#tw mention of infant death

[ashleybenlove]

"I didn't marry you for your cooking."

This fucking line.

Wouldn't it be hilarious if she was already pregnant when they got married?

(Yes, with Hiccup. Though I'm firmly of the opinion that Hiccup was not the only pregnancy they had. Just the only one to make it out of infancy.)

#ashleybenlove posts #how to train your dragon #httyd2 #miscarriage mention #infant death tw #It just feels SO LIKELY

[quitealotofsodapop]

Out of Context LMK "The Monkey King and the Infant" AU memes I made cus its too warm to write rn

A lot of these are shitposting, but also spoilers for events in my upcoming fic so I put them under read more:

#lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk meme #the monkey king and the infant #the monkey king and the infant au #death mention tw #lmk shadowpeach au #shadowpeach #lmk theories

[mushroom-for-art]

Ghost Ice type first stage bunny pokemon thingy I designed, not a free to use design nor concept ect, still workshopping the name hence the different name options around, ft regular and shiny, probably won't design an evo tho so forever baby

They're a baby bunny who froze to death that's basically their whole deal didn't develop all their fur a naked little grey sausage that died when it got too cold because they weren't in the nest or mom wasn't there idk Hisuian Zoroark inspired of course with the ghostly fluff except that gained ice type because they are frigid to the touch. Dark paws based off of a Ultraviolet redesign with his extremities darkened because yea ur fingers probably blacken off first same to the ear tips and a pale underbelly because it's cute. A dark morbid concept yea but I kinda needed to make it. Could also just be a hisuian inspired Eevee if I get lazy since a friend suggested they did look that way and honestly banger not wrong

Morbunny from morbid and bunny cause they're dead that's pretty morbid also probably mortician work with the dead

Bunnearly as a sort of parallel to Buneary a nearly bunny because they died weird idk convergent evolution/similar naming must have been a cruel scientist

Bunise from bunny and demise

Lagumise lagu from the scientific term for rabbit and demise

Lagution rabbit execution I'm pretty sure it was

Lagusis rabbit rigamortis

#my art #pokemon #Fakemon #My fakemon design #Not free to use #Obviously if you wanna make your own dead ghost bunny go ahead just don't steal this design #I have my reasons for making this #Tw mentions of death #Tw infant mortality #Tw standard pokemon lore

[aqueerpolysocialist]

This fully makes me want to scream. This is one of a number of cases in relatively recent NHS history that to me seem to all trace back to some combination of underfunding and bad management structure / workplace culture.

This is from the inquest into the death in 2020:

(not sure why but the document is very closely cropped when it opens for me - see alt text if you're having readability issues)

Now obviously we have some clear clinical mistakes to point to here but the actual neglect is being caused by the unit being understaffed - they were 6 midwives short at the time - and the fact that the management culture discouraged nurses from challenging doctors when they had concerns.

It gets worse. We learn thanks to an anonymous whistleblower that this NHS Trust had most definitely known for almost a year that the nursing staff had massive, materially demonstrable concerns about their ability to provide adequate care under the conditions they were being asked to work with.

This is from the Prevention of Future Death report produced by the coroner. This is so damning. This is what happens when you have a management culture that does not respect workers! We see this time and time again in every sector; if you don't listen to what workers are telling you then you are making that workplace unsafe, whether for the workers or for the people using that service or product. Specifically in the medical sector, I would refer anyone interested to Jane McAlevey's writing on her time organising healthcare unions in the US, which references better sources than I can find off the cuff for unionised hospitals providing better patient outcomes.

And what is our institutional response to this incident? Well this is why I want to scream. An £800,000 fine that the presiding judge specifically notes will have to come out of money that would otherwise be spent on patient care. Because apparently we can't get our heads out of the capitalist mindset that caused this tragedy in the first place. What are the problems? Bad management culture and understaffing. How will we punish this to create change? Take money away!

How is this supposed to make things better? How are patients going to have improved care? How are nurses going to have the time to give proper attention to their patients when one midwife in this case specifically stated that she had concerns but had not been able to find the time to fill out the relevant form to report those concerns?

I want to SCREAM.

#uk nhs #national health service #tw death mention #tw child loss #tw infant death #capitalism #wynter andrews #uk #uk politics #nhs

[thestressedsimmer]

October 6th, 1314: The Willow Creek Royal Residence

When Joan's husband came to her chambers before she was even dressed, she knew that something was wrong. When she got up to curtsey to him and his response wat to tell her not be formal in a soft and loving voice? She knew it must be horribly wrong.

"My love," he said; only worrying her further, "John's nurses came to my study this morning. They found him still and not breathing in his cradle."

The words hit her like a bucket of ice water. No, no, no. That was impossible. She had just seen him the night before. They had sang songs, she was teaching him prayers, he had nursed from her breast. He was fine! Yes, his breathing had always been a little bit funny. And yes, he always seemed to fuss and sleep longer than even your average baby, but he --- he ---

"I know we have been fighting, Louis, but this is awfully cruel. Do not come in here and tell me such things."

"I would never lie to you about this! Surely as my wife, you would know that!"

"No, you must be lying! You must be! I just saw him last night! I tucked him in that cradle myself! I kissed him goodnight and told him I would see him in the morning. I promised him that, Louis, I ---"

Suddenly the world was spinning. She always was light-headed and sickly. Her husband, used to her body, caught her immediately.

"Joan. My love, please get it together! He would not want you to be so hysterical!" Louis said, gripping her arms tightly.

Even in his brief life, John was awfully attuned to emotions. On top of that, him and his mother had been awfully close... He was the apple of her eye. The blessing that came from her father-in-law's death.

"He... He can't be gone. He can't be. The Watcher would not give us such a precious gift only to take it back. She wouldn't do that. She's merciful, isn't she?"

In response to that? Her husband was silent. There was nothing left to say. All of the riches in the world, a whole kingdom at their disposal...

And their son was still dead.

#tw: infant death #tw: infant death mention #tw: grief #tw: death #he died of a birth defect :/ #ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 ultimate decades challenge #ultimate decades challenge #udc #morbid's ultimate decades challenge #1314 #willow creek #1314 willow creek #willow creek royals

[sweet-vanilla-sims]

Year 1661

TW/CW: Death Mention, Infant Death

The start of the year was largely uneventful until the Morosini girls celebrated their birthday making them officially teenagers. It was little surprise that time had only bolstered Orsa's love for the outdoors while the oceanic views of Tartosa only drew in Orelia's heart further. While the girls were still close it was blatantly obvious to everyone that if they had a say, it was only a matter of time before they parted ways but considering how young they were and that that time had not yet come, they pushed thoughts of the future from their minds.

Orelia tried to get into caring for the garden to try and connect with her family but she found it more of a chore than anything. It felt that the more she tried to connect with her family the more distant she felt. Her sisters, Orsa and Osana, when she had the time to spare, waxed poetic about true love and dreams of marrying a wealthy nobleman while Orelia couldn't imagine dreaming of marrying some guy and being like her mother though she did understand that her sisters did hope for a life of partnership and a gaggle of kids... her mother related in the sense that Giulia figured that her young daughter simply was too young to fancy that but Orsa and Osana had wanted that kind of life for years and she didn't... would it come with time like her mother theorized? Did she even want it to or did she just want to feel closer to her sisters again?

Olivia continued to be a rather independent child which was nice for Giulia and Giovanni since it gave them the time to be alone and reconnect after so many ups and downs through the years.

Though perhaps they connected too well as Giulia learned that she was expecting once again. Giuliano wasn't exactly stoked to be a brother again but he also didn't mind either way. Olivia was excited but she didn't quite understand what it meant to have a baby sibling being the youngest herself.

