people dressed in their night clothes, bundled up in fur coats. They look up at you with wide eyes, like they got caught with their hands inside the cookie jar.

“Cousin!” One exclaims, a wide apologetic smile on his lips, showing you his perfect teeth. “Sorry about that! Can you come down?”

“Who in the world are you?” You ask, confused, you lean down to take a better look, hands gripping the sill for support.

“We're your cousins! I guess?” The girl next to him says, eyes shining in the moonlight, hand holding another pebble. “We waited to see you during supper and around the house but you were apparently hiding!”

“Alright, why do I need to come down then?”

“Because we want to properly introduce ourselves! Without screaming at you from below that is.” The girl shrugs, smiling prettily at you. “Please, cousin?”

“...fine.” you grumble, the dagger is still hidden underneath your skirt in case they're planning something nefarious.

They beam up at you, the girl daintily claps her hands. “Brilliant! We'll be waiting at the entrance.”

As you trudge down the unfamiliar sprawling halls, trying your hardest to not get lost in the maze-like structure. You accidentally encounter another painting of your mother.

Her name is etched on a golden plaque just below the portrait. This one was different from the one in the palace, she was stiff there, lips tightly closed into a line, eyes cold and empty. The one in front of you is warm, a soft smile on her lips, eyes shining and alive. Her dress is in lilac, golden stars adorning the bodice. She still wore the same necklace you're currently wearing, it rests perfectly on her neck. In her hand is a closed locket, you wonder whose portrait lies inside.

“Hi, mum.” You whisper into the cold hallway. “Where's dad's portrait?” You ask like she would open her mouth and answer back. With a sigh, you head downstairs.

Walking the ancient floors, the moon shines down at you, the light peeking in from the gaps of the heavy curtains. Silently, you meet with your cousins in the foyer. Carefully coming down the curved staircase, hand gripping the bannister, the boy who is about the same age as Miles meets you halfway. He reaches towards you, giving you a hand.

“I heard about your leg, I thought you'd appreciate some help.”

“You're Frederick's children?” You say, questioning whether or not you should take his hand.

“We are,” he says with a sigh. “Come on, cousin, or you might miss it.”

“Miss what?”

“The birds.” The girl waiting in the foyer excitedly says. “They're migrating.”

“Oh, I don't see why that would be so interesting.” You say as the boy flexes his fingers, beckoning you down.

“You’ll see why. Take my hand please, you look like our grandmother going down the steps.”

“Fine,” with an exhale, you take his hand. You hold his hand, a feather light touch that he barely feels, giving yourself enough time to react if he decides to do something.

“I'm Jonathan, or just John.” He says as he gently leads you down the steps. His stride is slow, waiting for your own feet to keep up. “And this is my sister—”

“Collette!” She suddenly clasps your hands when you reach the last step. “Sorry–” her tone is sweet and genuine, quickly removing her hands from yours. “I got too excited! I'm Collette, my brother and I are twins.”

“Unfortunately…” John says under his breath.

Collette jabs her elbow by his side, earning a groan from him. You see the similarities on their faces now that you're closer to them. From the slope of their noses to the curls of their hair, they look very much alike. Except for their eyes, Collette has emerald eyes that shimmer from the oil lamp she carries. While her brother has brilliant blue eyes that remind you of the sea when the sun shines above it.

You get reminded of him again.

“Who's older?” You ask teasingly, pushing the previous thought away.

“I am!” They both speak at the same time. John looks at her sister with disappointment, while Collette scrunches her nose.

“I'm five minutes older than you, Jojo.” She says with a tone you could only describe as annoyed.

“Father told me I'm the one who's five minutes older. Not you!”

“Sure,” she nods sarcastically, the lamp in her hand sways. “Because father was in the room when we were born.” Her head swivels to look at you, and you almost jump at how fast she moved. “He wasn't in the room.”

“Ah, I think I got it—”

“Like you could bloody remember.” John says with a scoff.

Before the argument could go on, you stop them with your hands on each of their shoulders.

“I need to sleep, so whatever you want to show me, just fucking show me.”

Collette stares at you with a gasp, eyes wide like you just said the darndest thing. Meanwhile, John has the biggest grin you've ever seen.

“Wow, cousin.” He says, amused. “I heard you used to run with pirates but I didn't know you got their vocabulary too. Hazelside would be more interesting now that you're here.”

“Gosh,” Collette exhales, clutching her pearls (literally) “I didn't know that word could be uttered by a woman.”

“You should try it sometimes. It's very freeing.” You chuckle at their reaction whilst you make your way outside. “Before we freeze to death, cousins?”

“The oldest should lead the way.” John takes the opportunity to rag on his still bewildered sister.

She groans audibly. “You're not the one with the lamp.”

You smile, there's a warm familiar feeling in your chest.

—

Leaves crunch under your bare foot, you've got blisters from the uncomfortable heels Miguel gave you. You'd take walking on bare feet rather than wear that torture device ever again. The only plus side of the fancy shoe is that it makes you feel powerful with every click of the heels. Walking along a path, tall apple trees carve a way for you and the twins.

“I like your dress.” Collette says right next to you, you sense her wariness by how she keeps her distance. “The color is beautiful, it's our house color.”

“Thank you, but I've been told that red suits me better.”

“Oh, I think they're right actually.” She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Yeah, I'm slowly getting used to this one though.” You lift up your skirt a bit for emphasis.

“Is it true that you were shot?” John asks in front of you, looking over his shoulder. “We heard from the footmen that you were shot by a pirate when O’Hara rescued you.”

