#my uterus is shattering

[lavendel081]

Might as well post Wips of the next episode here

[gloomwitchwrites]

141 with a fem!reader who instead of not wanting kids can’t have kids?

This is a popular request, anon. I've had several submissions from various users. Since the theme/idea is similar, I thought I would combine them into one.

Heavy angst ahead, folks. I decided not to sugarcoat with this one. It's heartbreaking. It's sad. And yes, there is comfort and love mixed in.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, angst, infertility, pregnancy, miscarriage, mention of surgical procedure, emotional hurt/comfort, implied abortion/d&c, minor blood

Word Count: 900

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

This time, it sticks.

Somehow.

Miraculously.

After years of struggling, of being told it would never happen, of false results and shattered hopes—it’s happening.

You’d be in denial if it wasn’t for the test results in your hand. It is solid, a print out of what your doctor told you over the phone.

John stands next to you, reading the piece of paper over your shoulder. His shoulders are riddled with tension, lips a thin line. It’s clear that he wants to join in on your joy, but something holds him back.

“Are you happy?” you ask, suddenly nervous.

“I am—I.” John clears his throat. “But last time?”

Last time looked just like this. Last time everything was fine—until it wasn’t. Until the blood and the pain and the hospital visit.

“It might not be like last time.”

John gently grasps the sides of your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “You don’t have to. Not for me. Not for anyone.”

“It’s okay, John.”

“Are you sure?”

You nod, and John places his lips to your forehead. “I worry.”

“I know,” you murmur, turning your face into his touch. “But you’re here. And that’s all that matters.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

It all has to go. All of it. There is too much damage.

No uterus. No fallopian tubes. No ovaries.

Gone. All of it. Gone.

Johnny sits next to you on the sofa, his head in his hands. His sigh is heavy as he rubs at his face. When he comes up for air, you know his world is shattered, just likes yours.

“The surgeon said they might be able to save some eggs.” Even you don’t believe the words leaving your mouth. It’s a farce.

“Might?” asks Johnny.

“They won’t know until they’re actually inside.”

Johnny is oddly silent. It’s not like him to be quiet.

“Are you upset?” you ask, tentatively.

“No,” he says sharply. “Not with you. Never with you.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, because an apology feels right but you’re not sure why you’re doing it at all.

Johnny places his hand on your knee, squeezing gently. “For what?”

Tears pool, threatening to spill over. “For not being enough.”

He leans in, face serious. “The fact that you think that at all means I’ve failed you. That I haven’t loved you enough.”

“Johnny.”

He draws you in. “This doesn’t make you less worthy of my love.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

A heartrate monitor beeps nearby. They’ll release you soon now that you’re awake and aware.

It’s all coming back in pieces.

You remember the cramping, the spotting, and then the bleeding that wouldn’t stop. You remember the cold linoleum floor against your cheek, of losing consciousness, of gaining it again only for the room to spin. You remember how cold you were, and Simon’s hands—of how his voice cracked when he said your name.

You don’t recall the trip to the hospital. You only remember how Simon demanded help while the staff told him he needed to calm down.

But he’s here now—and no one is yelling. He sits in a chair next to your hospital bed, face grim and skin pale like he hasn’t slept in days.

There have almost always been complications—always been issues while trying to conceive, but of those that have ended, it’s never been like this.

You turn your head, and as if sensing you, Simon glances up from his silent musings. You offer your hand. Simon takes it, and though he doesn’t squeeze hard, you feel the desperation in the way he clings to you.

“I’m not risking you. Never again.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Your friend opens the gift, presenting it to the gathered crowd. Everyone fawns over the set of baby blankets. There are several in total, all pale pastels.

You smile and agree that it’s a wonderful gift. Outwardly, everything is fine. Internally, your mind is still at home, lingering on the four pregnancy tests hidden in the bathroom bin beneath a pile of toilet paper.

Each one negative. Each one a glaring stain on the long list of failures.

Kyle emerges from the kitchen with the father-to-be, a massive grin on his face. This baby shower is a reminder to you of all your shortcomings. For Kyle, this is hope—a vision of the future.

And you haven’t told him. Haven’t said a word about those four negative tests.

How many years of trying now?

But you’re still young.

Don’t stress about it.

It’s so easy for others to stick their nose in, which is why you don’t share anymore.

Kyle plops down next to you. The happiness there is palpable, so thick it’s almost like butter on the tongue. You’re going to shatter it—hurt him yet again.

He presents his hand, palm upward.

You snatch it like a lifeline, and squeeze—hard. Kyle frowns at your entwined fingers. His gaze sweeps upward.

In your friend’s hands is a onesie for a newborn. Everyone coos, and something in you breaks. You’re smiling, but you sense the threatening tears.

Kyle’s frown shifts to a sad smile.

He knows. You don’t have to say anything.

Lifting your joined hands, Kyle brings the back of your palm to his lips. Placing a quick kiss there, he then kisses your forehead. He adds another kiss to spot just behind your ear.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s okay.”

No one is watching.

“I love you.”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[theyanderespecialist]

Base Yandere Aphrodite Headcanons: And She Took That Personal! (Greek Mythology)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am finally back with a new God/Mythology Video! This one is of Base Yandere Aphrodite from Greek Mythology!!! Please enjoy this!]

(DISCLAIMER: This is Based on Aphrodite from Myth, she most likely is not Yandere in canon! This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine. Just do not be illegal or gross about it! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon!)

-Base Yandere Headcanons with Aphrodite, From Greek Mythology-

.Aphrodite is the Goddess of Sexual beauty. 

.There is not a man she cannot get, there are also a lot of women she cannot get. 

.She can easily invoke lust and desire. 

.Then there is you, the second human to steal her heat. 

.You are different from the human man that she fell in love with all those years ago. 

.You are a stunning creature beyond words! She needs to have you as hers and hers alone. 

.She is beyond smitten with you and knows that you and she will have fruitful children, may you be a uterus owner she will get the best godly sperm for you. If you are in the possession of balls she will bear your seed. 

.Either way, you and her will have godly offspring. 

.She is also going to do what it takes to woo you. 

.Very romantic outings with you, where she makes her desires for you very VERY clear. 

.She of course knows you will want her, I mean come on she is the goddess of beauty, sexual love, pleasure, and fertility what more could you want? 

.She like many other gods, is obsessive and possessive. 

.She would not want to share you at all! 

. Especially with no mortal. 

.And with Aphrodite if you were with a mortal woman? She would take that as a personal insult. 

.She is the Goddess of love and beauty and pleasure. What could some mortal woman give you that she cannot? 

