#religious pregnancy

[invivoinsomnium]

Immaculate and The First Omen

I've recently watched both Immaculate and The First Omen and I loved them both, so much in fact they seem to be my new obssession. I think The First Omen is my favourite between the two but not by much...

Spoilers below...

These are my opinions.

Pregnancy wise, Immaculate certainly has more in it, especially regarding a pregnant belly which is beautiful. I love that we get scenes of it bare and the ultrasound scenes. I like how Immaculate is a mixture of horror and science fiction whereas The First Omen is definitely a mixture of horror and supernatural. One is about the birth of a saviour the other the antichrist

Immaculate shows a progression of pregnancy with the big reveal towards the end of how she became pregnant, which I love but would have loved even more if we'd gotten a flashback of how it happen as it was, it was basically left up to the viewer to imagine. I would have loved to have seen a birth scene, I know she gives birth outside but I wanted more. I wanted her giving birth with the doctor and priest there, I wanted her on the birthing table with her legs in stirrups, belly opn display with a belt wrapped around her monitoring the contractions. I wanted her restrained. I wanted to hear her being told to push. That being said, the imprompt c-section was surprising but I actually liked it despite the fact the priest never finished it. Overall, for me personally, an enjoyable film. Be nice if when they release the DVD they showed scenes that didn't make the actual film and one of them was a birth scene where she didn't escape.

(I mean this was set up for the birth, it would have been nice to see them use it.) Now with The First Omen, yes you do get that birth scene that you saw in the trailer but there wasn't much too it due to the editing been quick cuts instead of a single focus shot. Definitely gory when you got to see the hand coming out...

I did like the part leading up to the pregnancy, her realisation that she's pregnant, seeing all the files of the failed pregnancies. The panic, the want for an abortion and even her attempt to escape.

(Immaculated used fetuses in jars, The First Omen used pictures and files; each showed that this had been attempted numerous times.) Pregnancy wise, you don't get much. At the end you get a rapid pregnancy and I admit despite not liking rapid pregnancies this was a good shot especially of the belly. The birth was at the end, it was a c-section. Now, I liked it, I liked the build up to it, the noises she made and the way the belly was revealed. That all being said, I would have loved to have seen a natural birth. Seeing her on the alter she was impregnated on (you get a flashback of the scene, a memory so to speak but once again the majority is left up to the audience.) Seeing the nuns hold her down, contracting belly on display, given something to induce labout and once again being coached through the birth. Still, I did like that she was surrounded by nuns and priests during the c-section and you got a brief look at the fact she was restrained. They also didnt shy away from the c-section or cut to a crying baby.

Overall, as prequels go, pretty damn good.

Once again, would love special features in the DVD where is shows her giving birth naturally.

(Should be mentioned I watched both as bad copies)

[horror-aesthete]

Rosemary's Baby, 1968, dir. Roman Polanski

[witchofthesouls]

I can't believe you did an alternative TF One Sentinel who became a Charlemagne or William the Conqueror because he did conquer the whole set of Prime valve, and then later spite/hate-fucked his canon self to keep that 100% achievement run.

The myths that Cybertron must have on Sentinel down the line must have been dramatically hyped and utterly impressive.

Yep. He's a sore loser, a poor winner, and a complete menace for achievement runs. He most definitely took the kids from his selfcest venture and rears them with the rest of their siblings.

That Sentinel will be happily buried under hundreds of sparklings and later thousands of grandkids and great-grandkids. It will get to the point that nearly all Cybertronians-by-carriage could claim spark lineage to him as Sentinel was the primary sire or a significant code donor.

In that world, that is how Sentinel became a Prime in the far future. Cybertronians, after many generations, couldn't believe a mere mortal had that kind of virility, and the Thirteen basically formed Conjunx rites among their own kind, so there was a shift in the records on how Sentinel was portrayed from a secretary to Primal Consort ('Sentinel of the Primes,' since he basically was a stud for all of them and stayed with them until his end) to Sentinel Prime. Future theologians, mythologists, historians, and anthropologists get into deep, vicious debates over the 'true' status of Sentinel.

