#tw; fertility problems

[the-smallest-star]

"... its fine, didn't even want kids."

[percival-c-mcleach]

It took them a while to have Roxie.

[alien-magnolia]

You Saved Me

Tw: logan howlett x fem!reader, domestics, description of childbirth/pregnancy, breeding knk, fem/mutant! reader, domestics, Logan being so caring <3 18+ MDNI

A/n: please support your creators and reblog if you love this content <3 xoxo, Liz

——-

You never believed in being absolutely crushed, enamored with someone just from one instance of meeting. Just from one glance. That never fell to be true. Until you met Logan.

He saved you from Striker’s Island, saved you from life in a cage, life as an experiment, carrying you off the grounds of the facility because you had a broken leg. He was so caring, so gentle, with you that day.

You sobbed as the bone in your leg bulged out, itching to relieve itself in the fresh air, away from the mess that was your thigh. “I know it hurts. Just hold on to me, yeah? Won’t let anything happen to you,” he consoles, his gruff voice and warm, heaving chest a comfort to you as the pain from your leg was asinine — slowly killing you.

He was gentle on the night you eloped, as well. The two of you fell enamored with each other in only a span of a few months. You needed each other to heal. The two of you spend some time away from the X-mansion, back in the outskirts of the Colorado mountains.

“Let me carry you over these rocks, bub. Don’t want you to strain yourself,” he chided at you, and once again, those strong, hairy arms you loved so much, picked you up as if you weighed nothing, and carried you to the edge of the cliff. “It’s beautiful here, Logan,” you exclaim in quiet awe. “It’s nice. Private,” he replies, a large hand coming to cup your face. “You saved me, bub. After losing my brother, having all these god-fuckin’ awful memories. Had so much pain,” he sighs. “I know. You’re safe now, Lo,” your hands cup his cheeks, pulling him into a slow and chaste kiss.

—-

“Can’t! Can’t take it anymore — Lo!!,” you squealed, as his broad chest pressed up against your back, all the chest hair leaving marks on your back. His large hands cradling your front, occasionally squeezing at your plush tits, his grunts animalistic. “Doing so well, sweetheart. Taking me so well. Give me one more squeeze bub, I know you can,” he reassures, as you feel like you’re about to explode from his thick, eight inch cock ramming into you, over and over.

You’re in complete bliss as you feel his seed seeping into you. You were fertile. You were his. His claws come out as he finishes, almost touching your neck. He pulled them back quickly, checking if you were okay. “Love you so much, sweetheart. You’re my moon, I’m your Wolverine,” he whispers, as he rolls you over onto your back, wiping you with a towel. He lays down next to you, cradling you on his big chest, in an almost paternal way.

You were safe, you were loved.

He continued being the softest, gentle, man that he could be, with you. Even when the both of you returned to the Mansion. He would constantly check in on you if you were teaching class, advising the students of how you gained control of your telepathy. He would always make sure you went to bed at a reasonable time, and that you wouldn’t over exert yourself while teaching.

His love and care for you was innately fierce, and it grew even more fervorous when you told him you were pregnant. You’ve never seen the man so happy.

He was insanely protective over you. He was your shadow, always around where you were. If another at the mansion even so simply looked at you, he would get defensive. “We got a problem here?,” he would ask, claws slowly inching out. They would shake their head quickly and walk away.

He would hold back your hair as you had morning sickness, constantly ill. He would tell you everything would be okay, as you gained a bit of weight, as your hormones raged out of control.

“What do you need, bub? Water? I can make you somethin’ to eat too, don’t hold out on me, now,” he asks, as he walks into your kitchen after a long day of working with Charles on a new project. You sniffle, “I never knew pregnancy would be this hard, Lo. I’m losing it.” “Hey. You’re still my moon, y’ know. You saved me, sweetheart. Still love ya just the same, even if you’re all heavy with my kid. It’s a new life we made,” he reassures, bringing you in to the safe haven of his chest again. You smile warmly, as he continues to hold you.

He was there with you for the birth. You were in so much pain, and he held you — every step of the way. When the infant was finally out, the three of you spent hours just laying together, having skin to skin contact. “My moon. Did so well f’me, sweetheart,” he tells you, as you have your infant laying on his chest, and your fingers gently touch his beard.

He saved you, after all.

A/n: I want this man in a very bad way, a very, very, very, very bad way. Screaming. References here are from original X men movie and X men origins: Wolverine.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Kesselring and telling him you’re pregnant

TW: Issues with conceiving/fertility issues Requests are open for specific people only, please see my pinned post for details :) Writing Masterlist

Two little pink lines.

It's interesting, how two tiny lines can change everything, how they can be so important. You've been waiting for months to see those two lines...trying and failing time and time again to get pregnant. The trying was fun, sure, but there were only so many times you could get a negative test result before it started to get to you and started to feel like there was something wrong.

It was getting to the point of frustrating. Michael was disappointed each time, God, he wanted to be a dad really bad, but you? God, you felt like your heart was being ripped out, like something was wrong with you. You were starting to feel like you were broken...but the doctors just told you to be patient, it could take time. It didn't help when you saw people around you seemingly able to get pregnant with ease, it felt like you were the problem.

Michael was good about it, always reassuring you that it was fine, it was natural for it to take time, that it wasn't your fault. It takes two to tango or to make a baby as he often said and just because you weren't getting pregnant didn't mean it was you that had the issues, it could have been him, it could just have been that time was required.

So you're a little shocked when you finally see those two lines...your instant reaction is to tell Michael except he's not around. He wasn't going to be back from his roadie for another day or two and this didn't feel like the sort of thing you were supposed to tell your husband over the phone.

So you do the responsible thing. You go to the doctors and get another pregnancy test done, final confirmation that you are in fact pregnant, 6 weeks to be exact. You hold that information in and try to act normal in your evening calls with Michael even though you're desperate to tell him.

You want to do something cute to tell him, a jersey with Daddy across the back or something, but there's no time. Not between work and Michael being at the end of his roadie. So you plan instead to just tell him, a buzz of excitement and nerves filling you because God, you've both been waiting for this for so long.

When he walks through the door after the roadie you try to greet him like normal; a kiss to the cheek, a big hug, a breathing in of his cologne, taking in the fact he's back and he's here. But, Michael's always been good at reading you. He notices right away that something is off.

"What's wrong? You look like something is wrong? Did something happen while I was gone?" He's already looking around the house behind you, seeing what's out of place, what's gone wrong. Big palms on your shoulders, reassuring, protective like he thinks there's a burglar in the house.

"Nothing is wrong...far from it." You wrap your arms around his waist, chin resting in the centre of his chest to look at him, a small smile starting, excited. Excited because you can't wait for his reaction. Excited because this is everything you've both been waiting for for months now.

"Oookay?" His worry fades to a smile, a little confused, but still a smile, brown eyes staring, waiting for you to tell him more, to stop being so cryptic.

"I'm pregnant."

Michael blinks. Once. Twice. Three times. Like his brain has short circuited a little bit, brain stopping to process the fact you've just told him the words he's been waiting to hear for months.

"A-are...are you serious?" Lips parting, licking his bottom lip, breathing coming out slow and shallow like he doesn't quite believe you yet.

"I'm pregnant, Michael." You start to smile as you watch the way that Michael starts to process it, starts to realise what you're actually saying.

"You're pregnant."

"I'm pregnant."

"You're pregnant!" It's like it suddenly catches up to him, like his brain finishes processing because you're suddenly encapsulated in his arms, pulled tight against him as he picks you up for a moment, off your feet and spins you. It makes you feel slightly nauseous but you can't help but laugh, smacking his shoulder to put you down.

When you're back on solid ground Michael is leaning down towards you, forehead pressing against yours, nose nuzzling your own, the biggest, goofiest grin on his face.

"I'm going to be dad..."

"Yeah." You're grinning now, he's grinning too. Two goofy idiots just smiling at each other like you've won the lottery, like you'd had all your prayers answered because well, you have.

"You're gonna be a mom."

"Yeah."

"Fuck..." It's like he's still just processing and you don't mind. Don't mind the quiet, don't mind the silent way he stares at you, all the love in the world in his eyes because you get it. You totally get it. It's almost too good to be true but oh, is it good.

[hunzzzzz]

OBX TWEETS: part 17 (Rafe Cameron x reader x John B SMAU)

A/N: some writing at the end. don't miss it!

TW: daddy issues

To say you'd been "checked out" for the past week was an understatement. Your daddy issues had always been the punchline of a self-deprecating joke, the kind that gets a nervous chuckle and a quick subject change. But deep down, you knew that particular brand of emotional baggage wasn't just a problem; it was the fertile ground from which all your other charming neuroses bloomed.

Your parents' relationship wasn't exactly a gentle stream flowing through a meadow. More like a constant, head-on collision between two very stubborn, very loud freight trains (unless you count your eventual trust issues as a logical outcome of witnessing the wreckage).

You were the resident eavesdropper, a tiny, silent gargoyle perched atop the stairs, knees tucked so tightly to your chest you could practically feel your kneecaps fusing. The yelling was the soundtrack to your childhood, a discordant symphony of slammed doors and raised voices.

Then, one day, the music stopped. Not a fade-out, more like a sudden, jarring silence. And just like that, the man who was supposed to be your superhero vanished into thin air. Your mom, bless her tight-lipped heart, offered no grand explanations, no dramatic pronouncements. Just a simple, devastating "Daddy's not coming back." At eight years old, that sentence was a linguistic black hole, sucking up all understanding and leaving behind a void.

Fast forward eleven years, past a graveyard of missed birthdays, silent Christmases, and Thanksgivings where his absence was a louder guest than anyone present. He didn't show up for your high school graduation, a milestone that apparently ranked at the bottom on his list of priorities.

And it was in those years, navigating the minefield of adolescence and burgeoning adulthood, that you truly began to catalogue the sheer, unadulterated damage his disappearing act had inflicted.

Your teenage years were a masterclass in misguided control. Since you couldn't control whether a parent stuck around, you decided to control the one thing you absolutely could: your own body. Turns out, an eating disorder is a fantastic (and by fantastic, I mean soul-crushingly awful) way to feel like you're in charge when your world has gone completely sideways.

And relationships?  You were the queen of the emotional hit-and-run. Anything past the one-month mark felt less like a budding romance and more like an impending disaster.

The script was always the same: they'd either get fed up with your expertly crafted emotional unavailability (a skill honed over years of practice, thank you very much) or you'd execute a swift, silent ghosting – your signature move. It wasn't conscious, not really. More like a highly effective, deeply inconvenient trauma response.

After the original heartbreak, delivered by the man who was supposed to be your ultimate protector, you never quite rebuilt the part of you that knew how to stay. So, you perfected the art of abandoning ship, because being the one who left felt a hell of a lot better than being left again.

Letting anyone new into the inner sanctum of your messy, complicated self was like asking you to perform open-heart surgery with a rusty spoon. Terrifying didn't even begin to cover it.

The thought of someone seeing the darkest corners of your mind, the echoes of that original wound, and then choosing to walk away? Your nervous system literally couldn't tell the difference between vulnerability and getting shot at point blank.

You decided to walk back to John B’s from work. The chateau wasn’t exactly down the road. Given your recent car troubles you usually got Rafe or John B to pick and drop you from work. But these days you enjoyed walking.

Headphones on, world off. Your standard defense mechanism was in full effect, drowning out everything but the carefully curated soundtrack to your current state of advanced avoidance. You were so deep in the rabbit hole of your own making you almost clotheslined Rafe, who was leaning against his truck like he owned the street.

"You're avoiding me," he said, no preamble, just the accusation hanging in the air as he stepped closer.

You mumbled a "Sorry," yanking off your headphones like they were suddenly too loud, your gaze fixed firmly on the ground. "Just been busy." The lamest excuse in the book, but it was all you had.

Your previous setup with Rafe had been demolished. You'd practically lived at his place, especially after the fallout with your mom when you got back from rehab making home feel less like a sanctuary and more like a battlefield. Rafe's bed was a five-star resort compared to your aunt's lumpy sofa.

Then came the fight. Just a few lines, a shift in his usual easygoing dynamic, but it had felt like a physical blow. All that tough-girl bitch fasacde? A paper-thin shield. You were raw and exposed underneath.

