#tw worm fucking

[inkykeiji]

how would touya-nii respond to the classic “would you still love me if i was a worm” question😭😭

“yes, but i probably wouldn’t fuck you.”

it is now your job to convince him that worms can be pretty and sexy and fun to fuck, which would then turn into a philosophical discussion on how you’d fuck a worm, and if worms can give ‘worm jobs’ by wrapping around his shaft and jerking him off like a slinky. in the end, he’s changed his mind—yes, he would still love you, and yes, he would still fuck you, too.

#tw worm fucking #LMAOOOOOOO #this is 100% a conversation you’re having in the middle of the night #happy first day of CHRISTMASSSSSS ANON #<333 #have a gr8 wednesday n stay safe! #touya nii universe #inky.bb #clari gets mail

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Also, totally not me grieving, but what if Ruin fucked up and just managed to turn several trillion people and animatronics into cats instead of collapsing their dimensions.

So, then, after Solar 'dies' Moon is just standing screaming meanwhile newly kitten Solar is pressing his face against Moons legs in confusion because he's tiny and cold on the floor and doesn't know how to move besides wriggling like a worm.

#sun and moon show #sams #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #kitten solar au #fnaf ruin eclipse #fnaf moon #fnaf solar #ruin: *fucks up so bad he turns solar into a newborn kitten* #moon: bestie are you a furry worm? #sun: moon he's just a kitten like...newborn kitten. newborn kittens need warmth hold him idiot! #snoweytrashposts #snoweytalks #snoweyrambles #snoweyrants #tw cursing #tw death mention

[nojaloart]

teenage superheroes and father/son relationships that are sooo so normal i promise

#invincible #mark grayson #nolan grayson #omni man #art tingz #started watching it last weekend w my brother and just finished s1!! the brains sure are worming #‘you dad i’d still have you’ is kind of fucking with my brain chemistry. i don’t think we can ssri ourselves out of this one gang #blood tw #violence tw

[pistachi0art]

been talking about a infection au- Gordo starting a chain reaction by biting Benrey (who doesn’t tell anyone about it)…to then shortly disappear afterwards- Tommy’s the leader now!

#inspired by all those tik tok mlp aus lol #look at what the damn worm did to my son! he’s now a dark fucked up version of himself take a glimpse into his dark reality #hlvrai infection au #hlvrai gordos feetman #hlvrai benrey #tw infection #tw parasite #Idk if that’s the best tag just give me a heads up #and for good measure #tw blood

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price as Witchfinder Matthew Hopkins

Witchfinder General/The Conqueror Worm (1968) dir. Michael Reeves

#vincent price #matthew hopkins #Witchfinder General #the conqueror worm #edgar allan poe #witch #witches #satanist #tw: death #such a good movie #and his acting is superb #one of his favorite roles #also he's insanely sexy #fuck.. #ill confess to anything sir... #please punish me #bicon #bisexual #god #icon #horror #old horror movies #vintage #movie #actor #handsome #gif #gifs made by me #gif set

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

(transfem top x ambiguous gender pov bottom, woundfucking smut, do not read if you are underage. trigger list will be in the first reply.)

the girl you've been talking to online turns out to be local. not too surprising since your city is so major compared to some of the other ones left, but still good news. you had plans to meet up tonight at a bar near her place and are almost ready when she sends you this text:

sorry have 2 cancel bc work running late. i work from home tho so if u want 2 come over i can send the address

you agree and she gives you the address to her apartment. she says the door will be unlocked when you get there so let yourself in. you send her a thumbs up and head over. her apartment building is very poorly designed - the only door into her place is accessible from the third landing of a rusted fire escape. you let yourself in after verifying that you have the right unit number. immediately after opening the door you are struck by the scent of blood and sweat, as well as other smells you can't immediately put names to and the humming of what sounds like a loud fan. she calls out from another room. she says hey. she says shut the door. you do. she says sorry i cant greet you im in the living room and cant move. you say thats ok and head towards her voice. the scent gets worse as you head through the door into her living room.

on top of the dirtiest sofa you've ever seen lies a man you do not know. he appears to be asleep, though with the state he's in it's difficult to tell. he has no legs, and no bandages covering the bloody stumps where they once were. the legs that previously WERE attached are sitting on the ground in a heap, along with his similarly detached arms. his chest cavity is open, and his ribs are unfolded. various tubes lead out of the open cavity. some of them are made of plastic and lead to what appear to be bags of saline, blood, and a strange machine with vents along the top that whirs loudly, the source of the noise you heard before. others are made of flesh, their shape and size similar to how you imagine intestines look, and they connect to several of the man's organs, which are currently stowed on a three-tiered rolling metal cart.

