#(it’s not mpreg I promise!!!)

[gravidwithlore]

At 104 points, Kaz is (so far) knocked up with 5 precious demon babies! Thanks so much to everyone who's liked, reblogged, and donated to my Ko-fi! Let's keep this train going and see how much bigger this demon can get!

Prologue

“Fuck man, I think the whore got knocked up.” One of the guards muttered to their friend. Kaz felt the cock of the guard inside him twitch, and he couldn't help but moan and try to spread his legs even more. These idiots finally figured it out!

“Yeah, you like that you slut? Does the thought of being knocked up with our bastards make you wet?” The guard fucking his cunt teases. Kaz moans again and nods. They're not wrong, being filled with their bastards does make Kaz wet and horny. Thats his entire purpose, his being, thats what he was born to do as a succubus, to spread his legs and get fucked full of demon babies. It's not his fault if these dumb-ass guards think they ‘broke’ him in and made him this way. It's not Kaz's fault they're too hopped up on their own stupid musk to recognize the danger they're in.

“Man, I'm serious. Getting a prisoner pregnant could mean big trouble!” The first guard argued. That one might be a problem, though. Some of the guards had proven more resistant to his Charms than others. Especially the warden. But Kaz would get them eventually. They were only making him more powerful, after all.

“Yeah, big trouble for him. He's the one who's gonna have to spread his legs again when it comes time to push those big bastards out!” The other guard snorted. Kaz whined and reached for the 1st guard, bending down to try and get a better angle to feel the full force of the cock fucking him. He pawed at the guards pants, tongue out, panting like an animal.

“Fuck, man. This is really hot.” The first guard groaned, as his eyes began to glaze over and his cock started to tent his pants. Kaz didn't even have to beg for him to undo his pants and shove his cock down his throat. Rough and uncaring for Kaz's safety, he started to thoroughly fuck his throat, as if he could knock him up from that end as well. Lucky (or maybe unluckily) for him, the biology of some metaphysical beings, such as succubi, could do just that.

By the time they were done with him, meal time was long over. The guards laughed, as they shoved him back towards his cell and cracked jokes about not feeding his babies and guessing how many he'd be eating for. Kaz sat on the cold stone bench of his cell and smiled to himself. He rubbed the already visible swell of his belly, still basking in the warmth flooding through his core, feeling the subtle growth as his unborn children gained some new siblings. Little did they know just how fed and full he was.

Who ever said I wasn't generous? Let me add 2 more to that fertile fertile womb, just for fun! Want to add even more? Reblog any post related to the preg drive or donate to my Ko-fi.

[artzybumpkin]

I Need Your Help...

CW/ mpreg, language, slight angst (people saying harsh things to/about each other that they don’t really mean because they’re hurt and are stupid dumb idiots that are bad at communicating🥺💔)

Pt. 2

"Here we go," F0rd finally said after sifting through one of the cupboards in the small kitchen and pulling out a can. He chucked it St@n's way, the latter reflexively catching it like he'd been tossed a baseball. "I could warm it up if you'd rather, but it'll take the stove a bit to heat up."

St@nley turned the can in his fingers as he studied the label. Baron NumNums High Flyin’ Pork 'n Beans. 'Not exactly kosher, S1xer,' he almost joked aloud, but kept his mouth shut. It's not something that mattered to himself, anyway. Not anymore.

"Nah, it's fine like it is." he assured as he pulled out a pocket knife. He could practically feel the curious look his brother was giving him as he dug the blade into the lid of the can, making quick work of popping it open and eagerly dipping the spoon he'd been given into it's contents.

Though he wouldn't outright admit it... he was absolutely FAMISHED. So much so he basically shuddered in delight at the mere taste as he popped the first bite into his mouth. 'Finally, something NOT terrible for once!' he thought euphorically. It was by no means a spectacular meal, but to an empty stomach it was manna from heaven.

As he slowly came down from his dopamine high, he noticed F0rd still fumbling through the other cabinets like he had a bad case of tunnel vision. As he studied him, it was only now that St@nley got the chance to really see the scrawny and disheveled state his brother was in. How sluggish his movements were. How pale and gaunt his face was. And his hands… What was the cause for how beaten up they were?... The man looked like he hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in weeks.

‘That’s… not a good sign..,’ St@nley thought, the already existing concern amplified tenfold the longer he looked at him. He cleared his throat awkwardly in an attempt to get his attention. "Hey, uh... why dontcha sit down with me, eh? Get some food in ya? Tell me what's goin' on? I don't mean to be so frank but... You look like hell, Stanf0rd."

"Ah... later," he mused, still distracted by whatever he was searching for. In the midst of his search, his fingers grazed the forming bruise on the left side of his jaw. He opened and closed his mouth experimentally, feeling out the source of a dull yet stubborn pang in his mouth. "I think you broke one of my molars."

"… Right... yeah," St@n chuckled dryly, "uh... sorry 'bout that, by the way..."

"Besides, you're one to talk," he barked, glazing right over St@n's curt apology, "You're not exactly a sight to behold yourself, you know. AND you've currently got a stowaway to worry about." He closed the cupboard door and turned to go to the next room. "Stay here, I'll be back."

St@nley rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time that day. "Bettin' on it…" As soon as F0rd disappeared around the corner, he shot a look to the far end of the table, where the journal lay, and scowled. There were still so many questions he had yet to be answered. He just had to figure out how to get his brother to talk.

For a few minutes F0rd could faintly be heard rummaging through a few drawers, all the while muttering a short 'Now where is the damn thing?..,’ and ‘I swear it was here last time..,’ before he finally let out a mildly triumphant 'Aha!'

When he returned to the kitchen, he'd brought with him a small, worn briefcase (what was, upon setting it onto the table and flipping it open, revealed to be a decently stocked yet obviously thrown-together first aid kit). "Okay, pull up your shirt. Let me see your shoulder."

Letting out a small exasperated breath, St@n carefully (being VERY mindful of how he moved his sore shoulder) wriggled out of his jacket and pulled the back of his shirt up over his shoulders, bunching it up around his neck.