The sudden anger in his words, the sheer force of his frustration – it had tripped a wire deep inside you. Your built-in eject button was slammed. He's pissed. He's going to bail.

You had convinced yourself you were unlovable, too damaged to make a relationship work. The thought wasn't logical, but it was loud, a siren screaming through your brain. The only way to control the inevitable was to trigger it yourself. Pull the pin. Run.

So you'd been bunking at John B's, ignoring Rafe's attempts to reach you for the past seven days. Your friends weren't stupid; they knew the whole "my deadbeat dad is back" drama was only part of the story. They just waited, blessedly, letting you self-destruct in peace.

“You know,” Rafe started, his voice rough, etched with hurt, "I was hoping your phone spontaneously combusted. I was seriously considering 'missing persons report.' Figured it was more likely than you just not answering my calls for a week." He rubbed his temples, the gesture speaking volumes about his stress.

You stared resolutely at the ground, the worn-out treads of your sneakers suddenly fascinating. Any attempt to speak would shatter the fragile composure you were desperately clinging to.

"Can't even look at me?" A heavy, frustrated sigh. Then, gently, his fingers were under your chin, lifting your head until your watery gaze was trapped by his. "Baby, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I blew up at you."

"It's okay," the words were thin and unconvincing, accompanied by a weak, wobbly smile.

"No, it's not okay." He shook his head slowly, his eyes scanning your face, cataloging the damage the past week had wrought. The dark smudges beneath your eyes, skin unnaturally pale despite the relentless summer sun. It was a clear report card of sleepless nights and relentless anxiety.

"Are you mad at me?" He asked, his voice softer now, taking your hands in his. You managed a small shake of your head.

"Are you upset with me, then?" His eyes searched yours, a silent question begging for an answer you couldn't give. "What is it, then? Just tell me. What did I do?" His voice climbed, a note of desperation making it sharp.

The sound transported you, stripping away the years until you were that small, scared child huddled at the top of the stairs, the sound of yelling echoing around you.

Tears welled instantly, spilling over and tracking down your cheeks. You recoiled, stepping away, instinctively wrapping your arms around yourself, shrinking inward.

"Hey, hey," Rafe was there in an instant, circling you, his arms gentle as he pulled you into a hug. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell."

You collapsed against him, deep, racking sobs tore through you, shaking your entire frame. Your face pressed into his chest, soaking the front of his shirt. He held you close, rocking you side to side in his arms.

"It's okay," he said quietly, his voice low and comforting, guiding you towards the open door of his truck. "We don't have to figure it all out right now." He helped you in. "Let's just go home, yeah?"

You knew exactly where home was.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

"I missed you so fucking much," Rafe groaned, pulling you into him, tangling you both in the sheets.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled into his chest, the apology a small, inadequate offering for the week of silence. "I... I don't know why I'm like this." 

It was a lie, a reflex born of habit, because you knew exactly the root of this twisted behavior.

"It's okay," he murmured, his hand stroking your hair.

"No," you pushed yourself up, crossing your legs on the bed. "It's really not."

He sat up with you, leaning against the headboard, his expression open, waiting. He didn't demand answers, just reached out, his fingers finding yours, lacing them together, his thumb stroking the back of your hand.

The words felt like shards of glass in your throat. "I'm a leaver," you choked out, the confession a raw wound.  "That's what I do. When things get... real, or tough, I run. It feels like it's just... in my programming. Part of the factory settings." 

You finally looked away, shame heating your cheeks. "So when we argued... it felt like the beginning of the end. And I just thought it would be easier to... handle the exit myself."

"Baby," Rafe's grip tightened slightly on your hand, his voice soft but firm. "That was a stupid argument. My fault. It wasn't the end of anything."

"You don't want this, Rafe," you insisted, shaking your head, a dry, humorless laugh escaping you. "Trust me. Because this is what you get. Someone who disappears, who shuts down, who builds walls the second things get hard. No one in their right mind would sign up for that."

"Well, maybe I'm not in my right mind then," a faint smile touched his lips, but his eyes were serious. "Listen to me. I see the walls. I see you pushing. And yeah, it hurts like hell. But I also see you. The person underneath all that. The person who's been through some serious shit and is still standing. Still sarcastic. Still amazing."

He squeezed your hand again. "And I don't care if you push. I'm starting to understand how your defense mechanisms work. I just... I want to be here for you. If you'll let me."

Your throat felt tight, your eyes blurring again. "I don't know how," you whispered, the admission a painful one. "I don't know how to... let anyone help me."

A flicker of hurt crossed his face. "Like you do with your friends?" The question hung in the air, unspoken acknowledgment that he meant John B.

"It's just... easier with him."

"How?" His voice was gentle, curious, not accusatory. He genuinely wanted to bridge the gap.

"He knows," you explained, the words finally flowing, carrying the weight of years. "He was there. When my dad left. He knows the before and the after. He knows all the messy parts. I don't have to explain. He just... gets it. Automatically."

Rafe nodded slowly, a dawning comprehension softening his expression. "So... that's what this week was about? Your dad?"

You nodded, a hesitant dip of your head. Swallowing hard, your stomach twisting with nerves, you made the decision. A leap of faith. He'd stayed through your silence. He was still here, holding your hand. You wanted this to work. You wanted him to last. 

And then you started talking. The words tumbled out – the sudden reappearance, the complicated, painful history, the gaping wound of the "daddy issues." You laid it all out, the ugly parts, the fear, the feeling of being fundamentally flawed. And as you spoke, pouring out years of buried pain, the weight on your chest began to lift, just a fraction.

"Baby," Rafe murmured when you finished, pulling you into a fierce hug, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, the other stroking a soothing path down your spine. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. Trust me, I know a thing or two about shitty dads."

"I'm sorry I don't... open up," you mumbled into his shirt, the apology feeling small but necessary. "It's just... hard. Because if I let myself feel things, if I let someone see... all of it..." You pulled away from him, meeting his eyes. "...I'm terrified they'll leave. That you'll leave." The confession was a quiet ache in the air. "It's easier to be the one who walks away than to stand there and watch someone else do it. It hurts less to expect it than to be blindsided."

"Listen to me," he said, his voice low and earnest. "I know that's your default setting. I know you've been hurt. But I'm not him." He paused, letting the unspoken name hang in the air, acknowledging the shadow of your father. "I'm not going anywhere just because things get a little messy, or because you're having a tough time, or because you show me the parts you try to hide."

"I'm here. And I'm staying. You pushing me away for a week? It didn't make me want to leave. It made me worry. It made me want to figure out what was going on. It made me realize... how much you mean to me." He reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands.

"I'm not going to leave you, baby. Not for this. Not for anything." His voice was a solemn promise, etched with sincerity. "You don't have to be afraid of falling apart in front of me. I'm not going to leave no matter how much you run, I’ll chase you to the ends of the earth.”

"When you're shutting down, tell me. Just a word. 'I need space.' 'I'm freaking out.' Something. So I'm not left guessing. Communicate what's going on. Okay? Can you do that?" He continued.

"I can do that. I'm gonna work on it,” you promised him, and you meant it.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

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[oliver-the-farmer]

Oliver x Sick Reader

Because I’m sick and cold and wanna die

Uhhhnnnghgnnnm….. Tw throw up and sickness stuff I guess idk I’ll format this later when I’m not dying

oliver is as we know, a complete sweetheart

Not quite a golden retriever… more like… uhhhhhhnnnn…

An Australian shepherd. Yhea. That’s what he is.

And he’s completely doting on you if you’re sick. The moment the words “I’m not feeling” are out of your mouth his nonexistent ears are perking straight up.

If there’s any natrual remedies he knows, he’s making them. If not then he’s grabbing a book from the library. Cooking, not baking.

Though, he does make marshmallows for your sore throat. Swears it works wonders, his momma used to make it for his siblings when they were little.

If you refuse medicine this is the one time Oliver will be aggressive. He is not afraid to shove it down your throat. In the nicest way possible, of course.

He goes online and makes soups and stuff that are meant to help. You know corpse bride, “your cup will never empty for I will be your wine”?

Your cup will never empty because he is bringing you tea and water.

He’s a “I don’t care if you’re sick, I’m still kissing you” kind of guy. When he leaves the room he gives you a kiss on the forehead and three squeezes of your hand to tell you ‘I love you.’

Oliver has a strong immune system because he used to eat dirt as a small child so he truly almost never gets sick. It’s once in a blue moon.

He’ll bring his keyboard into the bedroom and play music for you if you need help falling asleep. Any song you want. If he doesn’t know how to play it, he’ll figure it out!

His love language is acts of service. He likes doing things for you to show you how much he cares.

You’re throwing up? He makes you rice and holds your hair back as you throw up. He isn’t a puppet who’s disgusted by bodily functions, and his sense of smell has been filled by the fertilizer he handles,

So he also cleans up any mess you make by hand.

“Darlin’, it really ain’t a problem… honest. I don’ mind doin’ this.”

He gives you instructions on what you are allowed to do and what you ARENT allowed to do while sick

If he catches you doing something you aren’t supposed to, such as household chores or— gasp— work—

It’s straight back to bed with you. And how does he get you back in bed?

He carries you by hand. Picks you up (very gently, princess style carry, he would never dream of carrying you the way he carries his flour and potatoes,) and brings you straight back into the bedroom.

“No, you listen’ here… you aren’t leavin’ this bed until you’re all better. I don’ care how good you say you feel, you wobble when you stand…”

If you complain about being lonely? He stays with you in the bedroom, cuddling you as much as you want and nearly tripping over himself when you ask for something.

Lotssss of affirmation. His fingers are tracing idly on your arm or thigh or nose (or the blank space there) and he’s murmuring about what you two can do when you’re all better and what’s happening outside, talking about his dsy, saying how much he cares about you…

“The daffodils are bloomin’ now, darlin’… you want me to go down and pick some for you?”

“I hope you know how much I love you, honest to god… I aint never felt like this.”

“You won’t be sick too long… you’ll get better soon, I’ll help you, ain’t no need for tears..”

He isn’t usually very handsy.. unless you want him to be. If you ask, he’ll press himself as close to you as he can get. Running his fingers through your hair and humming under his breath.

His voice.. is not the most classically trained. It’s decent at most. A few mistakes here and there, a couple of flat notes.. but he hopes it helps you.

He’ll pull you on top of him so he can place your head onto his chest, or he’ll do the opposite and place his head close to yours so he can listen to your heartbeat

If I think of more I’ll add it in and update this

[aphroditelovesu]

Yan!Husband Maegor the Cruel/Six Wives Headcanons (Poly!Romantic)

❝ — 🐉 lady l: This is more based on his wives than on Maegor himself, but I wanted to test something. This is dedicated to dear @gulnarsultan, hope you like it! If you just want one of Maegor, feel free to ask!! ❤️❤️

❝tw: polygamous marriage, murder, jealousy, possessive and obsessive behavior, mention of stillbirths and death on childbirth.

❝🐉pairing: yandere!maegor the cruel x female!reader, yan!six wives x female!reader.

You must have been a very cursed woman when you were chosen to marry Maegor I Targaryen. Not only because he already had wives, but because of his well-known reputation and cruelty.

You begged your parents not to let you marry him, but it wasn't a choice to make. It was an order. Your parents couldn't deny it or they would be killed. Your family was well known in Westeros and had a good reputation for being fertile, maybe that's why he chose you. You cried a lot that day, but you had no choice but to leave for King's Landing.

Once you arrived, you were immediately greeted by one of Maegor's wives, Tyanna of the Tower. You were hesitant with her, knowing the reputation she maintained, but to your surprise, Tyanna had been nothing but kind and courteous to you, explaining everything she could about the court and Maegor. That being said, you quickly warmed to her, hopeful that you had a friend through it all.

The other wives were also nothing but cordial with you, some a little hesitant and others more open, but all kind and polite. You felt calmer about it.

Maegor has an explosive temper and everyone is directed towards his anger, not even you are safe, although you are the only one who can truly calm him down. Whenever he is having a temper tantrum or cruelty, you are called to defuse the situation.

His behavior is violent and difficult, his cruel acts became more common after he became obsessed with you. You must do what he wants, after all, you don't want your family to suffer the consequences, do you?