on the middle shelf is a jar of neon blue liquid, inside of which his heart sits, still beating thanks to live electrical wires leading to what appears to be a gutted and repurposed chunky plastic kid's electric piano. his lungs hang off of a hook on the side, inflating and deflating in a shuddering motion that is not at all what you expected breathing to look like. the middle shelf also holds his kidneys, one of which has been disconnected and sits in a pool of blood on the bare shelf. the other is in a jar of what seems to be some sort of clear jelly. the bottom shelf holds a concerning pile of viscera, none of it connected to the man. you pick out his stomach and intestines easily enough, but the offwhite translucent fatty mass that clings to the intestines and the sad grey sac included in the mix are foreign to you. the top shelf holds several organs you don't recognize as well - a yellowish-gray waxy lump in a vaguely phallic shape and a small red orb , both of which are suspended in the same jar of pale yellowish fluid and appear to connect back to the same fleshy duct. they twitch occasionally, but are otherwise motionless. another top shelf organ you identify as the liver. it has no special setup, simply laying flat on the shelf, but is nonetheless connected in several places and seems to be functioning normally, especially as you can see some sort of dirty yellow-brown liquid dripping out of it through a plastic tube and into a large, clear bottle that you're pretty sure was a mayo bottle at some point in its past. finally, two large cooking pots are gently simmering over a large camping stove, connected to the rest of the mess of tubes, ducts, veins, and flesh. one of the pots has a lid on, leaving you unable to see what's inside of it. the other is about half-full of an off-white, slightly meaty substance.

in the center of the mess sits the girl you're here to see. you've exchanged both lewd and non-lewd images before, so you recognize her well enough, though you haven't seen her in these clothes before. if you can call them that. she's wearing simple black panties, a pair of light grey ankle-height socks, a deeply stained apron with a heart and a KISS THE COOK on it (though somebody has taken a maroon fabric marker, crossed out COOK, and written SURGEON below it), a pair of yellow rubber dishwashing gloves, and nothing else. her legs have a thin covering of hair, as if she shaved four or five days ago and it's starting to grow back but she hasn't had the energy to shave it again. her wavy blond hair is unkempt, and she makes no effort to tie it back. this is somewhat concerning, as she currently sits hunched over the dismembered man on the couch, her hands inside of his open body cavity. her hair hangs around her face, the ends of it matted and dirty with blood and other fluids.

the man you thought was either sleeping or dead opens his eyes and turns to look at you, silent, a look of blank curiosity on his face.

she stands and turns to you. she looks like she hasn't slept in five weeks. there are track marks on her left arm. she extends a blood-soaked glove for you to shake. you take it, dazed. she says hey, nice to finally meet you in person. im riley. doctor riley grace davis MDE. you say nice to meet you too. she says sorry that theres not space on the sofa here. when she draws her hand back to gesture you wipe the blood off on your pants as best you can. she says do you want to sit at the kitchen table or go straight to the bedroom? you say um. you say sorry if this is rude but who is that? she says one of my clients. you say clients? she says yeah. you both look at each other for a moment. you say uh, sorry, what is it you do exactly? she says did it never come up? you say no. she says oh. she says sorry im used to people having heard of me, guess i forgot to mention. you say its fine. she says im a plastic surgeon.

you glance at the man with his organs spread out across the cart. you say that looks like a little bit more than plastic surgery. she says im very talented. you say isn't plastic surgery minimally invasive? im very talented, she repeats. come on into the kitchen, she says, turning to lead the way. you say uh, is it okay to leave him like that? she says yeah. you say isnt he going to bleed out? she says trust me, i'm a doctor. as she heads through the door she reaches one gloved hand to tap a frame on the wall. a smudge of blood is left behind on the glass. you look at the frame.

The assembled medical staff, Thinker-class parahumans, and administrative staff of the Parahuman Response Team East-Northeast, in cooperation with the governance of New Brockton on Earth Gimel, confer on RILEY GRACE DAVIS-LAVERE the degree of MEDICAL DOCTORATE EQUIVALENCY for recognition of medical knowledge and talent conferred by a parahuman ability, evaluated and classified as Tinker 8, as well as for the demonstration of excellence in prior practice of medicine and the use of that parahuman ability to complete an assessment of medical knowledge and talent agreed upon by PRT staff.

you follow her into the kitchen. in the time it took you to read her doctorate, she has apparently doffed both the apron and the gloves, which now sit on a pile in the floor. she holds out a bottle to you as you join her at the table. it's a green glass bottle with no label. what is this, you ask. beer she says. she says i made it myself. you take a terrified sip. it tastes amazing.

you are acutely aware of the fact that she is now topless. my eyes are up here she says. you say sorry, but she's grinning lecherously. she says you like'em that much? you say honestly i was stuck on how different you look from your pictures. she says wow, rude. you say i didn't mean it like that. she says how did you mean it? you take a second to collect your thoughts. you say your boobs are at least 50% larger in person. she says puberty is a magical thing. you say puberty? she says yup. you say how old are you? she says don't you know how to talk to a lady? you say absolutely nothing about this visit has led me to believe you're a lady. she laughs. you have no idea how to label the sound of her laugh in your mind. it would almost be a cackle if it didn't degenerate into a giggle. she says you wanna know how old i am? you say yes. she says me too, kid. you say what year were you born? she says 1998. you say okay, so- she raises a finger to stop you from talking. she drains her beer, then slams it down and starts talking very fast.