F0rd went to wash his hands, then stepped around and behind his brother to better assess the damage. He winced empathetically as he looked it over.

The burn took up the entirety of his shoulder blade, nearly touching the center of his back. It had to be at least 2nd if not 3rd degree, as the skin was already starting to tighten around the edges of the mark that was left... angry… inflamed... Even worse, though, was the unconventional shape of what was most definitely going to become a scar later.

And yet another reminder of how far they'd grown apart...

His brother had basically been branded with an alchemic sigil.

Because of him, there was now a permanent reminder of their earlier fight...

"How bad is it?" St@n's question rang, pulling F0rd from his thoughts.

"Hmm... well... it's, uh..."

"Gonna leave a mark?"

"No doubt about it." He took a moment to grab a washcloth and soaked one of it's corners in soapy water. "I'm gonna have to clean it so it doesn't get infected. It's not gonna feel great, but just-"

"Save the explanation, brainiac," St@n interrupted, mouth full from the latest spoonful of beans. "I’ve been through this song and dance before. Do what you have to, I can deal. Just hurry it up, would ya? It's cold in here."

Now it was F0rd's turn to roll his eyes. And despite himself, a slight smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. 'As brawny and bullheaded as ever, St@nley..,’ he thought amusedly as he began lightly dabbing at the wound. He’d reached the center of the mark where the burn was at its worst when the small sound of his brother hissing through his teeth made him pause. "St@n..?"

"It's fine... don't sweat it..."

Guilt ate at him, at the prospect of causing his brother any more physical pain than he had already, but he continued cleaning as gently as he could. It simply had to be done.

Once he was satisfied he'd properly disinfected the area, F0rd reached back into the kit, pulled out the bacitracin, and applied it generously to the surface of the burn before topping it off with a sterile pad. It was a very basic mend, he figured, but it would have to do. It was only as he continued working that he realized they'd suddenly fallen quiet again. And while the silence wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, there was still a level of tension that couldn’t be entirely ignored.

As he went to unroll a bundle of gauze, his eyes unintentionally bounced towards St@nley's belly. Judging by the sheer size of it, as it occupied most of the space in his lap, it was obvious he had to be nearing full term... a thought that greatly unsettled his nerves the more he lingered on it… Nevertheless, he decided to pry.

"So, um... When did you find out?"

"’Find out?’"

"About your... situation." he clumsily clarified while he wrapped the gauze around St@n’s shoulder and across his back and chest.

St@nley made a small sound of acknowledgement, drumming his fingers on the surface of the table as he carefully decided his wording. After a moment of thought, a deep sigh dragged itself from his chest. He set his now empty can down and then cradled his chin with his palm as he leaned onto the table on his elbow. "I think... about the first week of September."

“OH…” Only 4 months ago?? “Oh wow, so you were already a ways along then…”

“Yup. I'd been feeling... y’know... off for a while before that, but I just figured I’d caught some crazy flu bug or something during a, uh..,” St@n hesitated, reevaluating, “… freelance job. Was sick as shit for WEEKS. I couldn't keep anything down, didn't have the energy to even keep myself upright...” He grimaced. “God, it was awful, Ford… I swore I felt like I could’ve keeled over at the drop of a hat… And then when I finally, FINALLY thought I'd gotten past it, I started feeling... weird."

F0rd tore off a couple strips of medical tape to secure the wrapping. "Weird?..," he repeated.

"Well... it was hard to place the words at the time, but the best way I could describe it was that it kinda felt like my insides were rearranging themselves. It spooked me enough to seek out a back alley physician, anyway.”

It took everything in him for F0rd to hold his tongue at that revelation, but he stayed silent as his brother explained.

“Didn't have high hopes for an accurate diagnosis, but... Well, how hard would a basic check up be?? Worst case scenario I either got an answer or I didn’t. Not to mention he was dirt cheap. Beggars can't be choosers…” He made an ironically amused sound, “So imagine my surprise when the doc told me I was roughly 18 weeks..."

“I… imagine that news wasn’t exactly anticipated…”

St@nley shook his head lightly. "Needless to say, I called the guy a quack and left. I didn’t want to believe it at first... I couldn’t… Hell, it’s not like I even showed that much. I mean, I’ve always had some heft to my person, so a little extra gut didn’t make me question anything… But considering everything that lead up to then… it all sorta lined up... Then wouldn't ya know it, a handful of positive corner store pregnancy tests later… turned out the fucker was right."

F0rd finished checking over the bandaging before finally pulling out a chair to sit across from his brother, folding his arms over the table (atop the journal, St@nley noted, still somewhat guarded in manner). His eyes, though exhausted and bothered, remained inquisitive. “So, then… that sensation you were talking about?.. Was that..?”

"Oh… yeah,” St@n lightly chuckled, giving the side of his belly a gentle pat, “that was just junior here figuring out they have legs… and they have NOT let me forget it, either." The small smile on his face faltered. "But, uh... yeah… I've been trying to keep track of the weeks ever since..."

F0rd hummed his acknowledgement, nodding lightly as he processed the information he'd just been given. Then another question, though it was more of an observation in the form of a question. "You've been going about this alone, haven’t you?…"

St@nley lulled his head to the side, his tired expression wordlessly yet clearly asking, 'What's it look like, genius?..’

He pointedly left it at that. Then F0rd’s face fell as another revelation came to mind. "Wait.... You've not been to a doctor SINCE?? It's January, St@nley! That means..." He paused, brows furrowing as he only now took the time to do the math. "Oh my God, you're-"

“‘About to pop,’" St@n finished as he pulled his shirt back down over his torso (a task easier said than done). "Yes, I'm WELL aware of that notion, poindexter. Glad we’re clear on that."

“But what if something happened? What if something went wrong?? You could’ve been seriously hurt, you knucklehead!” F0rd scolded, gesturing vaguely in his brother’s direction. “Or WORSE!!”