Ceryse Hightower was as sweet and kind as she could be. She was the warmest to you, hugging you and wishing you happiness and many children. She expected you to give her husband heirs.

She was kind, so sweet to you that she quickly became your friend, your ally. You adored her, and even though she was your husband's first wife, you had no problems with her or she with you. Ceryse has truly come to adore you like a sister.

Alys Harroway was the second wife and one of your closest friends, whom you mourned the loss of your friend deeply. She became pregnant with Maegor and quickly became happy and told you, leaving you excited and Tyanna jealous.

Alys was your closest friend, protective and calm. Her obsession with you was hidden but it was there, and she fiercely protected you from anyone. She wanted to be your only confidence and only friend and that was her undoing, after the disastrous birth.

Tyanna of the Tower was Maegor's most feared wife, and your friend. She was kind and courteous to you, staying by your side and whispering sweet and poisonous words in her ear. She wanted you for herself, not for Maegor or anyone else, she wanted you.

She was largely responsible for Alys' downfall, and Tyanna, even though she liked you, would still be willing to deal with you if you got in her way. She loved sharing you with Maegor, when the three of you slept together and she caressed your belly, sincerely hoping for a child that would be not just yours, but hers as well.

You loved them, all of them, but you couldn't help but feel awkward, especially with Tyanna. However, after Alys' death and the confession that Tyanna was to blame for the abominations being born, she was killed by Maegor and he soon took three wives at once. The Black Brides.

Elinor Costayne was the youngest and the most delicate, gentle and sweet. She quickly warmed up to you and soon stuck to you like gum, much to her surprise. Maegor didn't seem bothered by this, however.

Even after her fertility was proven and she managed to get pregnant with Maegor, the child was stillborn and with wings. She survived the birth, however, and clung to you as a source of protection and affirmation against her husband.

Rhaena Targaryen was one of Maegor's most fearless wives, perhaps because she was from the House of Dragon. She never wanted to marry him, but she was forced to and found comfort with you, in her friendship with you, and came to love you like a sister, in the Targaryen way.

She viewed Maegor with bad eyes and as a threat not only to her but to you. Rhaena couldn't let anything hurt you, not when she was already so attached to you. Her obsession grew and she felt jealous of Maegor when he was with you. It was just a matter of time.

Jeyne Westerling was shy and beautiful, with dreams that didn't include marrying Maegor, but one good thing came out of that marriage, and that was you. You were her only friend in the midst of all this and she considered you above everything and everyone.

You could still feel the fear in Jeyne's voice when she found out she was pregnant, the terror she was feeling. She cried in your arms when she found out, fearing she wouldn't be able to carry a healthy child. You tried to comfort her, but it was in vain, not when she gave birth to yet another abomination and died after giving birth.

You mourned the loss of your friend and Maegor the loss of what could have been a son. Now it was up to you, his beloved wife, to give him what he wanted so much. You were afraid of him, but Maegor loved you in his own way.

Possessive and incredibly cruel, he has no qualms about killing anyone who looks at you the wrong way. You are his, his wife, his Queen. Not from others.

Your life with him would be difficult and although you found comfort in your friendships with the other wives, you still felt lonely, far from your family, and forbidden to leave the Red Keep.

Maegor's possessiveness worsened when he discovered your pregnancy and this time he would be sure he would have the heir he so desired. It doesn't matter what means he has to take for this. You will give birth to a healthy and strong child.

Your fate was sealed the moment he chose you to be his wife.

[vigilante-3073]

Any ideas on how James (Wilson) might react if he and the reader were trying to have a baby but having issues so they went to a doctor and it was revealed that the issues were on his end?

Infertility

James Wilson x Female Reader

Summary: Wilson and his wife have been trying to have children for over two years. They decide to visit a fertility specialist and get some unfortunate news.

TW: Mentions of infertility and fertility treatments, feelings of inadequacy, angst

James Wilson and his wife had been trying to have children for over two years without success. Y/N had done everything that she possibly could to increase their chances of conceiving. She had cut out caffine, changed her diet, started taking supplements, tracked her periods and ovulation. Y/N had even been taking pregnancy tests routinely to see if they would show up positive.

Every negative test seemed to break her heart a little more and having a baby was beginning to feel like an impossible feat.

Wilson was being as supportive as he could and eventually the topic of seeing a specialist came up. Wilson submitted a sample for testing while Y/N had been through multiple imaging tests and blood draws.

Their appointment today was to see what the results of everything had been. Y/N was stressed, but Wilson knew that when they both received a clean bill of health that she would feel much better. They just had to make it through this appointment.

Wilson entered the waiting room of the medical building, quickly spotting his wife in one of the chairs. He made his way over to her, sitting down in the empty chair beside her.

"Hey," He greeted softly.

"Hi," Y/N replied.

"How are you feeling?" Wilson asked.

She huffed, "Terrified," Y/N muttered, her knee bouncing up and down as she tried to calm herself down.

"It's going to be fine," Wilson assured.

"And what if it's not?" Y/N questioned.

"We'll figure it out. There is more than one way to have a baby," Wilson said.

Y/N sighed, taking his hand in her's and intertwining their fingers. He smiled slightly, turning his head and pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Wilson," The nurse called, Y/N stiffened in her seat before the couple quickly stood up. They followed the nurse back down a hallway and into the Doctor's office.

"Have a seat. She'll be right with you," The nurse said, Y/N and Wilson both sat down on the plush chairs in front of the desk.

Wilson looked around the room, inspecting the awards and certificates that lined the walls. He stopped looking around when his eyes finally settled on the model displaying a baby in utero.

That was the first time that Wilson started to feel unsettled, seeing that little plastic fetus on the shelf made his stomach drop. It felt like he had just started to accept that there could possibly be something wrong with either of them that prevented them from having a child.

There was nothing that he wanted more.

The couple became tense as the Doctor made her way into the room, silently making her way over to her desk and sitting down. She set a folder on the desktop and flipped it open, shifting through the paperwork until she found what she was looking for.

"I have some difficult news for you," The Doctor said, looking up at them across the desk.

Y/N felt her eyes begin to gloss over with tears, she gulped nervously, "What did the tests say?" She asked softly.

"Your tests were normal," The Doctor said before her eyes shifted to Wilson, "I'm sorry, Doctor Wilson, but the testing showed that you are infertile," She said.

Wilson stared at the Doctor for a moment as his heart pounded loudly in his ears, "What? What do you mean?" Wilson asked softly.

"Your sperm count is incredibly low and it is highly unlikely that you will ever be able to have children," The Doctor explained.

"It's me? I-I'm the problem?" Wilson asked.

"James-," Y/N started, reaching out for him. He pulled his arm away from her grasp quickly, straightening up in his seat.

"I can't have kids?" Wilson questioned.

"No, I'm sorry," The Doctor said.

"I can't believe this," He mumbled.

"There are many other ways to have children, Doctor Wilson. This doesn't have to keep you from growing your family," The Doctor stated.

"We'll figure it out, honey. It's going to be okay," Y/N assured.

He looked over at her, "I'm sorry," Wilson said softly.

Y/N shook her head quickly, "You don't have anything to be sorry for," She said.

"We can't have kids," Wilson stated.

"We'll find another way," Y/N assured.

....

Wilson sat at a table in the hospital cafeteria, he had a cup of coffee in front of him that was slowly cooling in the small paper cup.

Things had been tense between him and Y/N since they saw the fertility specialist. Wilson felt endlessly guilty for being the reason that Y/N couldn't have children. Wilson was beginning to hate talking about it and shut down whenever the topic of kids was brought up.

He never expected to be the one with the issue and it just felt like a waste of time to keep talking about something that he could never have.

Y/N on the other hand, couldn't get her mind off the topic. She had been doing tons of research into different treatment options and procedures that would allow them to concieve. Every time she brought something new up to him, he could feel himself getting more frustrated. Wilson knew that she wanted this, but his heart wasn't in it anymore.

Y/N could feel him pulling away, but she didn't know why and it seemed to make her double down on finding another treatment option even harder.

It had been almost 8 months since they had seen the fertility specialist. Y/N had been through three unsuccessful rounds of inseminations with sperm donors and they were now beginning to pursue IVF. Wilson assisted Y/N in picking donors and had been giving her the injectable fertility medications she had been prescribed, but other than that she had been alone in her treatments.

Every negative test seemed to devastate her more than the last and Wilson hated it.

Wilson looked up as House sat in the booth across from him, "What's wrong with you?" House asked.

Wilson sighed, "I'm really not in the mood for this right now, House," He replied.

"Why not?" House questioned.

Wilson's phone began to ring on the table, he looked over at it and saw that it was Y/N. House watched him as he declined the call, "Trouble in paradise?" House asked.

"Not today, House, seriously," Wilson said sternly. His phone began to ring again, House snatched it up from the table and answered it before Wilson had the chance to decline the call.

"Doctor Wilson's phone," House said, holding the phone up to his ear.

Wilson reached for it and House sat further back in his seat, "Oh, hi, Greg. Is James around?" Y/N asked.

"Yes, he's right here," House said, holding out the phone to Wilson. Wilson shot him a glare before taking the phone and bringing it up to his ear.

"Hello," He said.

"Where are you? We have the embryo transfer today," Y/N said.

Wilson sighed, "I can't leave... I have appointments that I need to be here for," He said.

"Oh, are you sure you can't have someone cover? I really don't want to do this alone, James," Y/N said.

"I can't leave today," He stated.

"Okay, I-I'll try my mom then," Y/N said softly.

"I'm sorry," Wilson said, she didn't reply and hung up the phone.

"You're an ass," Wilson said, tossing his phone down on the table.

"You were avoiding your wife," House stated.

"So what if I was?" Wilson questioned.

"You can't avoid someone who needs you, it's your biological imperative to be at the beck and call of the needy," House said.

Wilson looked down at the table, "Unless something about why she needed you made you squeamish enough to resist," House muttered.

"Leave it alone, House," Wilson snapped, grabbing his cellphone and leaving the table.

....

Wilson made his way into the apartment, setting his bag by the door and tossing his keys into the dish. He shrugged off his coat and hung it up on the hook, moving further into the apartment.

Y/N was sitting on the couch watching television and didn't acknowledge him as he entered the room.

"How did the transfer go?" Wilson asked, he sighed when she didn't reply.

"Are you mad at me?" He questioned.

"I called Greg," Y/N stated.

"And?" Wilson asked.

"He said you didn't have any appointments this afternoon," Y/N said.

"Yes, I did," Wilson argued.

"Why would he lie, James?" She asked.

He scoffed, "Every second sentence out of House's mouth is a lie!" Wilson snapped.

"Look, I'm not trying to argue, but we need to talk about this. I feel like you've been pulling away from me and I don't understand what changed," Y/N said.

"Nothing," Wilson replied stubbornly, crossing his arms.

"We are equal partners in this relationship and you should be able to talk to me about however you're feeling. We used to tell each other everything and then you just blocked me out. I don't even know if you want to have a baby with me anymore... Lately you've been more like my doctor than my partner," Y/N said.

"I do! I do want a baby with you, but I can't have one. I can't give that to you and I feel like all I'm able to do is throw money at the problem!" Wilson yelled.

"James-," Y/N started.

"No, don't. I just- I know that I'm being unreasonable, but I can't get out of my head about it," He huffed.

Y/N stood up from the couch and made her way over to him, "Why didn't you say something sooner?" She asked.

"I don't know," He muttered.

Y/N slid her arms around him, resting her head on his chest as she hugged him tightly. Wilson wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on top of her head with a defeated sigh.

"We're in this together and you can always come to me, no matter what, okay?" Y/N said.

Wilson nodded, "I know... And I will, I promise," He said.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Agsfgs

He's a god of fertility, among other things

Imagine if Y/N prayed to Khonshu for their own fertility and just

Khonshu appears, offers them help with fertility, he gives them a few options. Just the regular magic method of helping or he physically helps them get pregnant... with his child, of course

Like, hot, but also can you imagine praying to a god, they show up and basically say "okay I can help you the normal way, or we can do this the fun way and make a baby together"

Obviously Y/N agreed to have a kid with him cuz like. C'mon. Look at him

He's of course a very attentive father and partner afterward. He's not blind to the struggle new life brings along with the joy

Okay, okay, I know this isn't exactly what you were picturing but--

Wings of A Prayer

Khonshu x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Infertility problems, mentions of miscarriages, self-doubt, depression, suicidal thoughts, sort of alcoholism, fluff, hinted at sexy times but nothing is pictured, Marc and the boys learn that there's more to the pissy old bird than meets the eye! (Naturally canon-fudging and merging with the comics again) And a major time skip! My personal headcanon that Khonshu looks like Oded Fehr rears its head once more!