born in 1998, triggered and stopped aging mentally in 2005, went on puberty blockers in 2010, started aging mentally again in 2011, went off puberty blockers in 2012, undid my puberty and went back ON puberty blockers in 2013, then all of my self-modifications were undone also in 2013, and i dont know what else in my body changed at the same time, went off puberty blockers again in 2014, or 1 GM if you use that calendar, i dont because thats stupid but just in case, aged fairly normally until 2023, then undid my puberty again because i was scared, aged normally until 2029, and from then on my Amy and i have theseus shipped me about twenty times over because staying the same is boring. so yeah. the paperwork says i'm 38, let's go with that.

you dont know how to respond to that. to any of that. she gets up and says sorry, ill be back in a second. she leaves the room. you take another sip of the beer. you don't like beer. how the fuck does this taste so good? you glance around the kitchen a bit, not getting up. it's clean in the sort of way that indicates it doesn't see much use. the only thing that has clearly been used frequently is the microwave, which you can tell from here has probably never been cleaned since she bought it. at least the lack of mess means there's probably no mouse, rat, or ant problem. in here, at least. you vaguely wonder if the bloody, dying man in the other room would attract vermin.

she returns, shrugging on a filthy grey hooded sweatshirt and carrying a small case. she says sorry, room gets cold as balls sometimes. dont usually notice it while im working. she grabs another beer out of the fridge, then sits down and pulls a rolled cigarette out of the case. she pulls an old zippo out of the sweatshirt's front pocket, lights it, and starts puffing. it doesn't smell like nicotine or marijuana. want one, she asks. you say what are they. she says salvia mostly. she says bit of kratom to mellow it, but mostly salvia. are those safe to use together you ask. especially while drinking. she pauses. she says fuck, iunno. id hardly notice at this point if i started to OD. pretty sure im good enough to fix it if i do. fix it you ask. she says yeah. how you ask. she says im a doctor. damn good one too, she says. you say arent you a plastic surgeon. she says im a lot of things.

she says sure you don't want it? you seem tense. you say uh, ive never really been high before, don't want to start with untested interactions, no offense. she says none taken. she says youre drinking, though, that counts. you say im drinking but ive never really been drunk. she says wanna fix that? you say im good. she says good. she says being drunk sucks. she says worst depressant there is, just use tranquilizers if you want to start acting like an idiot and forget it all the next day. you say i didn't know you were so into this, um, scene, i guess? she squints at you. she says are you a cop? you say no. she says cause you're being awkward and simultaneously pretending you know and don't know what you're talking about and that's what a cop does. you say i'm not a cop. she says none of this is illegal. she says all this shit falls under the realm of reasonable materials for her research. you say i SWEAR im not a cop. she says and jeff in the living room there signed the consent forms and waivers before i started doing that shit to him. you say if i were a cop i would be given better training on handling this situation than just repeatedly saying im not a cop.

she says if youre not a cop why are you so fucking tense? she says calm the fuck down. you say um. she says you were so casual over text, thought we had good chemistry. you say we did. she says so whats got you like this? is it cause ive got a client? you start to answer her but she keeps talking. she says sorry about that, really. she says it was supposed to be a simple body swap job, organs out, couple changes, organs in, but dude keeps asking for more and more weird shit until somehow the plan has changed to him floating inside of a translucent biological skin suspended in a mix of lympatic fluid and vitreous jelly. you say what?? she says and i got no problem with that, but it means im gonna need a fuckton more meat than i thought i did when i started, and its gotta match him or his antibodies are gonna fuck him UP, so now im working his stem cells and bone marrow overtime to cook me up all the shit i need, meanwhile hes on life support and all this equipment is so esoteric i gotta babysit it the whole time, so i can't get away like we planned. again sorry about that she says.

you say its fine, i just didnt know what your job was. you say caught me off guard coming in and seeing a guy opened up like that. for a second started wondering if i was next. you laugh awkwardly. she does not laugh. she smokes a little more without saying anything. the silence goes on an uncomfortably long time.

she says do you want to be?

you say what? she says dates get discounts on ops, especially if its something hot or something simple. im really fucking talented too she says. she says you saw the state jeffs in and hes still alive and well. so cmon, anything you want? you say um. she says cmon, dont get shy now, tell me! you weren't scared to talk about kinks online. you say well there is one thing, not a body mod exactly but something that wouldn't be possible to do under normal circumstances. she says out with it, grinning wolfishly. you say im, uh, kind of into woundfucking.

she takes another gulp of her beer. she says god, who the fuck isn't? she says i'll never understand why that isnt a more common thing. seeing somebody as so much of an object that youd put a new hole into them just for your own fun. or alternatively, loving someone so much that you need to feel what it's like inside every part of them, need to connect with their muscle and blood just as much as you do the rest of them. fuck, it's delicious, she says, her grin stretching unnaturally wide, like a Glasgow smile that opened to reveal more teeth and gums. you have never felt more afraid. you have never felt more turned on.

you top or bottom, she asks. bottom you answer. good, she says, cause i've been wondering what you would look like screaming this whole time. your eyes widen. she downs the rest of her beer and stands up, grabbing your arm and yanking you up as she does so. she says cmon. you follow her, if only because when she pulls at you you briefly feel she may have the strength to tear your arm from its socket.

