#vanilla

@thesave-frisk - FINISH !! :)

Here is Libra !! Onlychild of VanillaxYing (onlychild because he killed his twin brother)

°•Ship fanon•°

Vanilla - mine

Ying - thesave-frisk

@birthedstars

“Good. Good, you’re doing great Maya. Just one more push,” Selina held the baby’s head as the new mother bore down hard.

The mothers stomach squeezed down hard with her push and the shoulders spread her wide. The mother screamed and moaned right as the shoulders burst from her, the baby sliding out into the doctor’s arms. The nurse beside Selina called out the time of birth and Selina gave the mother their crying baby.

Selina huffed as she stood up, her own heavily pregnant belly swaying in front of her. It was always a joy to see the mother embrace her hard fought fruits of labor. A nurse ran into the room frantically, interrupting Selina’s musing.

“Dr. Mason! Mrs. Klein has been demanding to see you for the past 10 minutes,” the nurse said.  

Selina sighed and waddled her way out of the room, leaving the mother with some of the other nurses. Selina walked past a wide window on the floor and out of the corner of her eye she saw the rush of ambulances pulling into the hospital.

The hospital was a whirlwind of activity. The lot was filled to the brim with emergency vehicles. EMT’s, nurses and doctors were rushing in and out of the main hospital.

Selina only took a moment to observe the scene from her spot in the maternity ward building. It was pure chaos. A natural disaster would do that though. An absurd earthquake only a mere hour ago downed an entire Highway bridge. The hospital she worked at was just at the edge of the worst of the quake, making it the closest hospital for critical condition patients. Considering her own condition, she was the only doctor in the ward and minimal nurses were assigned to the area right now.

Selina rubbed her stomach as a slight contraction ran through it. Her belly hung low, barely being covered by her oversized scrubs. She was 38 weeks pregnant with triplets -which was extremely overdue. She was really low risk for a triplet pregnancy and she was scheduled for induction tomorrow, so she was just fine in her mind. Her husband, a doctor in the ER, was pretty vocal with his objections to her coming to the hospital though, thinking the stress might set her off or harm the babies. But what else was she supposed to do in a situation like this? Let these laboring patients go it alone with limited help. She couldn’t let that happen.

Selina walked into the room where Mrs. Klein was in labor. Klein was an extremely affluent businesswoman and she held herself as such even in labor. The woman had her hair styled in an orderly bun and a slight bit of makeup on her face. Her husband, who had been no more than a wallflower since they got his wife to the room, carefully dabbed her forehead with a towel.

“Well there you are! Took you long enough to get here!” Mrs. Klein said, brushing her husband away.

“There were other patients I had to attend to, Mrs. Klein,” Selina rolled her eyes. “What is it that you need me for?”

Mrs. Klein rubbed her swollen stomach. “I have been in labor for far too long. I have a flight tomorrow morning and I don’t wish to be in labor all day.”

Selina sighed. She had no idea how to explain to this woman that babies came in their own time, even with medical intervention. Mostly because she’d told her twice already in the relatively short time she was here. Selina felt a cramp circulate through her stomach and lower back as she pondered her response.

“The nurse said I am 5 centimeters dilated, surely you can break my water and speed things up?” Mrs. Klein continued.

“Uhm, yes we - oooh - could, however that would rapidly increase the speed of your labor and the pain,” Selina said, rubbing the underside of her own heavy swell.

“Then do it and get me an epidural! That would be the perfect scenario!”

Selina waved over one of the nurses with her freehand and gave them the all clear to break her water as well as prepare an epidural. The tightening in her stomach persisted and intensified as she quickly shuffled out the door. Selina dodged nurses rushing through the halls and quickly dipped into a nearby employee bathroom. She allowed herself to let out a moan. The babies felt so low and heavy. She already carried low throughout her pregnancy, but the weight on her pelvis felt so much bigger now.

Selina bent forward to put both hands on the sink and let her belly hang under her. Her breathing quivered, trying to keep her composure. She lifted her shirt to examine her belly.

If any of the nurses saw it, they’d likely drag her onto a birth bed. The contractions and amount of babies made her belly oblong and torpedo shaped. It had long red tiger stripes for stretch marks scattered around the middle. Her belly button, that used to point straight out earlier in pregnancy, was a huge point that now angled downwards with the rest of her bump. Selina couldn’t fit the belly support band she’d bought anymore, so now the underside of her belly had grooves from the textured band of her scrubs engraved in it.

This wasn’t her first contraction of the day or even her second. She woke up in the wee hours of the morning to her stomach being a hard ball. It happened twice before the accident and right after she argued with her husband about going to the ward to help. The day before, Selina had been having more consistent contractions as well, but this was the first time the pain was becoming more intense.

“Fooo, babies please, you have to wait for mommy to finish working,” The contraction started to ease. “After I’m done, you can come out. We’ll have a nice room for you.”

Selina pushed herself off the sink, put her shirt down and started waddling out the door with one hand on the small of her back and the other under her lowering bump. The halls were still bustling with activity.

“Doctor Mason!” A nurse’s voice came to her ear. “We need your assistance!”

Selina sighed. Today was going to be a long day.  

~ 4 hours later ~

Selina should’ve denied working today. It was too much. Too long. Selina leant her full weight on the back of the toilet seat while her baby filled belly contracted and rocked her hips. The pressure had increased tenfold within the last few hours. She felt like her pussy could be filled with a baby any minute.  For the past few hours she’d quickly migrated from one birthing mother to another. Bending between their legs, waddling down the halls to their rooms, you name it. The more she moved the further her own labor progressed.

Her stomach was so low that she couldn’t even properly check herself anymore. At the very least, her waters had yet to break. But that wasn’t much insurance.

“Doctor Mason! I’m sorry, but we need assistance immediately!” A nurse shouted into the bathroom.

Selina sighed in exasperation. “Alright, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Selina heaved herself up off of the toilet and felt the full weight of her babies low in her pelvis. Selina groaned and waddled as fast as she could outside of the bathroom. If anyone had been watching her closely these past few hours they would have noticed that her gait had widened substantially.

The ward was still bustling with an activity that only being understaffed could provide, but the nurses had gotten a lot more efficient.

Selina followed the nurse who called her with a hand on the small of her back and the other under her belly. She did her best not to stop and moan since walking made it feel like she was driving her first baby lower and lower.

The Nurse entered the room and Selina trailed in to see a younger woman in a college hoodie along with a young man in a Letterman’s jacket holding her hand. Her bottom half was already exposed and the hoodie was hiked up over the girl’s huge swell of the stomach.

“I can’t have the baby now! Not now please!” The girl screamed.

“How long have you been in labor?” Selina asked as she put on the gloves and got between her legs.

“It’s only been 2 hours!”

Selina cursed under her breath. The young woman was 9 centimeters dilated and quickly transitioning to 10. A first time mom experiencing a rapid labor wasn’t an ordeal she needed right this moment. Selina’s stomach contracted hard underneath her scrubs as if to remind her of her own crisis. The head of her first baby was sitting extremely low in her pelvis, basically knocking on her cervix. The pressure made her squat slightly before she stopped herself.

“No! I can’t push. I can’t. Not now,” Selina thought. Pushing would just send her into further labor.

The college student’s breath slowed as the contraction ebbed away for a moment only for her to start moaning anew after a few seconds.

“Oh god I can feel the head!” The student howled, clutching her stomach.

“It’s going to be ok, what’s your name?” Selina asked through the pressure of her body.

“Bella,” She managed to growl out.

“Ok Bella, when you feel your next contraction, you have to push.” Selina instructed then turned to the nurse and the other student. “Pull her legs back as far as they can go.”

Bella groaned as her stomach started to spasm with a contraction and she did as Selina instructed. The nurse and the student pushed Bella’s legs back. Bella bore down and her stomach squeezed.

Selina saw the head of the baby quickly begin to spread its mothers lips at the base. Somehow the view made the pressure in Selina’s bottom and her back worse. Just seeing it made her want to give in to her own desire to push when her next contraction came.

Selina moaned under Bella’s grunting. She kept her hands around the speedily bulging lips of Bella’s vagina.

“It fucking burns! It burns!” Bella screamed hoarsely while pushing.

Her lips opened easier than Selina expected. The head came into a full crown quickly and then immediately fell into Selina’s gloved palms along a sizable gush of fluid.

“Keep pushing!” Selina instructed.

Bella continued to bear down and holler. Her stretched stomach squeezed the harder she pushed. The shoulders of the baby opened the young students’ crotch once more. Bella’s face was red with effort. Selina held the baby up as it started to slide out the woman’s lips and then with another spray of fluid, the baby came completely free of its mothers canal.