"Don’t you think I KNOW that??!" St@n sighed, trying to reign in the sudden burst of frustration. "Look, I... I've not exactly had the luxury of having prenatal care at my disposal, alright?.. I went to a friggin' doc in a box ONE other time for anemia and it took about every penny I had to my name. Believe me, had the option been available to me, I would've made a point to go in a heartbeat… but if I expected to make ends meet on a day to day basis..,” he hung his head lower, eyeing the floor, “… there was just no way..."

F0rd let out a tense breath. "I'm just saying... It's not a good idea to let a pregnancy go unchecked for so long. And then coming all the way out here was dangerous... Who knows who or what you could've run into on the way??"

"Eh... it's arguably safer than where I was before... In fact, if I'm being completely honest, this trip might've just saved my life..." he admitted, his free hand absentmindedly cradling the underside of his belly, "or at least bought me some time..."

"What's that supposed to mean??"

St@n debated over whether or not he should open that can of worms... so he decided he'd keep it brief. "Let's just say I was half expecting to get my head caved in any day now, had I decided to stick around Dead End..." He cast a glance that suggested the subject be dropped.

F0rd's eyes briefly widened in unease. He then pressed them shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Dear God, St@nley..," he sighed. He didn’t even have it in him right then to ask for any further elaboration.

The room was quiet during their intermission, as they gave themselves time to debrief.

Then, allowing himself an intentionally long, drawn out breath, St@nley leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Alright, your turn."

"Hm?" F0rd looked back up warily.

"I gave you my sob story, let's hear yours!"

"'Sob story?'” his tone took an air of offense to it, “I’ll have you know this is a very serious matter!"

“So I've heard…”

F0rd scowled at the blatant sarcasm. “I mean it, St@nley! This is something so much bigger than you or I! It could mean the end of effectively everything as we know it!”

"Okay then, ENLIGHTEN me! It's what I've been trying to get you to do this whole friggin’ time! Just tell me what’s going on, without all the cryptic bullshit! Why did you need me to come here just to send me away again, Stanf0rd?" He quickly reached for and snatched the journal out from under his brother's arms, waving it carelessly in front of him. "And what's so damn important about this book that you need it gone but not destroyed?? If it's SO dangerous, why not just shred the thing??" He punctuated his short tangent by dropping the leatherback loudly in the center of the table, the booming sound making his brother flinch.

"I already told you!" F0rd said as he picked it back up with both hands, "The information recorded in these journals is much too valuable to destroy. However, to ensure it stays out of the wrong hands, it must be taken away from here... it could be disastrous if that happens... And the only other person that I could have entrusted to take it flat out refuses to speak to me!..," his gaze landed on the journal he held, his reflection stared back from the emblem in the center. "... You were my last resort... The last hope I have of ever fixing the mess I've caused..." He looked back up to his brother. "And that's why it's of the utmost importance to take this thing FAR away from here as SOON as humanly possible!"

"Mm-hm..." St@n ran his hands along the length of his face. “Yeah, see, I just don’t understand what good squirreling this thing away in some hole on the other side of the planet is gonna do. 'Bury it where no one can find it??' I could just chuck this thing over a mountainside in the Rockies and it'd be dealt with!" He readjusted himself in his seat, straightening up. "But more importantly, what I'd like to know is who these 'wrong hands' are referring to. The mob? The government?? Are you saying someone's got a hit on you??"

Stanf0rd groaned, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "You don't get it, St@nley..."

‘When do I ever?..,’ he thought bitterly, his patience growing ever thinner the longer he prodded. He swore he could get more answers out of a goddamn brick wall.

"It HAS to be taken far enough away that it can't be stumbled upon by just any passersby. And if I were to go hide it myself, I'd be wasting valuable time that I need to prepare for what's coming! I have to make it out to the ruins before the snowfall covers the only entrance to the caves! And if I don't go IMMEDIATELY, there might not be another chance to do anything before..,” might as well not beat around the bush any longer, “he brings forth complete and utter chaos!"

At that, there was a beat… then St@nley made a tired noise, rubbing his temples. “Okay… alright… cool…” His head was beginning to hurt now. "Juuuust leave it to ol' S1xer to make the explanation confusing-"

“Do NOT call me by that name!!” came a sudden, visceral interjection, making St@n nearly jump out of his skin.

All the energy in the room came to a screeching halt.

Breathing heavily for a minute, and seeing the startled confusion etched into his brother’s face, F0rd realized he'd lashed out and visibly shrunk in his seat. "I... sorry, it's not... that wasn’t… y-you didn't know, I... Gosh, I'm sorry..." he babbled, avoiding eye contact, "I don't know what came over me..." The shame he felt was unbearable… To think he let himself get so worked up over something so silly as a nickname… all because of-…

It was only when the sound of his brother gently rapping on the table, to get his attention, registered that he dared look back up to face him.

As he leaned forward on the table, arms folded tightly underneath him, St@nley's demeanor had shifted… no trace of sarcasm left to be seen. "Who did this to you, F0rd?..." There was an intensity in his voice that was equal parts steadying and intimidating, his eyes meeting his brother's and locking. Though it obviously wasn't directed at himself, F0rd could swear there was a murderous glint in that gaze... “Who's threatening you?... Who scared you so badly that you're taking these drastic measures??..."

"I..." F0rd suddenly felt so transparent, like he was being read like a book… Somehow St@nley had managed to just about hit the nail on the head… He covered his face, beginning to feel overwhelmed. There was so much he wanted to explain in full... but could he without endangering either his brother or himself?? Or rather, could he explain himself without sounding like a total madman??

“Who used that name and tarnished it, Stanf0rd??…”

“I-I..,” he stuttered, breaking, "I can't... Th-There's simply no way for me to explain everything for you to understand!"

"Then HELP me to understand!” St@nley pleaded, at his wits’ end. It hurt him so badly to see his brother so utterly tormented with no way for him to get through to or comfort him. He HAD to get through to him… somehow! “HELP me! I’m really, really, REALLY tryin’ here, F0rd, but you're not giving me anything to work off of! I sound like a fucking broken record saying this shit! I care about you, you dumbass, I’m your BROTHER! So you can't keep leaving me in the dark! You have to trust me! Please just trust me, Stanf0rd!"