you pass through the living room. she shouts out yo, jeff. the unseamed man opens his eyes and looks at you. you cant read his expression. she says im gonna be busy in the next room for a couple hours. if you start dying, she says, slam your head into this. she grabs what looks like a game show buzzer off of a bookshelf covered in junk and sets it on the couch next to his head. she says should be loud enough for me to hear from the bedroom and come get you stabilized. blink twice if you got that. he blinks twice. she says cool, later. she pulls you through another nearby door and slams it closed behind her.

her bedroom is a confusing mix of the junk and grime you saw in the other room with a shockingly pristine bed. her clothes are strewn about the floor and the walk-in closet, with no organizational system you can discern, not even between clean and dirty. in fact, you wouldn't have called any of these clothes clean. she opens the cabinet under the bedside table, pulls out a huge roll of plastic sheeting, and covers the bed. ah. that explains it.

is this a dexter reference, or... you say, trailing off. she laughs again. what the fuck is that laugh? she says my amy got frustrated having to clean the sheets literally all the time so now i just do this instead. you say er, whos amy. she looks at you like youve lost your mind, a hypothesis you cannot disprove as you think on the situation. my wife, she says. wife you ask? she says fuck, did i not mention this either? shit, fuck, goddamnit. she says ive been married for three years. you say uhhhhhhhh. she says oh dont worry she knows! shes cool the relationships open. uh, unless YOURE not comfortable with me being poly, i guess. fuck i couldve sworn i mentioned this, she says. its not a problem you say. she says you wanna keep going? you say yeah. she says good.

she heads into the walk-in closet, grabbing a three-tiered cart from under a shelf and starting to wheel it to the bed. allergies, she asks? oxybenzone, you say. she says well im not planning to inject any fucking sunscreen into you, so i dont think thats relevant. you say look i dont know how any of this works, better safe than sorry. she says dont worry, you're always safe with me. AND im going to make you sorry, she says. she giggles before she stomps on a toggle on the cart that locks the wheels. you get a look at this cart and see that it has a collection of medical and not-so-medical implements, with the middle shelf appearing to contain various bottles, jars, and tubs of what you hope are medicines while the top shelf holds needles, sutures, scalpels, saws, scissors, and almost any kind of tool you can think of that holds a blade, from bread knives to x-actos. the bottom shelf has a large circular saw and a rusted chainsaw.

traffic light system for safety checks, she asks? you say yeah. cool she says. she pushes you onto the bed, the plastic crinkling as your head hits the pillow and you fall on your back. she sits on top of you, straddling your lap, holding your hands over your head by the wrist with one hand. she's freakishly strong, far moreso than her spindly limbs should allow. she takes the cigarette out of her mouth. you swallow. your eyes flick to it. you say sorry, can you, um... she grabs your neck, interrupting your speech and yanking your head forward. she leans down, spits on your cheek, and shoves the lit end of the cigarette against the same spot. the saliva buffers it slightly, but the burning feeling is still intense, a pain that rides through several seconds as she presses the cigarette into flesh. you hear yourself whining at the pain.

she flicks the now-extinguished cigarette aside and kisses you. it tastes like blood and morning breath and ash. she picks up one of the scalpels. in stark contrast to the rest of her home, each and every one of the tools is in sparkling pristine condition. she toys with the scalpel as she looks you up and down. you have any experience with being cut into, she asks? you say huh?, taking some time to process. oh, you say. um not really you say. never done cutting during play before and my only surgeries have been dental when i was a lot younger. she says no problem. she says im only gonna dull your pain a little, but let me know if i need to adjust sensation up or down. you nod breathlessly. she angles the scalpel and cuts through the front of your shirt, a swift motion that leaves the tip of the blade an inch or two from your neck. you recoil on instinct and she giggles again, pulling the knife back and moving the fabric of your shirt aside. she takes one of the smaller jars from the cart and dips two fingers in it, the scalpel dancing in her fingers as she does so, like a bored baton twirler doing pen tricks. the paste is bright pink, and she rubs it into the flesh of your upper stomach. you feel your nerves start to tingle slightly as she finishes.

she fills a syringe with something pastel red. placing her hand against the numbed area of your stomach, she spread her fingers, guiding the needle between two of them to hold it steady. you watch the point of the needle break skin, feel it sinking through your flesh. she depresses the plunger slowly. you exhale as she removes the needle. gooood toy, she says softly. your breath hitches at the praise and she smirks. she presses the scalpel to your skin, but doesn't start to cut. color, she asks? you say green. she smiles. she says making the incision.

the feeling of blade breaking skin isn't the sort of jarring penetration you thought it would be. the transition between the scratching pain of the scalpel against your skin to the actual slicing sensation is gradual, and you're not certain you could have pinpointed the moment if you weren't watching. you find yourself gritting your teeth, your jaw clenching involuntarily as your body tries not to vocalize the pain. it isn't intense, but it's persistent and deliberate in a way that doesn't match what you think pain should feel like.