A/N: Whew... this one is long! Surprisingly, no smut in this one. But I realized I am sorely lacking on Khonshu fluff since y'all are almost always just as horny for him as I am. I also did some research and... Wow. Some scary stuff. I'm sorry if this strikes a painful chord with some of you. I had to stop writing this a few times and take a break because it was making me tear up.

It had been... horrible, to say the least. Your life had been one giant trainwreck so far. Your heart had been wanting for something for so long, and... Well...

Your apartment was a gray, flat... hollow living space to you. It was lacking in... something. And that something was a giggly, chubby, cuddly little person. You thought about getting a pet, but... there was an itching inside of you. And itching for something--someone--of your own.

You had been living on your own since cutting off contact with your parents; and dating had been an absolutely dog shit experience since your teen years. But as you got older, and your friends all went their separate ways, living their own lives and starting their own families, you realized... You wanted that. To be the home you never really had growing up, a source of unconditional love and understanding.

You weren't stupid--you did your research beforehand, looked into every legal document you could. Instead of getting pregnant, you'd looked into fostering or adoption.

But you just... you couldn't afford it. The cost of adopting would have bankrupt you, and your increasing financial instability as the economy fluctuated was an obvious deterrent for most agencies. The same was for fostering--you simply worked too much to bre as present as they wanted you to be for a foster placement. And it didn't help that your particular neighborhood wasn't... stellar or "perfect" for a growing child.

The worst insult, perhaps, was when you looked into IVF after adoption and fostering were out of the question. It sounded like the best option, and so you went to your doctor. As uncomfortable and relatively invasive as the pelvic exam and tests were, your doctor assured you a pregnancy was easy enough to accomplish with the fertility treatments if you were able to get into a program.

Only... you hadn't. Your insurance wouldn't even cover half of the procedures, and your heart was sinking at the thought of going bankrupt and not being able to afford the child you so desperately wanted.

That was a low blow, but, you knew you still had options. You could get pregnant naturally. The real trick was finding a man who was willing, healthy, and responsible enough to agree to father your child.

As distasteful as sleeping with someone relatively strange to you was, you made the decision to be tactful. You made a profile on a dating website with the clear intentions that you wished to find a partner that was clean of any STIs, drug or alcohol addictions, and wouldn't cause problems for you if the impregnation was successful.

And of course, you assured that should they not wish it, you wouldn't put them on a birth certificate or come after them for child support. It would be difficult, surely, but you knew you could manage. There was always well-fare and WIC to help out with needs, as well as a few charities you could apply to. Your elderly neighbors even agreed to watch over your baby when it was born because they didn't have any grandchildren of their own; and the presence of a baby would brighten up their droll days when you needed the occasional break.

When you found a partner who was ready and willing to commit to your "requirements"--especially the STI tests with you present to be sure they were not lying--you both agreed to meet several times a week at his apartment to get down to business.

You planned your meetings carefully around your ovulatory and menstrual cycles, drank and ate anything that supposedly "boosted fertility"; and took every vitamin under the sun to help ensure it.

And then, you got the most wonderful news. You had been late on your period for nearly two months. Missing the first month wasn't a cause for alarm; after all, you had relatively irregular periods--which your doctor assured were because of stress and diet problems--and you weren't insistent upon a pregnancy test until you began to get sick during random times of the day or night and your body began to ache in places it hadn't before, such as your breasts.

You got your blood tested at your doctor's office and sure enough... you were pregnant! You reached out to the father when you got home, and after some arrangements, he agreed to send an unofficial check to you for the baby at the start of every month, but he wasn't sure if he could promise to be present for their childhood; which worked fine with you. It was more than you expected, anyways.

You immediately began to budget, alongside with the financial aid of the father of your baby, and began to prep your bedroom into a shared nursery for your impending arrival.

And as you were settling into your new routine and adjusted workload, you awoke during one night with intense vomiting. As you perched over your toilet bowl, pain began to radiate from your abdomen and deep into your body and pelvis, like sharp, pulsing, searing pain from inside of you.

It wasn't until you stood up to wash your face and brush your teeth that you realized you were bleeding. Your sleep shorts stained a disturbing shade of red. You immediately panicked; and simply ignoring the cost of an ambulance, you called 911, and phoned the father of your baby as dread began to soak into every pore.

It wasn't for several hours after all the tests and exams that the doctor from the ER finally came in with a sad, pitiful look on her face as she delivered the news.

You lost your baby.

It felt like the world opened up beneath you and you were swallowed by a void. You didn't even know you screamed until your vision went black around the edges; prompting you to take a much-needed breath. The father of your baby was sympathetic, he talked calmly to you, rubbing your back and speaking with the doctors for you while you struggled to cope.

They kept you for another day (after giving you some pill) to make sure you... passed the remains of the fetus so you didn't get sick from retained products of the conception.

You fell into a deep depression after that.

Weeks afterwards, you were a drone. You woke up, ate, worked, showered, slept, and performed the same duties again and again as if you were on autopilot. The father of your baby, Alain, checked in on you now and again, and at some point even introduced you to his new girlfriend (who was confused by the awkward situation at first, but in seeing what had gone wrong in your life, felt more pity towards you than anything).

Your elderly neighbors cried for you, made you food when you felt the absence of the want to cook or eat; and said they would offer up prayers for you.

You began to hide how... rotten you felt on the inside, after that. You feigned your old, "normal" behavior if not to just get everyone to stop treating you like some... Faberge egg that needed delicate handling. A doll so fragile from trauma and abuse you had to be put on a pedestal to avoid getting any more broken.

But deep inside you, that raw, twisted, pained feeling festered like a bad wound. It worsened when you discovered that your doctor had been horribly, profoundly wrong.

Your reproductive organs weren't in "perfect, healthy" shape. You had uterine scarring that appeared to line up with what was called Asherman's Syndrome. Your uterine cavity, as such, had a buildup of scar tissue and caused it to shrink, and the resulting damage is what likely triggered your miscarriage.

The doctor that had diagnosed your condition became suspicious, and called for an investigation into your primary doctor.

Turns out, he was responsible for many, many misdiagnoses on over a dozen patients. Many of which required some women to have hysterectomies done to save them; or have to be rushed into cancer treatments immediately. One had unfortunately lost her life due to a misdiagnosis and a fallopian torsion that wasn't treated in time. She left behind a husband and three little children who had to grow up without their mother.

The resulting lawsuits caused a media circus; and once again your life was thrown into disarray when you decided to be a part of it, having to recite the trauma of losing your poor, little baby to a bunch of strangers.

Your heart festered with rage. If you had known that your body was incapable of the one fucking thing it should have been able to do naturally, that you were one different decision away from the heartbreak you now suffered--you would never had tried to get pregnant. But like many of his patients, you took his word for it because he seemed so trustworthy. And if you couldn't trust the person your health was so reliant upon... who could you trust?

The doctor lost his license, and went to jail for the wrongful death, medical negligence and manslaughter of the woman he failed to properly diagnose and failed to treat.

The settlements were of little comfort to you all; those who suffered now-lifelong health problems, the family mourning a beloved wife and mother... and you, who mourned the life of the baby you never even got to feel kick, let alone name.

Your neighbors, Ebony and Malcolm Harris; Alain and his now-fiance, Amelia, had formed a bit of a cushion around you. Having an explanation for your misfortune, and then the financial boost from the punishment of the one responsible aided the pain somewhat... But it still hurt you so, so much.

Part of the settlement included paid-for counseling for those affected, and you took it. As dry and sour as it felt to yet again revisit the pain, you went through it.

But it still didn't help you when you looked at the toys, the unused clothes and set-up crib still sitting in your room, never to be used.

You spent a lot of time on the roof of your apartment building, contemplating... something. You wouldn't take the pills the doctor gave you. All they did was make you feel groggy and... numb. That felt worse than the guilt and grief, it didn't help.

You weren't sure anything would. You just wanted the pain to stop. You wanted to feel something, again.

You just wanted to be a mother.

"Oh, she's so... she's so..." Ebony sniffed, wiping at her eyes with her handkerchief. Malcolm sat next to her, rubbing her shoulders and sniffling himself. They loved you like their own child. They had none to speak of, since their son died overseas almost 20 years ago. You were the first person whom they felt a familial connection with--who didn't treat them as pitiful, childless old folks who were one bad day away from a nursing home.

"We're so scared for her," Malcolm whispered, pursing his lips. Just like his wife, he loved you like a daughter, too. And seeing you so consumed with pain and want hurt him badly. "She's hurting so badly."

"She wanted to be a mama so badly!" Ebony warbled, her wrinkled hands trembling as her husband held her. "That poor baby just wanted her own baby! She was so excited! Showed us everything, talked about it--I even started knitting a blanket!"

Malcom's own nearly-withered features twisted in sympathetic agony, "Please... is there something--anything--you can do for her? Help her, somehow? Like you helped us?"

The man sitting behind the desk kept his hands linked together as he peered over them at the couple. It was true. He had helped them.

When Ebony grew ill and eventually required dialysis, her body had been becoming increasingly weak and fragile; they were left without options. They tried prayers with pastors and in churches--but it didn't exactly do much with an absent god ignoring another desperate worshipper.

They were nearing the end of their rope when they heard through some whispers about him--the enigmatic "Dr. Moon".

They had only seen his face once, and that was after Ebony was miraculously cured following his strange "treatments", her kidneys back to functioning better than they had in her early 30s. After that, they attended private prayer sessions with him, the second high priest, after Marc Spector, whom he had only really interacted with a handful of times... And did not like how often he went against their god, Khonshu's word.

Begrudgingly, "Dr. Moon", later known to be one Yehya Badr, had started what would be known as the "Midnight Mission" with Spector. In his constant absence, the two agreed that it would work better if Yehya saw to the Mission while Marc traveled to hunt the cult of Ammit, and Khonshu's former high priest, Arthur Harrow.

And, while watching over the Mission and the innocent people... Yehya used his healing abilities and decided to open a free clinic from within the holy place. Many were hesitant to accept treatment from a religious institution, but soon patients and potential followers alike began to trickle in from the streets. People like Ebony and Malcolm.

Yehya felt for the couple and the story they now told him, his brow creasing beneath his white mask, mouth twisting into a pained frown. You sounded on the brink--ready to take one last hurdle into the beyond for the sake of the child you never got to hold.

"Healing something like that..." Yehya sighed sadly, standing up from his chair. The wheels squeaked softly as he pushed it back, and walked to the window that overlooked the street below. "...it won't be easy. I may not be able to do it alone, like when I treated you, Ebony."

"Can't you--can't you call on Him, again? Like you did before?" Malcolm pleaded earnestly. The love these two elders had for you touched him, made his own heart squeeze in his chest.

"Please... if--if His power can come from love, just--just take ours and give it all to her... please!" Ebony sniffled, burying her face in her hands.

Yehya swallowed the lump in his throat and slowly pulled his mask away from his face, walking over to take their hands in each of his. He could feel their heartache through their frail and gentle grip.

"I will see what I can do. Your faith--and love--might help this young woman you two adore so much. But I cannot predict how Khonshu will help her, should he choose to directly get involved."

Another repetitive day. You managed to force yourself to eat some takeout you had leftover from last night and microwaved that for dinner, eating alone in front of your TV as it droned on with some boring reality show you weren't really paying attention to anymore.

For the eighth time that week you contemplated packing away and donating all the baby items in your apartment. But every time you touched them you just broke down into a sobbing fit; your heart rending itself from the reality of what had gone wrong with you.

You couldn't even bring yourself to go into your bedroom, anymore. Everything was in there.

So, you'd taken to sleeping on your couch for the past few months. You only went into your room long enough to get things you needed, clothes and the like (the former just sitting in clothes hampers unfolded after laundry days) before fleeing in the bland space that was your meager living room.