“I was, but that's not the whole story. Miguel didn't rescue me.”

“Really?” Collette's brows are raised in question and surprise. You nod at her question. “Huh, I told you we shouldn't listen to gossip.” She slaps her brother on his bicep, he winces, glaring at her. “It's bad to begin with.”

“That's the thing about gossip, Co, it's not always the truth.” He spits out.

“I knew that, pssh.” She crosses her arms on her chest, annoyed and embarrassed.

“Why are we out here again? If you're planning to ambush me—” Colette gasps loudly, like you've shot her.

“Ambush you? Do we look like we know how to fight?” She stops you from going further down the path just as you see a dark river at the end of it.

John knits his brows with a pout. “We're here to give you a warm welcome, cousin. We heard mother and father didn't even give you a tour, so I guess it falls on us to show you around.”

“At night though?” You gesture around the silence of the grounds, save for a few crickets chirping and the flowing of the lake, you're practically alone in the dark.

“Guess we're just living to our house motto, ‘carpe noctem—’”

“‘Seize the night’” Collette finishes her brother's sentence. “The ancestor who established our house was a gambler.” She shrugs.

“That's our house motto?”

“Nope!” Collette answers you. “It was our house motto.” She gestures to herself and her brother. “Before the crown granted us Hazelside, after—” John elbows her. “I'm sorry.”

“It's alright, what's the actual motto?”

“‘alis volat propriis—’”

“‘She flies with her own wings.’” You translate, the siblings look at you with awe. “There's latin in medicine.”

“You know medicine?!” Collette shrieks, the sound echoing through the dark.

“Brilliant.” John murmurs.

“Oh you must tell us more!” Collette loops her arm around yours, walking side by side. “How and where did you learn it?”

“I—”

“Don't pester her, Co.” John clicks his tongue, “have you cut anyone's arm off?”

“How grim!” She exclaims.

As they lead you towards the sparkling lake, you three chat through the night by the banks of the hazelside lake. They ask about the world outside the capital, they ask about the sea and the pirates you were with. You don't tell them about all the blood and violence, deciding that you shouldn't mar their innocent hearts with stories of death. It's not yours to tell, and you don't want to traumatize the only people who don't look at you with contempt.

“So you're not mad at me or even at least a bit annoyed for showing up and taking the estate from your parents?” You ask whilst the sun slowly rises, bathing the lake in bright blue. The hazelnuts in your mouth is a welcome one since you haven't eaten a single bite since you got to the capital.

“Not really.” John munches on his own pile of hazelnuts. He lounges near the water, hand cradling his head, chewing quietly. “We were surprised at first because there have been a handful of girls who claimed to be you. Who were obviously not you.” You raise an eyebrow at his statement. “But when they told us it was Miguel who found you, we were sure it was really you.”

“Wait— there were people who claimed to be me?”

“Mm-hmm.” Collette hums, sitting close to you, hanging on to every word you utter. “They weren't very convincing.”

“The story of Miguel trying to find you was pretty famous around here. I mean, the guy abandoned his post to find a missing duchess who may or may not be alive. That was a big story back then, so a lot of women threw their daughters and young relatives at the manor's gates to get a chance.” John informs you.

“We were quite young back then, but the fakes dwindled away through the years.” Collette finishes his statement.

“‘Quite young’ she says,” he scoffs, “we were barely out of the womb, Collette.” His sister sticks out her tongue at John.

“Huh, that's probably why I haven't heard of it either, I was still young.” You wonder.

“The sun's almost out!” Collette points at the clear sky. “Get ready, cousin, because you're about to see the most gorgeous thing.”

“The birds here migrate at this time of year,” John helps you both up to your feet. You surprisingly take his hand. “like clockwork. Collette and I used to watch it with our parents before they got all…well, too much. Now it's some sort of tradition for us.”

“Look look! The trees are rustling!” She points, jumping up and down.

“Any minute now.” John smiles at his sister as she half hugs him.

The three of you wait for a sign of the birds, a minute passes, then two, then five. Yet, not even a feather flies overhead. The early morning sun shines brighter with every minute that passes. And with every minute, the twins grew agitated.

“Why aren't they coming out?” Collette asks sadly.

“I'm sure they're just getting ready for the journey.” John reassures his sister with a pat on her shoulder. “My calculations are correct, why aren't they here yet?” He questions no one.

Their slumped shoulders and frowns get to you. An idea pops in your head, and you think it's all Hobie's fault.

“Maybe they're still sleeping.” They look at you simultaneously, “I mean it's really cold out, they probably wanted to stay in bed— or nest to sleep more. I know I would want to.”

“Oh,” Collette gives you a small smile at your attempt to make them feel better. “That's probably it. Thank you, cousin.”

You grin mischievously at them, “what if we wake them all up?”

John makes a face. “How?”

You inhale, putting your hands around your mouth, you scream, “wake the fuck up!” The sound echoed throughout the field and across the lake.

Your cousins let out a loud guffaw, you giggle at their reaction. John joins in, copying your actions.

“Wake up you wankers!” He yells, exhilaration filling his chest. “I've always wanted to say that.” Chuckling, he laughs louder at the face his sister is making.

“Johnathan!” His sister gasps next to him.

“What? Try it out! Come on then! No one's out here to tell us off.” John shakes her shoulder, giving you a wide grin.

“Join us in the dark side, Collette.” You sing song, “the birds need a wake up call.”