riley is more energetic than youve seen her this whole time. she starts to hum happily to herself, cutting through your skin and flesh. the incision is vertical, two inches long and ending about an inch and a half above your belly button. she retrieves a pair of those metal clamps surgeons use to hold the incision open during surgery. you don't know what those are called. maybe you should ask her. you think that would kill the mood. you'll ask her after. she inserts them into the incision, adjusting the tension so that they spread it open about an inch. she notices you looking. she says you don't need to watch if it makes you squeamish, pet. you swallow hard. you say i want to watch. she giggles.

you lose track of time, watching her work. she wields the tools with a grace, precision, and speed you didn't think was possible. the blood wells out as she does so, flecks of it flying when she moves too frenetically, adding to the stains on her hoodie. it covers the ends of her fingers, drops trailing down to paint their streaks further down her hands and arms, like candle wax melting. your blood. her hands. you feel slightly faint, and you don't know if it's from arousal or bloodloss. the pain is constant, but still sharp enough not to ache. you breath shallowly, occasionally whimpering or letting your breath hitch as the scalpel catches flesh. for the most part, neither of you speak, though from time to time she gives soft praise, her voice warm and comforting as she assures you of how sweet and well-behaved you're being.

she isn't just making a hole. you don't know exactly what she's doing, but it's not just cutting. the needle and thread flash in her hands from time to time, and you can feel the muscle and fat in your torso being stretched and pulled, split and joined in new ways. your angle of view prevents you from seeing the operating area, to your dismay, and at times you almost speak up and ask if you could reposition so you could watch better - but you know you can't. it's not your place to ask anything of her. she's the one in charge.

still, you wish you could see. she described herself as a plastic surgeon earlier, but her movements don't match that description. it is not the slow, precise, micro-motion of a surgeon; her body language is free and expressive, passionate in a way that reveals her true nature. she is an artist, her chosen medium skin and meat, the tools of her craft surgical by their raw nature but not in the way she wields them. the blood-covered flesh, the sinew and fat held beneath your skin and even the skin itself are only the raw material with which she crafts her magnum opus. a sculptor of a living body, like a leatherworker or carver of bone taken to the logical conclusion.

she pulls off her sweatshirt, a sheen of perspiration covering her skin. your eyes are glued to her bare form. she notices you staring and flashes a predatory grin. aw, someone likes watching, huh? she says. you nod dumbly, and she chuckles. stupid little pile of meat, she says, affection in her voice. you think you might be in love. you cannot tear your eyes from her, though she evidently does not mind the attention as she returns to her work.

your gaze is not lustful, though doubtlessly lust is the predominant feeling in you. your focus is drawn to her through fascination and adoration, not arousal. you study her curves, the hair of her stomach, the dullling red stretch marks that frame her chest and gut and streak across her thighs, because this is the body of the woman who is recreating you. is this not the same as knowing the form of the god who shaped you in his image?

no, it is something different from that. this is not the god who made adam in his image but the god who knew man would need a companion, and shaped one from a rib torn from the body of his creation. a divinity that does not create from whole cloth but rends meat and bone until its craft is complete. a godly vulture, a being that tears its hooks into the carcass of the universe and pulls free a dried, gristly tendon, granting importance to that which exists but lied bound beneath the surface of the skin, out of sight, out of mind, waiting to ooze its way free from this veil of vellum. the perfected form of imperfection. the blood is drying in her filthy, matted hair. she takes a pill bottle from the cart, pours out a handful, and swallows them without water before returning to the frenzied stitching of your adipose tissues.

what must be hours later, she sits up and wipes the sweat from her brow, smearing your blood across it at the same time. she wipes more of the blood onto her thighs, apparently to clean her hands, though they are still caked with grime and gore. think its done, she says. she says anesthetic should be wearing off too. she sets the scalpel down and leans over you. she's right; you feel the sensation returning to the area she's operated on in full force. she lays on her side next to you, head propped up on her hand, her other arm draped across your body, cheshire smile on her face. you feel her fingertips lazily trace the edges of the gash before she slides one in.

how do you describe the sensation? what does it really feel like for something to work its way between the folds of your muscle, for subcutaneous fat and flesh to be pressed aside, molded, to make way for the penetrating presence of another? the pain is omnipresent, but not overwhelming as you expected it would be. the flesh holds sensation deeper than you thought it would as well - several inches beneath your skin, you can feel her fingers hook inside of you. you can't tell how much of the pleasure is physical and how much is psychological, but it is there, and it is overwhelming. you tense in response to it, moaning, and the tension causes your muscles to clench, sliding against her fingers, bringing sensation to new parts of your abdomen. the feedback loop overwhelms you, and you feel a disappointed whine escape you as her finger leaves the hole.

she giggles. so needy, she says. she says guess i did make you pretty sensitive, huh? you whimper in response. she says don't worry, i won't leave you empty too long. she moves, sitting on your lap, pulling the panties off as she does so. her dick flops out over your stomach. it is roughly human in shape, and on the larger end of normal human size, but its appearance throws you for a loop. it is stitched together, frankensteinian in construction, without even a consistent skin color. she notices you looking. you like it she asks? she says sort of had to bodge it together pretty quick, don't put nearly as much effort into my own body as i do others. she says amy could do better. you are far too horny to consider the implications of any of that. you whine, straining upwards to press the wound towards the tip of her cock. she laughs. good toy, she says.