Trust me...

Those two little words that he’d heard time and time again… those two words that, to him, had lost every ounce of sincerity due to the sheer amount they’d been used and squandered by so very many people in his life… Hearing those two words suddenly agitated F0rd to no end.

He looked his brother in the face and scoffed, "OH, no! NO!! YOU, of all people, don't get to go preaching to ME about TRUST, Mr. 'Buy my products, they won't do you wrong! I'm just your humble, neighborhood salesman who ISN’T a shyster whatsoever! Did I tell you to buy my products yet??’”

The deer-in-the-headlights look St@n gave him only managed to light a fire under him as he desperately took the chance to redirect the attention away from himself.

"Yeah, that’s right, St@nley! Or should I refer to you by one of your ridiculous aliases like 'P@nley St1ne's??' … 'P@NLEY,' St@nley?! You couldn't come up with anything better than that?!" He shook his head, getting sidetracked, "My point is, I've seen what you've been up to over the years! In fact there's been no way to avoid seeing it! I've seen the ads in the papers! The commercials! The... 'products,' if you could even call them that! I've SEEN how you've scammed people! How you’ve LIED to people! Hell, if I didn't just see your bare belly l'd have half a mind to assume you stuffed a damn pillow up your shirt in a shoddy attempt to fool me!"

St@nley stared at him in disbelief, mouth slightly agape. The rest of what his brother said hurt well enough, but that last part?? "What in the-... Where on EARTH did you get that idea, Stanf0rd?? Do you you realize how completely DEMEANING that accusation is?? What could I possibly hope to gain?? Faking THIS??" he exclaimed, aggressively gesturing to himself with his hands bracketing his burgeoning middle.

"I don't know, SYMPATHY?? Some twisted method of MANIPULATION?? Seems like something a con-man such as yourself wouldn't think twice about exploiting!"

St@n reeled back as though he'd been struck. That one got him. "... Is that really what you think of me??..,” came an uncharacteristically quiet tone, "Do you really think I'd try and pull a fast one on you in your time of need??..."

As much as he hated himself for it, as much as F0rd KNEW he shouldn’t say it, the instinctive desire to get the last word in overruled whatever rational response he should have spouted… and a venomous response slipped out before he could stop himself. “... Frankly, I wouldn't put it past you..."

St@nley stared down at the floor for several moments, processing everything that had just been laid out before him. To think his own brother thought so little of him... Sure, what he'd said was vaguely in line with the truth, regarding his grifting record. Conning strangers for his own benefit was one thing, albeit not a great thing and certainly not something he was proud of, but it was something he simply had to resort to to make ANY kind of basic living… To trick his family though?... his own BROTHER?? To suggest he'd even go so far as to fake a pregnancy of all things just to tug at his heartstrings... that was a low even he didn't think he could bring himself to sink to.

In that moment, it was made clear to him; After everything he suffered for, everything he tried in vain to atone for, and after over a DECADE of radio silence... his brother still held to that idea that he was this selfish, deceitful, untrustworthy monster...

The regret was immediate as soon as the words left Stanf0rd’s lips. Why’d he have to go and say that? With stakes as high as they were, for more reasons than one, stirring the pot was the last thing he needed to do and yet… "I... St@nley, I... I-I didn't mean-…"

After a minute of brooding, St@n scooped his jacket off the floor, snaking his arms back through it's sleeves as he finally stood up from his chair. "Y'know what? That's it. I don’t care anymore. I'm done."

“'Done??' What do you mean 'DONE??'” His eyes keenly followed him as he passed by. "St@nley, where are you going?"

"What’s it to you? It’s not like you actually wanted me here. After all, I was your last resort, right?” his voice was monotone as he made his way to the front door… empty… hurt… “As always, Stanf0rd Filbr1ck P1nes, you were right. I shouldn’t ‘ve come… I shouldn’t ‘ve bothered…”

Stanf0rd immediately got up and grasped the fabric of St@n’s sleeve, holding him in place. “Now hang on a minute, would you please just listen to me for a second??”

Try as he had to keep the rage bottled up, that was the last straw. “Yeah, sure... Or how 'bout this?” Smacking the hand off his jacket sleeve, St@nley turned on his heel, scornfully wagging his pointer finger in his brother's face, prompting the latter to back up a step. “You listen here, and you listen GOOD, smartass! I don't need you lecturing me, REMINDING me of how shitty a person I am! I KNOW I'M A SCREW UP, STANF0RD! I KNOW that!! Preaching to the freakin' choir on that front!" He looked down at himself and laughed a humorless laugh. "I mean hell, just LOOK at me! I'm knocked up with some bastard-not-worth-the-air-he-breathes' bastard! All with no place to call home! That's fuck up incarnate, amirite??"

F0rd began to respond but was abruptly cut off.

“And here’s another thing you were right about; the WHOLE-ASS drive up here and how much it absolutely SUCKED! Over thirteen-fucking-HUNDRED miles on the road is no place to be when you’re essentially a walking, talking time bomb! The whole drive, the whole drive, I've had this crippling, nagging fear at the back of my brain telling me I’d likely end up hopelessly lost! Or, better YET, reminding me of the possibility that I’d might have to pull over at some point and spit this kid out on the side of the road without any help! Do you know how terrifying that thought was, F0rd?? When you’re trying to navigate those insanely long back roads nobody knows about, all on your own?? And all for the sake of showing up when your brother asked for you to, because you foolishly thought he actually NEEDED you?? OF COURSE YOU DON’T!! Cuz that WASN'T you, that wasn't YOUR problem, and thus it doesn’t MATTER!! The world revolves around YOU, and anyone else's issues can go ahead and take a back seat for all you care, isn’t that right??"