.She is also one of your more vain and jealous goddesses. This is one of the biggest reasons that the whole Trojan War was started. 

.So she would take you being with someone other than her, male or female, but especially female as the biggest insult. 

.But do not worry you are her sweet little pet, she would never take this anger out on you! 

.Your lover though? Well remember all the things the Greek gods have done to women and men but mainly women (Yeah she is going to make your lovers suffer beyond words) 

.Turning them into horrific things and maybe even getting animals involved. 

.She does not care she is not sharing with any rivals, she is your Goddess and you will be hers and ONLY HERS. 

.She is particularly aggressive, petty, and vengeful with her female rivals, making them suffer the biggest humiliation and pain! 

.She has to shatter them. 

.She would confess to you after probably killing her rivals taking you close and kissing you. 

.If you kiss back and accept her love well you will be made into some immortal and will stay by her side for the rest of time. 

.If you turn her down? She will have to kidnap you and punish you, you should not be better than to turn down a literal Goddess, especially when that Goddess has given you her heart! 

.Do not worry she will break that spirit of yours and teach you that she is all that you need and that you will be much happier with her. 

.Whether you wanted it or not! 

.She would also use sex as a way to tame you, manipulating her skills in the bedroom. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Another chapter is done! I hope that you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[xhoneygirlxx]

he's not magic

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: the time of the month has come and Eddie is the only person who can sooth you.

warnings: talks about menstrual cycles/blood. mentions of dying. tooth rotting fluff. Eddie is a cutie pie. pet names used; sweetheart, baby, honey. shitty writing/spelling errors; if you find any plz ignore it lolololololol.

a/n: i'm currently in so much pain from my period and the only thing i want is for someone to coddle me and tell me i'm going to be ok. i hope you guys enjoy this very small thing, it's not much and it's not good but maybe it'll help you feel good on those days when life is shit. love you all <3

--

You're dying, a slow, painful, and mournful death. At this point you stopped caring, stopping all the begging you've done all morning for your life to continue. If this was how you were going out than so be it, you just wished your end had come faster.

You've already bled through two pairs of panties and two pairs of shorts, now left in your trusty period panties and an oversized shirt. Your stomach was bloated to the point it was uncomfortable, your breasts were so swollen that your chest felt like it was going to concave under the weight, and your back felt as if it was going to snap in half at any moment.

It felt like you tried everything, ibuprofen, heating pad, and propping a pillow in between your legs - none of the tricks worked. Now you were left in the fetal position, arms wrapped around your middle and knees pulled to your chest.

For the past how ever many hours you've been moaning out in pain, the stabbing feeling in your uterus just too much to handle. You're sure if someone were to walk in and see you they'd think you were insane and right now you couldn't blame them.

You did look insane, hair wild and matted to your face from all the sweat you've accumulated, voice hoarse and scratchy from all the wounded animal sounds you've made, and your face screwed up in an unflattering way.

Your phone has gone unanswered all day, the only person to have texted you was Eddie. At first it was only tik toks, small comments he thought would make you giggle, and then it turned into him updating you about his day at work, and finally worried questions about if you were okay.

You felt so fucking guilty for not responding, not telling him that you were fine but you just physically couldn't move from your crouched position. This only made you angrier, the fact that your temporarily paralyzed and are restricted from doing the things you need to do.

The fridge sits empty and in need of new groceries, laundry stays piled up by the washer where they wait to be cleaned, and Eddie is waiting for your response worrying about your well being - that is if he hasn't already contacted the national guard to track your location.

Everything is so shitty, the pain, the hurting, the guilt, the frustration. You feel like you're a balloon that's been filled up too much and is waiting to burst at the seams.

You don't have to take long before the heated tears from your eyes fall down, hitting the bridge of your nose, only to land on the pillow beneath your head. It's not a violent cry, at least not yet, just frustrated tears that seem to slip away from their barricade.

You don't even notice the front door of your apartment opening or the sound of Eddie calling for your name, only focusing on the pulsating of your uterus that debilitates your body.

"Fuck, baby I've been worried about you," You don't even turn and look at him, your eyes are still harshly closed. By the sound of his voice you know he's out of breath, brown curls probably wild from the speed of his running.

"Shit, sweetheart, are you okay?" The worry in his voice hits right on the spiderweb crack, shattering you into a million little pieces.

You can't hold it back, the wailing that rips from your throat is something close to bone chilling. Tears streams from your eyes without relent, whole body shaking from the cries that rip from your body.

It doesn't take more than thirty seconds to feel the bed dip as your boyfriend crawls into bed next to you. He doesn't think twice before pulling you in, one arm wrapped around your back and the other soothing down your hair on the side of your head.

"It's okay, baby. M'here, you're okay." Eddie coos and it's like music to your ears.

The warmth from his body fills you in a way your heating pad couldn't. Even with the mucus that fills your nose you catch a whiff of his scent, smoke, pine, and outside -undoubtedly him. His calloused hand runs soothingly up and down your back, allowing your bones to relax into his touch.

Eddie doesn't have to ask, he knows you better than you know yourself, and the way your scrunched up on your bed and crying he knows that you've been battling your pain all day.

"Sweetheart, you have to breath. Can you do that for me? Take one big deep breath, s'all I want, okay?"

You nod your head against his chest, following the way his chest moves as he demonstrates for you. Between hiccupped breaths and streaming tears, you allow your lungs to fill up with as much air as you can take in, releasing it right after in one long exhale.

"Good job, baby. Did such a good job f'me." Eddie's being soft with you, a side of him he only allows you to see and no one else.

You let his praise melt over you, soaking it right up like the plants in a drought. For the first time since you woke up you feel lighter, something you only feel when Eddie's by you. The cramps that have been going nonstop have finally subsided, the presence of your boyfriend scaring them away.

"It hurt so bad, Eds. S'really bad today." Your voice is shaky, as if one wrong move and you can break out into another sob.

"I know, honey, but it's okay. I'm gonna take care of you, kay? I'm gonna make it all better."

You both know that he has no control over what your body decides to do but just the promise alone has your worries easing away. Your body relaxes into him, your knees slowly falling down to their normal position until your laying right up against him.

"On a scale from one to ten, where are you at?" You take a moment to think about it, really evaluating the squeezing of your organs.

"Was a ten but now it's like a seven."

Eddie hums, his hand still soothing up and down your back. A small pause settles over his words, like he's trying to wrack his brain for the next action he's going to make so you can feel better.

"How 'bout you get some rest, then when you get up we'll get you something to eat? Sound okay?" You nod again, too tired to form any sort of response.