It seemed that the year was a good time for babies in Tartosa as Felicita also revealed that she was expecting as well a few weeks later. While Giulia expected her child to arrive sometime towards the end of the year, Felicita figured hers would arrive at the start of the next.

Unfortunately things were not all well in the family as a couple months after the fact, Giulia received news that her nephew from her brother had passed away in March. She took solace in her six healthy children while she prayed for her brother and his wife to fare well in spite of their loss.

With Giulia's pregnancy progressing she came to terms with expecting her ninth child and actually began to look forward to having a new baby in her arms though she did continue to pray that this would be the last. She found it a humorous twist of fate that at the start of her marriage she had hoped for a child but now eight kids in, she was hoping to be done.

Still as her stomach grew she felt pangs of guilt that she had been so fortunately blessed while her brother had just recently lost his firstborn.

More worryingly though was the state of the garden. The plants were growing but the yields were pitiful with scarcely enough for the family let alone to sell for taxes and payments. The little money Osana was bringing home was being used to supplement the family home at this point. With Giuliano growing old as well, Giulia worried about the future and finding the funds for their unmarried daughters to have dowries. Did they sacrifice their other daughter's futures for Orsolina? Surely if they hadn't paid the extravagant price to marry into nobility they could have found matches for the rest... Giulia ran over the numbers in her mind and yet she remained grateful that at least the twins seemed fine with waiting for a match rather than not wanting to wait like Osana.

In fact, Osana seemed enamored with her younger sister and while Giulia wanted her daughter to have the life she wished for, she wished that her second born would stop wanting to rush into the future as she overheard her telling her sister that she was eager to marry and have her own kids for her sister and unborn sibling to play with.

Giovanni was delighted to spend time with his youngest as his older kids began to branch out from wanting his affections. Olivia might have been independent but she still enjoyed being doted on.

The older kids still took lessons with Tala which only made Olivia want to grow up more. For Orelia, the mutual dislike of lessons she shared with her siblings was at least one commonality they all shared. Though they did laugh a bit at how eager their little sister was to join them when they found it to be such a bore.

Of the siblings, Giuliano and Olivia proved to be rather close as Giuliano found it hard to hear his sisters, not Orelia, talking about the boys in town or in the Collari Manor, and Olivia was more than happy to talk about whatever he did since she practically idolized her big brother. Though that was likely since they had a smaller age gap.

Giulia went into labor in late December, later than she thought she would since she had noticed that each baby had come a little sooner than the last aside from the twins who obviously came early.

Just a few days before the year ended on December 29th, Giulia delivered her a fourth son who was named after his father and late brother as well as doubled with another name for himself, Giovanni Cesare Morosini.

#Giulia Morosini #Giovanni Morosini #Felicita Ludovici #Sylas Ludovici #Osana Morosini #Orsa Morosini #Orelia Morosini #Leonardo Ludovici #Giuliano Morosini #Veniera Ludovici #Tala Ludovici #Olivia Morosini #Giovanni Cesare Morosini #The Carlisle Chronicles #Decades Legacy Challenge #tw death mention #tw infant death #cw death mention #cw infant death #1661 #1660s #ts4

[casitafallz]

Isabela hadn't meant to almost kill her little sister.

yet all it took was a small argument to burst the dam Isabela had kept away. Enough to bring everything Isabela had built to the floor. Enough that Abuela wouldn't look at her without shame, that Luisa was hesitant to leave her alone with anyone, the anger Camilo gave her and the tenseness of her tio...the cracking thunder of her Tia...

Would they ever forgive her? Would they let her drown in her regret or pull her out of it? Would she forgive herself?

Chapter 33 snippet

“Portillo?”

“Si, that’s my maiden name. I took the Rojas name when I married your grandfather.” She shrugged, “my family wasn’t impressed but I was happy.” She exhaled deeply, turning the page back to the wedding photograph with a passive sense of sadness, but acceptance of it as well. “You know, this photograph was taken a few days before we had to flee and I was about… seven months pregnant with your Tio, Dante Rojas.”

“I have a Tio?”

Abuelita shook her head. “No, he…died shortly after his birth. Our escape caused me to fall into early labor.” She exhaled deeply, “I didn’t know I was pregnant at the time and… he was born too premature.”

#encanto #encanto au #infant death mention tw #lest the rot lingers au #isabela madrigal #luisa madrigal #mirabel madrigal #julieta madrigal #agustin madrigal #agustín madrigal #pepa madrigal #felix madrigal #camilo madrigal #dolores madrigal #antonio madrigal #bruno madrigal #alma madrigal

[writing-good-vibes]

and all my hope is gone

vincent thinks about how he ended up here. inspired partly by sol's art (as always), particularly the contrast between the second and third portraits. the grandeur vs. the ugly truth. also this art by @/nerdonpluto69 of the most perfectly unhinged vincent. plus this piece of commentary courtesy of @/visceravalentines: "#there was no dramatic revenge killing just a sick bed and suffering and she sucked the life out of them til the end"

WARNING for brief or passing mentions of infant death, child abuse, suicide, depression and terminal illness.

Vincent isn't totally sure when things started falling apart.

He could hazard a guess at the day they were born. But that isn't quite it. No, the day they were born was a day full of pain and suffering, there's no deny that. Everyone thought the twins wouldn't make it, and sometimes Vincent wonders if that wasn't the way it was supposed to turn out. But no. Even amongst their mangled birth, there was a slither of hope, just as there always is when a new life -- lives -- claws its way into the world.

The next logical point to consider for their downfall is the first time their mama hit Bo. He'd had another tantrum, worse than any that came before but one which would soon be eclipsed, again and again. Mama had had enough. Vincent hears the slap, the firm sound of a palm on a cheek, rather than witnesses it. Bo doesn't speak for three days after that. Simply nods or shakes his head when their parents ask him questions. His father isn't happy about it, but its better than the screaming. Coincidently, that was also the day mama finished making Vincent's first mask.

Years pass by after that, and the next milestone in their lives is the day their daddy killed himself. Bittersweet was the brain matter splattered over the paintwork. Bo found daddy. Vincent found Bo, on his knees and letting out a sobbing laugh. Maybe it had been a fork in the road, rather than another step in their descent. The King was dead; Long Live the Queen.

Or not. Perhaps it was their mama's death that drove them down. The long, slow agony of it all. The endless, restless nights. The morphine. How the end came not in an act of revenge but in an act of mercy from above. The Queen is dead; Long Live the Kings.

Vincent watches the town from an upstairs window in the House of Wax. He's painted this scene before, the quaint little town he was born and raised in. The truth is in the detail. It's in the cracked sidewalks and the dirty looks. In the way that no one could ever make enough money to get out, in long shifts at the mill and in the silhouette against the midday sky of the crane that was building the interstate road.

The wax windowsill is sticky with dust. There are grooves where Vincent has rested his elbows in the same way for years. He ought to fix it, he thinks. Instead he pulls himself away retreats back down the stairs.

Stopping in the museum lobby, he looks around. Looks at his work. Stares into the screaming eyes of his creations. Kneels before the Mural. Kneels before the bodies at his mother's feet. Gazes upon himself and Bo, carved into the very walls of the House. This is about as close to eternity as they'll ever get. Bo's told him before not to make him into one of them. Eventually, Vincent stands again.

Down in the workshop, he still thinks about it. About all the little things that got him here. Vincent knows it isn't as simple as their birth, or their abuse, or their father's suicide or their mother's illness. They survived all of that.

The truth is far more mundane. Dropping out of college, being laid off, sexual frustration, the interstate being built, reclusivity, funeral costs, embalming, burnout, second chances, wasted time, art work, crime and punishment, death.

And now his life was so far removed from what it once was, he can barely remember what it felt like to be a player on the stage. Now he's a spectator to his own life, watching as the blade slices and the wax melts and his art is better than ever.