“You won't tell mother and father?” She asks the both of you. Wiggling, she’s excited.

Crossing your heart, you promise. “I won't, I'm not a tattletale.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die, Co.”

“Alright.” She exhales deeply before letting loud the loudest scream you've ever heard. “Wake up, cocksuckers!” It's so loud that you swear your eardrums are blown out. Smiling, she turns towards your surprised forms.

Now it's you and John's turn to gasp.

“Cocksucker?!” You exclaim, bewildered.

“Where'd you learn that, Co?!” John pokes his sister.

“I heard it when Mrs. Williams stubbed her toe during lessons.” She said shyly.

“Good on you, sis.” He pats her back. “Good on you.”

Collette looks at you expectantly. “Good show, Co.” You wink at her and she giggles happily.

Facing towards the thick trees across the lake, the birds still don't fly overhead. There's nothing but the wind rustling the branches.

“They didn't wake up though.” She says forlornly.

“What if we do it at the same time?” Your words have them smiling again.

“Yes!” They say simultaneously.

“Ready?” They both nod, taking in air before screaming their hearts out.

“Cocksuckers!” The three of you let out simultaneously. The canopy rustles and out comes a hundred or so birds from the thicket.

You all jump up and down, arms up in greeting the birds. Their feathers shine in the sun, light filtering through their wings. Iridescent blues and whites glowing, reflecting in your eyes. Wings flapping loudly, beaks held up high as they greet the sky with open wings.

Amidst the beauty of it all, you wish that he was there to witness it.

A tear slides down your cheek. You wipe it quickly before the twins notice. Head staring up at the sky, amidst all the beauty and light, there's a darkness swirling inside you. Amidst all the life around you, you feel the opposite. And you miss him. The worst part is, you see this place becoming your home.

>>> CHAPTER 13 II

#bdas #between the devil and the sea #between the devil and the sea chap 13 #between the devil and the sea series #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x reader #the kr8tor's creations #hobie brown #hobie brown x fem!reader #spider punk x fem!reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #pirate au #pirate captain! hobie #pirate! hobie #pirate! hobie x reader #hobie x reader #fanfic #atsv fanfiction #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #cw food mention #tw blood #tw violence #cw miscarriage mention #cw injury #hobie fluff

[argylepiratewd]

Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Aziraphale/Crowley Characters: Crowley, Aziraphale Additional Tags: Male presenting pregnancy, Pregnancy, Pregnant Aziraphale, Infertility, Past Miscarriage, Grief/Mourning, Post-Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending

For @ineffablefamfeb SFW prompt #21: Struggling to conceive/infertility. Pay attention to the story tags!

Neither of them will celebrate until there's a baby wailing in Aziraphale's arms. Or, one of them is pregnant again, and Aziraphale and Crowley dare to hope.

#good omens #aziraphale x crowley #crowley #aziraphale #ineffablefamfeb #ineffable family february #ineffable parents #ineffable family #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #cw pregnancy #tw pregnancy #cw miscarriage mention #tw miscarriage mention #cw infertility #tw infertility

[brandwhorestarscream]

I saw your post about making Megatron suffer and figured I might as well share the scenario I came up with after seeing the Earthspark finale :3

When Megatron is still under Mandroid's control, Mandroid, in a fit of spite, gives Megatron to his Sharkticons to enjoy.

They enjoy him very well.

Some time after the finale, Megatron realises that he's carrying, and with a creeping sense of dread, realises he doesn't know if Optimus is the sire or... the Sharkticons. It hadn't been immediately obvious to him what they had done, not in the chaos of the ensuing battle, but then he had seen the traces of dried fluid on his thighs, felt the faint ache. He's familiar with the signs. It's not the first time.

He knows he should tell Optimus. He knows Optimus would never blame him. But the situation, what he nearly did to Twitch, has changed what he thought he knew about himself.

For premium angst, my very first thought is either miscarriage or abortion

There's just. There is so much going on rn. He's recovering from the trauma of being mind controlled, they all are, but there's so many additional levels for his. Being helpless at the hands of some horrible sadist with more power than him, forcing him to act according to their will and nothing more. It's nothing short of slavery, an even more sinister brand than the one he endured on Cybertron in his youth. He has perfectly crystal clear memories of the sharkticons using and abusing him, over and over and over again: in the memories he feels nothing but numbness, but reliving them with his helm clear is violating all over again. He feels dirty, he feels filthy, he feels worthless and used and wells up with such intense aelf loathing and disgust it nearly kills him

He looks at that baby spark orbiting his and feels sicker than he ever has. It's not something conceived out of love, it's something born of a terrible assault and the thought makes him feel hollow.

He doesn't... he doesn't want it, he realizes. Part of him feels bad, but a bigger part of him feels disgust crawling all over his mesh at the sheer thought of them. He hates the idea of bearing one of those monsters' children, and deep down, he knows he could never love them the way a sparkling needs to be loved

It's a hard decision to make and even harder to carry out. There's no medic available to them: the closest they have is Wheeljack. Ratchet and Hook haven't been seen in years. He has to do it himself, in the dead of night, shut away from everyone else and bearing his own spark. He stares down at the innocent little orb nestled close to his soul, so tiny and innocent and unassuming. He's shaking as he whispers, "I'm sorry, little one..." and reaches in to gently close his fingers around them. They go out in an instant, a painless death, and he never breathes a word of it to anyone

#cw miscarriage mention #cw rape mention #megatron #this is some good angst

[drustvar]

death tw under the cut nothing happened im just rambling abt ocs

Writing out Yew’s bio and i think i can say they had a worse time than Rosie during the plague and thats saying something considering Rosie fucking died.