Eddie acknowledges your response with a kiss to the top of your head, making you hum in content when he does. It doesn't take long for the tiredness of your body to settle over you, quiet snores coming from your nose in no time.

Even if his arms fall asleep and his back feels stiff, Eddie stays there with you, soothing you in your sleep to ensure that your pain stays at bay. When you do wake up he's right there, waiting for you with some water and more medicine before helping you into the shower.

He's not magic and he has no idea what to do when it comes to woman's health but Eddie Munson will be damned if a period makes his girl cry like that again.

---

[theshinazugawaslut]

Yall, look at this Sanemi fanart I found — the way I would let this man fuck me raw into oblivion with no protection, no lubricant, no preparation, no warning, no shame, all the way on my mums bed to my dads bed, against the bathroom door to bent over my bath tub, on the toilet and against the cover, from the kitchen sink to the balcony, from my bed to his bed, against the fan and against the wardrobe, draped over the washing machine to hunched behind the fridge, between day and dawn to twilight and midnight, on a chair, on a train, on a bus, during class, on a video call, upside on a tree, in a sewer, on the battlefield, behind a bush, on his mother's gravestone, in a puddle of piss as I scream, cry, whimper, beg, moan his name, huffing and puffing entirely out of breath, I need him biblically as he gives me the most bone breaking, singularity causing, toe clenching, pussy wettening, ass slapping, cheek jiggling, back arching, toes curling, feet snapping, finger popping, hair pulling, writhing, orgasmic, fist clenching, tongue drooling, muscle exploding, eye watering, leg divorcing, knee breaking, shin sucking, nipple bursting, hip thrusting, anus clenching, clit vibrating, knuckle cracking, jaw dislocating, nose bleeding, skin peeling, bone acidifying, hip thrusting, sheet gripping, spinal cord shattering, eyelashes flying off my face, spectacle destroying, over stimulating, cervical mucus ovulating, hormones off the chart, pregnancy inducing, swollen bump causing, ribs expanding to keep inside all his salty cum, nail biting, gravity defying, volcano erupting, uterus popping, ovary exploding orgasm of my life.

[aviradasa]

I know this is my second request in less than 30 minutes, but what about a fic of reader and leola, Both sync during that time of the month and they just sass and complain about everything Aaravos does down to his cooking while he takes care of them🤣😂🤣

Also, can this fic be like a comedy thing

🤣🤣 say less, I got you. Also, I decided to make this in more of a oneshot style! I hope that is alright. Sorry, I got a bit lazy towards the end. Maybe this will get another part, lol, but it's a comedy I don't think I've ever seen a well thought comedy 🤣🤣 anyways I hope you enjoy 🖤

Reader and Teen!Leola sync up.Aaravos is done.

I 100% believe this is his default look before he says some sass ass shit to yall in this.

Also, I have a confession. I miss his old model he looked so much more intimidating. Anyways

Aaravos x Fem! Mom Reader. Hc

{Comady} warnings:there's like an innuendo at the end and cussing. Besides that, you're good

Check out the other parts to this string of HC

Masterlist

Aaravos introducing you to his daughter

Aaravos getting ready to propose to you with the help of leola

Teenage!Leolas first partner is human how do you and Aaravos react

@delusional-mushroom @josmarney23 @imsimping4life

The sun had just peaked when you woke up feeling a lot more irritable than normal. Which was a sign to you that the next week was going to be a nightmare, as you and your teenage daughter had synced.

You reluctantly look over towards the window and roll your eyes at the light poking through.

Yes, we have curtains up, but you swear they can never close all of the way, and it pisses you off to no extent.

But since there is nothing you can do about it. You just groan in frustration, covering your face with your hands before turning to look at your husband, who lays peacefully next to you in bed

You are always jealous of him. because he sleeps and wakes up so pretty, and you always say you wake up looking like you fought 3 wars, then had a night out in a tavern. But besides that, you're jealous that he doesn't have to feel like the gods are mid-fistfight with your uterus.

That prick

Just as you're about to get up, you hear your daughter in the kitchen. A few seconds pass, and you hear the sound of one of your plates hitting the ground.

as the sound of the shattering glass hits your ears, Aaravos shoots up, and you fall back into the mattress as fast as you can.

Cause they got you all the way fucked up if they think you're dealing with that in this condition

Sorry Leola yo daddy's coming for you.

It's probably for the best today. Those were cute plates, and you're a little pissed that one is now broken

In the kitchen, Aaravos walks in to see one of your NICE ass crystal plates shattered and an irritated leola floating above the mess

And this shit is broke broke. There are no hella big pieces to pick up; it's all small shards, and they are everywhere. So Aaravos pushes leola to the side and uses a quick spell on the broom so it will sweep up on its own as he tries talking to his daughter.

"How did this even happen?"

"I don't even know. I opened the cabinet, and it fell onto the floor when I tried to grab the one under it." She starts saying in a quickened, frustrated tone

"Well, why would you try to grab the one under it in the first place," Aaravos says, rolling his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. For him, it's too early for this bullshit.

"Because the one on top might have dust on it? Everybody knows that, dad!" Leola says, getting more annoyed.

"Girl, lower your damn tone with me. I'm not the one who broke your mother's plate." He says, narrowing his eyes at her. She just groans, getting more frustrated.

"Well, it wasn't my fault! It was just an accident!" She shoots back at him.

"Who's accident was it if it wasn't your fault? Because I would really like to talk to the person who I'm cleaning up broken crystal after right now. At 7 o'clock in the morning." Aaravos says in amusement with a raised eyebrow.

Leola just rolls her eyes and floats out of the kitchen with a " well you missed a spot" as Aaravos stands there chuckling to himself.

He does not feel bad about talking back to yall during hell week.

He loves both Leola and you to death, and he will help all and try and accommodate you both to the best of his abilities, but he will sass back and get some attitude if Leola and you do

The king of matching energies lowkey

He thinks of it like this. If I'm doing this shit for yall on my own, voluntarily I'm not taking any shit.

He isn't just part of the sassy man apocalypse he started the damn movement.

Anyways

As he stands across the kitchen, watching his little magic broom clean up, you walk in

As you walk into the kitchen and see his little magic broom floating around your side eye tf outta him

And he side eyes you back

"Good morning, my love." He says suspiciously, knowing you're about to say some shit

" Why is there a floating broom cleaning. Do We have to rely on magic for everything?" You say approaching him.

"If you don't want me doing it with magic, you can be my guest to do it manually. Because I don't think Leola is going to." He says with a smirk

You're gagged, honestly. Are you supposed to come up with something witty this early in the morning, like you already feel like you're getting stabbed? You don't have time for that

You just avert your gaze and go to the other side of the room to get some food.

