#werepreg

Obviously ☝️🤓, the were should (accidentally?) knock up some kind of druid or life domain cleric (super fertile) (like, really fertile). That way, both of them are sure to end up with a full, growing belly. Huge litters guaranteed!

The poor human was NOT planning to get pregnant. At least not this early into their education/induction into their circle. And certainly not with werecubs. Hopefully, their god won't be too angry.

After all, how could they object to such a fertile, bulging womb? And wasn't it their magic that gave the were a matching belly?

After months of terror, the werewolf that had been killing cattle and scaring fine upstanding citizens until they stayed inside after dark, was caught by the brave knights of the realm.

They had permission to kill it, but two well-aimed arrows from their resident sharpshooter made the beast fall to its knees in agony, and it was clapped in chains instead.

Now, its howls pierced even the thickest dungeon walls, setting the guards' teeth on edge. Perhaps it was time for an execution.

The king, dead curious, decided to visit the beast alone before he had to preside over its trial.

Seeing the creature like this, it was hard to believe this sad pile of fur had caused so many headaches. At least, until it lifted its snout, nostrils flaring.

Bright red eyes, dull with pain, opened to train themselves on the king.

Mesmerised by the monster brought low, the king leaned forward.

In a flash, huge claws caught in his robes. Greasy fur dampened his screams. He waited for the inevitable rending of flesh.

It never came.

An indeterminable amount of time later, the king staggered back up the stairs. He snuck back to his rooms and crawled into bed, but he lay awake for hours, still feeling the wolf's throbbing cock between his legs.

***

The king could no longer deny it.

Months after that fateful night, something had quickened within him.

His belly was swelling with the spawn of a monster long dead.

He saw to his duties as usual, but with a dead-eyed stare that worried the court. During every audience, banquet, tournament, he could feel the twisted life inside him grow a little stronger, no matter how hard he tried to shut it out.

And now, his official robes could no longer hide his shame, his terror. The many layers of stiff, heavy fabric had been his friend these last months, but now they merely hung, uselessly, on either side of his protruding middle.

Unconsciously, the king's eyes drifted down, and he saw his changed body for the first time.

The sight of his undeniably pregnant belly was simply too much. Suddenly it was the only real thing in the room. More than real. Everything around it seemed to fade into a dream-like blur.

When he came to, the cold registered first. Next was the rich, heady smell of a forest at night.

He was in a clearing, surrounded by nothing but trees as far as the eye could see. And it could see quite far by the shimmering light of the moon.

Sound rose all around him. Something ancient whispered 'danger'. A chorus of howls rose and fell throughout the forest.

And the vile thing inside of him responded. It warped the smooth dome of his belly into impossible shapes, making the king gasp in pain and horror as he fell to his hands and knees.

Unable to do anything but bear it, he sobbed as the weight hanging beneath him grew heavier.

By the time the werewolves reached the clearing, he'd collapsed onto his side, chest heaving. His belly, easily doubled in size, contracted violently around its writhing inhabitants.

The next hours were the longest of his life, as he strained and pushed, vision filled with sweat and tears.

It took until the moon rose again to birth every last wretched creature.

It took three days more for the search party to find him.

Soon, he was back in his palace, under the care of more healers and servants than he could count, all trying to reassure him his ordeal was over; he was safe now.

He told them how wrong they were.

They didn't believe him.

They could not imagine what had grown in his womb. They hadn't heard the she-wolf's words, but he couldn't stop hearing them.

Woven into his every nightmare was a heinous beast, drool running out of its maw as it spoke in an almost-human voice:

You took he who was ours. Chained him, wounded him, killed him. And yet part of him lives on. You have been claimed more thoroughly than you yet realise, kin-slayer. Soon his young will quicken in you again, and the full moon will deliver them to us. You can't hide from that which lives inside you.

Older wizard with a taste for werecreatures goes out once a month to get fucked under the full moon by whatever's prowling around.

One night, he gets lucky when a werewolf and a werebear, much more interested in mating a wizard than fighting each other, cross his path.

Five months later, the wizard gives in and visits the court physician.

The physician takes one look at the wizard and gives him the obvious diagnosis, which is immediately waved away by his reluctant patient.

Pregnant? At his age?

Sure, he's felt out of sorts for weeks, and now his belly is so swollen and upset it feels like something's kicking in there, but that doesn't mean there actually is!

His mind's eye lands on all the different weres that have filled him up in the last few months...

But they're not even human!

That settles it, he can't be pregnant. There must be something else.

The physician, after watching his words hurtle around the stunned wizard's brain for a few minutes, gently suggests a magical peek into the wizard's belly.