Yew lost their brother and father both of whom they found after they had passed. their sister Oleander's fiancee died and they suffered a miscarriage from the stress So Yew had to watch their younger sister suffer AND Osmunda their other sister was like 'somehow this is YOUR fault!' 

Yew comes back to the city after things are over and their little oddities shopped has been completely ransacked along with their savings . they had wanted to go to Prakra to study / teach music and they just had to abandon that their mom and sisters move to Milova and even though she was offered to go with them she could tell Osmunda did NOT want her there 

so she's just very isolated

#cw miscarriage mention

[asafeplaceforus112]

I went from tired but like chill energy to verbally going

" I hate people" on the tram

I was like mmm yes I'm gonna enjoy some across the spiderverse content.

Only for people to start bitching about Jessica Drew is a terrible mother for being pregnant and still fighting and blah blah blah

Specifically it's someone going "I can smell a miscarriage coming" like fuck me sit your ass down venomfan2020 I can fucking tell you weren't raised with uterus purely from the fact you have the audacity to say that shit.

God fucking damn blocking that fool Jesus Christ it makes me mad

#cw miscarriage #miscarriage #miscarriage mention #cw miscarriage mention #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman: across the spider verse spoilers #spiderman

[gemini-forest]

What's one of the saddest fact in the SIL bad timeline?

Oh at some point in the apocalypse Jayden got pregnant. They were actually excited, so was Leo.

But unfortunately they lost the baby due to health complications and the environment they were in. The stress was too much. Jayden never really mentally recovered from it. They coped by calling Jayden their baby. Casey was like, 6 when this all happened.

So he's a bit worried 'bout his new baby sister on the way in the good timeline.

So CJ is a wee protective of Annie

#ask gem #cw mention of miscarriage #Sorry I'm Late Au #Sil au #rottmnt Sorry I'm late

[lilyrizzy]

5 headcanons for any maxpreg universe........

(thank you for number 77 anon! ) Have some generalised maxpreg hc’s bc I can’t remember any of my maxpreg universes from the top of my head.

cw: mention of miscarriage/poor body image following pregnancy but no major angst!

I think Max would love, love, love being pregnant, but I think he’d maybe feel a little insecure with the permanent changes of his body afterwards. His stretch marks, how it’s harder to snap back to his pre-pregnancy weight, especially if he’s planning to race again (which I think he would be depending on the au). Daniel on the other hand, he would be ravenous for every single change, would be pawing at Max constantly after, desperate to touch the marks on his body, to shower Max with praise and remind him how amazing he is, he did this beautiful thing for them.

I think the hesitations about his postpreg body however would NOT deter Max from wanting more babies (he’s like, of course the solution is to be pregnant all the time so I am never feeling bad about my body after) and like, idk by baby number three Daniel has to be like…sweetheart, I think…maybe…it’s enough? He loves their kids, he just worries about if they have enough attention and time to divide between them. But Max is like, Daniel of course we cannot stop on an odd number! One will be left out when they play:( so they have one more lol and Daniel grumbles about having to buy a 7 seater

BUT I think the last baby, is more of a struggle. Like with the first three it felt like Daniel only had to look at Max when he was ovulating (do not make me think of the logistics of mpreg or I will never write it again lmao) and he was pregnant. But this one, it takes a lot, lot longer, and for realism sake (she says, writing mpreg) I think they have maybe one early miscarriage (I will keep my angsty thoughts over this to myself). So when they do get their last little baby, Daniel cries into Max’s hair in the hospital bed, harder than when they had all the others, and all Max can do is smile and tell him, ‘I think you are right now. It is enough.’ And that’s them, that’s their family!

I think they have three girls! And the last one is a little boy. Which I think would have been more fraught for Max if he’d been one of their first, but by that time he’s confident in his parenting skills. He’s never shouted at the girls, or at Daniel in front of the girls. He’s got this. Daniel looks at him when they get the sex during the ultrasound and asks, ‘okay Maxy?’ and Max takes a beat and then tells him, ‘it is perfect, I think.’

Daniel would 100% such at Max’s tits so much that Max worries every time that he’ll be all dried up by the time the babies comes (sorry not sorry) but he never is

#woo maxpreg i've acc missed thinking about him #max/daniel #fic #kinda #i'm trying to space these out so i'm not bugging everyones dash #but i'm soooo bored so no promises #cw miscarriage #cw weight mention #sorry this is formatted so weird w the spacing i cant make it normal im stupid

[im-just-a-br0adway-baby]

Encantober 2023 Day 16: Grief

The end of January was always a hard time of the year for Julieta and Agustin. January twenty-sixth was the original due date for the child they were supposed to have when Luisa was two years old. Julieta and Agustin were so excited that they were having another child together, but their lives would come crashing down that spring. She got several tests done at the hospital and it was confirmed that she miscarried.

The months after the announcement were the most devastating months for Julieta and Agustin. They saw the door disappear slowly before getting a confirmation from the doctor, which made them anxious. That was when they went to the hospital to get the confirmation. The entire family grieved the loss of their potential new child, sibling, cousin, grandchild, and nibling, but Julieta carrying the child made her the most traumatized.