Bella gasped and cried as she felt her baby be born. Selina quickly brought the child up to its mothers chest.

“Oh my baby, my baby!” Bella cried out at the same time her baby started to wail. Even the young man who was with her started to get teary eyed.

Selina let out a sigh of relief. Rapid births can usually go wrong fast, but she was lucky. Suddenly a tightening sensation sprawled across her own mountainous belly. The bodies of her babies felt like they were all driving downwards, just threatening to break her waters against her dilating canal. Selina did everything she could not to moan out loud with the increasing pain and pressure.

“Just a few more hours, babies. Please, wait until daddy and I end our shifts.” Selina silently begged while rubbing her belly.

Suddenly, another Nurse ran into the room looking frantic.

“Doctor Mason, I need you you in Mrs. Klein’s room!” The nurse said dashing off.

Selina sighed tiredly and groaned through the contraction as she followed behind the nurse. Selina felt so much heavier in her bottom. The pressure was starting to drive her insane. She wanted to break her waters, she wanted to push, she wanted some kind of relief for the pain. The underside of her belly had dropped so much that it had begun to poke out from the bottom of her shirt.

She entered the hall with her ever widening waddle to Mrs.Klein’s room.

Selina walked in to see Mrs.Klein looking completely disheveled. Hair was matted to her face, her hands gripped the rails of the bed with white knuckles and sweat poured off her body. The head of her baby was almost out of her labor worn vagina.

2 hours ago when she found out the epidural had slowed her labor, she demanded that they’d turn it off and of course she ignored Selina’s warnings about the pain of labor increasing.

“What’s wrong?” Selina asked, getting a good look at Mrs. Klein’s crotch.

“The baby won’t come out you damn incompetent!” Mrs. Klein shouted with a rough cry. The back arching contraction intensified

Selina ignored her insult, and studied the situation. She put her fingers into Klein’s spread lips and was met with the hard surface of the shoulders. Selina understood immediately. Shoulder dystocia. The baby wouldn’t have a chance of moving without intervention.

“Get this baby out of me Doctor!” Mrs. Klein screamed.

“ok, you need to get on all fours. One knee and one foot on the bed,” Selina turned to the amateur nurse and Mrs. Klein’s husband. “ Help her get into that position.

The nurse and Mr. Klein scrambled to Mrs. Klein’s to get her propped up. This position was known to work for dystocia in the past.

Mrs. Klein’s legs quivered in the position trying to support her weight. Selina felt around the head and to the shoulders once more. There was a bit more space for her to adjust the shoulders herself.

"Ok, next contraction, push,” Selina instructed.

“It fucking hurts!” Klein threw her head back, screamed and then pushed.

Selina felt the first shoulder become dislodged from where it was stuck. The second came pretty close after. Mrs. Klein continued to push and shriek her baby out now that she could feel progress being made.

Once again, Selina desired that. She felt her own knees start to bend in a squat almost instinctively. The pressure within her was mounting again, like her body was reacting to her wanting to get her babies out.

“You - ooooough - You’re doing great, Mrs. Klein,” Selina said as the baby’s head freed itself.

Mrs. Klein wasn’t listening however. Her face was buried into the pillows as she bore down on her baby. The shoulders finally free, slid out of her battered hole and into Selina’s hands. Selina quickly passed the newborn off to the nurse, feeling the contraction within her grow stronger.

Mr. Klein worked to help Mrs. Klein lay back down comfortably. She gasped, hair and makeup scattered every  which way on her face.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Mrs. Klein said with a tired smile as the nurse handed her her newborn.

Selina had barely registered the thanks and only gave an affirming nod as she rushed herself out of the room with both of her hands under her belly.

She felt like her bottom was about to explode. Selina waddled as fast as she could to the bathroom, praying to god no one would stop her. She could almost feel the viscous sack of her waters bulging through her cervix. Her body was painfully teasing her with the idea of her babies coming out.

The contraction got even harder somehow, causing her legs to give a little and make hold on to the handrail embedded on the wall.

“So low, so low…holy shit,” Selina thought, gripping the side rail and her extremely tight belly.

Then Selina heard a young woman scream from nearby.

“Something is wrong! It hurts too much! I feel like I have to push!”

Selina recognized the scream as Bella’s. What the hell was going on? Selina followed the screams back to Bella’s room and entered to see the young mother digging her nails into her bump.

“Oh thank goodness you’re here,” the nurse tending to Bella said. “I don’t know what’s going on!”

“Mmf, ok, let me see,” Selina already had an idea of what was going on given the state the student was in when she arrived. She put her gloved fingers into the students already canal and felt a

“It looks like you’re giving your baby a twin tonight!” Selina said.

“T-twin???” Bella said between labored breaths.

“You have to push now!”

Bella did as she was told. Her stomach lurched forward as she strained to get her surprise out of her pussy. The baby progressed as fast as its sibling. The head started to bulge the base of Bella’s vagina and up to her clit.

Selina couldn’t help but crave doing that now. Just pushing her babies out of her. Relieving the pressure. Getting rid of the pain. A contraction seized her belly. Selina unconsciously bore down a little with Bella. She slightly gasped in surprise as she felt something move downward to edge out of her cervix. Then she felt a bit of moisture.

“Oh no, oh no, no, no, no.” Selina thought.

Bella let out a high pitched scream as her baby came to a full crown and quickly shot from her vaginal lips. Selina barely registered the speedily moving baby she was supposed to be supporting. She could feel herself involuntarily lowering as the thing in her cervix pressed out more and more.

Selina absentmindedly checked for a cord and gave Bella the ok to push again as if she had stopped. The shoulders of the baby came easily and the surprise baby fell into Selina’s waiting hands. Just like its sibling, it started to cry immediately.

Selina quickly brought the child up to its mother who could only look at the baby with shock and tears.

Selina couldn’t muster a word of congratulations. The pressure was building even more. It felt as though something was trying to fall out of her. The first baby was so close to moving into her cervix at this rate.

Selina felt the eyes of the Nurse tending to Bella and the young man on her. Selina didn’t realize that they’d been looking at her strangely since she walked in. Nor did she realize the growing splotch of wetness form on the crotch of her pants. She gathered up the already amniotic fluid stained sheets in one palm as her stomach compressed harder and harder under the other.

“Doctor Mason…are you in la-” the Nurse started to ask.

“N-no, I’m fine, just a Braxton hic-”

Then, the pressure peaked within Selina and she finally felt a release. Fluid splashed through her scrubs and the head of her first baby pressed hard on her cervix. Selina’s knees quivered and gave into the pressure. Her knees fell into the liquid and her belly grazed the floor.

The nurse and the young man looked at the fluid and Selina’s soiled pants in shock.

“I…I think I need to get in one of those beds now…” Selina said, just as the first baby’s head started pressing hard on her canal.

Guess her extra shift ends early today.

[Pill here, finally back with a second, more substantial story. I have two additional chapters of similar length to this one planned, but they may take a while to finish. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this first chapter. Please note that CCEL is primarily Mpreg, as it follows two male main characters, and merely has some Fpreg on the side.]

—

Chapter 1| Siege From Inside

King Emil Florian Daybreaker focused his superhumanly sharp eyes on the large, perfectly round moon in the night sky as crimson light bled slowly across its rocky, white surface. Swelling from the top right, the light dripped into the craters and thoroughly filled the great sphere until it was completely red. And, bathed under its radiance, so too was the city of Gravelveil.

The stone walkway atop the outer wall was dyed the color of wine. Armor clinking about as they ran, Emil’s soldiers seemed as if they had been painted with blood, though none had yet fought that day.

Despite that Emil’s inhuman ears picked up his footsteps from the bottom of the stairs below, the messenger huffed all the way to the top and to his king’s side before speaking. “Your Highn-, I’m sorry, Your Majesty, it is as you feared.”

Continuing to stare at the moon, Emil nodded. “A slaughter then?”

“Yes, Sire,” he said. “Captain of our guard, dead in his bed with a sword through the chest. Our finest mages, torn asunder in their own study. The kingdom’s most valuable and forbidden grimoires, gone—burned in a great pyre in the eastern courtyard. Empty bottles of poison carelessly discarded inside the door of our largest granary. Quite thoroughly have we been betrayed, I’m afraid.”

I shouldn’t be surprised, Emil thought. Honestly, I should have had the foresight to stop him.

For years, Emil knew this day would come. Perhaps not this day exactly, but one like it, where that fool finally gave himself fully to temptation and betrayed his kingdom. Emil admitted, however, that he had expected something a tad more subtle. A handful human sacrifices, perhaps. Few enough to count on one’s fingers. Not the hundreds of thousands that lived in Gravelveil and its surrounding towns.