And it only cost him everything.

#vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #house of wax 2005 #house of wax #sinclair twins #slashers #slasher community #tw suicide mention #tw child abuse mention #tw infant death mention #tw terminal illness mention #this city's cold and empty

[hekateinhell]

7 and/or 18 💖

7. Which part of writing do you struggle with most?

answered here!

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

This was one of the ones I was scared to get lol but I'll try! Don't get me wrong, flattery gets you everywhere with me but actually picking out something that *I* like from my own fics? Can't think of a thing tbh, so I went with the scene that's been the hardest one for me to write so far - just because the content is pretty heavy (for me), and it took a few changes and rewrites to get to where I was satisfied with it as a plot device.

(Our House, Chapter 3 spoilers)

Armand and a girl; maybe seventeen, eighteen years old. Beautiful, high Slavic cheekbones, smudged eyeliner accenting her light blue eyes, dark hair. Armand halfway behind her, his hands cupping her bare tits, fake vampire fangs in his mouth, his head turned slightly to mimic biting her throat.

"Eleni," Armand said.

And Lestat, he's there too. He's taking the selfie, pupils blown wide, his cheek pressed to the girl's head, blond hair everywhere, an arm going around her head to rest his hand on Armand's shoulder. Not inherently sexual, more familial than anything, the three of them laughing; a teen's photo for fun and mild shock value.

[So this was where I had to decide how exactly I wanted Armand to present the history of his relationships with his ex-girlfriend and Lestat to Daniel. We get a bit more from Armand's POV later, but it doesn't really expand beyond what we're shown here. This is what's relevant to Armand right now, and this is what he wants Daniel to know. The rest will come later (when I decide what the hell "the rest" is). One of the best writing tips a friend gave me is: even if you're writing from just one person's POV, you need to know what the other people in the scene are thinking.]

Armand passed the phone to him wordlessly, mentally checking out. Daniel could see it in the dimness of his eyes, in the tiredness of his shoulders. Emotional or chemical—something drug-induced? Daniel had no way of knowing.

[Concerned Husband Danny is my fave, this was one of his times to shine. I wanted to make sure he's hyperaware of Armand right now, not taking his eyes off him for a second.]

"Just like Paris."

"She's pregnant here," Armand reached up and tapped the screen. And, dear God, was that a great distraction or what?

[Oh shit! moment, hopefully for the reader and Daniel both.]

"Really?" Yours? went unsaid. Armand heard it anyway.

He nodded, barely. "We were so young... Just reckless, stupid street kids that had no way of knowing better. But I loved her, and she loved me."

[It was important to me that it's clear Eleni was a meaningful and formative romantic relationship in Armand's life, even though he's older and married to a man now. He's bisexual, and Eleni was truly his first love.]

"Is she still in France?" Daniel asked, perpetually curious to a fault. It was the reporter in him. He was an intelligent man, he'd already figured out the loaded implications behind a child Armand never mentioned to him before. Abortion, most likely, given how young they both looked.

"Eleni?" Armand arched an eyebrow, as if they'd been talking about anyone else.

Daniel nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, she is," Armand smiled in the empty way some people have a tendency to do, "Cimetière des Innocents.”

[My baby boy is broken inside, and I needed y'all to know that. Also, Les Innocents name-drop!]

Damn. "I'm sorry, love." It seemed to Daniel he was saying that a lot lately.

[By this point, it's already been a couple months of drama, and Daniel's gotten one bombshell aside from this one dropped on his head tonight. He's a saint of a man, but every person has a limit before they start burning out and idk if y'all noticed... but Armand in this fic... he's a lot, okay?]

Armand sighed, "Do you know what she said?"

Rhetorical question, and he continued, "She said it was a miracle, that it was God himself giving us a second chance. Telling us to clean up our act, get clean, find other ways to survive, to provide. And I believed it too."

[This part was weird for me because I was trying to tap into what a girl who'd been raised with a Catholic mentality might think. I never said Catholic, but clearly, she was religious to quite a degree and my mind went to Catholic. Kind of trying to channel the CoD fervor into something else here, and also pull stuff from my own life experiences.]

He sighed again, "We were just kids." Armand looked and sounded a lot like a kid just then.

He took a minute to lean against Daniel's arm, playing with the zipper on Daniel's hoodie. Up and down, up and down. Zip, zip, zip. "Well, I guess God changed his mind."

[I feel like Armand is such a classic C-PTSD case in almost every universe I write him. I mean- he is in canon! And reverting to child-like comforting behaviors when confronted with a stressor/trigger can sometimes be part of that, so I tried to have it come out here - as well as emphasize the fact that he feels secure enough around Daniel to act that way in front of him in the first place, instead of retreating into himself and/or masking.]

Daniel gently massaged the spot below Armand's ear, silently urging him to continue.

"The week she was supposed to give birth; it was June, it was so hot already. She went to see her father. She said she wanted him to know, the man who had abandoned his daughter to chase the drink. Oh, he was furious. The neighbors heard him screaming—calling her a whore, a sinner, a useless junkie."

[This one was hard, and unfortunately, it's a common enough scenario in real life. Some children just are unwanted and unloved, and they're treated that way. Definitely hurt to write.]

Armand paused for a breath, letting his head loll against Daniel's shoulder, pressed his face against Daniel's neck as if he wanted to feel his pulse against his skin. "He pushed her down a flight of cement stairs. She hit her head, Danny."

[Originally, I was going to have Eleni die by suicide after having a miscarriage, but just seemed much more potentially triggering to an audience since miscarriages are something many people do experience (though I definitely do tag). Ultimately, I just didn't think it was necessary to go that route to achieve a similar impact. As a writer, this one almost hurts me more because the difference is that in this version, she was excited for her baby and her future with Armand, their little family. She wanted to live!]

Daniel wrapped an arm around Armand's chest and pulled him close, tight enough to hurt. Not lovingly, to comfort, but with the instinctual urge to get him out of harm's way, too many years too late.

And now Daniel knew, or at least he thought did—the reason, or a reason, why. 

A reason Armand had taken such a keen, uncharacteristic interest in the preparations for Lestat and Louis's daughter.

A reason why "introducing" Armand and Lestat had had an outcome akin to throwing a jungle cat and a rabid dog together in a cardboard box. 

A reason behind Lestat and Armand playing Russian roulette now, as Daniel understood it. Using the needle to simultaneously reconjure and numb the memories of who they’d been once upon a time—Lestat, without expectations and responsibilities, wild and free; Armand, about to have a family for the first time in his tragic life, in the worst circumstances possible. 

And, finally, the reason Armand seemingly lost his mind and started begging him for a baby one arbitrary evening in June, out of the clear blue fucking sky.

[Listen... this fic was originally going to be a fluffy, mildly hurt/comfort two chapters. Suddenly, I had to come up with a decent enough reason for Armand to be going off the rails. This is what my brain gave me.]

Armand sat up and reached for the phone in Daniel’s hand, swiping to the left and handing it back to him.

"My only blood family," Armand murmured, touching a blurry ultrasound image on the screen that didn't especially look like anything at all. "A little girl," he smiled, sweet and subdued, the glow remerging only to fade from his eyes, confirming what he knew Daniel had already deduced, “who died along with her mother.”

[Can't lie, this is the one and only time I have ever cried over anything I wrote. I imagined what the baby looked like, if Armand ever got to see her or hold her. I named her. I'm so sad lmao I'm so sorry to end on this note. But this was actually interesting to remember, and I miss this fic in a way I haven't in a while, so thanks for the opportunity to ramble about myself I guess!]