she sighs deeply as she forces herself inside of you. ffffffffffuck, that's good, she says. your core muscles shift around her, flexing to squeeze her cock as she sinks it in, hilting inside of the hole. you moan, your hands coming up reflexively to cover your face in some act of shame or modesty which is at this point thoroughly meaningless. she pulls back out slowly, her cock glistening with your blood, before slamming back into you, new parts of your abdomen being forced aside to accommodate her. you think she is pressing against organs now. you desperately want her deeper.

she pulls your hands away from your face with one hand, and with the other shoves the finger that she had previously used to explore the laceration into your mouth. you suckle at it thoughtlessly as she rolls her hips, the tip of her dick forcing itself into your abdominal cavity. the taste of blood and sweat and dirt linger on your tongue. she starts thrusting hard, the repeated slamming of her cockhead against the parts of you that were never meant to be touched the only thing you can think about. it hurts. oh god, it hurts, and it feels so much better than anything you've ever felt. damn that's a good hole, she says. you don't say anything. she takes the finger out of your mouth. color, she asks? it takes you a second to connect the thought. green, you say. she says thank god. can i come in you she asks. you nod stupidly, your mouth still open from her finger being pulled out. she giggles.

she grabs your chin, tilts your head up, and presses her lips against you. she tastes like morning breath and your blood. it's delicious. you wrap your arms around her as she forces herself in and out of the gaping, bleeding wound in your stomach. she's so close to you, her whole body pressed against you as that massive, unnatural cock digs into your blood and muscle and guts. she doesn't smell like she knows what a shower is. she is practically laying on top of you. you can't think. your wrap your legs around her too.

she groans in your ear as she slams herself balls deep into the gash again. your insides are flooded with her cum. your own orgasm forces your core muscles to clench, tightening and sliding around her length, unintentionally milking her cock into you. she pulls out, laying the dick slick with blood, sweat, and cum across your stomach, as she pants. she rolls off of you, laying in bed beside you. unthinking, you turn onto your side and press your body against her. she wraps her arms around you and kisses you again.

you hear the sound of thrashing from the other room, followed by a cartoon buzzer sound effect, and then what sounds like the seinfeld jingle starts to play. she jumps to her feet. god fucking damnit, jeff, she says. she says i'll be right back as she crosses the room at a run, slamming the door behind her. the wound in your stomach is still bleeding. you have no idea how to process anything that just happened.

#wormblr #parahumans #worm spoilers #our writing #riley davis #riley grace davis #bonesaw #dr riley davis mde #hjow the fuck do i tag this #tw gore #tw body horror #tw blood #tw sex #tw medical stuff

[harukakitous]

what’s sexier than unmorphed fight scenes? N O T H I N G

#ohsama sentai kingohger #ohsama sentai king ohger #kingohger #king ohger #tw flashing lights #gira hastie #yanma gust #himeno ran #rita kaniska #kaguragi dybowski #super sentai #tokusatsu #tokuedit #my gifs #my edit #shoutout to director kato as always #and the cast for killing it despite the impractical clothing #i generally love kingohger's fight scenes but this one here is just top tier #fucking up worm ass has never been more satisfying

[roakkaliha]

PRAY / PREY

#parasites tw #worms tw #warrior cats #eyestrain #parasite!starclan #kinda wanna fuck around with this idea more #sushart

[navysealt4t]

first official day of napowrimo!!! april 1st prompt is: poem that recounts the plot of a novel you haven't read in a while. (warning for themes of war, bombing, & past abuse)

overnight in a bomb shelter

if the world ends this week  please brush my hair  i won’t ask you to be gentle  let me walk barefoot  farther away than the eye can see  in weather cold or warm  i may bite you  sting and curse you  don’t come too close  feed me and bathe me  that’s all i ask   but bombs scream overhead  planes shriek with their engines  sirens blare from the streets  in a murky shelter  buried beneath the mud  of your childhood home  your calloused hands are soft  dropping a blanket ‘round my shoulders  reading a book in the dark  my ears ring and my hands shake  you shield me with your palms  you promise to teach me to sew  to read and write  to run and climb  in moments in the dark  where the world might end  where all i smell is mold  you treat me like a child  who has never known love  i treat you like a woman  who has never known love  and for a moment  the world feels right  as the bombs scream overhead  ‘cause the world might end tonight

#napowrimo #napowrimo 2024 #blue’s writing #poetry #poem #tw war mention #tw bomb mention #tw past abuse #just for tw warnings <3 #the book this is based off is 'the war that saved my life' by kimberly bradley :] #first introduction to found family trope that i like. actually processed was found family #hence the 'child woman' not 'daughter mother' #<333 oh man ada and susan <3 #i love this book sm i needed to write about it #highly rec u read it. rlly good and complex #also ada is disabled and still living her life fuck yeah. god i love ada sm. just like me fr #also yes im posting this 3 am on april 1st. early bird gets the worm or whatever

