I fall under these. I’ve made artworks for each losses.
Many women suffer in silence from such a traumatic event.
You are not alone. Break the stigma.
Spread the word.
Remember us.
Pregnancy loss isn’t “oversharing”. We’ve lost a part of us and family. Such a traumatic event in our lives that other people could share about their loved ones dying.
Our babies died, too. They’re valid to us.
Let’s stop shaming women for sharing their stories.
Featured in this painting are plants/herbs which have been used throughout history as abortifacients, because as long as we have known how, we have been ending unwanted pregnancies. We now live in world where there are safe methods of abortion and preventing access to these services will not stop abortion, it will only stop safe abortion. Free, safe and legal access to reproductive healthcare is a human right for everyone, everywhere.
Tags:User discretion is advised. MDNI, hurt, heavy angst, mentions and descriptions of miscarriage, stalking, emotional abuse, vivid imagery about miscarriages, trophy wife, runaway wife, hiding, strong language, slight yandere themes, panic attacks, grabbing, mentions and descriptions of sex, regret, mentions of Emma, mentions of divorce, one-sided love, a desperate Hanma, brief moments with Kisaki, too many messy emotions in general
Damn. This took hell lot of time ngl (╥﹏╥) It was worth it tho. I took almost three months to complete this because of all my exams and tests in between and was busy balancing my own schedule and concentrating on making myself better. I really hope y'all like it. I felt like I went overboard with the crying here and there but that is justified, afterall, after what Y/n was put through. This the last and final part btw. Enjoy! I’ll link a smol playlist I made for this. Listen to it in order, music makes the reading experience way better, trust me.
|Part 1 | Part 2 | Playlist | Asks about Affliction are open |
By the time Hanma had collected his bearings, leaving the mansion in pieces as the aftermath of his shock, he notices the blue crockery set on the table, laden with food.
He’s shocked.
After some examining, he realises that there was food, and lots of it, and by judging the copious number of boxes in the refrigerator, there was enough to last for one week.
He doesn’t know what to feel.
Guilt eats him alive.
“What have I done?”
He asks himself, repeating the sentence like a broken record.
Hanma sinks to his knees, hands clutching at his head, as the taste of tears register to his tongue.
The only person who stayed constant for the longest time was gone.
Just like that.
Like the first flash of thunder; beautiful in its own fearful way.
The onslaught of emotions he felt at the reality of the circumstances catching upto him was overwhelming. Overwhelming as the events of the day he lost everything grip his mind.
This was the first time he was being frank with himself. The first time he let himself to feel, to kneel on the ground and finally let out the tears which needed to fall. To finally let himself feel the weight of the loss, to revel and bathe in the pain.
To let the burn of abandonment reduce him to the ground and feel what he loved to inflict upon others.
To finally let her see what was underneath the mask of indifference he’d lived under his whole life.
But the thing was, she wasn’t here.
She wasn’t. And by the way her voice seemed to break more and more with each word on the recording…she wouldn’t ever look back.