“Fetch Drogo,” Emil commanded. “As I now am king, he now is captain of my guard.”

“Lord Drogo has already gone to take charge at the northern gate,” the messenger said. “I was told to inform you he would order the soldiers there to move, then jump to meet you here.”

Emil nodded. In other words, he’d land at this side of the wall any second. Always, Emil was in awe of his friend’s Prowess.

Most noblemen, and even some peasants, were born with remnants of the ancient magic on which their world was founded. ‘Prowesses’ that let them defy the mundane binds of simple mortality, each unique to the user’s spirit.

Emil’s Prowess let him increase his senses. When concentrating, he could see in the near pitch black of a moonless night as easily as daylight, hear the skitter of a mouse blocks away, and smell supposedly odorless poison in a cup across the castle’s longest dining table. He could feel every fiber in the sleek, tight, finely tailored suit he wore, the beating of his own heart, and even the precise flow of the blood in his veins by the minuscule vibrations it made. With a lifetime of training, he easily controlled the sensory overload of the footsteps around him ringing like thunderclaps, and the chill breeze raking its frozen claws across his exposed, sensitive face, and other such bothersome things. Most of the time. Unless they surprised him. Handy, yes—few could eavesdrop like Emil. Great for a freshly crowned king who needed to know much about his kingdom to rule it. But nothing flashy. Not like Drogo’s Prowess.

Looking out over the city, Emil watched as something dark flew from the northern gate, high over the peaks of the tallest buildings, directly toward him. Drogo Steelblade, hurtling in boots first, hit the very outer lip of the wall like a meteor, sending bits of stone crumbling to the dusty ground outside the city. Heavy fur cloak fluttering as easily as silk as he flailed his arms for balance, he stopped himself from toppling over with the stones and stepped down from the lip, sighing. “Awful night. The stress nearly caused me to miss my trajectory.”

Dismissing the messenger, Emil smiled. “I’m relieved to see you at least in one piece.”

Drogo nodded, smiling himself. “And you, Emil—crowned king!” He pat his friend on the back. Felt like a whack with a cane to Emil’s sensitive skin, but he never minded enough to turn his Prowess down. “Glad to finally be in charge?”

“Not as glad as I’d have been if I were crowned after my father had simply stumbled into an unfortunate ‘accident’ at the whims of one of his many enemies,” he sighed. “But yes.”

Smile fading, Drogo clapped his friend on the shoulder. “We can fight them. We can still save this kingdom.”

As much as I appreciate your enthusiasm, Emil thought. I’m not sure we can.

Standing atop the wall, the two stared across the crimson dusts surrounding the city at the dark blotch forming on the horizon. With Emil’s eyesight, he could make out the army in some detail. They wore no armor. No weapons. Rather, they wore not much in the way of clothing at all. Their fashion was little more than leather straps and scraps of silk. Terrible horns like those of beasts sprouted from between the locks of their light red hair—possibly white under the sun—twisting in all sorts of strange shapes. They did not break their advance to camp. They believed the city to already be theirs, and so marched promptly toward it. Before now, Emil never had the gall or misfortune to have seen one in person, let alone thousands, but he recognized the creatures easily from the dozens of books he’d read about them.

Demons. A demon army at his doorstep.

“Are they heavily armed?” Drogo asked.

Emil frowned. “Were they human, I’d have laughed and said no, not at all. I can’t spot a bit of steel between them, besides the buckles of a belt or two. Yet they march with confidence. They even march with women among their ranks.” Taking a closer look, Emil spotted numerous demon women with swollen, rounded bellies, bellybuttons popped and poking out, exposed in full by their lack of clothes. Blushing redder than the moonlight, he felt blood gather in his cheeks, and other unwanted places. “S-some are heavy with child. I think they expect to take the city completely without resistance.”

“Tch.” Drogo glared at what must be nothing but a distant blob to his eyes. “They mock us.”

“They have a right to mock us, Drogo—they are demons.”

“We can stop them. Kill the men for taking us so lightly. The women will retreat once they see our defenses are not lowered.”

“They’ve magic directly from the First Demon Goddess, Hazaelia,” Emil reminded him, intensely feeling every bead of sweat forming across his brow. “The women will attack from afar with powerful Prowesses. This is what our mages and our grimoires were for. Without them-“

“Dusty old men with dusty old books,” he scoffed. Drogo turned, strode across the walkway, and leaped from the edge, falling slowly and landing unharmed from the hundred foot drop. That was Drogo’s Prowess: the power to control the ground’s pull on his body. At his will, he could be light as a feather, or heavy as a boulder.

Or heavy as a demoness carrying an enormous litter of imps. Perhaps they all could lessen the ground’s pull. Emil had a hard time imagining himself married one day, but, when his kingdom eventually demanded he take a bride, he was certain he would never dare order her to march any distance in such a condition. But demon culture was different than human culture, and unknown to Emil. Perhaps, to them, the order was acceptable.

Drogo stared up at Emil and spoke normally, knowing the king could hear him. “Come. The people are in a panic. You should give a speech to calm them.”

Nodding, Emil made his way down from the wall.

…

With a procession of one hundred guards, Emil and Drogo marched to the city square. Drogo put on a brave face for his men, but Emil could see he was anxious. Afraid. Biting his lip, looking sick, cloak pulled around him as he fidgeted beneath it. Emil couldn’t blame him. The situation was dire, and Emil would probably have fidgeted just the same if his mannerisms were not being closely monitored by the crowds to either side of the street. They needed a strong, confident, fearless king, now more than ever. He made an effort to stand even straighter, head held even higher.

While listening to the whispers of the crowd, Emil’s ears caught a cry of pain. Turning to peek over the heads of the bystanders and down an alley, he spotted a woman bent over, holding her gravid belly as she labored. Why there? Perhaps she was out for a walk when the stress of the situation pushed her into labor, and now she struggled to stumble home through the busy streets to give birth.

Emil caught the ear of his closest guard. “There is a woman in labor down that alley. Please see that she gets home safely and finds the care she needs.”

The man was shocked, but nodded and broke off from his procession.

…

The square was packed tight with bodies. Thousands of noblemen, workers, and even beggars awaited Emil’s speech, panicked voices forming an orchestra beneath the crimson moon. Somehow, Emil’s procession cleared a path to the hardwood stage in the center, surrounding it and allowing Emil to take the podium.

At his side, Drogo held both hands clasped in front of his stomach in an effort to not fidget openly.

Adjusting the thin, gold crown atop his head, Emil examined the worried faces of his people before clearing his throat to speak. “I am King Emil Florian Daybreaker. Just this evening, in a haphazard rush, I was crowned. Your rumors have reached me—many saw the palace in a panic and assumed my father dead. I regret to inform you that this is not the case. Your previous king yet lives. My sincerest apologies for breaking tradition and taking the crown early. And even greater apologies for the stir I am about to cause by admitting to you the truth of the matter.” Emil took a deep breath. “In exchange for immortality, Gravelveil has been sold to a Demon Goddess of Lust.”

Sounds of worry rippled through the crowd. Gasps, prayers, curses, groans, and… moans?

Drogo grimaced at him.

Emil continued. “Think ill of me for disturbing your nights with knowledge if you must, but you all can clearly see the state of the moon,” he said, pointing skyward. “That bloodstained abomination is demon magic. It is meant to cripple our morale as the demoness’ army approaches. And, thanks to my father, we are without most of the men and defenses we would have used to fight off such a spell. Wishing my potentially short rule to be an honest one, I will admit to you this: Gravelveil may fall.

“But, do not fear for your lives. This is a Demon Goddess of Lust, not of Wrath, of Greed, or of Pride. It is unlikely her army comes to kill. I have seen for myself that they are not armed with swords or spears. Should they breach our walls, I doubt they shall stage any slaughter. Of course, we have not yet given up. If the fine soldiers of our city can yet send them away, we shall! The best you all can do for your home is remain calm!” Emil clenched a fist and thumped it to his chest, rattling his bones though the intensity of his Prowess. “Remain strong, and together we shall weather this storm!”

The sounds of the crowd changed such that at least some of them must have been reassured. Emil stepped off stage, having done his best. A carriage was brought. He climbed inside, taking a seat on the plush bench within.

Joining him, Drogo became weightless and sat on the carriage’s ceiling, upside down, cloak wrapped around him, like a bat hanging from the roof of a cave. “Gravelveil may fall?”

Emil squinted. “You don’t believe it might?”

“I believe it so unlikely as to not be worth a warning.”

“If I did not warn them, and the city fell, they might have come to think I sent for the army, to chase away my father and take his kingdom. I cannot have my people refuse to trust me in our most trying time.”