“St@nley, stop it! You’re becoming hysterical!” F0rd attempted to reason, wanting desperately to diffuse the situation… Needless to say, it was fruitless…

“NO!! Because you wanna know what else?? NEWSFLASH, brother, YOU'RE not perfect either! You act like you're ‘God's gift to the populace’ or something when you're NOT! It's not like you ever bothered to help ME out when I needed somebody! I’ve only ever had myself for the better part of 10 years, so it would’ve been nice for you to, I dunno, check in once or twice! Or at least a throw out some bullshit 'Hey, bro! Hope you're alive and doing alright! I can't talk or meet with you right now, and frankly I probably don't WANT to, but I hope you know l've not forgotten about you and that somewhere deep down I still love you! Take care, St@nley!' for some semblance of caring! Just SOMETHING!! Some acknowledgment that I EXIST!! That-That I’m not just a-a-a STAIN left behind!! So WHY?? Why did I care?? Why did I think-..?!" He froze when his voice suddenly cracked, cutting him off before he could continue.

Now noticing how hazy his vision had become, how shaky his hands were, he was horrified to realize that he'd burst into tears partway through his rant. All the repressed emotions were starting to show face... 'Humiliated' couldn't even BEGIN to cover how he felt right then... And when he finally studied the expression F0rd currently wore, he felt like he might vomit.

That all too familiar look of pure, unadulterated… pity… The physical embodiment of ‘Oh you poor, pathetic thing...’

St@nley DESPISED that look… It’d been one he’d received countless, countless times in his life. And while he knew that more often than not the intent behind that expression was never truly out of ill meaning, the immense degradation it brought him was suffocating. He couldn’t bear to see it another second… especially coming from his own flesh and blood. He squeezed his eyes shut to escape it.

F0rd, meanwhile, was at a complete loss for words. What could he say? What should he say?? How could he explain the sheer magnitude of what’s been going on that didn’t sound like the utter ramblings of a man who’s lost his mind?? How could he convince St@nley to put aside their personal issues for a second and help aid him in fixing this mess?? Important things needed attending to!! This was a matter of the fate of the WORLD, dammit!! The livelihood of effectively EVERYONE!!

But then… his brother’s points made him reflect… What of his brother’s woes?… St@nley’s woes??... The woes of the person who, at one point in time, meant MORE to him than the world itself??… Did they not matter in the grander scheme?? The hardships St@nley had gone through completely alone, left unbeknownst to him just because he… couldn't bring himself to reach out and see how his brother was actually doing?.. Simply because he couldn't bear the thought of truly knowing how rough he had it in life while they were apart?..

Assuming St@nley was just wandering aimlessly around all this time, without a care or ounce of respect for anyone in the world, made ignoring those painful thoughts so much easier... Knowing what he did now, he suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

For so long, Stanf0rd had spent every waking hour pouring over his research, dragging himself along through countless sleepless nights, pushing anyone and everyone away... out of his mind... out of his heart... all to combat an omniscient evil he still frustratingly… didn’t quite understand yet, himself... His work had completely and utterly consumed him. He’d lost sight of what few allies he had… He'd lost sight of his family… And loathe as he was to admit it, perhaps in this mission to ‘save humanity,’ he actually lost sight of his own…

As he concluded his thought, one thing was made painfully clear… Somehow, one way or another, both his brother and himself had each come to face some form of isolation…

They really were two sides of the same coin...

Taking a moment to steel himself again, St@n pressed the heel of his hand against one eye and then the other, wiping away the tears that managed to run down his cheeks. "I should've known better than to think I could ever be of any help to you... of any value to you... So I’ll do you the courtesy of getting the hell outta your hair. For good this time.”

“St@nley…”

“Can it!” St@nley swiftly snatched the duffle bag off the floor and turned to grab the doorknob, then called out over his shoulder. "Oh yeah, one last thing! Thank you EVER so much for the new 'tattoo!' What better souvenir to remember your estranged brother by than one that's been burned directly into your skin, eh? Your hospitality is truly unmatched, Stanf0rd. TRULY." He re-zipped his jacket and yanked the door open. "See ya never, fuck head," he spat before he slammed the door behind him.

"Hey! HEY!! St@nley, WAIT!!" F0rd followed close behind, storming his way to the door and ripping it back open about as quickly as it was shut. "Damnit St@nley, would you just hold on a second and hear me out-AH!.," he gasped, flinching when he'd almost ran into his brother from behind.

St@n had stopped short on the porch, motionless.

Huffing, he sternly maneuvered around to the right of his brother to face him from the side. “Please, think rationally! You know as well as I do that you have no business running around in the condition you’re in! Look, I get that you’re upset, alright?? I’m sorry! I really am! But you can’t just skip off and..,” he trailed off when he realized St@n was staring straight ahead over the front yard, the look on his face unreadable. He tentatively followed the trajectory of his line of sight, only to freeze in place himself. “… leave…”

Their wide eyed expressions mirrored each other’s, standing parallel as they both gazed at the sight before them.

Snow had piled up by several feet. MUCH higher than it had been earlier . Within just a few hours it had gone from knee height to probably high enough to halfway submerge a person. In the distance, only the rough shape of El Diablo was visible, having a thick cocoon of snow encompassing the body of the vehicle.

And the snow just KEPT coming.

There was no getting out in that…

St@n groaned defeatedly, burying his face in his hands. “Whatever higher power has it out for me can kindly kiss my ass…”

TBC

[palskippah]

Hi! @hyperfixatingonbowuigisohard had this idea of Mr. L but preggy and I loved it jsdisd

I know nearly nothing of this game, but here's some ideas anyways for it!

-Mr L does his little presentation number, turning around, balancing his weight on one foot, and almost giving Bowser a heart attack when he clearly was barely keeping his balance, fearing that his husband would stumble and fall.

-Bowser immediately recognizes him, and Peach mutters to herself that Mr L reminds her strongly of someone, but she's not sure who. Bowser looks at her in disbelief, not sure if she's messing with him or not.