[hana-loves-bumblebees]

So @more-than-tender-curiosity (in the tags) said

And my brain went “you know you gotta draw that, right?” and gaslit me into believing I can do digital art

Close ups

#the most fuck it we ball art i’ve made in a while #honestly what tf is anatomy i don’t know her #anyways #this was fun #nick is like i do not perceive??? #i do not comprehend??? #gatsbyverse #the great gatsby #natsby #nick carraway #jay gatsby #tw worms

[enagismos]

there are two wolves inside me. one knows that when i was skinnier i constantly felt bad, my gut health was in the trenches, i was sick and had diarrhea almost every single day and all food felt like poison. the other one watches my pictures 2 years ago and 12 kgs thinner and wants to kill myself

#tw ed #i want to lose weight but I don't want to go through this hellish spiral again i finally feel healthy enough! #no tummy ache! no sickness no headaches! but why at this cost. #yeah I also realize that I'm a little bit sick in the head I know this I know there's nothing wrong with my body #but i also don't feel beautiful anymore. and I know being healthy is more important than being beautiful #but there's this fucking WORM inside my head!!!!!!! telling me shit!!!! #tw eating disorder

[spacehell69]

well now you are being kinda annoying

#gore cw #gore tw #tw gore #cw gore #body horror #the art #nini #he puts most of his focus on just keeping his external apparence stable so his insides are all fucked up #they move like a bunch of worms or whatever #like that found footage scene in Annihilation

[gecko-in-a-can]

seen some Vampire Bennys lately and I’d be a FOOL not to join in

#benny gecko #benny fnv #fallout new vegas #fnv #fallout #Gecko draws #Hella simple one #I was Tempted to do the usual suit style but figured the checkerboard pattern would suit the simple flats/monochrome background better #Also fuck hands #hands are weird as hell and I’m still not entirely happy with this #I need to draw someone besides this motherfucker but I’ve got brain worms over him #Cw: blood #tw: blood

[bylertruther]

when will said it was "strange knowing who it was this whole time" and "he's hurt, he's hurting, but he's still alive" was he not talking about henry? am i insane? did i misinterpret that scene? why are we acting like will is connected to anyone other than henry bro what is Happening 😭

that was henry that shaped the mind flayer into that spider-like form and it was henry that used it to possess will and it was henry's thoughts that will was experiencing against his will and it's henry that he's still feeling because the connection/"vecna's curse" hasn't been broken. they physically extracted the mind flayer from will's body, yes, but his connection to henry was never broken. henry can't exercise complete and total control over people without the mind flayer's power, which is why will has free will over his body but his mind remains connected to henry.

the characters, and by extension the viewers, thought it was the mind flayer behind everything, because they didn't know what season four revealed to us.

henry wanted to control will's mind and body—a complete and entire violation of everything will is. that was Not the mind flayer, and they tell us that more than once. with all love and respect what are some of you on about because you're starting to make me feel like my memory is genuinely broken or something lmao like i thought.... the big reveal was that it's always been henry? they literally say that? eleven, henry, and will all confirm it? the mind flayer was not a separate entity acting alone... thus will has beef with henry most of all because henry's violation of his mind and body is still ongoing... Where Are You Guys Getting Your Information From 😭 hELP

will's rape—because that's what possession is, he never consented to having his mind and body controlled by anyone else—is an important part of stranger things; both to the general plot and will's character. to say that will only has beef with the mind flayer and not henry is reducing what henry did to him and reassigning blame that very much falls on henry's shoulders. henry was controlling the mind flayer and henry is the one still in will's mind. henry used the mind flayer to have control over will. henry and will are connected. the show literally tells us that over and over again. when you decide to needlessly reassign blame, not only are you misunderstanding and misconstruing the plot, but you're also... not understanding what happened to will at all. like, what really happened to him and how that's used in the show.

henry very likely was the one that kidnapped will. henry is the one that will has a psychic connection to. henry is the one that raped will / possessed him if you prefer that term instead and used the mind flayer to do it. henry is the one that will still knows like the back of his hand, because henry is the one that's still in his head. it's not the mind flayer. it's henry. please stop saying that will doesn't have more than enough reason to want to kill his ass. please!!!

#rape tw #rape mention #triggering myself on main like a fucking dumbass but the worms in my brain are holding on to this one n gnawing at it #am i insane am i genuinely having memory problems am i the weird one #eleven and will can both kill his ass but don't act like henry isn't the one that ruined his life i'm— #i feel very strongly abt this bc i just feel like you Can't reassign blame in rape cases u have to see it for what it is #they're literally fake but. please don't try to absolve bad people like that #they're characters not people i know but. please don't do that lol. henry is a bad guy for many reasons and eleven and will BOTH have #reasons to merc his ass. we can say that it's okay we're not taking anything away from eleven by acknowledging the plot and the #actions that the characters have made like i promise u no one is forgetting eleven who is literally the biggest character on the show #it doesn't matter but also it Does matter to me bc we don't always see rape victims on tv shows or movies that are treated like will #and it just makes me sad when like. stuff that happens in real life (abusers getting off scot free) happens in fiction. bc its like ok cool #not even in the fictional world can there be justice huh lmao cool cool cool very cool and awesome and great love it #actually no im gonna say it bro yes henry tried to kill eleven twice but like. he literally raped will. so yeah i think will deserves the #final blow bro idc. idc idc idc will has to live with that for the rest of his life he has to remember what it felt like and what all he #did under henry's control like. he deserves it. let him maul his ass let him fireball him to the pits of hell idc idc everyone else go home