" If you want, I would be happy to make something." Aaravos offers

"Oh, I keep forgetting you can cook. Yes, that would be lovely"

That smug face he was making drops before you could snap your fingers.

"Excuse me?"

A little while later, he is sitting there flipping some pancakes, and you and Leola appear over his shoulder

"You flipped that one a little early it's a kinda light. I like em dark golden, not light golden," Leola starts.

"Then eat one of the other ones. There's 10 on the plate right there." He says back quickly

" You poured that one on their weird pancakes are supposed to be circular," you say, pointing out a wonky-looking one

" Oh really. I didn't know that." He replies sarcastically

" How the hell didn't you know that? You gettin' old or something -" Leola starts. She was never good at understanding sarcasm

You quickly cover her mouth with your hand. " Watch your damn mouth, girl. Don't be talking to your father like that."

"Thank you-"

"but she is right what the fuck kinda shape is that I've never seen anything like it?"

You both are kicked out of the kitchen until it's time to eat

After the morning passes and all eat, it gets better, and even apologize for SOME of the things you said

The afternoon is pretty chill. You all kinda do your own thing, Aaravos researches in his study while you read a book next to him, and Leola goes out with some friends.

Everything is pretty nice

Until night comes

He doesn't even tell you guys he's cooking dinner. He doesn't wanna hear it.

He didn't account for your scary ass sense of smell.

You and Leola enter that room looking like the twins from the shining

Yall just appear behind him hand like

🙂🙂

He sees now that Leola got her scary-ass look from you.

All stared into his soul, and he wasn't even facing you both

"What are you making?"

"Stew."

"Why does it look like your stiring diarrhea-"

"Get out."

You all get the doors magically locked on you 😭

But when yall are let it, that shit tasted good as hell.

Like damn food, it's so good that you lowkey contemplate if you should give him head later.

Jk yall, don't do that when your daughter is in the house. Only when she leaves.

After dinner, Leola just thanks her dad and goes to bed

Not long after, you and Aaravos have the same idea.

Time to repeat for the next 6 days 😊

Don't worry, on day 8, you'll kick Leola out of the house for a few hours.

[zorlok-if]

I have a question about vessels. I understand this probably enters inside the terrain of spoilers that are going to be revealed on the story. But my curiosity demands I ask you anyway. Although you are, of course, free to ignore this.

I was wondering if vessels are subject to human needs and flaws. As, do they need to eat, sleep, evacuate? Do they age? Do they have periods (in the case of uterus havers)? If they sleep, do the Mc's with prothestic limbs sleep without them?

Or does the demonic magic stop the body from having to take these into account?

I apologize if you answered this before, because I was not able to find it. Which I don't know if it's my fault or Tumblrs.

Anyway, I'm really interested by the worldbuilding of this story. Good luck with your writing!

Oh, I could go on about vessels for days, but I'll try to keep this short-ish and more or less coherent.

The ideal vessels for demons (and angels) are essentially husks that they can easily possess/pilot. Corpses make the best vessels for a number of reasons:

You don't have to subdue or deal with a soul.

The transformation from human body to ideal demonic vessel is exponentially faster.

You don't have to deal with any mortal functions, limitations, and nuisances.

As you'll see early on in the story (potentially in the prologue when the updated version drops) as soon as an infernal/celestial being enters a body, it fundamentally and involuntarily begins to alter it. Blood normally starts to congeal and change color and (if it's a corpse) the bones will twist and shatter, but this won't hinder the vessel in any major ways. The skin will just appeal to heal over any damage and the body will feel solid and normal as if nothing strange has happened. It can hurt or slow down a demon/angel, but it can't kill or permanently maim the vessel. The ultimate transformation will really reflect the idea of the vessel being a husk but—for lore reasons—there is no standard way that a demon/angel's presence affects the body. For example, once the transformation is complete, the vessel might appear empty but leak pure, liquid shadow when sliced open, be stuffed with semi-sentient slime, filled with weird little creatures, erupt with lava when punctured, just be stacked with bones and more bones, etc. Regardless, it will always look just like it did in life from the outside. It can even appear/feel to have subtle things like the sensation of a pulse, bodily warmth, breathing, etc. They also feel things like pain, discomfort, pleasure, etc. like humans do (though some know how to turn off this added functionality, distancing themselves from their vessel emotionally).

Corpses are dead, so they won't age, and the infernal/celestial power keeps them fresh, so to speak. And, since infernals/celestials create energy, they have no need to sustain themselves. They don't need to eat in the way humans do, but if they expend a lot of energy quickly, they can speed up the process of recovering that power by consuming "food" (could be a more loose definition, since they don't have to deal with edibility like humans do). In that case, it's just like throwing logs on a fire. They also don't need to sleep but can enter a sleep-like state to pass time more quickly. (I think if the MC has prosthetic limbs they'd likely take them off to sleep with some possible exceptions).

As implied above the transformation process is much slower if the demon's vessel is a living person. In these cases, since the flesh is still alive, the demon/angel would have to take care of the mortal form and its involuntary functions if they want to keep it alive. They would age, sleep, eat, get sick, all of it.

But the body does still change. If someone were to be possessed for an extended period of time and survive, they'd be... different. The specific mutations would vary, but there would be evidence of otherworldly influence on their body and (most likely) serious health consequences. So, they may gain some cool powers or even a demonic feature, but maybe some of their internal organs have liquefied (oops).

[cup1d-ends-here]

We’ll Be Alright| Erwin Smith x Pregnant! Reader

Genre: Fluff, smut if you squint, angst

Word count:

You had been there on the field. You had been then when Erwin’s innate instinct for leadership continued even when his arm was ripped off by a titan. When he was dragged away in the jaws of beast, his command never faulted. Now here you were, sitting beside his bed as he recovered. He wrapped his hand around the warm cup of tea you had made for him and let out a large sigh. You peered up from your book and smile softly at him. You placed it down and reached to rub the stubble growing on his usually clean-shaven face. 

“The stubble suits you,” You giggled and shifted onto the side of his bed. He chuckled and leaned into your hand.

“You know (y/n), I’ve never felt a comfort like you. We will marry.” You felt flush and moved your hand away. 

“If one of us doesn’t become a titan’s snack before hand.” Although humorous, it was a disguised exhibit of your anxieties. You weren’t ready for the pair of you to die. The pair of you meaning the small life that recently formed inside you.