After you finished eating, you sipped at the hard lemonade in your hand. Drinking to cope was bad, but something inside of you kept you from relying on it too heavily. And you never drank to get drunk; only enough to fuzz your senses enough to let you sleep on some nights.

And tonight was one of those nights.

You were on your fourth lemonade when the lights began to flicker in your apartment; your TV freezing frames when it began. Maybe your landlord was fiddling with the power to the building again? Had a fuse blown to the building? Whatever...

"I don't need this right now..." You grunted, taking a deep swig; one mouthful closer to the bottom of the bottle.

"Wasteful." A disembodied voice rumbled, making a chill creep up your spine.

"I... What--" Your head whipped around as you tried to figure out where it had come from--your TV was still frozen, so it couldn't have been that--you were still relatively sober so it couldn't have possibly been drunken hallucinations.

Suddenly, you jumped and yelled in surprise when the bottle went flying from your hand and smashed to bits on the wall, the drink within running down the drywall in rivulets from the impact.

"What the f--"

"My priest told me of you," The voice hummed. It felt as if something unseen was circling you like a predator does with its prey. "And of the pain you have endured, little one. There are those close to you who pleaded for my aid to help you, to heal you."

You felt the presence stop behind you, crowding you in and making your blood still within you; but you just couldn't bring yourself to turn around. The lights flickered weakly once more before going dead, as did your TV, swallowing you in darkness.

As your eyes adjusted to the inky darkness, this voice's words sunk in. "Heal you". "Help you".

"Who are you?" You swallowed.

"I am the god, Khonshu. I protect the innocent, I bring justice. I heal those that ask for it."

Yeah, no. You must have slipped and hit your head. You remembered Ebony and Malcolm saying they'd pray for you--but this was... this was impossible! But... some aching, gnawing, painful part of your heart begged for you to hear the voice out.

"How could you..." You cleared your throat, trying not to sound as scared as you felt. "How could you help me?"

"That remains to be seen." The voice replied with a thoughtful tone. "How do you wish for me to help you? I was told but precious little of your story--only from those around you. Not from you. What is it you wish my aid for?"

Your eyes slowly move to where you instinctively knew your bedroom door was. Even in the dark, you could feel the depressing aura clinging to the space call out to you like a siren in the black sea. The voice seemed to be able to "see" what you were looking at, as well.

Somehow--this Khonshu knew immediately what you were too scared to voice.

"I see." He told you, his voice growing soft and somber, if a touch sympathetic. His presence leaned away from you.

"You wish for me to heal the damage done inside of you?" He mused gently, "To enable you the ability to bear a child? It is easily enough done; but I sense something else bothering you."

Your hands knotted in the hem of your shirt; your stomach twisting itself into a nasty ball of writhing, anxious snakes.

"I... I can't go through it all, again." You croaked, your voice coming out hoarse. "The stress of finding... I just... I can't. It just... I don't want to--to risk it happening all over again, even if..."

"I see..." He murmurs again, giving you your space to breathe, "Then there may be another option--a guaranteed method--to ensure a healthy pregnancy and a healthy child..."

The way your heart hopefully leapt within your ribcage almost hurt--your stomach dropping into a pit. Sure, you may be going crazy and this could be a hallucination... But would it be so bad to give in, to live in some fantasy to alleviate the pain and grief you've been suffering with for nearly over a year?

"So you... you're... offering to... what, be the father of my baby?" You whispered.

A feather-light touch brushed your arm, the feeling warm and gentle on your skin, "Only if you wish it. I can help you, but only if you want me to. I can heal you, but only if it was what you truly want. When a child is produced, I will ensure there will be no struggles for you and the babe."

"You... promise? That it'll work?"

"I swear it."

You swallowed. Thinking hard.

But some part of you had already made a decision--and that part of you spoke: "Okay."

"Very well, then..." Khonshu murmured.

In the span of a breath, you felt large, warm arms wrap around your waist, tugging you close. And then, the next thing you knew... you were laying on your back, in your bed, with him hovering above your in the dark.

Even with the dim lights in the streets below barely filtering in through your blackout curtains, you couldn't clearly make out his appearance. The shadows that were being cast merely gave you an image that couldn't possibly have been true.

"Can I see you?" You whispered, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Only if you wish it." He reminded you softly, his hand caressing your hip, beginning a slow, sweet trek up beneath your shirt.

"I do."

The dim light of the candle at your bedside table flickered to life--the sweet scent of lavender and vanilla filling your senses.

You finally got to see him. And you weren't afraid.

Marc felt uneasy as soon as they got off the plane, and Layla soothed him with a touch as she linked her fingers with his. He didn't like being here--the city was teeming with cruelty and injustice... and he knew Khonshu wouldn't let him rest long. Him, Steven, or Jake.

"Marc, just breathe." Layla said to him as she adjusted the strap of her travel bag with one hand, her other squeezing his. "It'll be fine. If Khonshu has a problem with you taking it easy--"

Layla scoffed, blowing a puff of air from out of her cheeks as they walked out of the terminal, Marc hauling their suitcases behind him, their wheels squeaking sadly beneath the weight. Some of their less... legal belongings were being smuggled in and would be delivered to their destination later in the night.

"Well, the old bastard can deal with it. I'm here, and I'll pick up the slack if I gotta." She assured him.

Marc's shoulders sag; he can feel Jake plucking at the edges of his mind, giving him gentle reassurances and his oath that if anything happened; he would be the one to bear the brunt of Khonshu's work in his stead. Even Steven spoke up to voice his assurances that all would be well--after all, they had Layla with them!

"Yeah," He sighed, smiling at her and bringing her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles, "You're right. It's also just..."

"Just..?" She led on, quirking a brow at him.

"The last time Badr and I spoke, it kinda ended in a fist fight." He smiled warily.

"Oh, gods, of course it did..." She snorted.

"I mean, I shattered his nose and he broke one of my knees, so... Yeah. Bad." Marc grinned, earning an elbow to the ribs from his lovely wife.

"Can it, Spector. Don't make me worry about you even more!" She laughed with him.

"Ouch!" A man holding a dry erase board laughed; the writing on his sign clearly stating "SPECTOR" in bold black letters on it. He stood in front of a pristine white car. It was Marc's. Or, well... apparently it was Jake's... A purchase he'd made without Marc's knowledge at some point... like the limo back in London.

Jake would apparently make spare cash when he would take over while Marc slept and Steven lay buried. All without their knowledge, of course...

"Hitting you with the Spectorrrr, is she?" Jean-Paul grinned, his thin, pointed mustache quirking like a fidgety caterpillar. "So cruel!"

"Well, he deserves it." Layla grinned, leaning in to hug him, "Frenchy! So good to see you! How've you been? How's Rob?"

"Happy as a clam in some nice clean water! And my physical therapy has almost concluded." Jean-Paul smiled, kissing each of Layla's cheeks in an affectionate greeting when she asked about his lover.

He lifted his eyes to spot Marc, bringing him in with a closed fist to give a shoulder-hug, "I'm glad you've gotten yourself sorted, Marc. Rob and I were worried about you!"

"As sorted as a guy with two other guys living inside his head that's in service to a pissy god can be, anyways..."

"Ahhh... Right. Right." Jean-Paul said, clicking his teeth as he popped the trunk to the car so Layla and Marc could load their things up. He opened up the back door for them to climb into the backseat."

"Hey, I can always drive us, Duchamp." Marc smirked at him, the corners of his eyes creasing in humor, "After all... it is technically my car."

"No, no--" Jean-Paul grinned, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Let me do it, c'mon. It gives me something to do, today!"

Layla nudged Marc with a giggle and he relented, climbing in behind her.

Marc sighed as Jean-Paul helped them unload their bags, his eyes following Marc and Layla's to the building in front of them; the doors decorated with carved crescent moons in the frosted glass.

He had been to the Midnight Mission only a handful of times--and every one of those times was to assist Marc as his pilot during intense missions for Khonshu. And he of course met Yehya Badr, the two men had a respectful relationship. He himself had conducted a few healing rituals to help with the phantom pains Jean-Paul occasionally felt in his legs.

But he knew that Badr and Marc didn't always get along; Yehya being a die-hard and devout follower of Khonshu and Marc being a bit of a renegade who tended to go against his word and do things his own way. And he knew it had been a few years since the two parted on... well--rather bad terms.

"Well, better get the torture and inevitable lecture over with..." Marc grunted, shouldering one of the duffels. Layla helps gather the rest, letting Jean-Paul close the door and trunk.

As they crossed the threshold, Jean-Paul winced, "Oh, right! There's something you should know about, by the way..."

Marc looked at him over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Well, Yehya isn't the only one who lives in the Mission anymore." Jean-Paul grinned as their floors squeaked on the waxed marble floors.

"Okay, and...?"

He rubbed his mustache with his index finger, smiling a little bashfully as he looked away. "Well, er... it's kinda... Uh, awkward... Well, I mean, that is--"

"Spit it out, Frenchy." Layla smiled, rolling her eyes.

A door could be heard swinging open from somewhere down the hall as they leave the foyer, and Jean-Paul laughed, grinning from ear to ear as a small, rambunctious human suddenly appeared, colliding with Marc's legs and wrapping her arms around his legs and giggling.

"Daddy!" She giggled excitedly, rubbing her face on his jeans.

Marc on the other hand, began to immediately panic--his eyes going wide as he looked to Layla, whom in turn looked at Marc with her eyebrows risen the highest on her brow Marc has ever seen--awaiting an explanation.

Marc began to sweat, "Baby, I swear to God I didn't--"

The child looked up at him, and frowned. Her little brows creased and she pouted, her bottom lip poking out as she studied Marc. "...Oh." She said dejectedly, sighing deeply. "You're not my Daddy."

Marc's heart felt like it was gonna explode--Jake and Steven had come to co-front to see what all the fuss and anxiety was about. Steven immediately began to go on about how darling the girl was, her shiny and clear her eyes were--how smart and at the same time seemingly ancient they looked. Like polished obsidian stones, a dazzling array of lights shimmering from somewhere deep within.

Jean-Paul laughed and clapped his hands, his face turning red from the force of his laughter. The child brightened up and rushed towards him, allowing him to scooped her up and swing her in a circle, "Hello, petit gâteau!" He crooned, kissing the girl's cheeks.

"Uncle Frenchy!" She giggled as he swung her around one last time before setting her down.

"Yes, yes, it's been a while! A whole week!" He grinned down at her, letting her hang off of his hand. She swung from it for a moment, studying Marc and Layla curiously, the fabric of her dress flowing almost like water as she did so.

"This is--well, I guess this could technically be your... er..." Jean-Paul smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Your big brother Marc? And Layla, his wife."

Marc and Layla's jaws dropped, their confusion and curiosity only growing more and more.

(Oh, this'll be good...) Jake snickered, rubbing his chin. Through their reflections in a nearby portrait, Marc could see Steven elbow him.

'Ay, lay off! We can be curious without bein' rude about it, yeah?' The Brit huffed.

Jean-Paul was about to explain, but...

"Savah!" You sighed in relief, running out to see them. You knew Jean-Paul, from his healing sessions with Yehya and how he loved to babysit your daughter. He was apparently a trusted friend and ally of "Moon Knight's" so you knew he was harmless.

"I... agh. I'm so sorry if she jumped you..." You smiled apologetically at them as you scooped her up, bouncing the tot on your hip as she giggled into her hands. "We were playing hide and seek--and she must have slipped out when I wasn't paying attention!"

Steven couldn't help but squee at how adorable the girl was, Jake had to concede that, yes... she was stinkin' adorable. Even Marc was having a hard time arguing the point, and he was very, very awkward with kids.

"Savah, it's one thing to go up and hug your Uncle Frenchy, but it's another to go up to strangers you don't know." You say, gently scolding her. Her little grin falters, and she frowns cutely.

"I felt it... I thought it was Daddy..." She mumbled, plucking at one of the buttons in your blouse.

"Felt" it?" You asked, raising an eyebrow and looking back at Marc and Layla.

"Right! That brings us to the introductions, eh?" Jean-Paul spoke up, rubbing his hands together. "This is Layla el Faouly--er, well, actually Spector now, ain't it?--and Marc Spector, her husband. He's the Moon Knight."

Marc jumped, his eyes going wide at how casually Jean-Paul had introduced him with his mystical alter-ego, barely even registering it when he introduced you by name; "And this lovely little bon bon, is Savah, her daughter."