Now, every year on January twenty-sixth, the Madrigal family hosts a private memorial service to remember the life the child could have had with them. Alma would tell the story of the would-be Madrigal to Mirabel, Camilo, and Antonio and have a yearly candle ceremony by the lake. While they also celebrated the life the child could have had, Julieta and Agustin could not get themselves to even try to celebrate their child’s potential life.

When the child’s would-have-been eighteenth birthday approached, Alma decided to hold a ceremony at Casita and have Julieta make a cake for them. As much as she did not want to, she agreed anyway because they would still be an important part of the family, and it would have been her child, after all.

While she was baking the cake, Mirabel came into the kitchen to see her mother clearly upset while baking. She could not help but walk in to see her mother crying and see how she was doing.

“Hola, mami; I couldn’t help but notice you still crying while baking. Are you still upset about the miscarriage?”

“Si, Mirabel; I really hope you never have to deal with this when you get to my age. It’s one of the most devastating things any mother could go through. That’s why we always say how you were our miracle baby, because we didn’t think we would be able to have any more children after that.”

Mirabel sat at the kitchen island while Julieta continued gathering ingredients. “I hope you don’t mind, mami, but could you tell me about your pregnancy a little bit? I know it didn’t last long, but I wanted to know how it felt.”

Julieta signaled Mirabel to come near her. “I was so excited about having a third child. Your tia was visibly upset and jealous since she was trying so hard to conceive and knowing I was able to do so twice after her made her visibly upset. But she still supported me and was just as upset when I announced the miscarriage.”

Mirabel hugged her mother once she told that part of the story. She wanted to learn more about the older sibling she could have had, but she also knew there was not much information to be revealed since her pregnancy did not last very long.

“You also have no idea how excited your papi and I were when I was pregnant with you two years later. It was also why I got so emotional when you were born. It also made me worried because of the last pregnancy. So I was kind of overprotective of you when you were born. I didn’t even let your tia Pepa or tio Bruno hold you for a couple weeks because I was too scared of losing you.”

Mirabel began helping her mother with the cake by taking out some flour and sugar from the cabinet. “Do you remember how you felt after the miscarriage was announced?”

“It was the most devastating news your papa and I got. We went to the hospital that day because we saw the door fade and we needed to do some tests at the hospital to see if we didn’t miscarry. Once we did the test, they diagnosed the miscarriage and that was when we and the rest of the family got the news.”

Julieta put a bowl on the counter and Mirabel started to scoop flour into it. Julieta got the milk and the butter from the refrigerator and put it on the counter. “Do you still sometimes wonder what kind of gift they would have had if they were born?”

“We sometimes do; we wonder a lot of things about the child if we ended up having them. Like, what their interests would have been, or which one of the adults they would have been the most attached to. Bruno liked to joke about how they would have been the most attached to him just to tease me, since Isabela was the most attached to you abuela and Luisa was the most attached to your papi.”

Julieta took two cups of water and put it in the bowl of flour. Isabela and Luisa came into the kitchen to see their mother and sister working on the cake. “Hola, Mami and Mirabel, we just wanted to see how the cake was doing,” Isabela mentioned.

“The cake is getting done. I just needed to give Mami some motivation to make it,” Mirabel replied.

“What’s been going on?” Luisa asked.

“I’ve just been thinking about the child I would have had, like I always do when we have these ceremonies,” Julieta explained.

“Mami, I know that this is the hardest day of the year for you and papi, and you’re not wrong for still grieving for their potential life. But you still understand why Abuela holds these ceremonies every year, right?” Isabela explained.

“Si, because the life they would have had would still be special and to teach us that even the potential life is precious.”

Julieta’s daughters hugged her excitedly once she mentioned the reason. “So you still understand the meaning of these ceremonies,” Mirabel mentioned.

“And besides, you still have three amazing daughters that fill your life with joy everyday,” said Isabela.

“And you still call Mirabel your miracle baby and express how grateful you are that she’s here, alive, and healthy,” Luisa added.

Julieta hugged her daughters back. “Do you want to help me with the cake? Mirabel offered and we would need this done in a couple hours.”

“Si, mami, we would love to,” Luisa replied.

The cool-colored sisters gathered more ingredients for the cake and helped Julieta finish making the cake. They put it in the oven after gathering the ingredients and helping Julieta mix them in the batter. After a half hour, Julieta took the cake out of the oven and Mirabel got the icing out of the refrigerator, and all three girls iced the cake. Each daughter then decided to be in charge of one decorating process for the cake and it was done within another half hour. The four women looked at the cake in awe to see how great it looked.

“I’m sure it’s going to taste as great as it looks,” Mirabel pointed out.

“And it’s all because I got my three amazing daughters to help me out,” Julieta added.

Alma came into the kitchen to see her elder daughter and her three cool-colored granddaughters finishing up with the cake.

“Is the cake almost finished? You have been in here for several hours,” Alma pointed out.

“Lo siento, mama, I was just thinking about the grief this miscarriage has given me and was telling Mirabel about my pregnancy at the time. I understand that I’ve been dreading this day every year for eighteen years, and I’m still going to in the future, but I’m starting to find some more positives on this day too,” Julieta explained.

Alma smiled and gave Julieta a hug. “I knew you would one day see the good in these ceremonies. You know that we celebrate all the Madrigals in this house, even the ones we lost and never got a chance at life.”

“I understand now, mama. And now, even Mirabel understands too.”