Some of the more eclectic sects believe that his spike was blessed straight from Primus, or he was a kind of reproductive spirit to help bolster the Primes, so he has some very risqué iconography and artwork dedicated to his spike and is a considered a patron of fertility, abundance, and fatherhood.

Even in the afterlife, he's still getting manhandled by large frames and crushed by Prime valve because the Thirteen aren't letting go of their piss-baby secretary that they trained considerably. He's like the universe's angriest energizer bunny attached to the most horniest spike with never-ending transfluid production. Sure, he had traitorous plans, but that all fell wayside with sex, bitties, and a lot of pampering.

[angelyuji]

got any fiddleford trad!spousing us? idk

cw // implied noncon, pregnancy, religion

18+!! minors dni!!

hmmm see im not good with fiddleford but i def think that he'd be into housewife type life. he feels like a southern, traditional man, so i can see him convincing you to give up college to be his spouse and parent to his children. also if you can get pregnant, he's DEF getting you pregnant and being like "start taking online courses" "unenroll for the semester" "the stress isn't good for the baby :("

also if you're religious, trad!fidds would def use religion to manipulate you.

[procyonloser]

Serial killer au pt 6 (warnings so many warnings, I'm putting up read more early. This dove is dead)

Before he was Lucifer, he was Sam. Sam had been born into a large family, his parents were closer related than most knew, loveless in their relationship, but the idea of divorce was tantamount to murder. They were well off, but insular, devout, but they spoke little of their faith, only their hate. There was no music, no art, no singing, no dancing, only silence. His parents both believed in not sparing the rod from the child, making sure all of the children stayed in line. They were beaten, starved, and treated as labor.

Sam had younger siblings that didn't make it to see double digits, and he remembered the wedding of his 14 year old sister to a man in the church was a solemn and quiet affair. She didn't survive long either. His parents spoke of her death as preferable to what happened to one of his siblings, who'd fallen to drink and earthly desires. One of his younger sisters grew pregnant, and no one said a thing about it, apart from the fury he would see on his mother's face. He never knew what happened to the infant, or who the father was, but he had his suspicions.

Sam began to realize he wanted to get away from them, the town, the state, what he knew. He wanted more than this, more than people contemplating his grave silently, so glad he'd done so little with his existence.

Sam left, left them all behind. He decided to go into medicine, because the human body always fascinated him. There were times when he watched porn, that he was more focused on how the body moved, reacted, how it functioned. It'd been fascinating to him, when he started studying cadavers in school, it was his first taste of true artistry. It was the first time he felt truly inspired, to physically and literally peel back the layers of what made people tick. The realization he could make them take whatever form he wished for.

His teacher was the first time notice that he was maybe more intrigued by the bodies than other students in the class.

"Perfect, you're doing very well." Lucifer said softly, running his hand through Adam's hair. It was soft, with gentle waves. Without gel in it, like the night he'd first met Adam, the hair fell down into his eyes and gave Adam a far more gentle imagery than he would have thought.

Sam had never gotten praise, so Lucifer knew he had to be the one to encourage Adam.

Adam breathed out onto his face mask, looking down at the body in deep concentration as he used a needle and fishing line to sew pieces of the musculature together. Lucifer had asked him what art Adam wanted to create, if he was to be helping him. He knew Adam had seen him initially as just a killer, he'd not understand Lucifer's purpose. He understood, of course, he had been about to kill Adam - a man he'd initially seen as a nuisance, a loud pock mark on society that could have served a better uses dead than alive.

Lucifer was glad he'd been wrong about Adam now, he'd never had anyone he could talk to before. Not like this.

Adam let out a shaky breath as he finished up stitching that piece, before looking up at Lucifer with a crooked smile. He needed Lucifer's praise as much as Lucifer enjoyed giving it to him, feeding him.

"Does it look okay?" Adam asked, and Lucifer kissed him.

"Art is individual, it's personal, and it's never perfect, except that imperfection makes it perfect. You're learning, and I can tell you and I will do great things." Lucifer said, and Adam leaned into the kiss, deepening it. He knew that at first Adam had been having sex with him with the idea it would buy him freedom, or the chance at it; but now, there was honest affection in it.