“They will not take the city. You said yourself, they approach without weapons!”

“Because they are confident we will fall without fighting!”

“Arrogant,” he snapped.

“No,” Emil said. “Powerful. I claimed the moon was turned red to kill our morale, but it possibly has a greater purpose. Perhaps it magically weakens us.”

Drogo grit his teeth, looking uncomfortable. For whatever reason, he seemed to agree with Emil’s theory.

Abruptly, the carriage stopped. Catching up with it, another messenger opened the door and bowed to Emil before speaking. “Y-your Majesty. An, um… an emergency is… occurring.”

Frowning at him, Emil concentrated. In the distance, there was screaming. Over what, he couldn’t tell. “What’s happened? Speak, soldier.”

Sweating, the man cleared his throat and looked away in shame. “Uh… Women are giving birth, Sire.”

Emil raised an eyebrow. “… Yes… That is… a thing women do sometimes.”

“No, Your Majesty, I don’t mean natural births,” he clarified. “Around the city, thousands of them are starting to just… swell up. Filling with children, since the moon’s been red. They just…” He tried to explain with his hands, spreading his fingers like a loaf of bread rising in the oven. “They just expand. I-I seen it.”

Stunned silent, Emil turned to Drogo. The guard captain was pale as a sheet, staring back with the same look of confused concern.

“Show me,” Emil told the messenger.

Leaping from the carriage, Emil and Drogo, accompanied by their guards, followed the man toward a large source of the screaming. One of the city’s wider streets had been commandeered, traffic blocked by wooden signs dragged from shops. People were frantically laying hundreds of blankets across the cobblestones, and on top of them hundreds of women, their bellies burgeoning with life. From workers’ wives, with their tunics and trousers split around their filling wombs, to noblewomen, with their beautiful ball gowns torn open along the seems. Swollen, leaking breasts spilled out of low-necked and broken-buttoned shirts. More and more women flooded the street, helped along by terrified husbands and brothers as Emil watched, dumbfounded.

He could hear and see it all much too vividly. Their guttural moans of pleasure and pain. The focused, or glazed, looks in their eyes as they either tried very hard to stay strong, or simply let the sensations take them. The heat of their ragged breathing. The way their skin stretched tight as a drum, tearing just a little with long, pinkish stretch marks. The way their lower lips bulged and split around the heads of tiny demon creatures.

Gods, what must that be like? Emil wondered, trying to maintain a calm posture despite the mayhem. Horrifying, losing control of one’s body to demons who think incubation a better use for it. These poor girls. I cannot imagine feeling so… vulnerable. And full. The… sexual nature of the situation was causing an awful rush of blood to places it very much should not be right now, forcing Emil to dampen his Prowess in order to think.

Beside him, Drogo watched the scene, jaw locked with frustration and cloak pulled around himself again.

The messenger swallowed, rubbing his own pudgy stomach in sympathy. “Your Majesty, what ought we do?”

Emil thought. Waving his arms to gather the attention of the guards and those tending the women, he began barking orders. “This curse is caused by the crimson moonlight! Get the women inside! Into houses and shops, anything will do, and board the windows! Bring them water, and cage the offspring!”

Most took his orders and began helping their wives and sisters inside.

Gasping as a small demon scampered by and knocked into his legs, Emil frowned.

“There are too many!” a guard called, carrying eight demons in his arms, and chasing twelve more down the road.

Drogo groaned. “What in the name of the old gods are we to do about this?”

Emil shook his head. “Nothing. I fear that’s the point. The Demoness intends to torture half our city until we open its gates for her.”

“Our whole city, actually,” said another voice.

Emil turned and spotted a familiar mustached nobleman and his son weaving their way through the crowd. He’d met the two at many a ball, and the older man’s input was generally wise. Excellent timing. “Ah. Lord Belamy. What of-“ He stopped, blinking as he truly looked at them for the first time.

Young Belamy, a lad of eighteen—and Emil had been sure a moment ago that he was in fact a lad—struggled for breath as he hauled a hanging, heavy belly almost larger than the rest of his body, barely keeping up with his father. His distended, red bellybutton nearly scraped the cobblestones. Lord Belamy too was swollen, the buttons of his suit broken around a new paunch. Earlier that week, at the most recent ball, his abs had been flat.

Unable to process what he was seeing, Emil simply stared. “The magic of a demon goddess! Ah, what a wonder,” Lord Belamy laughed, giving his belly a slap. “Seems it needs not a natural womb to burrow in. Any port in a storm, as they say. Fascinating. And uncomfortable. I wonder if you yet might be spared, Your Highness. Pardon—Your Majesty. Perhaps if we all survive with our senses about us, I’ll grow used to that.”

“Y-… You… ah…” Emil swallowed. “You’re… pregnant.”

“Not as much so as my son,” he said, patting the poor lad on the shoulder. “Over a hearty dinner, he suddenly complained of feeling quite full. And, well… simply continued getting fuller.”

Young Belamy moaned, barely supporting himself. With his Prowess, Emil could hear five or six imps squirming inside him. “I’m so heavy… Gonna… burst…”

Shaking off his stupefaction, Emil flagged down a guard. “Get this lad some help, like the women affected by the curse. And pass on the word that this will slowly happen to everyone. We need as few people outside as possible, be they woman or man.”

The guard agreed and helped young Belamy stagger into a shop. Thanking Emil, his father followed.

Looking sick, the messenger trotted off after them, rubbing his own gut, which seemed larger than a moment ago. “Thought it was indigestion… Gods above…”

Backing against a wall to rest, Drogo cowered within his cloak. “This has to be a joke.”

Joining him, Emil frowned at his friend. “Perhaps, to the demon army, it is. But I assure you their pregnancies were real.”

“Shit,” he swore, fingers digging into the thick fur.

“Indeed. It’s over. Let us take a carriage to the southern gate and order it opened.”

“Excuse me?” Drogo snapped, turning to stare incredulously at him. “What is ‘over’ about it? My men can still fight! I will not allow their king to abandon them!”

“For now, yes, they can still fight. But the demon army is not at the gate right now,” Emil said. “At the pace they walked, they will be here in maybe an hour or two. And what state will our men be in then? Will their armor still fit? Will they be able to focus their aim while ignoring the imps’ squirming? Is it fair to demand they rush about with wombs they may barely be able to lift? Look me in the eyes and tell me you will feel morally secure ordering our soldiers to ward off an army as they battle through the pains of labor. Which, mind you, they will be completely mentally unprepared for, as this is a situation no human male has ever had to contemplate.”

Having lost the nerve to keep eye contact, Drogo glared down at the wine-colored street, cloak held closed by one shaking hand. “Shit… Shit, shit, shit!”

Emil clenched his own fists. “I’m sorry. Truly, I am so sorry, to you, and to everyone else I now rule. I know how you feel. I don’t like this either. We dreamt so long, studied so hard, trained like our lives depended on it, waiting for the day I’d be king and you’d be captain. I hate that my first order to our army has to be a command to surrender…”

Drogo did not respond, lost in his own dread.

Flagging down another guard, Emil asked for a new carriage to be brought. As he saw it coming, he turned back toward his friend. “We have to go, Drogo. Come on, let’s get inside before we too are cursed.”

Again, he did not respond.

“Drogo?” Emil asked. Suddenly concerned, he flared his Prowess and listened to the frantic beating of the man’s heart.

And the multiple, smaller heartbeats accompanying it.

“Oh no,” Emil gasped, rushing to his side. “Drogo-“

“Don’t say it,” he demanded.

“Drogo, you’re-“

“Do not say it!” he snapped, breathing heavily and sweating a storm. “If you say it out loud, you’ll make it real.”

Emil shook his head. “Refusing to acknowledge it won’t make it not real.”

Comforting his friend, Emil steered Drogo toward the carriage and helped him inside, sitting with him on the bench. The guard captain sat shaking and clutching his cloak for dear life as the horses began trotting.

“Let me see,” Emil said, softly.

Drogo hesitated a long minute before allowing the cloak to be pushed aside. His belly was small as of yet, compared to Belamy’s, but distinctly bloated, leather belt digging into the bottom curve of it harshly. Emil undid the buckle of that belt, lifting the man’s shirt, from where it was tucked into the waist of his pants, for a better look. The buckle had left a red impression in his skin, which was also crossed by dozens of scars from years of battle, stretched and distorted by the bloat. Drogo’s once proud abs smoothed and faded into his newly expanded middle. His bellybutton seemed shallow, as if it could push out any minute. Gently, Emil placed a hand on him and felt around. His belly was firm, but not hard, like a very large peach.

