#interspecies

A bee meets a beetle on a rose petal. The Adventures of Maya the Bee. 1922. Frontispiece. Illustrated by Homer Boss.

i've been reading tora wa ryuu wo mada tabenai in spanish because tsurezure no fansub is miles ahead the english scanlation (and honestly yen press kinda seems like they gave up on it, it's been around a year and they haven't announced the 5th volume yet 😔)

i still check the english translations because ironically i know english better than spanish and it always gives me a whiplash when i remember how you really can't take any translation fully at face value because they can just deadass say complete opposite things from the same original text 💀

From the chapter on cats:

"Of all people, the writer should regard the cat sympathetically, for when she was a baby of five months she was adopted by a cat. My self-elected foster-mother was Jenny, a handsome black and white cat, which at that time lost her first litter of kittens, through the attack of a savage cat from the woods. She was as Rachel crying for her children, when she seemed suddenly to comprehend that I, although larger than she, was an infant. She haunted my cradle, trying to give me milk from her own breasts; and later she brought half-killed mice and placed them enticingly in my cradle, coaxing me to play with them, a performance which pleased me much more than it did my real mother. Jenny always came to comfort me when I cried, rubbing against me, purring loudly, and licking me with her tongue in a way to drive mad the modern mother, wise as to the sources of children's internal parasites. This maternal attitude toward me lasted as long as Jenny lived, which was until I was nine years old. Never during those years did I lift my voice in wailing, that she did not come to comfort me; and even today I can remember how great that comfort was, especially when my naughtiness was the cause of my weeping, and when, therefore, I felt that the whole world, except Jenny, was against me."

Anna Botsford Comstock. Handbook of Nature-Study. 1911.

Very long time lurker, first time sending an anon over here, so, I hope you enjoy!

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Some peasant has been foolish enough to have a fling, and not just that, end up pregnant. And even more foolishly, that fling was with a goblin, their kingdom’s current enemy. They manage to hide their mistake for six months, but eventually, they get dragged before their king, labeled a traitor.

They cry and plead, but the king ignores them, exchanging a look with their court magician, as an idea sparks. Not even giving the poor pregnant traitor a word, they concoct the perfect punishment for them.

They are placed on top a stage, the court magician by their side, bound like an animal for all to see. Their belly is exposed, covered in shy green veins, the only sign of the monstrosity of its growing life, as it is surprisingly… Small. Well, considering the sire was a goblin, even if its now carrier was human, their belly looked months away from its true, sixth semester. The magician explains what this traitor has done, and soon, the rules of the game.

Double it, or give it to the next person… This traitor.

Every time someone says double, the amount of half-human half-goblin bastards in the traitor’s womb doubles. But everytime someone takes, they can choose to add things to their future labors, like additional hours of pushing, weight of their offspring, amount of babies, or even a pregnancy or multilple for themselves. At first the crowd is doubtful, but as volunteers come forth, excitement starts to overtake them.

Soon, alongside those excited to see how far this game will go, couples who’ve been struggling for years for children, or dreaming of them in the future alike are storming the stage. Alongside all types of requests, praises for their king and insults against this traitor and their monstrous brood sound all around them. The poor, squirming pregnant victim begs for mercy through tears, their belly now an overgrown squirming mass littered in deep green veins and crimson red stretch marks, but no one listens, mocking them and even taunting them instead, some even asking the magician to hold their belly while they answer “double”.

As hours pass by, the court magician lets requests become a little more merciful, allowing people to take away a babe or two from the traitor’s belly without consequence themselves. A respite that doesn’t last long, as just as quickly others tell to double, or ask for a specific number to be added. Seeing their belly shrink and grow, ondulating violently under the spell drives the few remaining present mad, and they start requesting to take away from their pregnancy just as quick as they add on. Lost in their haze, their wording not careful enough, some even take on some of the traitor’s offspring for them, not realizing the pregnancy now burderning them is also sporting those dreaded green veins beneath their shirts.

All around them, there are stalls of food and vendors, a grand event being made out of the traitor’s humilliation. Soon, the plaza becomes filled with the ripe image of fertility. Couples, singles, commoners and royals alike are wandering the stalls with bellies in all stages of growth, even those about to pop with litters, or a massive singleton, looking nowhere as big or tortured as the traitor’s womb on stage. But as some start to huff, weighted down by their new bellies, the crowd begins to clear, the tightening of their bellies a sign that this night in the kingdom will not be a quiet one…

This had been the king’s plan all along. To make a spectacle of the punishment of a traitor, and make it an event to boost their kingdom’s morale and of course… Numbers. Goblins weren’t the only enemies they had, and his people’s fertility was key to a stronger, grander kingdom, with growing generations of soldiers, spellcasters, scholars, and all else to grandify it. His own court magician had outdone himself, making sure the offspring growing within his people would be all be born heavy, overdue if necessary, powerful against their foes.

The king had been watching the event carefully from his carriage, hidden away with his queen, who’d he would have fucked right there and then if his eyes were fixed on the grand display. When most of the crowd had dispersed, only the most enthusiastic remaining, the court magician whispered with the guards, making all but those newly pregnant with phantom green veins leave. And enthusing them with more games, he attracted them all to the stage.