Of course, Lucifer was still not intending to let him move about freely yet. Maybe ever. There was no need to, he'd take care of Adam himself. He was cuter like this anyway, reliant on him.

Lucifer's phone rang, and he made a face, breaking away from Adam to go take the call.

"Sam?" Lilith's voice came over the speaker. "Charlie wants to see you, honey, will you be home late again tonight?"

"I'll be home to put her to bed and read her a story," Lucifer smiled to himself, leaning against the wall in the hallway. "I have to be at work early tomorrow though, you know how busy it's been."

"I know," Lilith said, sounding a bit put out by his response. "I just miss seeing you."

"I miss you too," Lucifer said without missing a beat. He did, to some degree. He missed Charlie more, he did honestly love his daughter, he hoped she'd eventually see his art the way he did. "But, such is the life of a coroner when there's a serial killer on the loose."

[prismbearer]

Do you think the idea of severance came from Harmony's own desire to be free of the grief and ties to the labor they endured at that Factory?

[non4ry]

I wonder who I'd be If all these bad things Didn't happen to me

[horror-aesthete]

The First Omen, 2024, dir. Arkasha Stevenson

[charred-angel-ribs]

An interaction I just had with my brothers a few minutes ago:

*Watching Hannibal*

Brother A: This is like The Bible

Me: Hold on, pause.

*He pauses the TV*

Me: Elaborate?

Brother A: In The Bible, Mary gets pregant, not with Joseph's baby, and he's just got to take her somewhere to have this baby that isn't his. He doesn't do anything. He's irrelevant. Mary gets pregant with God, and Joseph has nothing to do with it. That's Jack [Crawford].

Brother B: Joseph just sees Gabriel walk out of his house and suddenly Mary's pregant.

Brother A: Yeah, exactly, and Joseph's just stood there.

Me: Wait, so- are you comparing Hannibal to Gabriel or God? What- I mean, you're comparing Will and Hannibal to Mary either Gabriel or God - I assume Will's Mary.

Brother B: It depends which one gets him pregant 🤷‍♂️.

Me:

Me: You're going on the Hellsite.

[deerboybreeder]

I'll put my hands over your womb and make that warm pressure pulse and vibrate with melting pleasure.

It does react like that! It's a faint little something if you're not doing it intentionally, but I imagine if you're doing it on purpose it will be, a lot more intense. Its mostly made out of massively intense sensation after all, maybe that's good for it? I know it feels good for me to be reminded I'm an incubator for a gods will, so.

[narsildur]

Okay so possibly interesting Severance CEO observation incoming. This post only discusses s1 content so unless you haven’t seen the show at all you are safe!!!

Right so it’s implied that every CEO succeeds their parent (aside from Myrtle and Ambrose, and assumedly Leonora and Jame since there’s 5 ish years between them).

What I realised is that other than Kier and Jame, every Eagan becomes a parent VERY young, 16/17/18. Their dates of birth and death are all shown in the perpetuity wing, other than Jame who is assumed to be in his 60’s.

Myrtle had Baird at 16 (unless he was Ambrose’s child then Ambrose was 17), Baird had Gerhardt at 18, Gerhardt had Phillip at 17, then Phillip had Leonora at 18 and then Jame some time after 23 (if we assume Leonora and Jame as siblings which makes the most sense to me).

Kier had his children in his 40’s and we learn that Helena is 30 which means Jame had her in his 30’s, and unless we are about to get some insane lore drop Helena doesn’t have children.

I think this trend is very reminiscent of the religious and cult themes the show has going on, but it also scratches my brain telling me there is something else happening there. Perhaps something to do with the idea of false truth and fabrication of the Eagan story and history. I wonder also if there is something about Leonora and Jame that is important that we are yet to learn, she did have the shortest reign apart from Ambrose.

I don’t really have any concrete thoughts other than ‘it’s interesting and weird and I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s relevant to the mystery that is unfolding’ and I wondered if anyone else has any thoughts about it!

- I also think that there can be a metaphor created about how Helena severed herself and the innies are referred to as children, like it’s not a plot point theory just a narrative theme perhaps.