Drogo shivered, letting out a small noise, and Emil stopped. Partly to apologize for upsetting his friend, which Drogo forgave him for, giving him permission to continue. And partly to stop to ask himself what in Hazaelia’s Void he was doing.

Poor Drogo probably thinks I’m examining him like some doctor, diagnosing his exact state of progress and reasoning how to help him, Emil thought. Truth was… Emil just wanted to touch that belly. Perhaps the demonic moonlight had touched Emil’s mind, because he found it stuffed with lustful thoughts. There was an unexplainable air of eroticism about the perfect roundness of Drogo’s paunch. The weight. The way the man blushed so hard and squirmed in such embarrassment at having it exposed. The way such a strong, masculine warrior shivered with pleasure and allowed a girlish moan to escape his lips as his king touched him. Daring, Emil touched him again! Felt around the sides of his swell, as if sizing him up for medical purposes! Unfortunately, Drogo remained quiet and composed this time, and Emil was ashamed to admit that almost made him mad.

“H-how many do you think are in there?” Drogo asked, a worried crack in his voice.

Emil quickly flared his Prowess and counted heartbeats to find out. One… Two… “I think there are… three? No, four. Definitely four.”

“Four?!” Drogo gasped, suddenly breathing hard and floating slightly off his seat as he panicked and his Prowess lightened him. “Fuck! Hold on, how many did that nobleman’s son have?”

“Five or six,” Emil said, anchoring him with a hand on his thigh.

“So, I won’t be as massive as he was,” he breathed, relieved. “That’s reassuring, though not by much.”

Emil nodded, listening intently to Drogo’s racing heartbeat, the four hearts of the tiny demon fetuses, and the slow, enticing creak of his womb swelling ever larger. “Unless each of his was particularly small, and yours grow particularly large.”

“Don’t suggest such awful possibilities!” he choked. “The bigger they grow, the harder they’ll be to get out, right? Hang about, where will they evacuate in the first place?”

Keeping his Prowess at full power, Emil gently gripped his friend’s belly again, fascinated by the feeling of Drogo swelling against his palm. “I haven’t got a clue. Hopefully, the doctors who deliver young Belamy’s brood will pass that information on to-“

It hit him like a punch to the gut, but from inside. Sensitive as he could make himself, Emil really felt it when something the size of a small apple burst forth into existence between his organs, as if violently shoved there by an intangible fist.

“OH!” he choked, buckling over with the wind knocked out of him and both hands on his stomach.

“Emil!” Drogo sat forward in alarm, holding him by the shoulders. “Emil? Oh gods, it’s happened to you, hasn’t it? I barely noticed when it happened to me, but with your senses…”

“… fi-… I’m fine…” Emil wheezed, steading himself with deep breaths. Dampening his Prowess so his senses returned to normal lost him the ability to feel it at all, and gained him a quick recovery from the shock. “Y-you’re right, I was using my Prowess at maximum strength to examine yours when mine appeared suddenly. I’m quite alright. No need for concern.”

Drogo frowned. “You’re cursed too, now. You’re-…”

“Pregnant, yes.” And shaking with anticipation. Emil let his friend slide his shirt back down as the king moved to the opposite bench, just in case Drogo decided to touch Emil to elicit more girlish moans.

Prowess reignited, he focused on the false womb. Growing downward into a pear shape, the bulbous end kept it in place above his bladder as the stem of said pear stretched to form a tube that pierced into the lowest inches of his intestines, rooting itself. Sprouting its own veins and arteries, the womb wove itself into Emil’s blood supply and officially became one of his organs. Hormones surged suddenly through his bloodstream, Emil’s body behaving strangely as it noticed the obtrusive new resident.

“But we’re out of the moonlight,” Drogo interrupted. “How?”

“Moonlight’s still coming in, a bit,” Emil said, nodding toward the curtained windows. “Besides, we were out in it for a while. Maybe it’s only now caught up with me.”

Biting his lip to stop himself from making any unflattering noises, Emil rode out a growth spurt, the womb expanding quickly to twice its size. Though still it was nowhere near large enough to show on his frame. With the minute vibrations it made, Emil could perceive the contents. Full mostly of liquid, exit tube tightly plugged by a structure of mucous or something, it sat in him like a tiny, round, corked bottle. Stuck to the inner front of the womb was some pillow of tissue, and sprouting from that were a number of strings with bits of flesh the size of grains of rice dangling at their ends. Slowly, Emil realized these must be the imp embryos. Even more slowly, it dawned on him how god damned many of them there were.

“What?” Drogo asked, alarmed by the horror Emil wore openly on his face.

“I-… Th-there are nine of them,” Emil gasped, clutching his as of yet still flat stomach.

“Nine what?” Drogo asked. Then his eyes widened. “Nine?! Inside of you?!”

He nodded.

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“Well, not absolutely. Small internal vibrations can be difficult to count. There may be as many as ten.”

“By the gods, and I complained about four!”

Neither of them spoke much for the rest of the ride. As the carriage wove carefully through the screaming crowds, the wait was agonizing. Emil had nothing to do but sit and feel the slow, creeping growth of his womb. Drogo eventually broke down and allowed himself to moan and rub his belly as it started to swell uncomfortably big, riding his shirt back up to show a strip of skin, and his freshly popped bellybutton. For whatever reason, Emil’s expansion was much, much less expedient. The hormonal cocktail rushing through his blood made him nauseous and tired. His nipples were strangely sore, and his abdomen cramped as the womb ever so gently, yet ruthlessly, began to push his other organs aside for more room.

And there was something unfathomably erotic about it. The glacial spread of his fingers and the fabric of his shirt as he bloated beneath them. The weight of the womb somehow pressing down on just the right spot, growing ever so slightly heavier every minute. There was even something arousing about the helplessness of not being able to stop his body from changing, allowing this thing to grow unchecked, and the humiliation of having to sit quietly in front of another man as it happened.

Emil was raised to be a perfectly behaved prince. In the public eye, he did not get sick, yet here he was red in the face, dripping sweat, trying to massage his cramps away before he puked. He did not overindulge, yet here his stomach began to curve as if he’d wolfed down two meals in a single sitting. He did not get aroused—except in the presence of his eventual queen as she conspired to bear his children—and yet here he sat with nine or ten children growing in his own belly, as Emil carefully considered ripping off Drogo’s pants and touching him in less and less appropriate places until the guard captain could physically no longer contain those adorable noises of pleasure.

Emil internally thanked his tailors, as if they were gods, for designing his undergarments tight and firm such that they did not allow his incredibly confused erection to show. Otherwise, he could not have been convinced to exit the carriage as it stopped a ways from the southern gate.

Drogo made a fruitless effort to pull his shirt down, and his pants up, then let out a huff as he stood with some difficulty and covered himself again with his cloak. It mostly hid him, though it bent slightly at the peak of his belly. “What in the world took so long?” he yelled up to the carriage driver.

“Traffic,” the man called down. “Streets are filled with waddling pregnant people ‘n scampering demons, m’Lord. I’m gonna need a break here to give birth m’self.”

Growling, the guard captain stepped out.

Wiping his face and returning it to a mask of confidence, Emil stood. His womb was the size of an orange, the imps inside the size of peas. Mistakenly, the tightness of his suit accentuated his slight bloat, clinging to the subtle curve of it. People would notice, and there was nothing he could do.

Sighing, Emil found Drogo waiting to help him down from the carriage. He accepted the man’s hand. Gawkers, all with bloated bellies of their own, bearing various sizes, stages and numbers of imps, crowded the sides of the streets behind lines of soldiers in their same condition. They wore no armor, as Emil had predicted. It no longer fit.

A path was made for the king and his captain, which had the unfortunate side effect of making them stand out. Although Emil did his best to compose himself, stand up straight and true, and keep his hands off his middle, the whispers began immediately.

“Look at the way Lord Steelblade’s cloak juts out—he must be cursed too.”

“Forget Lord Steelblade. Look at the king.”

“What about him?”

“Look at the front of his suit. He-… He’s curvaceous.”

Curvaceous! By the gods, Emil wanted to die on the spot.

“Hah! ‘Curvaceous’, to describe His Majesty?”

“Well forgive me, woman, for trying to think of a more flattering term for our nobility than ‘round’!”

Round! Goodness, he wasn’t that big yet, was he?! He dared not stare down at himself to check!

The crowd was absolutely churning with chatter like that, dozens of people realizing Emil must be pregnant like the rest of them and gossiping about it. Wondering when it happened. If he’d noticed. How big he was going to get. How many imps he would push out. And Emil merely had to stand there and listen. What was he to do? Demand silence and admit he’d heard? Admit he was flustered? No. King Emil could admit to no such things. He had to cast off his strange thoughts and hold his society together as the stoic ruler it needed.