He was as oblivious as anyone could be about it. Meaning, you had not told him. But after recent events, you feel as though your announcement might have to come sooner than anticipated. You knew if you told him, he would have you pulled from your duties immediately, and you couldn’t settle for doing nothing whilst your comrades risk their lives for humanity. You recall the night it happened; the raw passion and undoing of the Commander.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

“That is all for tonight Levi, go rest.” Levi closed the door behind him and Erwin sighed, slouching deep into his chair. His kept hair and a few strands falling onto his forehead. He was exhausted. You peered around the bedroom door and called his name. he turned his face to you and you glided over to him. You stood behind his chair, hands slowly digging deep in to his shoulders to relieve some tension. He let out a groaned and you smiled. You loved seeing him like this. Off-duty, uniform loose and messy. Your nose ghosted his neck and he sighed. You placed open mouth kisses from his jawline to his collar. “(n/n)...” He sighed.

“Let’s continue this somewhere more comfy,” you suggested, guiding his frame to your shared bedroom. He gently pushed your frame onto the bed. He climbed on top of you and you fiddled with his belt whilst your lips were locked in a passionate kiss. The product of your love that night embodied itself in your uterus few weeks later.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

Erwin brought his tea to his lips, and you hastily confessed your secret. His eyes widened, the brim of his cup resting on his bottom lip. He slowly lowered the cup, his hair hung in front of his eyes, you couldn’t decipher his reaction. A few tense seconds past, before he looked at you, eyes brimming with tears and a smile on his plump lips. He disregarded the ceramic-ware in his hand, throwing and the hot liquid onto the wooden floor. It shattered, as he wrapped his arm around you tight, and what was left of his other. He began to sob. He held your head into his chest, his broad shoulder heaving with each breath he took. He embraced you as if it was the last time he would ever get to, and you did the same. “A child, my child, our child.” He whispered, cupping your face with his hand. Tears began to well in your eyes. You nodded vigorously.

“If I, we, ever lose you, I’ll always have some part of you with me,” you choked. 

“Don’t say that, it won’t come to that.” He didn’t want to think of it like that. His child wasn’t some memorabilia for Erwin’s life, they were the evidence of an inseparable bond between two lovers. But as much as he wants to reject that scenario, he knows very well of the possibility that his child will grow up with a headstone for a father. 

[cyberrose2001]

my time has come. *rubs hands together*

i rlly hope this is allowed but... okok so op comes back from a mission/patrol or whatever, a little bit injured. like he needs to stay in the medical bay for a bit. fem!reader is very obviously worried abt their beloved op and refuses to leave his side, even after ratchet confirms that op is just fine. right right so then it's late at night and after ratchet is used to reader sleeping beside op, he wishes them goodnight and leaves the medbay for the night. op and reader are cuddling and op decides to reassure his conjunx that he's okay with some tender loving care, in the form of sexual activities aka fuckin on his very own bed.

TFP Optimus x fem!Reader

I feel like I could’ve written this better, but I’m sore and in pain from my monthly’s (my uterus is killing me slowly), but regardless, I hope you enjoy! <3

Warnings: AFAB reader, fem reader, human reader, mentions of pain/death, reader tops OP in the med bay, general smut.

Word count: 1563

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

“You scare me too much. You know that, right?”

It was starting to become more and more common. Optimus would be out in the field doing what he does best, kicking Decepticons aft first and taking names later. Well, honestly, it’s the other way around. Your mech always had a way with words, but occasionally, those words bite back.

Optimus is injured. Again. Though nothing too significant, as assessed by Ratchet, it’s still enough to send your heart into a frenzy of anxiety and dread. Your mind always anticipates the next time he comes back through that ground bridge, it will be his last. Injuries too severe for him to heal from.

But Optimus, the ever-persevering mech he is, is convinced that you have healing hands.

“I know,” He smiles, it’s reassuring, but you can see the small winces he tries to hide when you glide your hands across his dented chassis, “And I am genuinely sorry for it.”

“You always say that,” You exhale under your breath, resting your head under his chin, “One day, you’re never gonna come back to me, and sorry’s won’t make up for it.”

His vents hitch. Your words were harsh, like a blunt knife. And akin to being stabbed, Optimus is painfully aware of the risks every time he steps foot on the battlefield. He wonders what life he would leave you if he never returned, but the mere thought of that pains him more than a sharp edge.

“I know,” Optimus closes his eyes, and his smile falters, letting his servos trail delicate lines along your spine, “But I am fine. There is no need for you to bare my wounds; your solicitude is unnecessary.”

“Unnecessary? Optimus, I lay awake every night when you’re not in berth with me,” You scoff in disbelief, “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve cried myself to sleep because I’m so scared you’re never gonna… god damn it, I don’t wanna lose you. I can’t.”

Optimus watches as tears roll down your cheeks. He moves a servo from your back to gently wipe them away, “You’ll never lose me. That is a promise I will always keep.”

You bite back a sob and lean your head into his servo, “You better, but still, you’re hurt.”

“Only temporarily, if not at all,” He hums, the servo stroking your back creeping down to loosely cup your ass, “But if you still need reassurance, I am happy to demonstrate my optimal health.”

You feel a digit push behind the hem of your pants, and you know precisely what your mech is asking for.

“Optimus, there’s no way,” You wipe the rest of your tears away before pushing yourself up to straddle his pelvis, “If you hadn’t noticed, we’re in the med bay, and you’re in no shape to have sex.”

“You underestimate me,” Optimus purrs, and fuck; he’s squeezing your ass so nicely, “What better way to reassure my love that I am fine than by fragging them?”

You bite your lip and weigh your options. You both might get caught by Ratchet and risk not looking him in the optics again or have amazing earth-shattering sex with Optimus, but risk hurting him. You glance at his face again, and you shouldn’t have because optics have dimmed with pure arousal.

You gulp, “Are you sure?”

Optimus tugs down your pants, now hanging loosely at your ankles. He leans up and kisses your shoulder, “Undoubtedly.”

He’s pulling your underwear down now, and it seems that your body has decided for you because you’re utterly drenched. Fuck it.

“Forgive me, Ratchet.” You lean forward and collide your lips with your lover. Optimus returns the kiss with equal enthusiasm, grunting as you push your tongue into his mouth to tangle with his own.

During the breathless kiss, Optimus pushes his servo between your body, pressed against his own. He runs a digit along your wet slit, and you can feel his shutter against your mouth. He pushes a digit inside, and you let a desperate moan slip.

“So wet for me already,” He breaks the kiss and pumps his digit slowly, “Remove the remainder of your garments, please.”

You oblige, sitting upright again, and, in turn, pushes the digit further inside you. You struggle to rip your shirt and bra off as you feel him curling against your g-spot, throwing them somewhere off to the side.