ALSO thank you @kendrysaneela for telling me to post this and letting me be insane about this show 🙏🏻

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖 "Medically Necessitated" Story Masterlist

Rated: Explicit Pairing: Bucky x Steve Tags: a/b/o, age gap, past rape, rape recovery, pregnancy, trauma recovery, medical trauma, hurt/comfort, mentions of CSA, religious fundamentalism, gender dysphoria Summary: After a medical emergency brings him into the ER, Bucky escapes the religious cult he's been raised in. It's up to Steve, nurse practitioner and omega sex & repro specialist, to see him through a medically supervised heat.

1. Jori 2. Jerrica 3. Bucky 4. Bucky - cont'd 5. Robert Wheeler 6. Fatimah 7. Bucky - cont'd 8. Connor 9. Rebecca 10. Bea

A.N. As per usual, I'm playing with age gap relationships and have thus made the in-universe age of majority 19 instead of 18, to avoid any antis getting their panties (ha! rhymes) in a twist and reporting me to the Tumblr police. Bucky is 18-19, Steve is 31.

Housekeeping:

Trigger Warning: This fic contains occasional mentions of Steve's patients, who deal with issues of csa, sa, abortion, ptsd, and other traumas. Bucky is in the immediate aftermath of a rape at the story's start.

[boundinparchment]

Per Aspera Ad Inferni - I

“You’ll come to me eventually, one way or another.” When a certain heretical Harbinger is proven right, you embark on a journey to redefine what it means to be divine. Sequel to 'Con Clavi'. Rated Mature, subject to change. Read tags on AO3 before proceeding. Dead Dove, Do Not Eat.

Available on AO3 only

[s1ckwrit3r]

plot where a selfish and controlling dom takes a pretty little thing and turns her into his baby making machine. knocking her up over and over again, very little break in between as he can never keep his hands off her and his d1ck out of her for long. it doesn’t matter what she wants as long as he’s happy and it gets him hard. bonus points for t4boo and other heavy k1nks.

[incense-and-nonsense]

"Waiting on God," By Rowan Williams, former Archbishop of Canterbury, preached to members and friends of the Movement for the Ordination of Women, 1992; image: The Annunciation, H. O. Tanner, 1898.

"When she first sensed the urgency of God's Word inside her, the longing of God to be there, in this body, "in my acts and words," the first feeling was a mixture of fear and exhilaration. God had begun to exist in her belly, not through the work of any man, but out of a kind of meeting of her longing and God's. How can anyone carry God, bring God to birth in the world? How can you carry the cup without spilling it? But what if the cup is no fragile container but a deep well that can never run dry? Then you know it isn't just your resource, your decision, but God's insistent generosity, carrying you as you carry God.

Her body changed, her face changed. She was no longer on the edge of things, a mere extra in the spiritual drama. As she went around, her body spoke to other women: others with unlikely pregnancies, early and late, recognized her, and what was in them lepr up in greeting. Conspiracies of Hope.

Her body changed. Men and some women stared and began to ask about legitimacy; some friends slipped away. Her partner, even, for a while was wretched and embarrassed. She began to think: why does God ask this when it makes me so exposed to their doubt and cynicism? Things were no longer simple. Was God's longing bound up with her humiliations? Was God another male working out his fancy through her flesh?

Her body changed and rebelled. She was sick with her new lodger, her new intruder, the alien growth of God within her. At times her body itself seemed a humiliation, a nauseating burden; as if all the old words about earthly uncleanliness were right after all, as if a woman's body really were a compound of disgusting things. Sometimes she would wash her clothes obsessively, over and over, to get the smell of nausea off them. What did it mean that women could evoke such shame and fear and disgust in men? For a while some of that shame made sense, and her body with its heavy burdens seemed an awful stranger, and she could cry, "Why did you make me thus?"