Drogo crouched—not all the way, as the half crouch he bent into seemed to strain his swell under the cloak—and leaped hundreds of feet, directly skyward, to peer over the wall. As he floated back down, he rejoined Emil with a frown. “They are here.”

“Open the gates!” Emil commanded his guards. “We surrender with all the dignity we can muster, so that our people might be relieved of this torment!”

A team of soldiers waddled to the gate and began figuring out how to pull it open with their bellies in the way. Dignity indeed.

Marching over, Drogo barked orders at them. “Come on, men, pull!”

The heavy doors made little progress. Three of the men had to pause suddenly and buckle in pain as their waters broke, colorless liquid gushing down the backs of their pants.

“For the gods’ sake!” Drogo groaned, clapping a hand to his forehead.

Something banged against the gates. At the first bang, the team of soldiers froze, startled. The second bang sent them running—well, waddling.

Drogo took a breath, perhaps to order them back into position, then hesitated.

Around the edges of the wood, vines grew. Fingers of green crept into the gaps between the doors and the stone, spooling like thread across the great slabs of iron birch. Stronger they grew, thicker and sturdier, like muscular arms squeezing the enormous doors until the wood began to crack. Creaking ominously, the gates split and splintered, the tops and bottoms bending inward. Finally, with a great snap, they broke, falling to the ground in a deafening crash and a cloud of dust, grass and wood chips.

Hand flying to his belly, Emil felt his womb swell in another growth spurt, and pull, as if magnetically, toward the demoness who had easily breached their city.

(a/n hello! i hope y'all enjoy, you can find more to come @pumpkinbirth )

You thought you had more time.

Sure, you knew full well you were cutting it close, but you thought you had at least another week left. That was how you’d reasoned yourself into going out today; you were starting to get a little stir-crazy anyway and you figured a walk around the mall might do you some good. Not to mention it was early on a Monday, which meant there would hardly be anybody there, so you could be as leisurely as you pleased.

It also meant there weren’t too many people around when you winced and rubbed your swollen belly, caught off guard by a faint twinge of pain. You were quick to reason this away too; it wasn’t your first bout of braxton-hicks and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. But as you kept walking, they kept coming, and eventually you couldn’t distract yourself any longer.

“Mnh…just gotta sit for a little bit, it’s fine…” you murmured to yourself, your hand still cradling your belly as you sought out a bench not too far away. A loud sigh of relief left you when you finally sat, and you hummed softly as both your hands ran over your bump, the soft fabric of your sundress stretched tightly over it. Feeling better already, you chuckled quietly at how you’d almost panicked over nothing–

“N-nnh…!”

Or what was quickly proving to not be nothing.

That one had hurt, many levels above the slight discomfort you’d experienced before, and your heart raced as it settled in. You were really in labor. You’d parked clear on the other side of the mall, and while initially you thought you might make it back, another contraction gripped you as soon as you stood from the bench.

So that option was out. Ask for help, maybe? You were out of luck on that front too; the mall was pretty much dead, just how you’d anticipated. Now you were really panicking, although you did your best not to show it. What were you going to do?

As you scanned your surroundings, your eyes settled on a bathroom a little ways off. There was a small sign on the front saying it was closed, something about it currently being renovated and if you could please use another of their available bathrooms.

“Fuck tha-aah!-t…” you groaned, clenching your teeth through this contraction. You walked as fast as you could, something in you felt you were rapidly running short on time, and you quickly looked over your shoulder before entering the bathroom, which had blessedly been left unlocked. The door had barely clicked shut when you cried out, they were coming faster and faster now. Your belly felt lower, your hands trembling slightly as you rubbed and attempted to soothe yourself, trying to remember how you should be breathing.

Your train of thought was soon interrupted by a contraction, but this one felt different. Something shifted in you, and you barely managed to stifle a cry as your water finally broke. It just kept coming, a low moan escaping you as you felt the liquid gush down your shaking legs.

“Shit, it’s r-really coming…!” you whimpered, chest heaving with every breath.

It took a moment for you to gather yourself enough to move, carefully sidestepping the puddle of amniotic fluid while it kept trickling out of you, and you finally made it into the handicap stall, not bothering to close it. With your back to the wall you inched your way down until you were seated on the floor, the cool tile a welcome relief against your heated flesh. Once another contraction came and went, you hurriedly shifted your ruined panties down, struggling to finally get them off before your hand moved to your cunt. You whined softly, slipping two fingers into yourself to check how far you were, even though you honestly had no clue what ten centimeters would even feel like. Your cervix certainly felt open enough, and even if it wasn’t you were sure you wouldn’t be able to wait any longer.

You braced yourself against the wall, your hands hooked under your knees to keep your legs as spread as they could go, and when the next contraction came you finally gave in, bearing down with your first push. Despite your best efforts to stay quiet you were quickly losing that battle, and when you pushed again a guttural moan escaped your throat.

“M-mmnnngh, please, c’mon baby, please…” Your hands were on your belly again, pressing down with every push as you tried to hasten things along. After a bit you felt yourself again, your pussy bulging as your baby was on the verge of crowning. In an attempt to feel something besides the searing pain your fingertips brushed over your clit, swollen and throbbing with all your efforts. The pleasure mixed oddly yet perfectly with the pain, and you kept going just like that; one hand rubbing at your tight belly, the other rubbing furious circles at your clit. It wasn’t long before you could feel it coming, and you moaned with loud abandon as several things happened at once; you came, gushing a mix of squirt and birthing fluid, and your hips bucked forward as your baby’s head finally crowned, stretching you impossibly wide.

“Ffffuck!! Oh fuck, a-almost there…!!” Panting heavily, you took this opportunity of clarity to shift positions, gradually propping yourself up to a squat. Your baby felt so heavy between your legs, and you hoped being like this would help it along. You didn’t have to wait long to find out, and with this next contraction you bore down, sweaty hands gripping your thighs. Your laboring cunt stretched wider still, making way for one shoulder, then another, and you moaned loudly as finally, finally the rest of your baby slid out of you. You caught it with shaking hands, blood and birthing fluids dripping from you, and you slid exhausted back onto the bathroom floor.

@Birthedstars

You waddle across the beach, the sand spreading underneath your feet. The moon shimmered off the ocean water and the sound of the waves crashing on the nearby rocks surrounding a dark sea cave entrance. This is where he wanted you to go. It was time. You cradled your misshapen stomach, the hard surface of the eggs inside shifted around and could be felt pressing low into your pelvis.

You waddle into the hollowed out rock and steadily make your way to the back of it. 10 weeks ago, this was where you’d promised to take his young. You remember the feeling of him pressing his cock into you and forcing his eggs into your body. They were only the size of golf balls then. You remember his sea foam like cum filling and creating a pouch in your stomach. It was a euphoric experience, you wouldn’t have minded doing it again.

You reach the end of the cave. The sea water barely reaches the back, making it a solitary beach within the rock. The tide would come in soon to change that. You stand in the shallow waters of the cave beach and take a deep breath. You feel your belly drop and the eggs shake beneath your palms as the smell of salt water reaches your nose. It was a lot more concentrated here, the children within the eggs must have sensed it.

Your tight belly begins to contract, the first egg pressing hard out of your womb. You take your knees into your hands as you continue to stand in the water and bear down. The pain coming steadily, Your moans echo through the cave and harmonize with the waves. The full feeling of the smooth and wide egg going through you was better than you imagined. The egg is big but it moves easily through you. The contraction stops, and you’re left with the egg completely inside your canal. You rock your hips back and forth to relieve yourself of the pressure. You can feel the egg slip through a bit while you move.  

Another bout of pressure and your muscles contorting command your focus. You bear down once again, lowering yourself even more under the weight of the egg. Slowly but surely, the hard egg begins to spread you wide, a dull burn inflaming your bottom half.

You try to keep your breath under control but it’s hard with all of the sensations assaulting you at once. You begin to doubt your ability to birth the eggs, but suddenly a familiar figure appears, sitting on the clear water before you. The Leviathan. He was in his most human form. Skin still blue and scaled, eyes golden green and narrow like a snake. He sat there with one arm over his raised knee, the lower half of his face nestled in his forearm. He stared at you intently, waiting to see if he made the right choice of who would host his children.

The contraction around your stomach intensifies. You bear down even harder, your belly contorting with your action. The egg stretches you wider and wider, you feel the widest part of the egg edge out of you until finally you feel a pop and release. The egg falls between your legs into the soft beach sand. The silky blue egg shifted and wiggled on its own. The child within was going to break free soon.