"Ohhhh..." You said, your posture relaxing, "That's why she got her "funny" feeling! Sorry, she thought you were her dad."

"I, uh... No harm no foul, but..." Marc laughed nervously, smoothing his hair back, "I could've lived without the heart attack of me possibly blacking out and oops'ing a baby with somebody at some point in time..."

Layla actually laughed, "Oh, please... like you have game with anyone but me, Marc."

He looked at Layla and deadpanned; "Yeah, well, you'd be surprised at how many people swoon for Jake's "Spanish charm"."

You blinked, looking at Jean-Paul for an explanation, and he gestured to continue down the hall, "Ah... let's go and... get some tea, hm? Explain a little bit."

"Right, right, I've never actually met this one." You reply, nodding.

"Mhmm, and he definitely doesn't know about you."

Basic introductions happened over warm cups of tea in one of the furnished rooms off the foyer. Badr had shaken hands with Marc, surprisingly polite and almost friendly before he briefly turned his attention to little Savah, helping fix her doll she had accidentally popped the leg off of when she got too rough, and ruffled her hair before leaving once more.

However... Jean-Paul had yet to fully introduce the two of you to the couple. He mostly let Marc and Layla explain who they were, and what they had been doing. Since obviously, you were so trusted as to even know about Yehya's identity as Hunter's Moon; they trusted to tell you about hunting Ammit, and ultimately defeating her.

It was less than an half an hour after that, that Savah suddenly perked up again, hopping up and down into place, her eyes sparkling even brighter. The glimmering lights in her dark depths caught Marc's attention, stopping him dead in the middle of his sentence, "Uh..."

"Oh... look's like he's home after all... wonder what he was waiting for?" You muse, smiling at your daughter happily, watching her as she ran to the door when it began to open.

A man with tanned skin, graying black hair, and a short beard walked in; his white suit crisp and immaculate. His hazel eyes were stern, his chiseled features only softening as Savah rushed up to him, holding her arms up expectantly until he picked her up and cradled her body gently against his, kissing her forehead gently.

"Daddy!" She squealed, giggling as she tried to wrap her tiny arms around him. It was now pointedly obvious this man was indeed to be her father--especially because of how many of his facial aspects she had. She had your skin tone and hair color, but certainly had his looks...

You rose from your cushioned seat and walked over to them, brushing your nose affectionately against his with a smile as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

"See? See?" Savah said excitedly, grinning like mad. "I told you I felt Daddy! I always do!"

"Yeah, you do, munchkin. Yeah, you do." You snorted, shaking your head.

Jean-Paul cleared his throat and awkwardly stepped around the three of you; "Well... I guess I don't have to do the rest of the introductions after all... I'll see you two later!"

"Bye bye!" Savah called out to him as the door shut with a faint click behind him.

Savah's father looked at Marc with a rather bored expression, almost... annoyed, really. Gave Layla the same look, as well. Marc rolled his shoulder stiffly, suddenly very uncomfortable under his unflinching gaze.

"It took the both of you long enough to get here." He said in almost a sneer; his voice unmistakably, painfully familiar.

Layla and Marc shot to their feet, almost falling over themselves as the realization dawned on them. Jake and Steven were in an uproar within Marc's mind.

"Khonshu?!" They both cried.

His brow quirked upward in an unimpressed gesture, "Gah. How can you two be so perceptive when hunting artifacts and evildoers, but cannot pick up on this? I am disappointed in you, Marc. You should have figured it out, first."

"Th-that's why her... her eyes--?!" He sputtered.

Finally, the corner of Khonshu's mouth tilts upwards in a cocky smirk; his eyes flashed an almost blinding white. And when Savah looked at the both of them, they could see the lights in her eyes swirl and shine even brighter and in tune with Khonshu's, shifting and dancing until they briefly solidified in an unmistakable crescent-shape before parting in a fractured dance, again.

"Yes, this is my daughter." He stated proudly, his arm tightening around you a fraction, "And my wife."

"Wife, huh? When did that happen?" You snorted, giving him a snarky look.

"I assumed it happened sometime after Savah was born." He hummed, his snark matching your own, "After all, you live under my roof, mother my child, sleep in our bed..."

You rolled your eyes and elbowed him, "Smartass."

You looked at the couple across the room and smiled awkwardly, "I never did get to explain much... But, since that's outta the way... mind explaining to me why there's such a weird vibe in the room, right now?"

Marc and Layla merely blinked at you, before once again exclaiming in unison:

"You had Khonshu's god-baby?!"

[youremyheaven]

The Internal Corrosiveness of Venus: Venusian Women & Self Harm

TW: self harm, abuse, suicide, violence, trauma

Claire had remarked that "Venus is internally corrosive whilst externally pleasant and Mars is externally corrosive but internally pleasant". This led me down a rabbit hole to try to understand whether this "internally corrosive" nature manifests as self harm & eating disorders and unfortunately, it does. Venusian women struggle with perfectionism and are extremely self-critical. Venusian energy is HARSH. Venus natives struggle to uphold a certain standard that they subject themselves too because if I'm being honest Venus is the OG "not like other girls girl", they believe they're better than others, and tbh in many ways they probably are but this also means they put undue pressure on themselves to keep being that way.

All Venusian naks are Ugra or "fierce" in nature and while I've talked about how Venusian violence and cruelty can be directed at others in my other posts, I think its worth mentioning how Venusians can be just as cruel to themselves. This is especially true of Venusian women as women internalise their problems while men wreak external havoc (like causing wards and killing people) but there are many male Venusians who struggle internally as well.

In ancient religions, Goddesses of love also had other functions or powers that had nothing to do with love

the Egyptian Goddess Isis was the goddess of love, healing, fertility, magic, and the moon. She was the goddess of life and magic, Isis protected women and children and healed the sick.

She was a great magician, whose power transcended that of all other deities.

The Mesopotamian Goddess Ishtar is the goddess of love and sexuality, and thus, fertility; she is responsible for all life, but she is never a Mother goddess. She is also the Goddess of War.

I'm using these examples to show that the ancients had a more complex and nuanced understanding of Venusian energy. One cannot worship love without understanding that "war" is a consequence of it. Love & war are not very different from each other. When someone believes in something and is willing to die for it, we find that to be very honourable. Sometimes this belief leads men to kill others over it and depending on the cause, we describe the war as "good" or "bad" (kill a bunch of fascists and then its a "righteous" war, if you kill innocent people, then its an unholy war etc). Being at a state of war describes Venusian nature very well since Venus is also connected to royalty and if you're born into royalty, you get to live a very "exclusive" very privileged life that few get to enjoy but the stakes are also that much higher since you could be beheaded or executed or exiled and live a life that is far worse than the average person.

In this post I want to explore how this "state of war" can manifest internally in an ordinary Venusian and contribute to self harm, eating disorders and drug abuse.

Bella Hadid- Purvaphalguni Moon & Rising

Bella has admitted to smoking since she was a teenager and getting a rhinoplasty at 14. Her pro ana Tumblr from when she was a teen is infamous at this point. She has never openly spoken about it but it is widely speculated that she struggles with an eating disorder and possible drug abuse as well.

“I was the uglier sister. I was the brunette. I wasn't as cool as Gigi, not as outgoing,” she said. “That's really what people said about me.” I also feel like Venusians grow up feeling really ugly and completely unaware of their magnetism. They only really grow into their looks when they're older (obvs there are exceptions) and I think being bullied for what they have and don't have are also big themes.

Demi Lovato- Bharani Moon

Demi has spoken about struggling with self harm, eating disorders and drug abuse.

Lovato said, “growing up, I had been bullied in school,” saying she “felt like an outsider," and "like an outcast,” but then she became friends with a girl who was popular. “One day, I asked her ‘how do you have all these friends?,’” Lovato noted, and the girl asked Lovato “do you party?" Lovato explained, "She asked me, 'Do you drink?,'" with Lovato saying that this was her first experience with drugs and alcohol, adding, “we experienced a lot of stuff together, drinking and using, and growing up.” Bharani being an outcaste nakshatra resulted in Demi feeling like one growing one :(((

Taylor Swift- Purvashada Rising

Taylor opened up about her eating disorder in her documentary

Lindsay Lohan- Bharani Moon

LiLo has struggled with self harm, drug abuse and battled eating disorders

Oscar Wilde, Purvaphalguni Rising wrote The Picture of Dorian Gray

The plot goes like this : An attractive Englishman's image is captured in a painting that keeps him from ageing, when he exchanges his soul for eternal beauty. But for every sin that he commits, his image in the portrait rots.

This is a very deeply Venusian story, and very specifically Purvaphalguni esque because Purvaphalguni is the height of Venus. It can be said that its also true of Venusians in general. They are outwardly splendorous, they seem to have it all together but inwardly they tend to be inflicting wounds upon themselves in order to keep it all together.

Johnny Depp- Purvashadha Moon

He has also battled eating disorders, self harm and drug abuse.

Iggy Pop- Bharani Moon

"THERE IS EXTREME, there is legendary — and then there is Iggy Pop. Beginning in his earliest days with the Stooges taunting Ann Arbor frat boys and small town Michigan folk, Iggy made an art of excess: self-mutilation, self-exposure and self-destruction. His risky theatricality required an audience to respond, participate or get the heck out of there. And the sex and violence hardly stopped after the show was over."- this is how Rolling Stone described Iggy Pop and tbh this is a very Venusian description

In 1974, at his first solo concert dubbed The Murder of a Virgin. "Do you want to see blood?" Iggy asked the crowd, which howled affirmatively back at him. Then, at Iggy's urging, guitarist Ron Asheton, wearing a Nazi outfit, whipped Iggy repeatedly. Iggy began hurling racial epithets at a black spectator, hoping to goad the man into stabbing him with the steak knife he'd brought onstage. No luck, so he closed the set by carving an X into his chest himself.

Marilyn Manson- Purvashadha Sun

He has struggled with self harm in the past (there are images online if you're interested) and in 2013, he tried to simulate self harm on stage by holding a knife to his wrist in the middle of a performance??

Christina Ricci- Purvashadha Moon

Ricci has said she suffered from anorexia as a teenager and was sexually assaulted as a child. “There was no discussion at that time about trauma, and about recovering from those things, about PTSD,” she said. As a result, she ended up “acting out and coping in ways that weren't good."

Robert Downey Jr- Bharani Moon, Mars in Purvaphalguni

its pretty well known that RDJ was severely addicted to drugs at one point and it started when he was a child and drugs was given to him by his dad:///

Megan Fox- Purvashadha Rising

"I have body dysmorphia — I don't ever see myself the way other people see me," Fox said. "There's never a point in my life where I loved my body, never, ever." "When I was little, that was an obsession I had of, like, but I should look this way,"

‘However, at a certain point, I went through some trauma in childhood and I developed a pretty severe eating disorder and manic depression, which runs in my family, so there was definitely some wrestling with chemical imbalance going on,’ she shared.

its interesting how so many of these natives begin struggling with these issues very early in life

Colin Farrell- Purvashadha Rising, Jupiter conjunct Ketu in Bharani

While he did not say that he had cut himself when he was younger, Colin Farrell had some self-inflicting behavior during his younger days. He spoke on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno and said that he used to actually enjoy pulling out huge tufts of his hair. 

Pete Davidson- Purvaashadha Rising

'I used to bang my head against walls,' he admitted. 'If I couldn't deal with something -- if someone told me something sad or something I couldn't deal with I would bang my head against the wall, hoping I'd pass out because I didn't want to be in that situation because I couldn't handle that.

Melanie Lynskey- Bharani Moon

“I stopped throwing up, mostly. It took a while. But that was a big one. I had, for a very long time, been on this diet that was basically 800 calories a day, and if I ate anything over 800 calories, I would throw up,” she said. “I was never bingey. Sometimes I’d be starving, and I’d have another teacup of Special K. Then I’d be like, ‘Well, now I gotta throw it up.’”

Tila Tequila- Purvaphalguni Moon

On March 7, 2012, it was reported that Tequila had agreed to check into rehab after having reportedly "almost died" from an attempted suicide by overdosing on pills. The incident caused her to be hospitalized for a brain aneurysm. Tequila completed her rehab treatment on April 5, 2012.