#this was so self-indulgent i am embarrassed but also touched you asked lol all of you <3 #i apologize for typos i'm on tumblr to stay awake rn #warnings are for fic content #tw suicide mention #tw miscarriage #tw infant death #fic ask <3

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Somewhat based on this post

Summer of Angst Masterlist

Title from It’s Quiet Uptown from Hamilton

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If I Could Trade His Life For Mine

Three days ago, things were different.

Three days ago, Sophie was a mother to three children. Two beautiful little girls and the baby in her belly.

Three days ago, Gideon was telling everyone how excited he was to become a father for the third time.

Three days ago, they were happy. Everyone in the Lightwood home was happy.

But three days ago, something changed.

Sophie went into labor in the middle of afternoon, while simply drinking her tea. Something had been wrong, she’d known it right away.

It was too early, she wasn’t due for almost two more months.

And when her water had broken, it wasn’t water, it was blood. Strikingly bright against the lightly patterned carpet.

Something was wrong.

She labored for nearly two days, forty hours in total. The whole experience longer and more painful than she had felt before with Barbara and Eugenia.

The girls had been sent to stay with Henry and Charlotte, as Gabriel and Cecily had been busy enough to little Anna, who’d recently begun teething. And Charles was closer in age to the girls anyway.

It was by the twelfth hour that Gideon demanded she be transferred to the Silent City, fearful for her life and that of the babe in her belly. But the Silent Brothers refused, citing the reason to be it was too dangerous to move her now.

So Sophie had watched as Gideon stewed in his own worry from his place beside her. He had desperately tried to hide it from her, but she knew it was there.

But as she said, that was three days ago.

And after those forty long hours, a baby was finally born. A baby boy, small and blue.

He didn’t cry or scream as he came into the world, having already been dead long before he was born.

The heartbreak of that was hard to voice, to give birth to a dead baby.

Especially since she wasn’t even close to being finished.

It was barely ten minutes after the first baby that the midwife told her there was another one coming. Another baby boy.

He was small too, but not blue like his brother was. He too, didn’t cry, at least, not at first. It took him a minute but he cried and cried, proudly showcasing his small lung capacity with small squeaky cries.

Sophie and Gideon cried when their son was placed on her chest, whether it was from the relief of him breathing or from the grief of their lost boy, she didn’t know.

They named him Thomas, after her dear friend Thomas Tanner, who had died protecting the London Institute. It felt fitting to name their son after a fighter, since he would have a long fight ahead of him.

Which brings us to now, three days later. They had been brought to the Silent City shortly after Thomas’s birth, the three of them-Sophie, Gideon, and Thomas of course.

She didn’t know what had become of her other son, the one she called Philip in her head. She his body would be held in the Silent City, for a proper funeral later on. She hoped it wouldn’t become a double, but with how Thomas looked, she couldn’t be very hopeful.

He was a tiny little thing, with a head full of sandy colored hair-just like Gideon’s-and skin that was all but translucent. The short, shaky breaths her son emitted made Sophie want to break down into tears.

The Silent Brothers were doing everything they could to help him survive, but they didn’t give much hope to the parents, telling them to prepare for the worst.

Didn’t they know that the worst had already happened?

She was now content to sit here and watch every breath her son took, desperately praying that each one wouldn’t be his last.

Sophie jumped and tensed when a hand came to rest on her shoulder, only relaxing when she saw it was only her husband. Gideon was looking worse for wear, the bags under his eyes making the green in them pop brightly and contrast against his nearly-white pallor. He hadn’t slept since she’d gone into labor, maybe even before that. He’d been so stressed out lately, she had noticed; but had chalked it up to late night patrols or the fact that they had two children under the age of five.

But now she could see that the stress had been a combination of the two, coupled with the difficult pregnancy.

The stress now made worse by the loss of the Philip and the possibility of losing Thomas as well.

“Do you think he’ll make it?” she whispered to her husband, eyes still focused on their tiny son.

Sophie could hear Gideon swallow audibly from behind her, a nervous tick of his. “I think we should have faith in the Angel and in the Silent Brothers.”

“What if faith is not enough?”

“Then I don’t know, sweetheart. I really don’t know.”

They wasn’t meant to be cynical, Gideon’s words. He was merely speaking the truth, there wasn’t much they could do for Thomas besides sit and wait.

All Sophie knew is that she couldn’t lose another baby. It would break her.

“I can’t lose another, Gideon. I can’t.”

“I know.”

She couldn’t lose another Thomas.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before I go, I shall leave you all with another Boo meme:

#the infernal devices #the last hours #sophie lightwood #gideon lightwood #thomas lightwood #mentioned barbara and eugenia lightwood #tw premature baby #tw premature birth #tw infant death #tw stillbirth

[chaosclimber]

Ok, so I was gonna just shout this at @scribetiloa but nope. Gotta share this with more people because aaah.

Like. Even coming at things from a modern perspective, Hob Gadling losing his family in the 1600′s was tragic. 

But I saw this post today, and it made my think of Hob Gadling losing his family in context of the high infant mortality rate of the time. 

Hob Gadling, who had to have known that there was a damn good chance he was always going to have to bury his children young.

Hob Gadling, who realized exactly how well off he was in the late 1500's  ("this is what I always imagined Heaven to be like") and thought maybe, maybe he could hold onto a little bit of hope. Not that he would never bury his family, but that they would at least live a full, natural span of years. 

 Hob Gadling, who's seen countless men and women lose themselves to grief in his earlier years, being so sure that when the time came, he'd be able to continue.

But he doesn't expect the first truly difficult birth to take the mother as well as the child. But he still has young Robyn to cling to, so he can go on. For now, at least. Oh, he maybe drank more of an evening (just to get to sleep, you understand? Just so the bed doesn't feel so damn empty ), but he functioned. He was still a father, still providing. He even wrote, a little, tawdry things addressed to his Stranger. Nothing was ever good enough to escape being tossed in the fire like so much kindling, but it helped.

And Robyn grows up. And Hob can let out a sigh of relief. His boy has grown into his own prime, he can stop worrying so much. They've got enough money, he'll never have to worry about Robyn getting snatched up to go to war against his will, and there's none that are truly worth the fight so as to tempt the boy to serve anyway. Barring a freak accident, his boy has become a man and should well give him a grandchild in a handful of years.

Can you imagine what a shock it would be, once he's managed to hang onto that hope once more, to get the message? Too late to do anything about it. "There was a brawl. Your son is dead.” No wonder he falls so deeply into his own grief. No wonder he stays too long, long enough to kick up suspicion. It is a Greek tragedy of his own making, and his fatal flaw was what all will tell him is his greatest strength: unceasing optimism, almost to the point of self-delusion. Would it not have hurt less if he had remembered how pervasive Death is, if he had braced himself from the moment he'd become attached? Or...so he asks himself after. So he will, in fact, ask Death herself--she did check in with him, briefly, just after Robyn.

 She had no answer for him, only a question in turn. "Would they have wanted any less than the full measure of your love?"

#the sandman #Hob Gadling #tw infant mortality #tw grief #tw alcohol mention #....somewhere between meta and drabble #but it had to be said #Death visiting Hob is totally just my headcanon #Like #Of course she keeps an eye on him #she's trying to set him up with her brother

[quitealotofsodapop]

¿Wukong le dará un durazno de la inmortalidad a Macaque? Talvez ya no quiera perderlo de nuevo, o verlo envejecer como lo hiso con sus generales... Estoy llorando al escribir esto...tengo un nudo en la garganta talvez le cuente de sus temores, de como se arrepiente de haberlo matado... (He leído un fanfic en el que defendiendo a los peregrinos, termino matándolo por accidente, bueno si tomas esa ruta ;v; ) Que realmente lo ama y no es solo para estar con Xiaotian, y si al final rechaza su peticion... bueno el respetaria su opinion aunque le duela

"Will Wukong give a peach of immortality to Macaque? Maybe I don't want to lose him again, or see him grow old like he did with his generals... I'm crying as I write this... I have a lump in my throat, maybe I'll tell him about his fears, how he regrets having killed him... .(I've read a fanfic in which defending the pilgrims, I ended up killing him by accident, well if you take that route ;v; ) That he really loves him and it's not just to be with Xiaotian, and if in the end he rejects his request.. Well, he would respect your opinion even if it hurts."