The second egg came faster. It felt a size smaller than the first and it went through your already stretched canal easily because of that. You still felt the pain of each contraction and the slight burn when it had begun to crown. You drop to your knees and push the small egg to its widest point until it falls out on its own. You sigh in relief as the egg rolls next to the first. It started shifting and shuddering just the same as well.

Your stomach was still very round despite being empty of two of three eggs. You soon felt another contraction press the final egg into your canal. This one felt humongous as it passed through you. Every fiber in your canal screamed at you in pain. The pressure in your crotch was unbearable. With every push, little progress was made. The cavern echoed with your voice, you fell back into the sand and clutched your stomach between both hands. The Leviathan kept staring at you with the same expectant eyes that judged how well you birthed his young.  

The tip of the egg spreads your outer opening wider and wider. Its size dwarfed that of the first two. Your crotch burns like it was being branded with a hot iron. Each push made it more excruciating, but you couldn’t bear to stop. However, the egg had no intention of making it that easy. Just as it reached its roundest and widest point, it stopped moving. You bear down desperately with each seizing of your womb, even pressing both of your hands onto the top of your hard belly to get it out.

It edged out slowly, you arch your back and buck your hips under the pain and pressure, until finally, with a plop and a gush of seafoam like liquid, the egg fell out of you and rolled next to its siblings and began shaking in kind.

You do your best to get up on your elbows and look at your eggs. The fruits of your effort. You couldn’t rest until you knew that they hatched safely.

You and the Leviathan look at the eggs shaking and rattling against each other. The first egg began to crack open. Small splinters of the shell flew into the water. The eggs started rattling violently. A visible hole popped open through the third egg and slimy, webbed hands came out of it. The first and second followed.

Slowly but surely, you watched as the pale blue babies of the Leviathan came out of their shells and slid into the water. They looked even more human than the Leviathan did, save for the tadpole-like tails they had instead of eggs. Their faces were rounder and eyes a more natural, human color as opposed to the Leviathan’s unnatural blue.

You watch as the three children swim towards their father and run circles around him. The Leviathan smiled for the first time since surfacing before you. He looked up at you with the same smile and said in a low tone.

“Thank you”

The Leviathan sank back into the waters and swam off his new young.

You wouldn’t mind coming to his service again in a few years you thought, massaging your empty stomach.

372/13. Imagine you love creating yourself in The Sims and making yourself pregnant, using all kinds of mods to control every aspect of the experience. One day, you come across an obscure mod that promises complete realism. You install it, make your Sim-self pregnant with triplets, as usual. You start to feel nauseous, tired and hungry, but you keep playing. Soon, your Sim-self’s belly starts to show… and so does yours… —————————————————————— 

You’re a neet girl who’s never really been into social interactions unless they were done in a game chat setting. By day, you do boring IT work in an office where nobody knows your name and your supervisor is a middle aged simpleton with no knowledge of how the internet works. By night, you can escape that and play computer games to your heart’s content. Since your older brother gave you a hand-me-down laptop when he went off to college, you’ve been playing games at least three hours a day. You’ve since upgraded to a more powerful setup: a custom PC that could handle just about any game currently out there. You’ve played everything from racing to FPS games, but tonight, you found yourself booting up an old favorite genre you hadn’t touched in a while: life simulation. 

Some of your first games were Sims, and you would spend countless hours customizing your characters, watching them interact, and playing God in the ways you were allowed of course. When Sims 4 came out, nostalgia compelled you to buy it, and you’ve already racked up hundreds of hours messing about in it. As you booted up your “battle station” upon returning home, Steam started updating. Once it finished, your Workshop page showed up, conveniently on the Sims 4 page. You would normally ignore mods and play vanilla, but one on the front page under “Newest mods” catches your eye: “Full Realism Mode”. It sounds pretty vague, but has already garnered hundreds of downloads and positive comments. So with a “Why not?” feeling, you download it and start up a new game just to see what it’s all about. You make a new Sim to control; nothing too fancy, just as close a copy to yourself you can go with pale skin, red curly hair that reaches just past your shoulders, and blue eyes behind frameless glasses. The game begins, and so far, things seem to be the same as your normal vanilla experience. Making sure the mod is active, you go to settings to see what the change really is. The page shows your mod is active, so reopening the workshop window, you find a troubleshooting topic on a forum saying you need to get your Sim pregnant to make it work. Weird stipulation, but ok. You go back into the game, find a boyfriend, and have some WooHoo! time. Oddly enough, the scene is a bit more extended, the animation of your Sim couple staying under the covers longer than normal. As this happens, you feel a strange burning in your nether regions. It’s odd…you’ve never been interested in sex, and the game’s version of it is more comical than enough to get your motor running. As the animation does end, you jolt as a warm feeling suddenly shoots up from your sweatpants’ waistband to your chest. You pull away from your desk and prod your somewhat chubby stomach a little to see what’s wrong. The feeling left as soon as you registered it, but nothing seems to be wrong. You chalk it up to your imagination and go back to the game. Your Sim doesn’t really seem to do anything out of the ordinary for a bit until a popup suddenly says “Congratulations! You’re pregnant!” “Okay, so where’s the mod changes this promised?” you ask yourself as your Sim starts displaying morning sickness and heads to the bathroom. As this happens, a sudden wave of nausea hits you, and the overwhelming urge of something forcing its way up your throat sends you scrambling from your chair for your bathroom across your apartment. Making it just in time, you expel your stomach’s contents into the toilet, coughing as you spit the last of your late lunch and energy drink from earlier into the porcelain throne. Upon flushing, you reach into your cupboard behind the mirror and find some mouthwash to get the taste of vomit out of your mouth. As you shut it, you notice in your reflection, your normal pudge seems to be a bit more pronounced under your t-shirt. It looks like you’re pushing out when you’re not, plus you just emptied your stomach into the toilet bowl minutes ago. Confused, you put the mouthwash back and once again, poke and prod your middle to see what’s going on when a ping from your computer steals your attention back to the game. Walking back to your desk, you notice your Sim automatically went to a doctor’s appointment while you were gone, and a new pop up presents itself: “Warning: Multiples Detected. Symptoms may be more pronounced.” Multiples? You’ve heard of some gamers using mods or cheats to have Sims birth more than one baby, but you had no such mods installed. Must be part of the realism mode: never know what you’ll get with pregnancy you guess. As your Sim leaves the doctor, it shows that she feels tired, and strangely, so do you. That’s odd. You’re normally not one to crash until five in the morning, and it’s only eleven at night. Still, as you think this, something wills you to leave your seat again, and you find yourself unceremoniously flopping onto your couch nearby, and passing out almost immediately. You awake several hours later as the sun shining through your window blinds directly into your eyes. As you stir, a sudden weight on top of you causes you to shift from lying on your back to your side, but the pressure stays with you as you change positions. Confused, opening your eyes, you see a lump under your shirt. Pulling it up, you nearly shriek as you realize it’s your own body. Your belly had grown overnight, and it was taught, hard, and definitely not a dream as you pinch the skin on your side only to feel it tense up. Your breasts seem to have grown too. What were once small B-cups now seem to strain your bra as two coconuts sit atop a pumpkin-sized mound of…whatever was inside you making you grow. You feel your hips have also widened a little as your sweatpants, that were normally baggy, suddenly feel a bit tighter on you. You sit up as your rational mind is screaming questions in your head: “How did this happen? Why are you so big? What’s going on?” Just as you continue to question, a ping from your computer grabs your attention. The Sims game wasn’t paused. It had continued to play all night, and you left it on a slightly fast forwarded process of time. That’s when it clicks for you. “Full Realism…activated by pregnancy…” That’s ridiculous you think! There’s no way you can be- Just as you think that, something prods at your stomach…from the inside. You look down at yourself as the impossible truth dawns on you. What happens to your Sim in F.R.M…happens to you. Another kick confirms your fears, this one you can see as a small bump forms under your skin with the feeling of the kick inside your belly. It feels weird, but…nice in a way. Just as your thoughts are coming to terms with the fact you’re suddenly with child, another kick comes just below your navel, but…the first set was hitting you from the left side of your belly. That’s when a third set hits the top right hemisphere of the fleshy globe sitting on your lap. In a panic, you heave yourself off the couch, taking yourself off balance as you quickly are introduced to your new sense of balance and weight. Hurrying to your computer, you look back in the game log to see what you missed. Your Sim now sports a belly similar in size to yours, and the activity log does indeed say your Sim went back to the doctor and confirmed it: you’re having triplets. And you’re already nearing the end of your second trimester. You’ve still got more to grow… End of Part 1.

First time writer, long time watcher, call me Tide!

Kailani, new goddess of the ocean, discovers something strange about being a god with her merfolk girlfriend, Bay.

