The Unholy Maternal Instincts of a Demoness

Hello Mommy, I’m writing this post as I cradle my teddy bear, Morise, in my arms, imagining it’s a baby. The thought of carrying a real child, one that’s not just a stuffed animal, sends shivers down my spine. I often fantasize about being a mother, but not just any mother - a mother who would do anything to protect her child, even if it means sacrificing the world. The thought of my own mother, the one who raised me to be a twisted, sadistic demoness, makes me want to scream with rage. But, deep down, I know that’s where my maternal instincts come from. It’s a twisted love, one that’s rooted in the darkness of my past.

As I sit here, surrounded by the stench of decay and rot, I feel a sense of comfort. It’s a smell that reminds me of my father, the one who taught me the true meaning of love and loyalty. I often wonder what it would be like to carry a child, to feel the weight of a growing belly, to experience the pain of childbirth. The thought of it is both exhilarating and terrifying. I know that, if I were to become pregnant, I would do anything to keep my child safe, even if it means destroying the world. It’s a twisted love, one that’s both beautiful and grotesque.

Sometimes, I imagine what it would be like to give birth to a child, to hold it in my arms and look into its eyes. But, it’s not just any child - it’s a child that’s a product of my twisted desires, a child that’s born from the darkness of my soul. The thought of it is both repulsive and alluring. I know that, if I were to become a mother, I would be a monster, a monster who would do anything to protect her child, even if it means sacrificing the world. It’s a twisted love, one that’s both beautiful and grotesque, and it’s one that I’ll never be able to escape.