#encanto #disney #disney encanto #disney's encanto #encantober #encantober 2023 #day 16 #grief #julieta madrigal #mirabel madrigal #miscarriage #isabela madrigal #luisa madrigal #abuela alma madrigal #family tragedy #cw mentions of miscarriage #cw miscarriage #la familia madrigal

[kailali]

With your Forget Fic just imagine darling feeling ill a few weeks later. And Toge is the second to last one to connect the dots. Like it takes Maki or Panda asking if it is possible for her to be pregnant for him to go Oh! Shit! It is Possibly. And shes like no not possible. And he's just metaphorically chewing on his nails trying to figure out his next move.

Content & Trigger Warnings: noncon, pregnancy, mentions of harming a person/their pregnancy, allusion to abortion, allusion to miscarriage.

Oh. My. GOSH!

I love this!!! Everybody suspects - literally everybody, and imagine Maki and Nobara talking her into taking a test with them there for support - "just in case" - so there's no way for Toge to interfere before they all know she really is pregnant, even though she swears it's not possible.

Sure, he could try to interfere after, to make it all go away and seem like an accident, or something just naturally went wrong, but...

He can't help but love her even more, the way she's leaning on him more for support, the way she immediately changes all her habits, because, sure, she didn't ask for this, but until she decides how she's going to handle it, she's going to take extra good care of herself and the tiny life blossoming inside of her.

Toge knows that if she gives birth to the baby, there will be no way for him to hide what he's done - but could he really ever do anything to sabotage something that is half him, half her?

Nonny, you're seriously a genius! (I've been having the worst day but this made it so much brighter!)

Would you mind if I used your idea to possibly continue Forget?

#asks.anon #inumaki toge #yandere!inumaki #yandere!toge #noncon tw #abortion tw #miscarriage tw #kids cw #children cw #babies cw #baby cw #pregnancy cw #mention of potential harm ? #I've been wanting to add to Forget... #and this is giving me so many good ideas! #yan!Toge my beloved #jjk

[feydfuckernation]

are any of you ready for me to talk about the idea of benjamin and lucy barker losing their first child before they had johanna. are you ready for me to talk abt the notion of death having always haunted the barker family since before it even began, how death has always tied the barker family together before tearing it apart. how death comes for us all but favours the innocent most of all. are you ready for that conversation.

#filed under headcanons that officially keep me up at night #lion.txt #sweeney todd #miscarriage cw #miscarriage mention cw #this is ESPECIALLY relevant to the 2023 revival version of sweeney because that's the one that was in my head at the time #lore tag #headcanon tag

[anxiouspotatorants]

Obviously everything in season 1 needs to be taken with a grain of salt and for all I know 90% of the reveals were a lie, but based on season 1 alone Maura’s situation is both horrifying and ingenious.

Because think about it. Regardless of if she planned it herself or if it was Ciaran, Maura’s simulation life is an actual hellscape. Her father was still neglectful and abusive. Her mother still lost all her memory. Simulation! Maura had experienced a miscarriage and was distressed about no longer being able to conceive, she was living in constant fear of her father’s plans, in a world and time where being a woman in the field of medicine was a nightmare all on its own, and where the only person she thought she could trust had been missing for four months. And then she finds out it’s all a lie. This torture of a life was created, and supposedly by herself, to escape the pain of her real life. Because to the Maura who made all of this, a life where she lived in constant fear and distrust of everything and everyone including her own mind was still a better life than the one where she lost her son.

And it was such a smart move too. Because why would she believe that such a life was a simulation? Wouldn’t she have come up with something fun and good? Or at the very least not so painful? And to on top of that give her a backstory that made her have to constantly fight not to question her perception of reality? To remind herself that she wasn’t crazy? It’s downright diabolical.

#and here we can once again see me live in complete denial of the cancellation #it's about the horror of whether or not you're percieving reality #and also the horror of grief #I need to see where this goes I need to know if Maura has a god complex #and how much of the simulation was based in her real life #maura franklin #1899 #1899 meta #1899 netflix #1899 spoilers #cw miscarriage #cw abuse mention

[shesthespinstersimmer]

The talk (2)

Previous / Next / Beginning

JUDE: Oh baby... I'm so sorry.

CORA:

Don't be. I didn't want to be a mother.

Anyway, it happened a long time ago. I was 16.

JUDE: That doesn't take away the trauma, though. I hate that you had to experience that. As for the rest, how did you get out?

CORA: When Myra found out, she and my Tio Lorna met with the OGs. They voted for my retirement.

JUDE: What happened to the person who hurt you?

CORA: His baby's mom killed him... now you know why Lo's mom is in jail.

JUDE: Thanks for telling me.

CORA: When I first opened my shop in Strangerville, I made an appointment with Dr. Piper. I don't even know why, But I told her about it.

JUDE: I'm glad you did. It's not healthy to keep something like that inside.

CORA:

I just never wanted anyone to look at me like a victim, you know? And beside, I was too busy looking after Lupe and my mom.

What do we do now?

JUDE: That's up to you, baby. If you want to keep up with the therapy, that's cool. If you need more time, that's cool too.

#shesthespinstersimmer #storyteller #sims 4 story #weird & wonderful #jude mann #cora flores #cw sa mention #cw violence #cw miscarriage

[sweet-vanilla-sims]

Year 1644

TW/CW: Child Death, Death Mention, Miscarriage

Still reeling from the news that Hestor and her newborn daughter had died the previous December, more loss hit the Carlisle family as a housefire claimed the life of young Veniera on the 14th of February.

Tala couldn't believe it that her youngest was gone so soon. Though she hoped that at least her spirit would keep Giacomo and Osana's spirits company wherever they had passed on to.