“Please, Optimus.” You shiver and lean your arm back to paw at his interfacing panel, which feels ready to burst, “Let’s be -fuck- quick.”

He withdraws his servo from underneath you, and it glistens under the surgical lamps with your fluids and leaves you longing for something to fill you. With the same servo, he fumbles with his interfacing panel and unlatches it, spike pressurising against your back.

You ready yourself over his weeping spike, a hand splayed on his abdomen and one wrapped around his spike. Biting your lip, you press his tip inside and push your hips down as far as possible. You moan at the fullness, lip quivering once you’ve fully sheathed yourself around him.

Optimus grunts at your fluttering walls and moves to grip your hips, massaging your flesh to keep himself under control. His optics flicker to your eyes, “Remember, be silent if you wish not to alert the others.”

You nod and slowly lift your hips, slamming them back down, and choke. Optimus rarely lets you ride his spike, preferring to top and fuck you himself. But god, every time you do feels better than the last. The feeling of every little bump and groove along his thickness is pleasurable beyond imaginable, and you’re finding it harder to keep quiet.

Optimus’ grip on your hips tightens, and before long, he’s guiding you to slam down on himself more forcefully. The only sounds filling the med bay are the lewd echoes of flesh against metal and your combined hushed whimpers.

Your lover groans, optics trained on your soft body bouncing on his throbbing spike. He loves the way your breasts and stomach jiggle every time your hips meet his own. And fuck, he can feel his impending overload.

Optimus reaches his arms around your back and forces you to lie plush against him, and before you can protest, he covers your mouth with a servo.

“Shhh, you wish for me to be quick, hmm?” Optimus growls lowly, readjusting his hips underneath you.

You nod and moan against his palm, wiggling your hips for more friction. He satisfactorily hums.

“Well, you must be quiet,” Optimus rolls his hips upwards slowly, “If not, and we are discovered, I will not hesitate to use a gag next time. Are we clear?”

Well, now you know for sure that Optimus is fine; his dominant side is showing off. It always creeps out of him when he is nearing overload, which means lying down and taking it. And you fucking love it.

Optimus removes his servo covering your mouth and returns it to wrap around your back. His hips start slow before transitioning into a break-neck pace, and the force causes your head to rest on his chassis.

“Oh fuck,” You whine softly. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you bring your hand to your mouth to bite the flesh of your palm, a pathetic attempt to silence yourself. His spike hits deeper than before, hips craned at the perfect angle to rub against your g-spot.

Optimus’ restrained moans emanating from his chassis vibrate your skull, “So warm and tight, I’m sure you’re enjoying this, needing to keep quiet, hmm?”

“Yesss,” You whisper, only loud enough so he can hear you above the wet sounds of his thick spike entering you, “I wanna cum… please.”

Optimus groans and kisses the top of your head, thrusts his hips into you harder, “Frag, you’re so good for me. Overload then.”

That’s all it took before a white-hot flash of pleasure explodes in your lower stomach, tight walls clench around him like a vice as your orgasm shakes your body. Your teeth clamped on your palm loosen, and your jaw drops in a silent scream, taking all your strength to suppress your vocal cords as Optimus pushes himself to the hilt, hot trans fluid shooting up into your sore pussy.

You move your head to look up at him, and by the Primes, does he look gorgeous. His jaw is clenched, and his optics are screwed shut in utter euphoria. And the most admirable thing is that he didn’t even make a sound. You make a mental note to applaud him for it later.

You feel his arms loosen against your back as he spurts the last of his trans fluids inside you, dripping out onto the gurney below, a concoction of your combined fluids that will most likely need multiple rags to clean up.

Optimus unclenches his jaw, and an ungodly amount of smoke shoots out of his exhausts. He looks down at you and gives you a soft smile, venting raggedly.

“Was that enough proof that I am fine?” He whispers, cupping your face to give you a breathless yet passionate kiss.

You hun into the kiss before releasing from it, “I suppose so,” You turn your head to observe the sheer amount of fluids coating Optimus’ hips and the gurney, “But let’s clean up before Ratchet kills us.”

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

I never thought I'd see toxo/pregnancy mentioned alongside pro-life. Like I understand the brain pathway, don't get me wrong, it just caught me so off guard... As someone who miscarried due to toxoplasmosis, a miscarriage which was riddled with complications that lead to the loss of my uterus on top of it all like some vile prank it's just UGH.

It's been more than six years now. I just wish I could look the "owner" in the eye and tell them how their simple negligence had absolutely shattered my very being. And I wish that I didn't boil and break at any reminders. I haven't learned where to put this anger, yet.

Alongside the anger there's the fear I hold for the sake of others. This shit could happen to anyone but! No one wants to talk about how detrimental their "fur baby" can be to both humans and wildlife. As if it's a personal attack. As if they hold no responsibility as an owner. As if educating yourself on your own pet isn't necessary. As if you're 2 kool 4 skool and caring about the well-being of others is a weakness.

Anyways...

Pro-lifers aren't a crowd that cares about the well-being of others and by lacking this basic capacity, I seriously doubt something pet-related could ever warrant a second glance. Controlling people is the priority, not pets.

(I apologize for how winded this may come across, I have certain tags blacklisted and yeah, a previous post was a shock. I hope this topic will be taken more seriously in the future, and it's certainly not going to happen with pro-liffers)

people laugh it off when I speak about toxo, it’s very poorly researched and we don’t even know if miscarriages are the only major complication. It firms cysts in the brain that completely change the behavior of prey animals, and we have no idea what the implications there are for humans.

Even if miscarriages are the only complication (I doubt this), that isn’t really an “only” because that has horrible effects on real human beings.

[viperwhispered]

Jamemi moments: caretaking edition

This ended up dealing with kinda bloody matters (periods and nosebleeds), oop.

Also I swear I was thinking of these things even before Dio's recent Lou post.

The things Jamil has to deal with, no matter the universe.

You can find more information on my yuusona Emi and her relationship with Jamil here on the masterlist.

Being the good, considerate boyfriend (and a chronic ball of overthinking & worrying) he is, at some point Jamil starts carrying pads with him.

But Emi just never seems to need them, or even mentions having her period in general. That's weird, is she just super shy and discreet about it, or...?

Eventually, the topic comes up, and Emi's just all: yeah when I had my first period here and had to go to the nurse, I jumped so fast on the opportunity when she told me there's a potion to just be rid of my periods for a while. Alchemy truly is a wonderful miracle.

Honestly, sometimes she kinda wishes she could just hand out her uterus to someone who actually wants one. The first period was nice for feeling all mature and grown - up until to the point when the cramps started. Now it's just an annoying hassle. No need to celebrate her womanhood with a monthly bleeding if she can help it, thank you very much.