Kailani rubbed her chest. It had been burning all day. Sure, earlier this morning it had been a little feeling but now it burned like something was on fire inside her.

She huddled on Bay’s bed since the Merfolk was above deck dealing with her crew. Bay didn’t know Kailani was here. The ocean goddess intended it that way.

She was without her armor and clothes and didn’t want to be seen without it on. Her body and habits had changed. A lot. Her already wild emotions got even wilder, anger one moment and sobbing the next. A few months ago she had random bursts of cravings for strange foods which was weird since gods didn’t need to eat. That eating habit made her gain a little weight on her face and stomach yet her divinity seemed to not want to peel it off. Worst of all was her chest. As a human it had been small, as a goddess she was basically flat, and now?

Kailani didn’t like looking at herself without armor and clothes on. She unfortunately had to right now at the dim glow between the plumper, than she was used to, chest and stomach. A strange blue glow hummed from her heart, the source of this mysterious burning feeling. Her clawed hand trailed along the light “What’s wrong with me?” She mumbled.

There was a voice “Yeah, give me a sec,” Bay called.

Kailani fled through five panicked scenarios before redawning her armor and clothes that thankfully warped her true appearance. The door opened to Bay.

Kailani waved “Hey,” she greeted as she stood up.

Bay smiled “Oh Lani, didn’t know you came aboard,” she said.

The goddess chuckled nervously “Just wanted to make a pit stop, god stuff and all,” why was it so hot? The heat was getting more intense. She felt like she was melting. “Seems pretty good right now.”

The Merfolk was staring at her “Kailani, are you okay?” She asked and began to walk towards her.

The flaming feeling grew worse “I’m fine, it’s fine, what’s the worst that could-” the inferno roared followed by a sharp pain in her entire body. Kailani gasped, her hand flew to her chest as she fell to the floor. It was fire and pain, pain and fire. Whatever this thing was that made her divinity acting up wanted out. It wanted out badly.

“-ani? Kailani? What’s wrong?” Bay’s voice called from far away.

Kailani clawed at her breastplate “Oh gods, it- it burns Bay,” she sobbed. The fire was eating her alive like ascending had but more intensely stuck at the point between human and god.

It eased a little bit enough for her to breathe again as tears welled in her eyes. Bay helped her onto the bed again “Kailani, what’s going on?” She asked with concern very evident on her face.

The merfolk had seen her in a situation like this before, Kailani faintly recalled, something like this wretched feeling when she had been human and thought the divinity was a curse before she discovered the true nature of it all.

She trembled from exhaustion “I don’t know,” she muttered “It’s been like this all day, it’s just getting worse,” her voice cracked at the end. Gods, this thing was making her crazy. There was no clear answer.

“Where does it hurt?” Bay asked. Kailani tapped her breast plate. Yet the pirate’s hands were stopped after moving to the visible latches on the armor piece, Kailani’s water whips tangled around her wrists.

Bay saw the nervous look on Kailani’s face “Don’t. don’t,” she muttered.

The merfolk touched her cheek “Hey,” she whispered, soft blue eyes cutting to her “It’s gonna be fine.”

Kailani tensed for a moment, maybe it was fear before she started panting and leaning forward to clutch her chest, head resting on Bay’s shoulder.

Once it passed, Bay helped guide her to lay down and began undoing the fastenings “Okay Lani, I’m going to take this part off. Can you handle the back?” She offered.

Kailani nodded jerkily. Her heart pounding inside her chest in time with the flaming feeling. Her chest was exposed to the cool air but it did nothing to help her. A new warmth grew on her face as Bay eyed her altered body. It was embarrassing. The Merfolk placed the chest plate down which vanished since it was no longer attached to her. Bay looked at the blush and slightly rounder face of her girlfriend “I’m going to touch you and see if I can guess what it is,” she said. A clawed hand started with the slight chub at her stomach. The Merfolk’s hand was cool and made Kailani twitch at the gentle prods before ghosting up her ribs. Bay didn’t touch her chest automatically making her thankful but it does rest near the glowing spot “Kailani, has your uh-” she blushed at the question on her tongue “Has your breasts felt any different aside from growing?”

Kailani was blushing already but somehow still became worse at that “They’re sensitive mostly,” followed by “and feel full?”

Bay’s eyes flicked from her face to her chest. There’s a thin line of lust in there but even in her flame driven haze, Kailani could tell Bay was trying to make sure she’s comfortable. That’s what she loved about the pirate, how she always made sure Kailani was comfortable with everything they did together

Going on dates, exploring the ocean, learning each other’s habits again, even exploring each other romantically and not.

Hell even that one time months ago when she had let Bay hold a piece of her divinity… And the events that followed afterwards.

She was barely aware of the hand until a soft pinch came from one of her breasts. Kailani gasped as the world came back to her. Bay pulled her hand away and licked the tip of her finger.

It was like a missing piece of the puzzle came together in her mind. Bay looked at Kailani. Something alarming yet mystical “Kailani, do you remember that thing we talked about a while back,” she said.

The goddess shook her head “Gotta be specific,” she replied.

“When I was holding your divinity,” she cupped her hands “It’s like a little baby?”

Kailani nodded “Yeah, what’s that got to do w- Gods!” Her voice cracked as the feeling welled hotter again. The light on her chest burned brighter that she could barely see when Bay’s head turned to avoid being blinded. It glowed hotly for a minute before dimming with the feeling. Kailani’s eyes had scrunched closed as she caught her breath. A cool hand slid over the space of the divinity banging at her chest “Kailani. I think you’re pregnant.”

Her eyes snapped open “No? No! I can’t be pr- can’t be- That!” She snapped as panic seized her “It’s not possible! We’re both women and I’m A God, I Should Know If I Was That! It’s My Body!!”

She would have sat up but Bay’s hand seemed to unconsciously keep her laying down. Bay started rubbing her thumb over the spot “We’re not exactly conventional to be having a baby but it kinda lines up. I think what happened is that you let me see that godly part of yourself and whatever I said just stuck. That hunk of your godly divinity is making an actual child and-”

“Don’t say it!” Kailani snapped “I’m Not Having A Baby! I can’t be a- Ah- AHHH!” She started screaming. Bay tried to pull her hand away when the light suddenly brightened. It was like she was stuck there as the energy began seizing her hand and pulling itself up. Now she understood it, the horrible burning pain Kailani was in, as it crawled itself up and stung at her nerves. Bay started screaming too. Things grew horrible and incoherent. Only screaming and light.

Then it just.

Stopped.

They were both still where they had been. Kailani laying on the bed. Bay sitting beside her. They both stared at each other. Then at the spot where the divinity had been. A baby, so tiny and small, was pressed against Kailani’s chest making little fussing noises. Then they seemed to find their lungs and wailed.

“Loud for something that small,” Bay said. Her hands froze as she reached for them. She had claws and this was the equivalent of a newborn albeit one of weird god magic. Kailani made a grumbled noise and reached up to touch the baby. It’s cries began to settle.

They stared at it. A baby with black skin, a tuft of pale hair, and dark green scales among their merfolk features.

Kailani softly sat up with a twinge, carefully to hold the baby in her arms. Bay snorted as she saw the look on Kailani’s face “So?” She asked.

The goddess gestured to the thing “It’s a boy,” her eyes dipped to him. A son, Their Son. Kailani couldn’t not stare. A baby. A whole baby this entire time. She noted her stomach was normal again and her chest was more or less back to its regular size, still a little swollen. She stared at her son “Oh Gods!” She said.

Bay’s eyes widened “Are you okay? There’s not a second one coming, is there?” She asked.

Kailani looked at her “I have to feed this thing!” That was a thought “I’m a goddess, I have duties to take care of! A baby is a 24 hours deal!”

Bay looked a little relieved “Oh, well I mean… If you wanted I could handle that,” she offered.

Kailani blushed “No, I can’t do that to you. It’s already a lot with your captain duties and everything,” She said.

The Merfolk reached out to hold her girlfriend’s free hand “Lani, I love you and nothing’s going to change that. I want to help in any way I can, he’s my son too.”

Kailani laughed, taking her hand back to wipe away unexpected tears “Okay, okay, we’ll see what happens. Let’s just- enjoy the moment,” she said.

The little boy whined.

“We should name him something, Hugo?” Bay said, moving to touch his little head.

“We’re not naming him Hugo, my divinity made him, I’ll name him,” Kailani said. She stared at him. Squished face and small. Names, names, names. Gods above she wished she had gotten to know about him sooner.

Bay’s fins perked. She whispered something to Kailani. It was an older part of herself who melted at the thought but she smiled at her new son “Hi Dylan.”