Jeffree Star- Purvashadha Moon

images of him self harming once went viral

Till Lindemann- Purvashadha Sun

he's known for his SH scars and has even written poems about it in German??? its called "The poems: Knives on silent nights"

Portia de Rossi- Rahu in Purvashadha 2h

she's struggled with an eating disorder

Padma Lakshmi- Purvaphalguni Sun & Moon

"When filming "Top Chef," I consume about 5,000 to 8,000 calories a day,'' she wrote. "I typically gain anywhere from 10 to 17 pounds every season. Once I get home, what's taken me six weeks to gain takes me 12 weeks to take off. It's always a nail-biting extravaganza at fittings, praying that a few pretty dresses that came down the runway on a teenage model who is a size 0 will miraculously fit my 40-something body,'' she wrote. "Getting ready for the Emmys is always fun, and it's truly an honor to be nominated. But at the same time, in spite of my high metabolism, I worry each year that I'm not going to fit into anything nice. So, this year, I've decided my weight will not be my focus,'' she wrote. "If I need a bigger dress, so be it. That one day — or any day — on the red carpet isn't nearly as important as making sure my daughter doesn't measure her worth by her dress size."

i guess this is a more positive manifestation of Venusian self image struggles

Jessica Alba- Bharani Stellium (Sun, Mercury & Venus)

“I was meant to feel ashamed if I tempted men,” she said. “Then I stopped eating a lot when I became an actress. I made myself look more like a boy so I wouldn’t get as much attention.”

Katie Couric- Purvashadha Sun

“I wrestled with bulimia all through college and for two years after that,” she shared with Lovato while interviewing her, per Glamour. “I know this rigidity, this feeling that if you eat one thing that’s wrong, you’re full of self-loathing and then you punish yourself, whether it’s one cookie or a stick of gum that isn’t sugarless, that I would sometimes beat myself up for that. How do you have a healthy relationship with food, and say, ‘You know what, I can have one cookie and it’s OK?’ That is such a huge thing for people who wrestle with this.”

Zayn Mailk- Purvaphalguni Moon

 In his 2016 autobiography, Zayn, he shared it would sometimes cause him to go two or three days without eating a single bite of food. “Something I’ve never talked about in public before, but which I have come to terms with since leaving the band, is that I was suffering from an eating disorder. It got quite serious, although at the time I didn’t recognize it for what it was,” he wrote. “When I look back at images of myself—before the final tour—I can see how ill I was. The workload and the pace of life on the road put together with the pressures and strains of everything going on within the band had badly affected my eating habits. Food was something I could control, so I did.”

Zoe Kravitz- Purvaphalguni Moon conjunct Ketu

“I think it was part of being a woman, and being surrounded by [fame],” she said. “I think it was definitely about being around that world, seeing that world. I felt pressured.” After playing an anorexic character in a movie, she hit her lowest of lows and was so malnourished that her immune system shut down. Months later, she decided to make a change. “I just felt it was different,” she said. “I don’t know… if a f—king spirit came over me and said: ‘You have to stop.’”

Mel C, Purvaphalguni Rising

"When I was in the Spice Girls, the stress of suddenly being thrust into the limelight led me into an unhealthy relationship with food and exercise,” she told The Mirror in 2012. “I became obsessed about what I ate and I cut lots of food groups, like carbs and protein, out of my diet. I survived on fruit and vegetables and little else.”

Nicole Scherzinger- Mars conjunct Rising in Purvaphalguni

"I really struggled with feeling like I fit in. I even had a hard time feeling like I fit into my own skin. I was really hard on myself and had a lot of struggles with self-esteem and a lot of insecurities,” she said. “Later on, that resulted in me having eating disorders because of my body dysmorphia.”

if you're reading this and struggling, you're not alone. please get help!! its not too late to turn things around!! youre so strong and you can do this!!

[hanafubukki]

CW & TW: Blood, some gore, mentions of miscarriages I'm wondering... Since Lilia's 700 years old (which is pretty old in Fae years and for his supposed species), would he have complications getting someone pregnant? Also, I've been thinking about Y/N having complications getting pregnant due to easily becoming stressed and because of some medical conditions that had been inherited in Y/N's family. How do you think he would feel about that? But despite those things being against them, Y/N happens to become pregnant. HOWEVER, they would have to have a healer or a medic from STYX and from Briar Valley collaborating together, watching the pregnancy almost 24/7 just in case the creation is miscarried. But as luck would have it, before the creation is miscarried, the magic that is used to save the child ends up working. Because of this, the child ends up being a miracle child. Y/N is shocked to see that this has happened since their dream of becoming a parent had been dashed a long time ago; those times were filled with despair and agony, their body having rejected many a creation before this one. Yet through the technological advancements of medicine and fertility magic combined had brought about something that nobody could predict: a half-Fae, half-human child who was born healthy and without much complication. You don't have to reply if you don't want to since these themes can be hard to talk about, but if you do, then I think you'll be great at it! Besides, there's (in my opinion) nothing stopping them from being accepted regardless by the Diasomnia fam!

Hello Faye 💞🌷💚

If we follow some general fae lore 🤔 it’s harder for faes to get pregnant and, depending on the species, it’s rare to have children? Though, none of this is ever mentioned or implied in twst lore.

In some fae lore, that’s why having children with humans are easier because humans are more fertile. 👀 This is also not mentioned in twst lore but given that the only half fae and half human we know of right now is Sebek who has older siblings…it might be true?

But there isn’t anyone to compare to as of right now nor do we know enough about BV culture and fae lore. Absjsjshs I know I went off topic, but I was very curious lol.

I don’t think Lilia would have ever considered having children before meeting you. He’s already has Malleus and Silver. He helped train Sebek.

For him to want kids? Especially with you? I feel it would be something he would gradually want. a little piece of you and him. I think he would feel sad if he couldn’t have them with you but even more so, he feels for you. That he couldn’t give them to you. Whether it be a you or he health problem or combo.

Either way, you’ll always be loved and welcomed in Diasomnia family lives. You being you is what they have always adored. Not being able to have kids has anything to do with that at all.

If you do get pregnant despite all the odds, I won’t put it past Lilia to be by your side or one of the boys being near you always. Especially since it’s a high risk pregnancy.

I think with the combination of STYX, fae knowledge, and the history of Mrs. Zigvolt; was any of this possible.

This is your baby. Your miracle baby. Yours and Lilia’s.

Through the support of friends and family, your baby was born. Your precious baby.

The one love beyond any measure even before their birth. 💞🥹

[the-smallest-star]

How did Clem cause to have pregnancy problems?

"..... what part of mind your business don't you get? Besides I don't want it."

[blingblong55]

Funny feeling - König

Not a request but my own need for this:

141&Konig find out (same time as you do) that you have PCOS. You of course are sad because of the fertility issues and all the problems this condition brings, but not to worry, your partner is here to help and uplift you.  ---- F!Reader, reader with pcos, fluff, angst, comfort, established!realtionship, tw: self worth issues ----

A/N: I needed comfort and well I figured you might too so.. here's this

141 part here

When you step inside, the shadow of worry descends upon your home. Your spirit dimmed, and ever since the truth emerged and you withered, your mind came crashing down like a bird in flight. This diagnosis shook not just you but of course him. You now drown in a sea of despair and self-blame. It's a heavy burden to bear, one that threatens tears to roll down and make you walk away from König. You blame yourself as flawed, broken, unworthy of the love he gives you and you so cherish.

But König, ever the steadfast husband, refuses to lose you this way. He mustn't let you slip away. Not ever, Schatz.

One day, as he finally watches you open up, he sits down and listens. He clings to every word you say. You pour your heart out and all of your fears and insecurities. "What if you leave? What if this is the beginning of the end of us? I don't want to lose you Bär," your voice shaky. With gentle understanding, he wiped away your tears, promising to stand by your side through every trial and triumph. "Oh, meine Schatz," he says as he holds you close.

Now, he sought to educate himself about the condition, attend appointments with you, read up on diets that can help you and is now determined to be your unwavering support.

It's not just words where he shows you his undying love. No, that is basic and for the woman that owns his heart, actions must be shown to prove that he means it. He cooks your favourite meals, filling the shared home with the aroma of comfort and care.

He takes your hands one day and leads you through the meadows, reminding you of the beauty that exists in the world outside the window. And in the quiet moments, he simply holds you, his presence so warm.

"Life is not always fair, I know that and I also know that you don't believe that I mean it, that this won't change and…you're lying to yourself. I do mean it and this might change our lives a little but not for the worse. I love you, sweet girl, and I'll be here like you were for me," he kisses your forehead and keeps holding you close.

In the quaint Austrian countryside, where the hills whispered tales of old, lived König and you. Life is nothing but beautiful, especially now that he is retired. With changes and lots of cuddles, you slowly become used to this new part of yourself.

A/N: I think this part was shit...sorry..

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[calcitedraws]

Since Fen really wants kids, how do you think they'd cope with a darling who absolutely does NOT want children? Would they accept that or do you think they would try to push their darling to eventually give in and have kids with them?

I think it'd take a good long talk for Fen to accept it. They don't want to 'pressure you into a life you don't want' (ironic, huh?) by forcing you to have kids. However, Fen won't quite 'get' some reasons. Personally I don't want kids due to a variety of factors (breaking the generational curse lets goooo)

TW for sabatouging birth control plus normal yandere nonsense. Tagging as SA because that's SA. Let me know if I have to add other tw tags!

You don't want kids because you're worried about being a bad parent? Fen is immediately telling you that you couldn't possibly do that! You both will love your kids and together you'll do a great job! Basically they'll talk you down from that idea (even if you're insistent on it)

You don't want kids because you're worried about financial stability and the state of the world? Nonsense, Fens job has a cushy salary and they don't mind driving your children down to the nearest public school (around an hour away). Sorry, you're a stay at home parent! And they'll make sure their kids can finance their way through college so that they'll be financial stable too!

Fen sees an intense fear of pregnancy as something to be worked through, not a roadblock. It's not that your fear isn't taken seriously, but... They view it as something to lead you out of. If you're worried about your own pregnancy, they'll try to ease your worries by explaining where the hospitals are and their quality of care, assuring you they'd never expect you to go through an at home birth.

If you couldn't be convinced, despite their best efforts... Then yeah they'll sabatouge you. Canonically Fen stopped your birth control when you arrived (responsibly, of course) so that won't be an issue. If it's an internal thing, Fen will either remove it themself (they have your medical files) or pay someone else to do it if it's too risky to DIY (loaded sentence but I promise it'll get addressed in the VN). They'll poke holes in condoms, refuse to use condoms, focus on having sex on high fertility days, etc.

But there's a catch: Fen never pressures you to have sex. They'll tease a bit and try to seduce you, but they won't whine or manipulate or threaten their way into it. Fens concept of consent is solid, at least sexually. But they're willing to wade around in that gross gray area and do stuff without your knowledge (Poking holes in condoms IS assault)

And they'll act as surprised as you genuinely are when the pregnancy test comes back positive.

However there are reasons that Fen understands completely.

Such as it being a medical problem. If it's unsafe, Fen doesn't even want to risk it. You're too precious to them to do anything risky, especially since pregnancies have so many variables.

There's also just firmly not wanting kids. If you can get it into Fens head that you just have zero desire for kids, they'll back off. They'll bring it up every so often (like two years) but they don't require kids to be happy.

However, you will need to prevent them from bringing home new cats.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Congrats on 1,000 followers! Could you do Michael Kesselring + “test came back negative” please?

Oh, he'd get his hopes up too. That man is built to have a hockey team of kids who are all giants who terrorise the league and constantly end up in the penalty box cause they're too tall. This is....how to describe: starts as angst, ends up mildly nsfw 18+ MDNI, rollercoaster. TW: Fertility issues/struggles getting pregnant 1000 Followers Celly Currently ongoing 🥳🎉 (please read the rules) Big requests/full fic/big idea requests are closed at the moment but drabble and prompt requests are still open. Writing Masterlist

You're already dreading breaking the news to Michael. It's no secret that the two of you have been trying for a baby, and each negative pregnancy test felt like a blow, a physical hit to you both. You hated it, but you could handle it, it wasn't either of your faults...it was just the way things worked out. Getting pregnant wasn't simple, it was a science of sorts to maximise your chances. It would happen, it just might take a while.