>Mario doesn't recognize Luigi at all at first, and Bowser genuinely asks him if he's an idiot. That's clearly Luigi! Same hat (a bit different though) and his overalls (although darker...) and that's his mustache! (looking as dashing as ever, by the way), and he's exactly as pregnant as Luigi! (Mario signs that Luigi isn't the only pregnant person in the world, and Bowser gets exasperated).

>Bowser keeps trying to convince Mario to not fight his expectant husband (AKA, Mario's brother!), and even if it wasn't Luigi, the man was clearly very pregnant, how was he going to fight him?!

>Mr L overhears and takes it personally, jumping into battle. He loses, of course. And when he's on the ground, tired and out of breath (from what Bowser's just sure is just the baby tiring him up, because Mario was really tame on his attacks), the koopa hands him a Shroom Shake so he feels better, and Mr L angrily accepts it and then sends Bowser straight to hell. When he tries to stand up and fails miserably, he lets the koopa help him to his feet, and then sends him to hell again and leaves, to work on his Brobot. (I can't remember what else happens during that fight asdkaj)

>I can't remember how Mr L leaves after the first battle, but imagine he's waddling very slowly away and Bowser's like 'Babe?? Luigi?? Please come back :C' and Luigi is literally within arm reach (especially for Bowser), but he's also very angry and telling the koopa weirdo (AKA, King Corny, King Incompetent, Mr wrappedaroundyourhusbandsfinger, King Bootlicker) to back off or he'll kill him. And well, Luigi is very capable of doing anything, and this is a brainwashed, evil Luigi, so the koopa isn't taking any chances. And the 'Green Thunder' is even more cranky because Mario didn't even break a sweat and Mr L was all huffing and puffing when the battle ended. The whole waddle away, when he wasn't insulting Bowser, Mr L muttered to himself about the stupid huge baby that didn't let him do anything and the horrors of motherhood and pregnancy.

-Mr L doesn't care for the baby, because he just came to existence and found himself heavily pregnant. He doesn't know this baby; he doesn't feel anything for them! But still there's the muscle memory or maybe it's the feelings that Luigi has for the little thing or something, because sometimes Mr L would find that he had been stroking his own belly or resting his hand on it. He'd move his hand away as if burned, and quickly look around hoping none of Count Bleck's other minions saw him showing such weakness, feeling embarrassed.

-Normally Bowser is all over Luigi to be of assistance for anything he may need, to, y'know, make his life easier now that he's pregnant. And Luigi is always glad that he has his husband right there to take care of him, but that is not the case with Mr L. He's angry that the idiot koopa thinks that he needs to be monitored like a baby, when he can take perfectly good care of himself! But also, he claims so and all, but is clearly struggling.

>Like at some moment he presents his brobot control remote (or something? How does he even summon that robot?) and then accidentally drops it. All of them, Mario, Peach, Bowser and Mr L stare at it for a few seconds. When Bowser makes a movement of going forward to pick it for him, the green one swats him away, he can pick it up himself, thanks fucking very much. Cue Mr L doing the pitiful preggy crouch while Mario and Peach pointedly don't look (after he yells that they can stop staring!) and Bowser tries to get closer to just pick the damn thing himself so Luigi can stop straining himself (getting yelled at in return).

-On Super Dimentio form, know that brainwashed Luigi (Mr. L) and Dimentio don't give a single shit about the baby, the first obviously having the set goal of being of assistance to Dimentio or whatevs, and the late one wanting to fulfill the prophecy. But well, Luigi sure does, so he subconsciously makes sure to protect his bebi Magma. The new form is huge, but the baby is still normal sized, it's just that Luigi made sure to give them some extra padding because it looked like they'd need it to be safe.

>By the way, the idea of one side of his face being a crying Luigi and the other being Dimentio is directly from @galaxygermdraws' design of Super Dimentio which is so cool :'''v

>Super Dimentio form may have only some physical characteristics of Luigi and only Dimentio's mind controlling it, but Luigi has been pregnant for many months now, and he can't help muscle memory, so the Super Dimentio form waddles like he does, and maybe Mario, Peach and Bowser would find it funny, if they weren't so horrified by the whole ordeal and the huge hands trying to squish them like bugs.

-As soon as Luigi is out of the Super Dimentio form, he's lying on the ground and wiping the streak of tears from the only cheek that has them, while wondering aloud why is he crying and on his side on the floor, and the next second after that, he's wrapped in Bowser's arms and Mario's holding his hand and Peach is touching his face, all of them fretting over him, while Luigi doesn't know what has them with such worried expressions, or why Bowser's weeping so much.

-If before Bowser was all over him, since the whole Chaos Heart ordeal he doesn't take his eyes away from Luigi, neither does Mario, who's glued to him for long weeks until he can feel that his brother is going to be alright.

>Anyways, baby's born, they're all happy yey :D Also pls look at that paper Magma I drew, that's my best drawing up to date.

ALSO alternate thing where the Chaos Heart remained with the baby in some weird way, but they don't notice because she's literally just a baby but she has the potential to destroy the universe, but Magma never does because she's a chill girl her whole life who doesn't have reasons to unleash the doom of the universe JSJDK silly idea in the same way that Luigi -the bestest guy around- is supposed to help destroy everything (??? or something like that I read somewhere? Maybe it was a headcanon aksdladk)

Thanks if you read till here!

[smallermangoes]

"Nngah... Oshi-san, m'pregnant... 😭"

This is 100% a shitpost that I spent way too much time on. You know that one Mika card where it looks like he's holding up a pregnancy test? Yeah I had to draw it. (Also everyone who headcanons Mika as transmasc is correct)

This one ⬇️

Bonus:

[hedwig221b]

[narrator's voice] Derek is not human, despite what Stiles thinks. Derek also knows something that Stiles doesn't - that Stiles is pregnant

read full version

Cold blood slithered down his forearms to his elbows and dripped on the floor. His hands were slick with it, oily with all the fat that saturated the flesh.

His sharpened teeth dug into the meat and tore chunks of it out. He swallowed it almost without chewing, so hungry he was. The sounds felt too loud in the silence of the night, the whirring of the fridge the only accompaniment to his long-awaited feast.