I think it's like canon to the S4 special that Wukong already shared a Peach of Immortality with Macaque back when they were in the Brotherhood, also since I hc Macaque as having been another member of the Jade Palace staff - he's eaten them before.

If his and/or Wukong's immortality have been affected by not eating the Peaches (of there were 3 types; one for lightness, one for youth, one for agelessness) in a long time, or by Macaque dying in canon, then I could imagine Wukong having a crisis of: "Oh no. What if I'm immortal, but Macaque isn't?"

Macaque I feel would agree to eat a Peach just for his own closure, not wanting to leave Wukong alone for eternity + there's so many things for him to exprience. They would most likely end up in an eternal game of chicken on who will die/reincarnate first - neither wanting to leave the other alone. They apply the Hob Gadling approach to immortality: "Forever is a long time - but at least I have someone to share it with".

And yes Wukong feels emense guilt at being the one to take Macaque's life back during the time of the Pilgrims. And he feels terrifed of how the whole situation with raising MK/Xiaotian has caused them both to start aging. It's a big hurdle that both of them have to face together, like every couple.

#lmk au #lmk shadowpeach au #shadowpeach #the monkey king and the infant au #the monkey king and the infant #sun wukong #liu er mihou #six eared macaque #death mention tw #shadowpeach parental debuff

[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 #):

[brokenfoxproductions]

Timeline of my life wip

Links direct to my YouTube videos.

Birth - 1995

I was born in Chambersburg, Pennsylvania to a 20 year old alcoholic divorced nursing student and stripper, and a 31 year old divorced construction worker, mechanic, and dirt track race car driver who held antivaxxer and anti medical beliefs. I had twin older siblings who were 5 years older than me from my dad's ex wife. My parents were on and off and finally broke up when I was 6 months old, at which point my mom and I moved in with her parents.

As a baby, it was noted that I had very sensitive skin and often got eczema, I had a sensitive stomach and could throw up easily, and I struggled to learn how to walk. It was also noted that I learned how to talk very early.

Age 1- 1996

My mom is going to nursing school and drinking, her mother and father are mostly raising me. There is an incident during this time in which I am left unsupervised by my grandmother and I end up with hot potpourri oil in my eyes. My grandmother refused to take me to the hospital until after my mother got home several hours later and as a result I have permanent scarring on the surface of my eyes and I wear a very high glasses prescription as an adult. During this time my mom began her diagnostic process for late onset type 1 diabetes and psoriatic arthritis.

During this time I am still struggling to learn how to walk properly. I am still struggling with lots of skin issues and it is noticed by several people that I engaged in activities such as head banging, rocking, and other stims.

Age 2- 1997

Still being raised by mostly my grandparents while my mother is in school. Around this point my mom's older sister who was in school to become a child psychologist began taking interest in me.

At this point I could walk but I could not bend my knees. At one point during this time, I fell through a glass table at my dad's house and ended up with scarring above my right eye and on the side of my face.

Age 3- 1998

This year, I was the flower girl in my aunt's wedding, which she claims I ruined. Otherwise, I was still being raised mostly by my grandparents while my mom and I lived with them.

I have vague memories around this point of possible physical or sexual abuse, but it is very hard to remember specifics besides that it was a very tall white man with very large hands.

At this point I could walk but I could not bend my knees. and people began to notice that I had very strange looking, elongated digits and that I bruised very easily and my mom began asking my pediatrician if they thought I might have an autoimmune disorder or juvenile arthritis.

Age 4- 1999

My mom graduates nursing school at this point and we move to the Carlisle/Harrisburg area with her boyfriend. My mom begins working as a home nurse and I begin going to daycare. I experienced an incident in which my mother mixed alcohol with Ambien and I was woken up by a paramedic as she was rushed to the ER. There was an incident during this time in which I fell down a flight of steps and hit my head against a wall at the bottom which I believe caused a head injury, though my mother refused to take me to the hospital.

Around this summer is the first time whenever I remember being sexually abused by my next door neighbor/classmate/friend and his parents.

Around this point I was given my first x-ray of my legs in which it was determined that my knees had never been broken and the issue that I was having it seemed to be a soft tissue problem rather than a skeletal problem. At this point I was prescribed knee braces and crutches as needed. I experienced a very severe beesting allergy around this time, resulting in hospitalization.

Around this point I was diagnosed with ADHD inattentive type and ODD, as well as pica, an eating disorder which caused me to compulsively eat plastic, metal, and other inedible objects.

Age 5- 2000

I am still living with my mom and her boyfriend next door to my classmate in kindergarten and his parents, who are abusing me. My mom is still drinking heavily despite it causing problems with her blood sugars. I begin acting out in kindergarten, including hitting another child with a Barbie doll and purposely annoying the crap out of a boy in my class who is the son of a local dairy Farmer (Kyle Yorlets of the band Carverton).

I start experiencing severe joint pain on top of having my knees and ankles constantly pop out of socket. My doctors start suggesting and testing for juvenile arthritis but it comes back negative.

Age 6- 2001

At the end of my kindergarten year, we move. During the summer before my first grade year started, I was put on a stimulant for my ADHD and I began experiencing rapid cycling between severe suicidal depression and severely violent mania. At this point I began being tested and evaluated for bipolar disorder. My mom and one of her sisters were also diagnosed with bipolar disorder, my mom switched from insulin injections to an insulin pump for her type 1 diabetes, and my mom and I both began taking psychiatric medication for bipolar disorder. Around this time my mom broke up with the person she had been dating while I was in kindergarten and she began visiting my aunt in California, and during one of those vacations she met a friend of my uncle's and they began dating long distance.

By the time that 9/11 happened, I was dealing with my first psychosis and I was actively hallucinating on a daily basis and had attempted to take my life for the first time by jumping out of a third story window. Despite the fact that my dad was extremely against me being on psychiatric medication, I began being prescribed mood stabilizers and antidepressants, as well as atypical antipsychotics.

Age 7- 2002

My mom was still struggling with alcoholism. Around this time I was able to find a combination of medications that cleared up the majority of my mental health symptoms with the exception of depression and anxiety. My mom's long distance boyfriend moved in with us and began abusing my mom in front of me.

During my second grade school year, I was repeatedly and severely sexually abused by a classmate and friend who was expiriencing multiple forms of abuse at home. When I tried to tell my mom, she physically lashed out at me. When I told my special education teacher, he misunderstood and thought I was accusing him and yelled at me.

I was not getting physical health care at this time.

Age 8- 2003

In early 2003, prior to my 8th birthday, my mom's boyfriend forced us to move to Norfolk/Virginia Beach, VA. While there, I witnessed my mom being severely abused, I was neglected, and we lived in an unfinished house that had lice, fleas, and bedbugs. After 3 months there, my mom and I fled back to Pennsylvania, at which point I returned to the same school and my sexual abuse continued. At this point it escalated to being raped with a pocket knife, resulting in permanent internal scarring and vaginismus.

After moving back from Virginia my mom's ex-boyfriend broke into our house with a gun given to him by my aunt in California. I stopped him and made him sit down on our stairs while my mom called the police, during which point he told me his intention was to kill my mother in front of me. Afterwards I watched the police tase him while we were sitting in the back of a squad car.