The first real movements inside were like waking from a bad dream. Feet and hands pushing, a whole life suddenly there like a lover's footstep on the stairs, bringing you back from terrors and suspicions to what you know and trust. It is life after all: not just something about me but something with authority, something more than me, that will make a difference to more than me. "But," she thought, "that means I don't know what will happen when this does come into the world: here is something that is most profoundly me, my flesh and blood, the sheer stuff of me, depending on me and vulnerable to me; and yet it is not me and will be strange and impenetrable to me." And sometimes, then, she felt afraid again, and sometimes the old anger came back: "Why give me a task so full of contradictions, a path of knives to tread?" Too much hope for comfort; too much restlessness for comfort; and at the same time too much solid reality, too much vigor and promise, for the anger and the fear to fill the whole sky.

Some births are terrible. There are miscarriages and still births. Sometimes whe wondered if this would end in death, nor birth; and sometimes, looking around, she thought that was what the staring faces wanted. Not a birth, a beginning, but a great bloody wound, with life running out like blood. And she wondered how to live with that, with the whole thing ending in loss and diminution, all te risks for nothing. All she could think of was that there was something that couldn't be lost: knowing that once her flesh had been what God wanted so as to make God's Word present, and that perhaps the fear of terrible loss could also be God speaking. She didn't let herself think a great deal about that, because she didn't know--and no one else could tell her--how to live through a wound like that so as to make even the loss speak of God. And if it could speak of God, it would not be a God familiar to those who speak most easily of God.

What manner of child might this be? She thought a lot about the stranger she would bring into the world, hers and not hers. She thought about how the new life she had mothered would put hers in question: she wouldn't stop changing when she had given birth, the relation would always be with a presence both utterly strange and utterly intimate. When the waiting was over, the world wouldn't just end--easy to think that, perhaps, when the time came, problems would be solved and tears wiped away and the kingdom would begin. Well, she knew in some part of herself that that couldn't be so: the world would go on and tears would still be shed. Still, something would be different. A connection would have been made, between God and the bodies of women, God and the desires of women, that would change for ever what was said about God and the bodies and desires of men--wouldn't it? Though it would not be all at once. The whole process of bringing the Word to birth, with all its strangeness, the tearing and distancing, was all moving toward some moment when, with the pain of truthfulness and respect, God and men and women might be able to look at and speak with each other without the fear of violence and disgust she had felt so harshly. That, she thought, that is why the Word is given, that is the desire of God: that is the difference.

As the time got closer, nothing became easier. It was as if there was some kind of test ahead and no way of guessing if the body was strong enough to bear it. What had been inner and in a way secret was going to become public. People would see what she had brought to birth; she would be judged in a new way, she would have a new place, a new name because of what was coming to be. Her body changed; her identity would change. Even if the worst terrors were not realized, she would change. She would be vindicated, or she would mourn as never before. But she had been touched, she had been inhabited by grace, by a summons, a gift, of being wholly trusted. She could look back into the eyes of her staring neighbors and say, "The Almighty has done great things for me; the Almighty has done great things in me. He has not abhorred this flesh as you do."

When the Word was brought forth it would be to her what it would be to all--judgment, promise, food and drink, absolution, communion. But the long waiting, the containing, the holding inside herself the dangerous difference that God's Word would make, the building up the living presence of the Word by her history, her patience, her anger, and her trust, by the fluids of her soul and her body--about that there was something distinctive. Not a privilaged access, not even an exclusive intimacy, but a unique coloring of the love that would be open to all. For the Word is never for human beings in general, but is always colored by a secret connection special to each. And this would be hers, that she had waited with the Word, her patience and her impatience bound up in and with the Word's; as if God in her, bringing the divine purpose to reality, was learning the patience of flesh and the risks and hurts that make up the world.

Whose story is this? It is the story of the woman we celebrate today, the story of the women we celebrate here tonight. We shall celebrate better though, if for all of us there is a spark of recognition here. Some at least of this is the story of every Christian, called and gifted, hopeful and frightened by the Word they must learn to give into the world. We shall learn more about celebrating Mary and her sisters if we can see that they are living out in the immediacy of their flwah and blood what we all face something of: God's desire.

We must all discover how to say to it the "yes" that aknowledges how it is bound up with our own desire. And we must press insistenrlt on whatever it is in us and in our church that bushes back divine and human longing, praying that the Word will go on being flesh and speech and bread in the lives of women."