It didn’t matter that he was used to the hot flesh. No, this was good, too, even with the faint notes of grass throughout—

“Stiles?”

Stiles froze.

Suddenly, he saw everything — the opened fridge, the dim light from inside; he felt the cold kitchen tiles under his bare feet, the chill that stuck to his skin. Something cold and soft and slick in his hands.

Stiles let it go.

The half-eaten steak smacked onto the floor right between his feet.

No. No, no, no.

Stiles didn’t want to turn, deathly afraid of what might happen after. He just stood there, staring at the meat, waiting for Derek to shout, to yell, to call him insane and kick him out—

Strong hands grabbed him by the shoulders and turned his body away from the fridge. Familiar hands cupped his undoubtedly pale and bloody face and turned up.

Derek’s wide eyes were full to the brim with concern.

He will leave, he will leave, he will leave.

“Baby, listen to me, it’s okay.”

Stiles opened his mouth to talk, but the taste chose this exact moment to remind him about what he had just done. Everything tasted like meat, like blood.

Whatever expression he had on his face made Derek frown even harder. The man shook him a little.

“Focus on me, Stiles. It’s okay. It’s fine. I’m here. It was probably a dream, that’s all.”

That was no dream.

Stiles didn’t remember waking up or walking to the kitchen. If Derek didn’t snap him out of it, he could’ve… could’ve…

“Come here, sweetheart.” Gently, oh so gently, Derek took his wrists and led him to the sink. He washed Stiles’ hands himself, holding them as if they were more fragile and thinner than crystal.

Stiles watched his hands move and barely had any feeling in his own. He was only vaguely aware of the wall of heat that was Derek’s body in front of him, of his muscles flexing under his movements, of the edge of his clenched jaw.

What had he done?

“That’s it,” said Derek, turning off the water. He dried his hands, then led him to the bar stool, helping him up. “Come on, arms up.”

Stiles lifted his arms as if in a trance. He didn’t understand why Derek asked him that at first, but then felt the cold seep into his skin as the man took off his shirt.

Oh. Right. It was probably covered in blood, too.

Derek’s shadow disappeared then returned a couple of seconds later. Something warm and wet touched his face — his own t-shirt, Stiles realized. Derek was cleaning his face. From chunks of meat, fat, and blood.

Stiles lifted his eyes.

Derek met his gaze for a fraction of a second, then returned to cleaning.

“Derek.”

“Shh.”

Stiles shut up. His eyes stung, and his whole body was breaking out in shivers.

Derek noticed, of course, always weirdly attuned to Stiles’ body. Putting the t-shirt aside, he hopped over into the living room and came back with a blanket in his hands, which he then promptly put around Stiles.

God, he probably thought Stiles was such a fucking freak. Derek was probably in shock himself.

“On a scale of one to ten,” said Stiles in a shaking voice, “how much do you want me to leave and never come back?”

He was probably going to be told to pack his things in three, two—

Stiles didn’t expect Derek to step between his spread legs and sweep him into a tight hug.

Fuck, he didn’t need to add tears to the horror scene, not now.

“Never joke about it,” said Derek into his ear, grabbing his waist harder. “Never.”

“But—”

“I swear to god, if I have to lock you inside, I would.”

Stiles wanted to curl into himself from the heaviness of his voice. He dug his fingers into Derek’s shoulders and sagged against him with his chin against the man’s shoulder.

“So we’re going to, like, pretend nothing happened? Is that what you mean?” he asked.

“No. No, of course, not. Look at yourself, you’re trembling like a leaf.” Derek rubbed his back as if it would help. As if anything would help. “I told you, it’s okay. You’ve just had a very intense dream and sleepwalked.”

Oh, Derek. Stiles was honestly flattered and a little bit horrified by the lengths Derek was willing to go to delude himself into thinking Stiles was normal.

Fuck, Derek was such a naive human. Stiles couldn’t let him think that. It was simply dangerous.

“Derek, sleepwalking or not, you cannot tell me it wasn’t freaky.”

“It’s not.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake—”

“And it’s my fault anyway.”

“How the fuck was that—”

“How are you feeling?” Not listening to a word he said, Derek put his palm against Stiles’ stomach, rubbing the skin with his thumb. “Nausea? Pain?”

“N-no?”

“Do you still want to eat?”

Now Stiles really looked at him. What was he supposed to say? Wasn’t that kind of a strange question? Stiles was, like, fifty percent sure that when humans got food poisoning they were put on a diet of chicken broth and crackers. Did Derek think he had just got poisoned?

What was he supposed to say?

“Uhh,” Stiles blinked at him. Well, maybe if he went for the truth… Derek was human after all, he had to know what to do. “Kind of?”

“Okay, that is fine.” Derek nodded at him as if talking to an idiot. “Sit here, baby, okay? Just relax. I’m going to cook something for you.”

After pressing a light apologetic kiss on Stiles’ forehead, Derek left him sitting alone. Stiles watched in confusion (mixed with something shaking, warm, and aching) as he marched to the fridge, took something out, then plopped the pan right on the stove.

He always loved watching Derek cook. He did it with a strange grace, his movements quick but precise. The muscles on his back and shoulders played delicately in the low warm light; his grey pants rode low on his hips. Derek was cooking for him.

For him.

Stiles crossed his arms on the table and laid his forehead on his hands.

Breathing, listening. Trying not to fall apart completely.

He didn’t deserve this man. Never did and never will.

Something hissed and sizzled. Fat or oil bubbled on the hot surface, sputtering droplets everywhere. Soon, the kitchen filled with a delicious smell of…

Grilled meat?

Stiles looked up.

Derek stood by the stove, leaning with one hand on the counter, and holding the steak with tongs in another. He remained silent as he cooked, turning the meat and pressing it on all sides. Shoved it in the oven, then stared with a blank faraway gaze at the stove as it cooked. Took it out after a few minutes, back into the pan, basting it with butter, garlic, and some herbs.

Not a single word, until…

“Here.”