The stress of being stalked and being in a domestic violence situation convinced my Mom finally to start attending alcoholics anonymous meetings so she could attempt to get sober, and she began making many friends in alcoholics anonymous and dating people who she met there as well.

Around this time, my school psychologist aunt began obsessing over me. I was over at her house constantly, she got me into piano lessons, and I began helping care for her dogs. I remember them giving me my first glass of wine during this time. I found out later that she was trying to get my mom to take me out of psychiatric care because she was friends with my psychiatrist and was afraid of the embarrassment of her friends and colleagues finding out she had family members who were mentally ill. I have more vague memories of abuse at this time with the same large man with large hands. I don't think it's a coincidence that my aunt and her 6'4" ex-military husband are always around and extremely involved around these foggy abuse incidents.

Age 9- 2004

I was living with my mom and her boyfriend and they quickly got engaged. My mom was not drinking. She was still being stalked and began working with advocacy organizations. She began working at a local emergency room.

I was acting out at school. I was found to have a high IQ and was put in the gifted program, but I heavily relied on the special education program as well.

I began menstruating and started expiriencing what I now understand to be dysphoria. I began self harming. I started trauma therapy. I began receiving treatment for my chronic joint pain, migraines, and muscle spasms/tics.

Age 10- 2005

My mom and her fiance broke up and she began talking to an EMT she met in AA. Around this time, my mom was still dealing with her ex stalking her, and she decided to go to law school to become a domestic violence advocate and began applying for law school programs.

Around this time I stopped going to daycare and I was expected to take care of myself after school. I began acting as a crossing guard at school and I began babysitting.

I started expiriencing severe muscle spasms and tics, ovarian cysts, and I began having symptoms of digestive bleeding.

Age 11- 2006

Around this time or shortly before, my mom let her EMT boyfriend move in with us and he began using my AOL account to look up CP and other illegal material, often showing it to me. I told my dad what was happening and he called child protection, but they did nothing. My mom punished me for the call to CYS but didn't kick her boyfriend out until she found the searches herself, at which point she kicked him out and got rid of the computer to avoid consequences, telling me that people finding out what he did would make her lose her nursing license and would prevent her from becoming a lawyer.

During this time, I began running away and my mom began kicking me out as well. I would often sleep in my local park, outside my school, or on the floor of friends' houses, but sometimes I would just walk around all night and sleep during school. I got my first long distance online boyfriend at this point.

I had my first seizure this year, resulting in a spinal tap procedure that went wrong and caused me to have a spinal cord injury, which resulted in mobility problems and nerve damage. My cysts and migraines got worse as well. I began taking opiate pain pills and drug seeking at local emergency rooms and quickly became addicted. I began physical therapy. I had my first endoscopy and colonoscopy this year.

Age 12- 2007

My behavior began getting worse in 6th grade. I was put in a different class than all my friends, and I was put in the same locker row as the guy who raped me with a knife in second grade. He attempted to grab my butt and chest without my consent, so I beat the crap out him, which caused me to be put in full time special education. He and his friends bullied me violently and relentlessly. I got my first in person boyfriend at that point.

I began developing binge eating and starvation tendencies. I began self harming daily. I began sneaking opiates into school so I could use when I was stressed out or after dealing with my former abuser and his friends. I came out as bisexual this year which caused more severe bullying.

I was expelled and put in an alternative school in a classroom with students aged 12-18. I was the youngest student in the whole school.

In February, I was admitted to a mental hospital for the first time, and on the way there, an EMT forced me to watch 2 girls 1 cup and I was left alone in an ambulance for an extended period at a rest stop. The EMTs from that transport were from the same agency as my mom's ex. During this time, my mom temporarily revoked her parental rights, but she took them back to avoid paying child support.

At one point during this time, I agreed to preforming sexual actions with my drug dealer in exchange for a bunch of Vicodin, but things went wrong and I ended up in the emergency room needing treatment for the aftermath of the incident. During this exam and treatment, the attending ER doctor discovered that I had extreme internal vaginal scarring and vaginismus, making it almost impossible to use a speculum and to treat the injury I was dealing with. Because I was taken to the ER my mom worked at, the incident wasn't reported to the authorities and I was punished by my mom before I could even try to explain what happened. I was kicked out of my house for a week without my phone.

On the last day of the school year, I went back to my old school and I sat down with the assistant principal and I told him why I had been fighting the kids who had bullied me. I admitted for the first time what my classmate did to me in second grade, and that I thought the boy involved was a danger to other students and he needed therapy. I was told that it wasn't the school or district's job to help me, him, or any other student who was expiriencing sexual abuse and that I needed to leave school grounds or I would be arrested for trespassing. I was told that I would be permanently banned from all schools in the district, meaning I could never transition back to normal school and I would never be allowed to go to prom with my friends. Doing so would get me arrested. This rule was maintained until I dropped out.

My boyfriend and I broke up and I began dating a boy I met online.

I was officially diagnosed with PTSD. I began expressing a desire to present androgynously, but I was convinced to lean into feminity instead, and I began experiencing extreme dysphoria.

Age 13- 2008

My mom took me to Disney World for my 13th birthday as a way to apologize for making me go to the hospital. I was hospitalized while there due to opioid withdrawal and a UTI. Our relationship did not improve.

Shortly after turning 13, my in person boyfriend broke up with me and I started dating a girl from my school, along with the guy I was seeing long distance. My girlfriend was a bit older than me and was also addicted to opiates and also self harmed, so we were very bad influences on each other. She was the first person I had consensual sex with.

On the fourth of July, my girlfriend told me she had been raped, so I attempted to walk 11 miles in the middle of the night to go see her. I ended up having a breakdown while walking past some cow pastures due to my PTSD and agoraphobia, and I curled up in a ball and called my dad for help. He came and got me, but he was extremely upset to learn that my boyfriend wasn't white and that I was also dating a girl. He called my mom and my boyfriend racist slurs and physically hit me. My mom later came and got me and he called her a racial slur to her face. I decided that I didn't want anything to do with my dad anymore.

I stopped taking my medication and I continued to get worse. I was hospitalized twice for self harm, and when I was told there would be a third time, I responded by splatter painting OPI I'm Not Really A Waitress red nail polish all over our bathroom before running out of the house barefoot and hiding in a tree. This resulted in a 4 month long mental hospital stay, after which I was put in a residential treatment facility in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. During this time, my mom again revoked her rights and put me in state custody for about 6 months.

Age 14- 2009

I stayed in the RTF from January 2009 to January 2010. During this time, I successfully hid my bulimia and opiate addiction. I was severely abused. I witnessed severe abuse. I witnessed human rights violations. I was physically attacked by a staff member.

I had so little respect for most of the staff and clients that I used this time to practice lying to people who would compulsively lie themselves to see what it took to be convincing. With the few people I was honest with, I found the best friends I could ever have.

My relationship with my mom worsened. I was extremely isolated during my home passes. I lost all my friends and my mom became obsessively controlling over me. I was not allowed to talk to anyone outside our family, with the exception being my long distance boyfriend. My mom began talking to me and him about us getting married when I turned 16 as a way for me to move out.

I left placement underweight, with pneumonia and influenza due to the horrible conditions there and my untreated ED. I had extremely low iron and potassium, and I was briefly hospitalized.

On my first day back to school, I was high on heroin after having been clean for several months and I reacted horribly. I refused to go back out of embarrassment. I tried another day at a different school, but the same thing happened. I was high, I flipped out, I refused to go back.

I spent 4 months in my house, only leaving to get drugs. I started My ex girlfriend and I got back together and she came over to my house several times. We used together a lot. I came out as a biromantic lesbian.