Sometime after book 6 Emi ends up catching a cold. Not a wonder, really, considering the stress she's been under - and while chilliness in itself may not cause one to fall in, the condition of Ramshackle certainly doesn't help.

So Emi's there all grumpy and tired, going through tissues at a steady pace while curling up by the fire at Ramshackle. Jamil's in the kitchen, preparing some warm soup for her.

But when Jamil returns with the bowl of food, he finds Emi laying on the couch, a pile of bloody tissues next to her.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

Before Emi knows it, Jamil's set the bowl on the table with a forceful thud, hovering over her side with definite concern.

"Oh, just a nosebleed. Happens with the constant blowing of my nose and stuff, don't worry about it," Emi says, annoyed but mostly just resigned to her fate.

Yeah, right, Jamil's definitely gonna listen to that.

So Jamil sees to instructing Emi on the proper method of dealing with a nosebleed - clearing her nose and pressing the nostril closed until the bleeding stops. And most importantly: sitting up and leaning forward so she's not swallowing all the blood like she's definitely been doing so far.

"Sorry. I'll clean up the tissues in a moment, just-" Emi says, all apologetic, watching Jamil fuss over her, her feeling like such a bother.

"I've dealt with worse. Just let me take care of you," Jamil says in his usual stern manner, a hand still lingering on her back.

And before Emi knows it, she just bursts into tears - which makes things all the more tricky and messy, with the nosebleed, and her already stuffed nose, and still trying to somehow breathe through it all and dab all the mix of fluids away from her face.

Sure, she's been finding herself getting emotional before when Jamil's been insisting on doing things for her or just checking on her - or with anyone else genuinely asking how she's been doing. But now, tired and sick and everything, she just cannot hold it back at all, as embarrassing as it is.

Girl really has been hanging on by a thread trying to shoulder everything mostly by herself ever since ending up in Twisted Wonderland, ready to shatter with the slightest bits of genuine care.

Cue an embarrassed, messy Emi, trying to squeeze apologies out through the sobs - and Jamil, totally out of his depth, trying to figure out what he just did wrong and what he can do to fix this.

After all that awkwardness, Emi soon finds herself with some topical treatments to keep her airways clear and moisturised - and also with a nice, easy to clean water bottle, because “the hydration starts from the inside, the treatments can only do so much if you're not drinking enough”, according to Jamil.

And to wrap this up from the other side of the equation:

“My beloved.”

Jamil recognized that chiding tone, braced himself for receiving Emi’s displeasure.

“Why are you still working?”

Good question.

Well, of course Jamil knew why. Whether he had an explanation that would sway Emi, that was another question altogether.

"I wanted to get these ready for tomorrow."

That only got Emi to purse her lips further.

"Yeah, well, I can sort those out. You, meanwhile, need to rest." She wrapped her hands around his wrists, physically pulling Jamil away.

"Emi," he protested.

How was it that someone as soft as his habibti could be this forceful with him? So unflinching under his stare?

But perhaps he indeed was tired enough not to offer her the full sharpness of him.

It wasn't often that Emi would actually manhandle Jamil away from his work, but when she did...

Perhaps it was the confusing mix of indignation, surprise and something murkily sweet and warm that made him yield in the end, offering only a token of protest as she practically dragged him with her.

Basically, if Indulgence is a jamemi vibe, then so is Rest.

Taglist: @scint1llat3 @diodellet @moonyasnow @bibi-cha

If anyone else would like to be tagged for Emi / jamemi things, just let me know!

[uh-velkommen]

A lot of people are rightfully angry with the results of this election but I'm simply feeling defeated. I watched as the world (and by "world" I mean the political climate of the USA) descend into madness. I fought so many people, cried for change, and spread as much knowledge and information as I could. And what I learned from that is that people don't change. Everyone's brain works differently and some people just don't conform to reason. So I gave up.

I stopped talking about politics, I cut out anyone who isn't clear about where they stand, and I also stopped befriending the ultra religious people I grew up beside. These people who preach love and kindness but then turn to their bibles for validation of their hatred have no idea the internal struggles I've dealt with nor do they realize that simply their proximity to religion makes me weary. That I can't look at them the same way without fearing that at the drop of a dime, they will turn around and despise me because of my secrets. The fact that I have to live with secrets, afraid of life, simply because of THEIR choice to believe in a misinterpreted diety.

I'm a person of color, mentally ill, nuerodivergent, a uterus haver, and an LGBT person, I am every at risk minority as well as a young professional who comes from poverty, trying to build their own life from scratch. I am an important demographic for the business and financial part of our country. I want to live. I want to be able to afford to live. I want to feel safe. I want to be happy.

I'm not mad at Donald Trump. I'm not disappointed in our country. I'm not baffled by the stupidity of most people. The only thing this election has proven to me is that we live in a hateful world. It's shown me just how many people don't care about others. And I've come to the conclusion that when the number of people who hate entirely outweighs the number of people who love, nothing will ever change. That this is the life I have been and will be forced to live. There is no light at the end of the tunnel. There's no point in protesting, no point in preaching, no point in believing.

When I was younger I used to excitedly tell people that I was an activist. I thought it was a good thing to care so deeply for the people who were never seen and I wore it like a badge of honor. But I'd always be met with laughter or disregard and I questioned why no one else believed in doing the right thing. No one else believed in standing up to bullying. Now I'm silent. I no longer speak up. I no longer strive to break the mold. The mold has in fact broken me. Overnight I've felt the absolute last of my hopes and dream shatter.

[scummy-writes]

A short tidbit about my ikevil Oc.

This contains descriptions of menstruation along with hopes of having a child.

Thump.

Again.

Thump.

Again.

Thump.

Her hand hits rhythmically against the wall, fist entangled in the hair at the scruff of her neck. Pinching, digging nails in deep, as her eyes bore into the cloth between her legs. Stained with thickened blood. More of it drying on sheets of toilet paper, dripping further into the bowl.

She shouldn’t have expected otherwise. She knows this routine; every few months she goes without bleeding. Every few months, the irrational hope builds within her, day after day, until she believes that maybe, she’s succeeded this time. A twist in her stomach, a panic trying to etch within the walls of her chest, clawing against the few strands of sanity she believes she has left.

Then, after the pseudo symptoms startup - her body's way of reinforcing the deranged hope laden inside her - it comes crashing down sometime around the third month. In bits of uterine lining and the starkness of blood against her pale underwear.

Again. And again. Her own special cycle of blood and tears.