But Michael? Michael took it hard each time like it was somehow his fault that you weren't pregnant yet. He wanted so badly to be a dad and you knew he was worried, wondering if it would ever happen. You couldn't pretend that you didn't have some of those worries too.

So to see another negative result staring at you from the bathroom sink? That was the worst news of your day.

He's waiting where you left him outside the bathroom, sat on the edge of the bed, knee bouncing up and down nervously. The moment he spots you he's on his feet, rising to meet you, that glimmer of hope in his eyes that you know is about to get crushed again.

“The test came back negative...”

You watch Michael's face drop as he sits back down on the edge of the bed, face falling into his hands as he hunches over and you know it's more than just disappointment before he even says a single word.

"It's my fault..."

"Michael..." You move to sit next to him, tugging at his arms until he looks at you, eyes wet with tears, guilt swimming in them like he's done something unforgivable.

"No, they keep saying male fertility is like declining or whatever...we know you're ovulating, you still get your periods...it's me. It's got to be me...I'm the problem. It's my fault..."

"Most couples struggle to get pregnant, it's not as easy as one time and we're done...even if it is your fertility it's not your fault, it'll happen when it happens." You brush some dark curls away from his forehead, pushing them back and out of the way. Maybe it might seem backward to some that you're comforting him, but you know how much this matters to Michael, you know how much he worries about it, how desperately he wants this. He's not immune to those feelings just because he's the man in the relationship.

"Then why do I feel like I've fucked up?"

"Because you care, because we both want this so badly...look on the bright side?" You smile at him, fingers brushing the stubble starting to grown across his cheeks as he looks at you like you've gone insane.

"Oh yeah, and what's that?" You choose to ignore the eyeroll, to forgive it knowing how he's feeling right now.

Instead you throw a leg over his lap until you're straddling his hips, grinning down at him as you whisper, "You get to keep fucking me until it takes..."

You watch the way Michael's eyes widen before darkening, how his tongue comes out to wet his bottom lip. You feel his hands reach to grip your hips tight, tugging until you're sat flush on his lap, his cock hardening underneath you.

"Oh..."

"Oh." Your grin only widens when you rock against him, his eyelids fluttering shut, eyelashes long against his cheeks at the feeling of you against him. It doesn't take much for him to become hard and hot between your thighs, already thinking of how it'll feel to sink in you again, to cum in you again until it takes, until you're finally carrying his baby. He can keep doing this a million times over, not a chore at all, maybe you're right...maybe this is a bright side, a silver lining.

"Cool, cool...fuck, baby, you trying to kill me?" You're kissing his neck, teeth nipping at his Adam's apple as he swallows, sucking hickeys under his jaw until his eyes are rolling as much as his hips, until he's gripping you so tight that you're going to have bruises.

"Not before you give me a baby, no."

[skeletonh0e]

A lot more people seemed interested in my interpretation of Underlust than I thought so fuck it, LORE POST

I'm putting this under read more because of length, but also while this is not a NSFW post there is talk of NSFW subjects and a slight tw for talk of non-con (it's not GRAPHIC or the main topic but it's talked about)

Also pls keep in mind none of this is meant to bash the og creator despite how problematic they are, this is simply my take on it

Without further adieu

UNDERLUST BUT I WRITE IT

I'll keep the basic premise, less in the sense that the underground was struggling with extreme fertility issues and more so that after falling into the underground it had entered a massive depression. Monsters were losing hope faster than ever, relationships weren't being formed and underpopulation quickly became a problem

Toriel and Asgore quickly realized that if something wasn't done they would be on the verge of extinction. So both to encourage monsters to have children AND to hopefully bring monsters out of this depressive funk they decided to push for a very sex positive culture

The two publicly opened their own marriage as example, they both started their own royal harems, they hired celebrities to put a focus on fun and sex appeal and even made so being a sex worker was a government job thus having a lot of benefits as well as a certain level of natural respect that professions such as military ranks or post workers get

The end result did actually help, monsters started having relationships and the environment became a lot less somber. It wasn't their intention to start an otherwise very hedonistic culture but that did come the end result. Do a lot of monsters do dress provocatively, there is a lot of brothels, clubs and there's a much heavier focus on drugs, drinking, etc, than there ever was in the vanilla undertale

So this is less "Undertale but everyone is OUTRAGEOUSLY HORNY all the time" and more Undertale if everyone was raised in an environment where it was just natural to be open about your sexuality. Think basically if you were trapped in Vegas 24/7

So some important things to note in general

Toriel and Asgore not only have kids, but a lot more than they did canonically. All of them are alive and as a result both of them are noticeably a lot older. Both silver foxes who can still get it tho, they're also still together technically but as said before open poly marriage with their own harems

Asriel is around and a full ground adult in this AU, his design is very similar to his hyper death god form and in this AU he's the one you meet in the ruins not Tori. He's not trapped there he's just a hermit (he flirts with the player but it's clear he's joking I headcanon Az as aroace lmao)

As those last two things imply Flowey is not around either

The amalgamations aren't around either, the monsters that created of them have simply fallen and passed. Alphys is still the royal scientist yes but we'll expand more on that later

No other humans have fallen into the underground therefore there are no human souls in Asgores possession and therefore there are no orders to kill any humans to gather said souls

The royal guard still exists, there is no "royal sluts" like in the original AU as funny as it would be. But it's noticeably more lax and even then like typical military bros they frequent strip shows, brothels, etc.

This also very importantly leads me to the next big thing that's very different about my interpretation of Underlust

Mettaton

This is not a post made to critique the og AU, but I will say I simply never cared for how he was handled in the original. In my interpretation Mettaton isn't hypersexualized either, though not afraid to use sex appeal here or there but his main role is basically the head honcho of the sex worker industry

The MTT Resort is a lot more expansive in this universe, covering nearly all of hot land, the capital, a decent chunk of water fall, and even has a smaller location in Snowdin. It is basically Vegas for lack of a better comparison, with a lot of strip shows, nsfw areas, bars, and even places where you can gamble

Mettaton is still a performer and not a sex worker himself, he still has family friendly segments but also late talk night shows for his older audience (it's not sexual not counting the ha ha funny raunchy jokes), he is strictly in his Mettaton EX form from the start not his boxy one and I can't draw for shit but if I could his aesthetic would he very pimp inspired dw it's just an aesthetic though he's a good boss

Further more when a lot of monsters being employed under him as show girls and/or sex workers this where I have to mention in this AU both Sans and Papyrus work for Mettaton. The former as an entertainer and escort, the latter as security (but Mettaton does give Pap a somewhat suggestive outfit so make of that what you will), various other characters are also employed under him but not all as prostitutes, Muffet for example has her own area dedicated to selling baked goods as well as managing the rooms of the guests.

Which leads us to the next talking point

Sans

I like to nickname Lust Sans as simply "Ace" for context, but what's different about him here aside from the obvious parts of being a sex worker, being very flirty and dressing different? Well first things first

This Sans is not aware of resets nor does he have ANY memory of them

Doesn't make sense for him too, no other humans, no determination experiments, flowey isn't around, etc, etc. The only time anyone gets the ability to reset is when the player falls into the underground and the most he'll be aware is having similar moments of deja vu that other characters get, but for the most part? Man isn't even aware that's a thing people can do

Adding onto that he's a lot less....depressed in this AU, ppl tend to forget that the knowledge of resets has upset Sans greatly. Man is DEPRESSED and it's at least part of the reason for his extreme laziness, literally takes the end of the world for him to get off his ass and do something (genocide route)

Ace as a result is a lot more proactive and noticeably less pessimistic, not to say he doesn't have any issues, the thing about this underground is the hedonistic culture is in a way to cope with the general depressing situation of the underground with Sans being no exception

I also like to think he doesn't have 1 HP as a result too, it's still low but not determentally low

For the most part he is still Sans, he's a lot more flirtatious and a low more show boaty that his Undertale counterpart but he's also still a silly little guy who loves to joke around and make puns. There's definitely a comedic twist to any of his performances, can you do a comedy routine during a live sex show or something akin to that? Idk but it's Sans he probably finds a way

And it's also worth noting that you don't encounter this Sans in Snowdin, you probably won't even officially meet him until you hit the MTT Resort. But you do see posters in Snowdin and hear talk about him at Grillby's (yes Grillby's is more of a nightclub here and Sans does frequent it just not as often)

Next question though

Frisk and Chara?

If you haven't figured it out, Chara never fell into the underground and was never adopted by the Dreemurrs, never died, etc. Chara is not in this AU in any form and adding onto that Frisk is not the character that we play as in this hypothetical Underlust Game

It does not make sense to include them and I cannot think of a way to include them that doesn't feel...weird somehow. Obviously it would be inappropriate to include them as children, but even if you aged them up you have to deal with characters possibly making advances on them and I uh- don't like that

So simply put they are just not here. So who do we play as in Underlust?

You play as whoever you want!

In my interpretation the protagonist is strictly 100% customizable so it can be your own OC or just a self insert, the only things that are for certain about the protagonist are:

They're human They're an adult The have the soul trait of "Lust"

Next question? What does it mean to have the "Lust" trait?

First off, your soul is pink in this AU!

Due to monsters not being as willing to attack humans (not all of them are super friendly mind you but you aren't entering battles left and right), having the Lust trait doesn't allow for a unique battle mode. Instead it allows you to enter "conversation battles" for lack of a better word

Think of it as being similar to the "Back talk challenges" in Life is Strange before the Storm, your ability comes to be able to charm, convince, befriend or even possibly manipulate others to progress through the underground. And yes hypothetically use seduction to get your way

How you use this ability is up to you, you can be as sweet as a peach only using the most moral method to progress or you can be a two faced bitch playing mind games. And just to clarify the option to sleep with characters is not treated as being either bad or good (unless you use it as a form of manipulation), you can go through the entire underground not being even a little sexually active or you can progress through it sleeping with nearly everyone you get a chance with

Neither option will reflect on your characters morality, the only thing that does is how you choose to treat others

Now....

Genocide Route? Pacifist Route? What's the end goal here?

This is where I confess that this is the one aspect I haven't 100% figured out so I'm down to hear some thoughts as I think ideally there would be multiple endings so far all I have is

-> Lustbound Ending (You choose to just stay in the underground) -> Bloodlust Ending (The genocide route) -> Lust Freed Ending (Neutral Route, you killed a boss monster then escaped the underground)

A genocide and neutral routes are possible in this AU, but its different as you 100% have to be the aggressor in this situation, I would like for there to be something akin to a trust pacifist ending where the underground is freed but I haven't 100% figured out how that would happen given that there aren't any human souls or Flowey in this AU

Other Stuff that I want to bring up but didn't fit into the other categories

Asriel does give you a phone and you can call him through out the underground, unlike Toriel he definitely answers though he takes on a similar role to Papyrus in this AU since you don't befriend the skelebros until later in the story

As mentioned before the amalgamations never happened, Alphys didn't experiment with determination in this AU. When Asgore and Toriel were pushing for a more sex positive culture, they requested her help (thus why Mettaton has his glam body from the start) but also to help the under population problem Alphys worked on drugs that basically functioned as aphrodisiacs / viagara to help monsters further populate

This....helped but backfired a bit as monsters started to use these substances for less than savory purposes (you can figure out the rest), but it made her guilty enough to disband ever working on them again, but the damage was still done and it is a part of the reason why there's a noticeable drug culture in the underground now that just wasn't there before

While I lean hardcore into the underground is just Vegas with the focus on booze, sex, etc, there are areas that are just normal. Mainly the Ruins, most of Snowdin, and of course Asgore's castle

Another thing I want to clarify is that the hedonistic life style isn't entirely bad, it did help the underground and pulled monsterkind as a whole out of a great depression. It is simply a different way of coping with a bad situation that a lot of monsters have taken to. That being said, it's not entirely good either as mentioned above there are problems and risks with life styles like this

Is it the right way to handle it? The wrong way to handle it? Does it matter because some monsters are finally happy now? Who's to say, a fun debate to be had for sure but the entire point is that there's a lot of room for debate to be had about it

But also like I said I haven't 100% figured out everything about my Underlust interpetation so I'm down to hear some thoughts and you are always welcomed to ask some questions