Giulia was devastated by the loss of her little sister especially as she anticipated the arrival of her own little one. It scared her to think about the loss of a child and the idea of losing the child within her as well filled her mind.

The older girls in the Carlisle home did their best to keep busy as they mourned the loss of Veniera the best they could. They were heartbroken but they also wanted to stay strong for each other.

Giulia did her best to support her sister and her sister's cousin as she tried to push her own fears from her mind. At least the other girls were spared from the fire which was a blessing.

Tala was grateful for the support from her oldest in the wake of the younger one's loss. As Giulia approached the end of her pregnancy, Tala did her best to move on from her loss to best support her daughter with her pregnancy.

It was mid May when Giulia felt the pains of early labor for the first time. Tala rushed over and spent the next few hours shooing Giovanni from being a bother to the laboring Giulia and having the girls help out around the Morosini home as Tala talked Giulia through her pains. Tala could at the very least support her daughter through the birth of her first baby.

It was afternoon on May 18th that Orsolina Morosini was born. She was named after Giovanni's late mother and thankfully for the entire family, she was born perfectly healthy.

Despite mentioning from the start of their marriage about how much he wanted a son, Giovanni was truly in love with his daughter. He had never seen a child so lovely and was determined to do the best for her.

Giulia was grateful that following the birth she hardly had to do any work as after Raquel and Felicita finished their lessons and work around their own garden they would go up the hill to help out with the Morosinis. Giulia was even impressed to find meals taken care of and while Felicita was determined to take credit it was clear that the nearly-teenaged Raquel was the true cook. The love her family had for her was so evident in all the rest she could have having given birth.

Orsolina grew up into a lovely infant over the next few months who was such an active child her parents were even more confident of her health. Often times Giovanni would be on the floor with her after working the gardens or going out hunting, he was determined to spend time with his little one.

But with all the extra time on their hands to really focus on their new little family and not the housework, despite their troubles having Orsolina, it was very little surprise that Giulia was expecting again by the end of summer.

Giulia was excited to have another child though she did worry about the added work of going from one child to two and having to restart her own housework soon since it simply wasn't sustainable to have the girls keep helping out.

Though that was a problem for the future. For the time being, Giovanni and Giulia were enjoying being new parents to their daughter and expecting their second child. Giovanni was hopeful that this time they would have a son and the pair spent the late hours of the afternoon while their daughter slept whispering sweet nothings to each other and discussing names for their future child.

Giovanni even after learning about the new pregnancy was still entranced by his young daughter, he knew that some men tended to focus more on their sons and while yes, he did have a preference, he wasn't going to show favoritism when his son arrived.

In early November, Raquel celebrated her thirteenth birthday with the entire Tartosa family by her side. After the losses of the year, Tala decided that she had been too lax about looking into Raquel's sister and decided that she would see if she could bring her younger sister into the family as well to reunite the pair. Raquel was absolutely overtaken with gratitude that her aunt was willing to take in a child that wasn't her own relative for her sake. Tala knew the girl was with her father but... she wondered if it was right to keep siblings separated. She would talk more with Ramon later.

It felt like a weight had dropped on the bubble of happiness that Giulia had been living with following the birth of her daughter when, just a few days after Raquel's celebration, she had awoken to blood and cramping. Giovanni had rushed with Giulia to get the midwife leaving Orsolina with Tala, only to be told that the pregnancy had been lost. The couple returned home with a silent melancholy shared between them that neither wished to bring up.

Giovanni wondered if perhaps they had been too greedy, chasing the high that came with the addition of a new family member that had caused such a devastating loss. They still had plenty to be grateful for as their daughter, oblivious to her parent's loss, was still just as much of a light in their lives even if their loss had made the rest of their days darker.

#Giovanni Morosini #Giulia Morosini #Tala Carlisle #Raquel Ruano #Felicita Carlisle #Veneira Carlisle #Orsolina Morosini #The Carlisle Chronicles #Decades Legacy Challenge #tw death mention #tw child death #tw miscarriage #cw child death #cw death mention #cw miscarriage #1644 #1640s #ts4

[haystarlight]

I was talking about this with my university classmates once.

It's really weird that Spanish doesn't have 2 different words for the terms "Abortion" and "Miscarriage". In Spanish, they're both called "Aborto", which is honestly very confusing if you ask me.

Whether you're for or against it, I think everyone can agree that it's really confusing that 2 very different things are being referred to with the same word. Because, if an afab person comes to you in Spanish like "Tuve un aborto", you have no clue if they made the decision to terminate the pregnancy or if they lost the baby for a reason out of their control.

2 very different situations that require a very different approach should have a different word to know which one you're referring to at any given time.

#abortion mention #miscarriage mention #abortion tw #miscarriage tw #cw miscarriage #cw abortion #tw abortion #tw miscarriage #spanish #español #aborto #abortion #miscarriage

[randooffthestreet99]

So, I do have a Cross child I would like to talk about, because I feel like he would be the greatest parent in the world lol

Her name is Salem! Cross adores her, even if she wasn't planned. He tells his brother XPapyrus first, and eventually everyone finds out. (This is during a good timeline where they are all safe....mostly) They make a nursery for her and XUndyne constantly talks about how great of an Aunt she will be.

Trigger warning for under the cut! Please do not read before reading the tags.