She’s unsure of how long she’s sat here staring, thumping the side of her fist against the wall, thinking. Wishing. Her thoughts twisting into self mockery. Into pitiful soothing attempts. Moving her body feels like a herculean effort, one she has to avoid registering in her mind, running on old routines. Wiping up what mess she can. Stuffing toilet paper between her labia and underwear. Scrubbing her hands clean, until they burn under the water, scalding, turning red.

Looking into the mirror is pointless. She feels the way her eyes burn from staring, that she’s pale and reflecting the emptiness of her womb - a blank slate, under strain and ready to fracture.

With a deep breath, she opens the bathroom door and steps out into one of the many hallways in Crown. Vases are intermittent with the windows, a cacophony of various stages of bloom between them, interspersed with paintings of random subjects. Her nails dig into her palm, flexing, shaking off the urge to grab the nearest vase and see how loud the shatter is in the still hall.

The idea leaves her in a short trance, feeling herself take a step, no two, closer to them, before a sharp pain in her abdomen causes her to suck in a breath with a wince. It's what finally causes a sting in her eyes, the reminder of another short lived dream crashing down upon her.

It's conflicting in ways that tangle within her thoughts - she never wanted a child when she was one herself, yet as she grew into her curse, the want demand left her spiraling. Shedding hysterical tears at the drop of a hat, flying into a rage when nothing seemed to ensure pregancy.

A familiar chuckle draws her attention, lungs stilling as she hears the tap of mens shoes. It what finally kicks her feet into gear, ushering herself further away, a creep of shame crawling up her back as her body burns despite the pain. Longing for companionship while her scattered thoughts plead against it.

Shame, stemming from her mother. From her mind speaking against her heart. From the way her hands shake, feeling as though they belong to another person entirely. The only thing that manages to soothe it for now in the escape into her room, the click of a lighter, and a whisp of smoke filling her lungs.

I'll have to put more of an explanation of my oc one day. Quite literally had to have the server help me come up with her name an hour ago.

Her name is Mary. She has the rumpelstiltskin curse, which allows her to turn things into gold with the touch of her fingers. She does have an ample amount of control on this, thankfully, but the crux of it is that she's left craving having children of her own, while the curse eats away her uterus' ability to actually have children.

I honestly want it to be that the longer she has her curse, the more it turns her ovaries into gold, but thinking about the mechanics of that gives me a headache.

She's going to be different from my other ocs, as I am gonna base some issues I have with PCOS and PMDD with some things she goes through. Honestly, exaggerated for her, but... yep.

I'm unsure of who she'd be paired with. I don't know of j*de that well, but he doesnt seem much like the type for casual sex? i was gonna rib that they'd be ewb (enemies with benefits), but I don't really know if any of the guys would fit with her...???? congrats, mary, you're the first OC where i had no guy in mind when making you.

[h3lloyou]

. I need

. I need someone to be so fear stricken to not realized their loosen ropes as I slowly guide their hands to hold a knife towards me. Gently holding their clasped hands with a shaken eagerness for the knife to pierce my lower body, a not so precise cut as it should be, long and deep across my torso. I allow them to drop the knife, as I ready their hands to plunge into my warm bleeding intestines. I can feel them inside of me. Like really!! Really inside of me. I instructed them to feel around for the correct organ, my hands holding their wrists tighter and tighter, enough to bruise them through the restraints. Fuck, I would thrust and buck my hips at them but the job needs to be done as they finally grasp my godforsaken uterus

. I need a yandere to not just think they are better than me. But know it too as i failed another escape attempt, only ending up in their arms once again, thrown roughly to our forcefully shared room. I want them to tell me my punishment with such gorey detail, i can feel the bile in throat coming up. I want to watch them helplessly as they prepare a hammer to shatter my legs with for attempting to run. I want them to then lovingly bandage them up, kissing each part that shattered with a gentleness that i would have never expected. I want them to look at my legs days later with a love that i cant escape anymore. That i am entirely dependent on them now

[piosplayhouse]

I’m sorry in advance for sending a cursed ask, but this has been rotating in my mind since you made the post but I can’t keep it in anymore.

You know the thing about ass-birth omegas and the terf that showed up?? I have to confess that I am non-binary and I *also* didn’t think of having a womb attached to the intestines. All this time, every time there was only one hole, I thought the logical conclusion would be the baby covered in shit and growing in the intestines. When I thought of ass-birth, I imagined it like if you were just REALLY constipated, and needed to push out a big poop.

I’m having a crisis now. Is the womb theory something everyone just naturally assumed? Did I miss a memo? Is this a thing that everyone else has been aware of all this time, and I just never caught on??? Have *I* been the weirdo all this time?

I’ve been so mean and judgey toward people who didn’t write vaginas in their mpreg, oh god. (Not to their face, but. behind their back.) I’m so sorry. They actually did know what they were writing. There is ACTUAL SCIENCE supporting ass-babies. This has been an earth-shattering revelation.

Thank you for your work on the poll btw. You have brought so much knowledge to me that I wouldn’t have been privy to otherwise. I’m sending this anon partly as a way to get rid of my shame, but also to thank you for altering the course of my life in such a way. It has taught me to never underestimate biology.

Ok so I'm just gonna put all of this under a readmore for obvious reasons

You know what anon I respect you 😭 I guess it's somewhat of a medium thing, I remember reading a fair amount of omegaverse manga that actually had pages at the beginning of the story devoted to explaining the basic anatomy of the dynamics. I can't find any actual scans of those but googling "omegaverse anatomy" gives you diagrams like this (and also like ?? Extremely professional looking diagrams that I kind of wonder if they were drawn by actual medical illustrators??? But I will allow you to find those on your own)

It looks like there's somewhat of a divide between whether or not there's a separate vagina in there connected to the rectum or whether its just a cervix there separating a rectum from the womb but yeah I have to say I think the womb thing is pretty much agreed upon 😭😭 I can only really speak on the breeding side of fic things but the majority I've seen at least do definitely specify the existence of a uterus/cervix (mostly for horny reasons but yk). Very much separate from the intestines though...

Also I have to be the bearer of bad news here I guess for real life anatomy again but apparently giving birth with a vagina is also just like being really constipated. It's actually super common and normal for people to have bowel movements while giving birth (this actually is a big element of the v-birth vs c-section infant microflora development debate). Things are a lot more squished down there than people realize I think, especially when there's a whole baby there too

[umbreoncomplex]

> be me

> period in a week or 2

> to clarify im straight up not on my period at all trust me ive quadruple checked

> experiencing the most horrid nut kicking soul shattering uterus ripping cramps ever

> actually fucking bawling my eyes out about it

> overhear offhand comment about endometriosis running in our family