I self harmed daily and my ED was rampant. I began obsessing over my left leg, left pinky finger, breasts, and nose and I hyperfixed on the idea of amputating my leg and finger, getting top surgery, and getting a nose job. I began allowing myself to be sexually exploited, making art, doing online gig work , and selling stolen items to pay for my addiction. My ex and I eventually broke up due to her and her sister being abusive towards me and stalking me online. Around this time, I first messaged "Dick", my oldest child's biological father, on myspace after meeting him through an older classmate. He is 8 years older than me, making him around 22 when we began talking online, but we weren't close at this point.

I was diagnosed with agoraphobia, OCD, sensory processing disorder, BIID, bulimia, BDD and c-PTSD. My doctors thought I had an autoimmune disorder and told me that "between addiction and illness, you won't live to see 18."

Age 15- May 2010

On my 15th birthday, my mobile therapists and my mom screamed in my face that I was useless and they hated me, so I attempted to take my own life. I ended up having my heart stop temporarily, I received a blood transfusion, and I received a type of skin graft called a strata graph. I experienced a NDE while my heart was stopped.

During the 3 weeks in which I bounced between the mental hospital and CHOP, my mom revoked her parental rights. My dad didn't want to take me, so I was put in a juvenile detention center under the guise of "shelter placement". I was attacked by staff and they destroyed my skin grafts. After being rehospitalized, I spent time in two additional youth shelters and temporary foster homes before being placed with an older black couple who were originally from Philly.

They were the best parents I could ever ask for and I really thrived, attempting repeatedly to get clean, until they found out that I had slept with girls before, at which point they became homophobic and abusive and I relapsed a final time. My biological mother regained her rights and we began reunification. I began attempting to get a piercing apprenticeship.

I broke up with my long distance boyfriend and started dating a boy from my school, "Johnny". He cheated on me our entire short relationship, and he was also struggling with an addiction, albeit to inhalants. I tried to have sex with him, but I was unable to due to my vaginismus. I gave him permission to lie that I took his virginity so neither of us would be embarrassed, and we broke up.

During this time, I was still using heroin and I was struggling to afford my habit. In April 2011, I owed my dealer $150 and I begged him for another IOU, and he offered me a free sample of a "new kind of heroin", and I accepted. I shot up in the kitchen, with him next to me, and I blacked out. I woke up on his bedroom floor with various bodily fluids on me and I realized it had been 4 hours. I walked out and there were 5 or 6 guys smoking and playing video games in the living room, and they were acting weird. I was told that my debt was settled. That was the last time I abused opiates, because I didn't have another dealer and I was afraid of it happening again, and I was afraid he would kill me.

A few days before my 16th birthday, I went to planned Parenthood to get my depo shot and discovered that I was pregnant. I went into shock and left, lying to my foster mom that I had to reschedule my shot because they had accidentally scheduled me for a different type of appointment and couldn't do it.

I told my ex and friends I was pregnant and "Johnny" immediately accused me of lying to try to trap him. He reacted very badly and didn't let me explain, so out of spite and because I didn't want to admit the reality of the situation, I started saying it was his to piss him off more.

At this point I came out as pansexual and came out to myself as non-binary, though I did not come out publicly due to my safety.

Age 16- 2011

I chose to hide my pregnancy from my family and foster family and I started saving money for an abortion, thinking that telling someone about it would ruin my chances of reunification. During this time my mom got a new boyfriend from AA, so I was being extremely careful to stay on her good side.

I went to planned Parenthood in June, having to walk past protestors who screamed at me. When I got into the appointment, they did an ultrasound and discovered that I was about 10 weeks pregnant with identical twins, and there was evidence of twin to twin transfusion syndrome. I was told that the pregnancy wasn't viable, it was too late for a medication abortion, and that I would need to travel to Reading and pay almost double for a surgical procedure.

I decided to let the pregnancy progress and continue to hide it, hoping that I would miscarry without issues. I was struggling with withdrawal since stopping heroin cold turkey, and I was still actively struggling with bulimia, so I wasn't gaining weight. I had bleeding and clotting about a week and a half after the appointment and I assumed I was no longer pregnant.

I transitioned home, but by the end of the summer I realized that I was still not menstruating and I was gaining weight. I went to an emergency room in September, and I was told that I was still pregnant.

In mid September, my mom and her boyfriend went on a vacation and I didn't have a working phone. I purged after dinner, and I began feeling sharp pains in my stomach and my water broke. I tried to take a shower but ended up going into active labor in the tub. I was in labor for over 12 hours, but at the end, there was no chance of viability. I managed to get a friend to take me to the hospital the next day, and I brought the remains with me and asked the doctors how to go about getting it cremated. The doctors called me "disgusting" and were really horrible towards me.

I told my mom what happened when she came home a few days after and showed her my hospital discharge papers but she didn't believe me. I attempted to take my own life and was hospitalized.

After leaving the hospital, I discovered that my best friend had taken her own life while I was in the hospital. I responded by taking 30 sleeping pills and being hospitalized again.

After that, I was home a week before my mom had me involuntarily committed out of the blue despite me finally trying to get to a better place, so she and her boyfriend could elope without leaving me home alone. She called me after their wedding and thanked me for "going along with the plan". I wasn't aware there was a plan.

After that, I began abusing sleeping pills and I eventually accidentally overdosed again, and my mom used this opportunity to revoke her parental rights while I was in the hospital. I was referred to rehab, but my dad chose to take me home instead despite us not having a relationship and me not wanting to go with him.

I moved in with my dad, getting to know my older brother and his wife and step kids. I discovered that my brother and my dad were taking cocaine on a regular basis to keep up with their job schedule. My dad behaved very erratically and made my life a living hell because of this. He would get high and get physically abusive, he made comments about wanting to have a threesome with me and one of his female friends because he knew that I was openly pansexual, he forced me to stop taking my mental health medication and then abused me as punishment for the symptoms that I could not control, and he beat the shit out of me whenever he found out that I had been up to date on all of my vaccinations, especially HPV. He also very closely controlled what I was allowed to wear including how I was allowed to do my hair and jewelry, and what parts of my body I was allowed to shave and how I was allowed to shave certain areas.

I only live there a few months before my dad got high on cocaine and punched me in the face, breaking my glasses. I left and walked to the local Walmart to ask if they would fix my glasses and I began crying, so they called my mom and the police.

My mom and her husband came and got me and it was decided that I would stop school and focus on getting a more consistent piercing apprenticeship and my GED. My GED prep instructor was one of the first people to suggest I get evaluated for a mathematics disorder and autism spectrum disorder. I started smoking cigarettes.

Age 17- 2012

My mom and her husband started treating me like an adult. I was doing well in treatment and I regained my social life. I began coming out to friends as non-binary.

I reconnected with a friend from Elementary school ("Andy") who I'd always had a crush on and we went on a date. I took a Klonopin beforehand, and even though I was in recovery and I had never smoked cannabis before, I smoked it with him and his friends. I had a really bad reaction to taking both of these together, but I remember what happened.

I was all over him and I had sex with him, making it the first time I was able to have consensual vaginal sex, but one of my internal scars reopened and I began hemorrhaging on my walk home.

My phone wasn't working, but my mom eventually found me and took me to the hospital, demanding they do a rape kit. The first hospital refused so we went to a second, at which point a rape kit was done without my consent and my mom threatened to give up her parental rights again before being talked out of it. I had to receive internal stitches. Andy was arrested, not for the supposed rape but because he was on the run and avoiding placement. While in placement, he revealed that he was diagnosed with POCD or pedophilic obsessive compulsive disorder, and I was naively supportive because I believed that his diagnosis wasn't the same thing as him being an actual pedophile.

Around this time I began planning to run away to Italy with someone I met online to marry her friend, and I began dating a 27 year old behind my Andy's back, though we didn't sleep together before Andy came home from placement and I focused on him. I was just looking for a way to get out of my situation.