[wander-wren]

i’m on my third rewatch of tristamp and HUNGRY! (ep4) as an episode is so so special to me. i love it so much.

first of all if you know me in any capacity you’ll understand that i am so. ack. about the inclusion of vash’s food issues as a part of the episode’s arc and not just a one-off line. we see it again in ep8. both times he refuses to eat after a disaster that nai caused (but he blames himself for). but! in episode 8 he only eats again after saving lives/proving himself useful, whereas in episode 4 he eats because wolfwood said he deserves to. indirectly. he doesn’t save anyone. he tries! he’s doing his best! but in the end it’s wolfwood who does all the work. and vash still eats. ack

but yeah i fully believe that comment to zazie, “no matter how heavy the cross is you carry, you deserve to eat. and to laugh!” is why vash later said wolfwood has “the eyes of a good guy.”

(and hey, i do think there’s some significance to him defending wolfwood specifically in the context of wolfwood offering vash food and roberto accusing him of poisoning it. just saying.)

first, the way wolfwood phrases that (especially since right before, he said to zazie “i’m like you”) makes it seem like he knows what it is to carry a (metaphorical) cross, and to feel like you don’t deserve things. so vash feels a kinship with him and admires that he’s apparently overcome that and is trying to help zazie do the same.

(now, we find out later that wolfwood already knows zazie, but i’m working with the assumption that he didn’t realize it was her yet. correct me if im wrong on that. if i am wrong i’ll be sad bc i’ll have to reevaluate a lot :(()

second, it definitely matches up with things rem and luida said about food, which boils down to “whether you choose to eat it or not it still matters that you get it, that you have that choice.” which, uh. we’re gonna unpack my own feelings on that at a later time, possibly never. but that definitely would help vash to see wolfwood as trustworthy/good.

to be clear, vash isn’t naive. from their limited interactions he can see wolfwood has some darkness to him, and he can see that he’s used to being disliked, distrusted. he doesn’t bat an eye at meryl and roberto questioning him, but he does react to vash calling him good. vash has had 150+ years to get good at reading people. wolfwood even calls him out about turning his back multiple times, calling him stupid, but rhen he proves vash right by not hurting him.

of course, there’s another layer to the whole eating thing, which is that vash might not need to eat? it’s implied that he likes food/eating in flashbacks, and we learn later that he isn’t a defective plant, he can generate things (in a way), so it would follow that he doesn’t need food??

which might seem, initially, like it lessens the impact of his disordered eating. but it doesn’t. first of all, it’s still a thing vash takes pleasure in, which he has very little of, so denying himself food as punishment is still Very Bad. but also…it’s kind of the only effective form of self-harm he has. he heals quickly and has an insane pain tolerance, and he has literally nothing to lose because he doesn’t have anything/anyone to start with. maybe he won’t starve, but that’s not the point.

#trigun stampede #trigun stampede spoilers #tristamp #vash the stampede #tw ed descussion #wren wrambles #yall dont even know how much it fuckin meant to me when they had vash eat at the end of the episode #and it wasnt a big deal but Attention Was Called #its a thing!! it’s important!! fuck!! #vash and i have very different issues but shit dude #and then in episode 8…..yeah it just i have Feelings #HUNGRY! is my favorite episode for reasons other than this #namely we meet wolfwood and zazie #who i love dearly #and we spend most of the episode IN A GIANT SAND WORM which is so fun and cool #but yeah this is also a big reason #also i think the title is silly

[triguntummy]

More woowoo stuffing thoughs: So we know that StampWW will just chomp on some worms simply bc he can. I imagine he also does it just to piss Meryl off. So there's a large group of worms just flying about, and he's eating without a care in the world. The gang are passing through, Meryl is not happy about it, but ww is having the time of his life. Until about the 25th worm he's been mindlessly eating...... He then realizes his belly is sticking out of his shirt a bit, and he's been panting. Vash's eyes have been glued to his gut since the beginning. Meryl now notices and start teasing the hell out of him. Poking, prodding the whole 9 yards. Vash is also struggling to not put his hands on ww. So instead he just offers him another worm, and who can really say no to vash's pleading face?

#This is to say that they end up fucking on a random rock with the worms as there audience. Zazie is not having a good time. #Although they will never let ww live it down. Brings it up at every opportunity. We will never look at worms the same way again. #This also probably starts a whole feeding thing between the three of them. So one of the only ways to shut bratty ww us is to stuff him so #It's pretty effective when they want some peace. #Trigun stuffing #Wolfwood stuffing #Idk how to tag stuffing #Tw worms #Tw bugs #Ask for more tw if necessary #ash rants to the void