Meanwhile, the original traitor remained bound to the stage, huffing as their own monstrous womb squirmed endlessly, the skin stretched thin and bruised, littered in veins and stretch marks, so big it looked like they’d pop with a litter of half-giant babies right then and there… As they tried to alleviate the pressure on their pelvis, which felt like it’d crack at any moment, the dragging of their stomach against the wooden floors only made the creatures within flail more furiously. They had no idea how many they were pregnant with now, or how big they’d grow in the following months…

The king and the queen left their carriage, and came onto the stage.

The king and queen played, “taking” first, the queen’s belly suddenly growing and straining against her thick velvet dress as it surged to accomodate their firstborn and heir, which bloated her womb so heavily one would assume she’d been pregnant for at least a year or carrying multiples instead. The new weight in her core made her stumble, indecently tearing apart her clothes, and even more foul for a woman of her stature, she gave a terrible moan as the first contraction of many tightened around her belly like a vice.

The king felt a boner harden in-between his legs, but as much as he wanted to ravage his wife’s fertile form right there and then, he still had a duty to upkeep. The traitor had no idea how to react, fearing punishment or the dreaded “double”, so they staid quiet, while the few remaining pregnant peasants watched in disbelief of what they’d just witnessed. Were they even allowed to see their queen like this?… As the servants of the queen dragged her into their carriage, he turned to the court magician, answering his question again.

This time, it was a special request. He wanted one of each of the new traitor’s babies to instead transform into a growing troll.

At first, the remaining peasants laughed, expecting the pregnant traitor to bloat like a giant’s baby had been shoved inside them. But their laughs quickly turned into cries as they felt their own belly’s weight shift, bursting out of their shirts, their dresses, the green veins turning into furious grey markings that took claim of nearly every inch of their skin, their wombs burdened down by a chunky, heavy, creature that weighed many times what their already overgrown bellies would suggest. Six months, yet, they looked overdue already. One woman, who had been carrying at least three of the traitor’s bastards, tumbled to the ground as her belly completely overtook her, making her look ready to pop with sextuplets.

Crying, screaming, and demanding answers from their king, the new traitors found themselves roughly held by the guards, cold armored hands starting to rub ointments against their pregnant domes at the magician’s orders. Images of trolls danced in their minds, having heard stories of orcs using them as weapons of war, towering over trees and rivaling small breeds of giants. They’d never seen one, but the pain spread all across their cores and those horrifying stories made them terrified to try to push one of those young out of their narrow human hips. It was simply impossible, it’d destroy them, they couldn’t possibly birth two, three, they couldn’t!- But their pleads fell on deaf ears.

Ignoring them, the king instead knelt down beside the original traitor. Smirking from ear to ear, he placed a hand over the green and red overtaxed womb that’d been the start to all this. He rubbed the bruised skin, making his victim flinch, but too scared to end up pregnant with a troll too, they could only stare at their king with big, doe-eyed terrified eyes.

Certainly, there were plenty of traitors now, and their wombs carried what would certainly be his army’s crowning jewels. Goblin or troll within, they were all to be dragged down to his palace’s dungeons, where their screams would be drowned out by the levels of stone and gravel above them, but also the howling of the birthing people all across his kingdom tonight… Including his own wife. The delivery of his heir… They’d asked for just the one, but if he was lucky, perhaps there’d be a surprise twin or triplet within his queen’s womb. Perhaps, he could have a word with his magician still… The mere thought made his innards tingle, and his thoughts keep on wandering.

The following months should be interesting, as more and more of his subjects finally welp their requests… But especially when all these traitors finally start weeping their spawn into the world too. Oh, he’d be there for every birth, no matter how long, no matter if the others were forced to wait and denied the privilege to birth. Only when he’s there, savoring every moment of their struggle, would they push their spawn out of their abused tummies.

The furious squirms of the half-goblin brood he’s holding bring back to reality, and he quickly digs his fingers into the rippling flesh, refusing to lose his grip on a womb that quietly now belongs to him. Beneath the skin of his hand, he feels the innards of his unfortunate subject shift and transform, accompanied by their whimpers. Although their movement remained strong, it looks like the spawn have finally started to settle, as the peasant’s womb is no longer a misshapen mass, but a gargantuan dome that splays in every direction, forcing apart their legs and obscenely bloating their form. Oh… What a sight.

Leaning in to whisper, the king lets the original traitor know that he’ll be merciful, but considering the kindness he’s granting him, he expects him to be a loyal, obedient subject. Hopefully, today has taught him what will happen if he disobeys… And if not, he should watch the other traitors around him. And remember that this, all, of this, is their fault. The pregnant prisoner doesn’t dare reply, especially with the king’s hand moving all throughout his womb… But they lower their eyes, exhausted, humiliated, and drained of any will to fight.

Satisfied, the King speaks to his court magician, his eyes finally moving to the traitors and their troll-filled bellies. He answers for the third and final time.

Double.