…a plate with a perfectly grilled juicy rare steak was put in front of him.

Stiles stared at the bronzed buttered surface of the meat, then swallowed the spit that instantly filled his mouth.

He licked his lips, cleared his throat, then turned a hesitant gaze up at Derek, who was watching him like a hawk.

“I can eat it?”

Derek’s eyes drilled into his.

“I cooked it for you.”

Stiles wiggled in his seat. “Yeah, no, I meant…” he had to keep his act as a human so Derek would have to bear stupid questions. “Can I eat it so soon after?..”

Derek was… yep, still staring. “Kitten,” he started with a strange smile on his lips that didn’t match his wild gaze, “you bet your pretty ass you can eat anything I put in front of you. I’ll always give you the best. That steak you ate? “Premium” doesn’t begin to cover it. I’m also quite sure that your stomach can handle it. You’re human, yes, but you’re still a predator.”

Stiles’ whole body went still as a statue.

Does he kn—

No. No, stupid, how would he fucking know? If Derek knew what kind of predator Stiles really was, he would run away instead of trying to soothe him with a treat.

“I know what you need, Stiles,” Derek added, a touch softer than before. “Eat.”

Derek had no idea what Stiles needed. However, this time, he guessed right.

Stiles licked his lips discreetly, pushed the plate towards himself, and began eating.

He ate the whole thing under Derek’s heavy stare. When Stiles offered him the bite, he only stretched his lips in this secretive smile of his, this time full of… pride? Satisfaction? Pleasure? Whatever it was, Derek refused.

If only Stiles allowed himself to dream, it would be of this. Of Derek accepting him for who he was. A predator.

Yet, usually, the human-eating predators didn’t have the same respect as others. And no matter how much it was romanticized, Stiles did not want to die from his lover’s hand.

[333noxh]

uhhhh farz murphy wip for a shitpost uhhhhhhh

I initially tanned him too much, just like when I first drew akira but I correct his skin tone to be lighter like his btd2 sprite.

[silverstark]

Fic Completed: Baby's First Diplomatic (Disaster) Dinner

Title: "Baby's First Diplomatic (Disaster) Dinner"

SVSSS; BingQiu; 9,665 words; Rated T; Canon Divergence; (post) Mpreg; Original Baby Character;

Summary:

After the plague at Jinlan City is resolved, the governor hosts a feast to celebrate the city's survival and to thank their saviors. Shen Qingqiu is part of the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect delegation sent to graciously accept the governor's thanks. He brings his daughter, of course: She is too young to be away from her mother for longer than a couple of hours. The Huan Hua Palace Sect delegation brings their own surprise as well as their opinions. -x-x-x- Note: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS for canon-typical story elements.

Read it on Ao3 (Registered Users Only)

[dailydegurechaff]

Today's Daily Degurechaff is… the mortifying ordeal of being reminded of something embarrassing

[frownyalfred]

this probably isn't the most appropriate ask to send you while you're still mourning (sorry) but how do boobs work in your omegaverse universe? cause I was thinking about diana and I definitely envision her as an alpha but would she have boobs? or is it only omegas who have them?

anon, I just laughed so hard I cried. I think I will need to come back to this ask, but thank you for the laugh 💜 it was well needed this week.

[tsunderedetector]

A message to people who think using AI image generation is better than real art;

I will can draw you pregnant.

[badlydrawncronus]

hi guys. do you ever autism so hard you forget to exist. Well im back . i think

Do not hold me to this

cronus says hi everyone say hii cronus

[medeaspring]

Not enough p4au junpei mpreg on this platform 😒 I have to do it myself

[artzybumpkin]

Forgive me y’all, I’m still gonna be on my G/F bullshit for a while longer(I’m in it DEEP still🥲)

But here’s a quick All@n I whipped together to show y’all he’s still on my mind too❤️

He gets emotional seeing the eensy little clothes when he’s out running errands🥺💕

[kittens-without-mittens]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Angel Dust/Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Charlie Magne | Morningstar/Vaggie Characters: Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Original Hazbin Hotel Character(s), Original Child(ren) of Alastor and Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), original children characters, Niffty (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) Additional Tags: Family Fluff, Overlord Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Overlord Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Maybe idk yet - Freeform, Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Death in Childbirth, Dead Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), guess who lives and who dies, Husk is So Done (Hazbin Hotel), Husk Has Chronic Pain, Good luck being pregnant old man, Trans Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Intersex Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), both of them have kids, Children of Characters, Author Is Sleep Deprived, No beta we die like Adam, wump Summary:

Husk finds himself pregnant, pair that with the other kids in the relationship, it's a mess.

[scribbsyscribs]

@boldlygreatsuit Ayyyy you got a minute to let me stomp on your heart some more?

Btw, the amazing person I tagged up there, made the most absolutely gorgeous art for chapter 1, highly recommend checking it out if you vibe with what we're throwing down here.

[dani-in-the-daniverse]

I want to write a fic about how hualian conceived their first daughter (no not like that lmao). Getting into the fertility pill and ghost reproduction lore, how the pregnancy would affect xie lian’s body and health, the birth process… but it would be very plot heavy.

(Also the reason why they decide hua cheng would carry their baby boy next)

It would be a bit like the bella/renesmee situation. For reasons related to how the ghost pills work, the baby girl is demonic in nature. Xie lian is a god, so his spiritual power starts rejecting the baby’s once she’s formed enough to produce it. The solution he finds? Putting a cursed shackle on himself, to suppress his spiritual power. Hua cheng refuses at first. He suggests an abortion, they can try again with him carrying the child instead, he’s a ghost so his body won’t reject them. Xie lian is enraged.

He yells at his husband, he cries, they have a big fight which ends with xie lian running to feng xin and mu qing’s joint palace and hua cheng sobbing, alone in their bedroom at paradise manor. They’d had arguments before, minor ones, but never a fight of this magnitude.

Xie lian returns the next morning, after an hours long conversation with his friends, and apologizes. Hua cheng in turn apologizes for suggesting such a thing.