Well. Cross would have been the best parent ever. If Salem had survived. Salem was...not intended, and neither was her creation. XGaster would punish Cross in ways that a person never should, and Salem was the creation of that. Cross was terrified when he learned he was pregnant, but he decided that the baby was his more than XGaster's. Well, XGaster decided to ignore Cross for the next couple months, content to just avoid him and the child, but XPapyrus started pushing Cross to tell them who the father was. Cross insisted that he didn't know, that it was a one night stand, but XPapyrus accepted that if Salem got a paternity test done.

XGaster didn't like that.

XGaster pulled Cross away in the middle of the night and beat him until he was unconscious and bleeding, kicking and hitting him in the stomach repeatedly to ensure Salem's death. He was found in the morning by XUndyne.

Cross was in shock. They took him to a hospital kicking and screaming and sobbing to have a stillbirth.

It happened again...and again....almost every OVERWRITE. And then XFrisk restored his memories. He was shook to his core, nearly passing out.

Once he joined Nightmare’s gang, the others noticed very small habits of his that were almost unnoticeable. He would absent-mindedly place a hand where his stomach was or quietly hum lullabies, and would get this look on his face whenever it came to any kind of baby clothes or products, flinch whenever a baby cried, or even just look really depressed whenever he saw a pregnant person.

They had no idea why, and Killer only brought it up once, only to have him completely break down. Never again.

They did eventually learn about Salem. Cross was rip roaring drunk, alone and sobbing in his room, muttering about her. Eventually he accidentally let's spill that it was the day he had to give a still birth to his child the first time. He sobbed and said they had to clean her dust off his SOUL. Needless to say, they were horrified.

The next morning, Cross has one hell of a hangover and everyone was looking at him strangely, and he finally asked them what was up. He never regretted a question more than when Horror quietly whispered "We're sorry about Salem..."

He went stiff and asked how the hell they knew that name and was horrified when he learned the events of the night before. But... it felt good. That somebody finally knew what happened to him, that they knew and wouldn't judge him. The looks were gone soon, the others had just needed to process what had happened to their friend and teammate.

They were more understanding from then on, and would do little things on the days that hurt the most. Cooking special foods, cuddle piles, just being there for Cross, and it meant the world. Healing is a very slow and painful process, but they were getting there.

Cross was healing.

#cross sans #xtale cross #xtale #cw #tw miscarriage #tw child death #tw child abuse #tw infant death #tw injury #tw mentions of sa #tw mentions of violence #tw mentions of death #tw mentions of abuse #tw stillbirth #why did i do this #why did i make this #why did i write this #i'm sorry #):

[screechthemighty]

Okay, so I hit the point where we find out Jake and Marlene were hooking up, and like. Okay. I may need corrections about some of this because reading as much Moon Knight as I have within the past month has been a bizarre fever dream, but by my calculations

NOTHING ABOUT THIS MAKES SENSE

Let’s start with one single baseline fact: Jake and Marlene were a couple in Vengeance of the Moon Knight. I know, it’s hard to tell because Jake was functionally written as Marc but with more morals, but the 2006 arc established that Marc had gone dormant and that Jake was the primary. Vengeance of the Moon Knight continued this. He goes by Jake the whole time, up until the end of Shadowland: Moon Knight when Marc comes back and hauls them out to LA for the Bendis run. I cannot stress this enough: Jake and Marlene were sleeping together, ENGAGED TO BE MARRIED, AND SHE WAS PREGNANT IN SHADOWLAND BEFORE SOME PLOT BULLSHIT MADE HER MISCARRY.

Again, I can see how some people would gloss this over because the writing on Vengeance of the Moon Knight was hmmmm unimaginative and boring about that aspect, but it was Jake. So why is this second hookup suddenly so much different and more scandalous and evil? They were literally gonna get married. What the hell is happening.

And! And. This is where I get truly deranged because I’ve tried to look at the timeline and

Okay so Marlene says that she and Jake hooked up in such a way that Diatrice was born five years prior. Okay, cool. Except this doesn’t make ANY SENSE WITH ESTABLISHED EVENTS.

If you go by real world time, that would mean that Diatrice was conceived sometime in 2012, so two years after 2010 which is when Shadowland was published. So that means Jake and Marlene were engaged, broke up when Marc came back and moved to LA, then hooked up two years later and Diatrice happened. Except. EXCEPT. As far as I remember, their asses stayed in LA until 2014 when the Ellis run happened, and Marlene did not follow them to LA that I know of. So how the shit was Jake travelling cross-country enough times to have a kid with Marlene?? Without Marc noticing.

“But Screech, Marvel operates on a different timeline than the real world!” Okay, great, that’s actually worse. It’s about 3-5 years (depending on which source I site) IRL years to one Marvel year, and regardless of which year you use, five years in-universe would mean that Diatrice was, in comics, conceived in plotlines or events that happened before Vengeance of the Moon Knight. Before Shadowland. So we’re going from this toxic relationship to them nearly getting married and having a second kid to breaking up and somehow the baby they already have...never comes up.

Granted, there may have been an in-universe timeskip that I missed because I’ve just been reading shit with Moon Knight in it in chunks, but the timeline issues don’t erase the issue with Marlene and Jake

HAVING ALREADY BEEN A COUPLE, BEMIS DID YOU READ ANY MOON KNIGHT COMICS BEFORE YOU WROTE THIS SHIT, BECAUSE SO FAR EVERYTHING I’VE READ SAYS YOU DIDN’T

#screech reads moon knight #miscarriage mention cw #I'm absolutely losing my mind over this #I had to stop reading during my desk shifts at work because I was low key spiralling