On the anniversary of my best friend's suicide, I tattooed her initials on my own wrist. I got my first professional tattoo shortly after.

In December of 2012, my dad died from a heart attack. He was found next to cocaine and paraphernalia for shooting up. I temporarily moved in with family and I reconnected with my extended family and my brother and sister. After my dad's funeral, I really tried to become friends with my sister despite her being extremely abusive, but eventually I was forced to cut her off after she and her girlfriends jumped me and forced me to stay up for 24 hours straight after they believed I had stolen my sister's pills, despite the medication being something that I'm allergic to and if I had taken them, I would have had anaphylaxis.

Andy got home from placement and we started dating on and off in person, but he treated me really badly. With him, and while talking with a therapist, I started discovering how I was able to be physically intimate with people.

Age 18- 2013

I got my GED shortly after turning 18. I scored a 99% in all subjects except math, in which I barely passed.

Shortly after turning 18, while Andy and I were broken up, I found out I was pregnant again. I begged for him to take me back but he wouldn't, and shortly after we discovered that I had a missed miscarriage, which resulted in an infection. I needed a surgical procedure to remove the remnants of the pregnancy because I was unable to dilate due to previous damage.

Around this time, I lost my insurance and my mom started kicking me out for short periods. I began doing fetish modeling and other sex work for money. I was repeatedly sexually assaulted during this time. I would couch hop or sleep outside.

I lost 60% of my hearing in my left ear due to an infection. I was bit by a tick while on a walk with "Dick", with whom I'd begun casually sleeping with. I later discovered this tick infected me with Lyme disease.

Once winter hit, my mother decided to kick me out permanently and arranged for me to go to a homeless shelter. The day before I was supposed to go, I found out that I was expiriencing another miscarriage, despite not knowing I'd been pregnant. I responded by attempting to take my own life, but I still went to the shelter the next day.

I was in the shelter and dating Andy, "Johnny", and Dick on and off for awhile until Andy was arrested for raping his nieces, aged 11 and 13. I responded by getting into a fight with him and biting a chunk out of his arm. "Johnny" and I reconnected for a little while but he was still involved with an older woman who was extremely controlling of him and who encouraged his addictions in order to keep him around, so I eventually just stopped talking to him.

Age 19- May 2014

I agreed to move into a 4th story apartment above the homeless shelter that I was living in, despite it not having an elevator and my motor skills and mobility noticably worsening. I spent many nights with friends to avoid going up the stairs to my apartment.

My apartment building was full of black mold, so I was hospitalized for a week with pneumonia after a few months of being there. During this time, my sister and I reconnected after she heard from our grandmother that I was in the hospital. Upon returning from the hospital, I was talking to my sister on the phone while going up through the building to my apartment, and during that conversation I had come out to her as non-binary and pansexual. Several minutes after I got off the phone with her and I was changing my clothes, my landlords used their keys to open my door and immediately started yelling about my genitalia and making transphobic comments. Apparently they had heard my conversation with my sister from their office on the second floor, and they decided to use it against me. Upon leaving my doorway, they went down the hallway to the door of my neighbor, who was a trans woman, and they treated her in a similar manner. This happened on a regular basis the entire time I lived there.

Towards wintertime, an incident happened in which a friend of mine backed over my right ankle with a motorized shopping cart at Walmart and tore the majority of the tendons in my right ankle. I was put in a boot for 8 weeks and discussions about surgery were had, but before we could decide anything, I became unilaterally paralyzed on my right side and I was hospitalized. At first everyone thought I had a stroke, but I was diagnosed with Lyme disease, which caused a kind of Bell's Palsy. I was put on IV antibiotics and began physical therapy in the hospital, which I continued for a year after. It took a week for me to move well enough to be discharged but I was in a wheelchair for awhile and I wasn't able to completely walk again for a few months, and to this day I have some difficulties with my right side (it affects my facial expressions, speech, motor skills, and ability to write and type).

After being discharged and beginning treatment for everything related to the Lyme disease I started seeing a neurologist who looked at my history and realized that I had something else going on besides Lyme disease. During her first meeting with me she had me take off my shoes and she looked at my hands and feet, she had me look to the side and she looked at the whites of my eyes, and she had me do the Beighton test. That was the first point that I ever heard the term Ehlers-danlos syndrome, which began opening up a new level of understanding of all of my health issues throughout my entire life.

"Dick" and I began dating a little more exclusively, but he was physically and sexually abusive when I was recovering from paralysis, and I eventually realized he was cheating on me with his best friend's girlfriend, so I attempted to take my own life. At the hospital after this happened, I was told that I was pregnant and it was more than likely unviable. I miscarried a few weeks later, right before Christmas.

I spent New Years having sex with a married man I met that day, who a girl friend of mine had introduced me to that day. I truly stopped giving a fuck and began just dating around and sleeping around outside of my job as a sex worker. I began drinking heavily and helping my friends plan parties. I basically was just so tired and freaked out by all of the events of the past year that I just was acting as though I wasn't going to have another day.

Shortly before my 20th birthday, "Dick" and his new girlfriend went to a party that I had planned at a mutual friend's house, and during the party it became very clear that things were very close to ending with the girl that he had cheated on me with. She was behaving absolutely horribly towards him and was making everyone there very uncomfortable. Meanwhile, he and I began talking and I gave him the understanding that if we got back together we would be exclusive and he would not be messing around behind my back, and that any and all abusive behavior would cause me to leave. He agreed and we got back together.

Age 20- May 2015

Age 21- May 2016

Age 22- May 2017

Age 23- May 2018

Age 24- May 2019

Age 25- May 2020

Age 26- May 2021

#trauma #childhood trauma #ptsd #cptsd #wip #trauma timeline #timeline #life timeline #tw violence #tw abuse #tw cp mention #tw death #tw infant death #tw pregnancy loss #tw sa #tw drugs #tw sui attempt #tw ed mention #tw inc*st #tw medical discussion #tw child abuse #physical disability #mental health recovery #broken fox productions #Pennsylvania

[moon-mistress]

oh no I got an oc idea and I got attached already 😩

she's a high elf, Mélusine, a cleric/paladin of Kelemvor, who has, like, truly a devotion to the idea of peaceful death, to the concept of death being so universal it can only be a blessing, to the comfort of your hand being taken, your struggles being over, of death as fairness for all and a companion and never being alone or confused in death and after-life.

This young elven woman who fell in love with a human, a short lived human who shared his whole life with her despite age and lungs sickness, and seeing him struggle to breath, up until that very last moment– and his last breath was so soft and light and peaceful and she knew he was in Kelemvor's hands, she knew he was safe.

And their unborn baby, and how they loved her, and how she came to full term, as if Kelemvor blessed them with her stay as long as he could, and then took her with a promise to never let her know pain.

And the medallion Mélusine wears, with a picture of a smiling, adoring aged man, and a tiny lock of blonde baby hair.

and how she falls in love with a human again, slow and tentative and soft, and how ready he is to die, and how it breaks her heart

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #for quick mention of gale's storyline #gale romance #oc: melusine #tw infant death #i dont know if thats the right term but it incapsulates it well? #anyway i have feelings now ;; #i havent even dinished my first playthrough yet #*clench fist*

[thestressedsimmer]

Despite the fact that her heart was shattered by losing her daughter, Elanor still had a little boy to take care of. Today he was becoming an infant and she was not going to allow him to be neglected because of the devastating loss.

Even at his young age, he probably felt it more strongly than any of them. She was his twin.

#tw: infant death mention #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #sims 4 ultimate decades challenge #ultimate decades challenge #udc #morbid's ultimate decades challenge #windenberg #1314 #1314 windenberg #despenser family