The wizard agrees just to prove he's fine, and a few minutes later he's lying on the physician's exam table, robes pulled up to his chest, watching some druidy herby paste be applied to his belly.

From this perspective, he does look rather... round. And his roundness is very... active. So much so, in fact, that the physician is muttering something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like 'I can feel the kicks. Blasted wizards always think they're smarter than you.'

Then the ritual is done, and it's the physician's turn to be shocked into silence as he reads the results in the runes.

Eventually, he manages a 'that's not a baby.'

'Ha!'

Obviously, the stupid physician doesn't know what he's talking about.

The wizard triumphiantly shuffles off the table.

'Just give me some potion to help with the bloating, and I can go back to work.'

Eyes firmly glued to the wizard's belly (clothed once more but still visibly writhing), the physician tries to shut out the persistent images of monsters ploughing the old wizard as well as his rising temper at that wizard's attitude. How the can anyone not notice they're having... cubs? Inspiration dawns on him. Tonight should be... yes.

He smugly tells the wizard to come back tomorrow and his 'potion' will be ready.

Frowning in disappointment, the wizard nonetheless senses that it would be unwise to press the issue. Still, he had hoped to be cured before his monthly excursion tonight. He won't be making it to the forest like this.

That evening, determined to still enjoy the full moon in some way, the wizard opens the huge windows, bathing his quarters at the very top of the tower in pale white light.

Robes discarded on the floor, he makes himself comfortable on the daybed near the windows and jumps in surprise when his already quite active, rotund middle starts to thrash even more intensely. Before his very eyes, his belly grows in shocky spurts until it's doubled in size.

Stupefied, the wizard sees claws move under his skin. There must be a whole litter of werecubs in there!

A thorough investigation revealed runes around the tomb telling the tale of an unfaithful queen killed by her jealous, angry husband when he found out she was pregnant by another man.

But the ghostly presence of the queen floating before the adventurer told a different tale: she had been nothing but loyal. For years, her restless spirit had floated around the castle, trying to prove her innocence. And now a mortal had come to take on her burden, to deliver the king's rightful heirs, and she was free to finally leave this mortal coil!

The adventurer watched the ghost disappear in a flash of light, then looked down at their newly pregnant belly. It would be a slow walk back to the city.

They called upon the city's best healer, who was baffled at their predicament. All her magic and years of experience told her the adventurer wasn't really pregnant, and yet she could see their swollen belly and feel the movement inside.

She called upon a curse-breaker she knew, who was equally baffled, claiming he had never encountered such an ancient, half-decayed curse before.

The curse-breaker called upon a historian, who was baffled when shown all the rubbings they had made of the runes in the tomb, as the kingdom in question was so ancient, some believed it to be legend.

Fascinated, the three stood over the adventurer's gravid form, contributing information from their fields, formulating theories, and devising possible solutions.

It was almost midnight when they arrived at their final conclusion: the adventurer was afflicted by some sort of phantom pregnancy, by half of an ancient curse, which could be broken if not for the fact that anyone and anything involved was long gone.

In other words, there was nothing to be done.

Or was there? The adventurer wasn't keen to spend the rest of their life heavily pregnant with nothing, so what if they became pregnant with something instead? After they gave birth, their body would surely return to normal, knowing they weren't pregnant anymore.

They spent the rest of the week on their back, grinning noncommittally whenever someone said, 'Well, can't get you any more pregnant than you already are!'

How wrong they all were.

It took a while to show on the adventurer's already quite pregnant body, but when it did there was no doubt: they were carrying something real.

Multiple somethings in fact. In another twist of catastrophic luck, one of the adventurer's short-term lovers had been rather... lupine.

They went into labour early, and spent excruciating hours in the fertility temple giving birth to a full litter of cubs. As soon as they could walk, they snuck away from the midwives, leaving their unwanted offspring (the phantom and the fanged ones) behind.

Back at their rented room, they fell into bed and slept for a full day, dreaming of finally returning to their life of adventure.

They shouldn't be kicking this much, especially considering that this morning, he was barely showing. So barely, in fact, that he hadn't yet realised he was pregnant. And then the full moon rose. Now, he was trembling in his boyfriend's arms, begging him to do something about the cubs going berserk in his belly.

It takes hours for his panic to fade, and for his boyfriend's soothing words and gentle hands to get through to him. But when they do, the sun is just cresting over the horizon, and his belly is calm again, though still round and swollen.

One night, he gets lucky when a werewolf and a werebear, much more interested in mating a wizard than fighting each other, cross his path.

Three months later, the wizard gives in and visits the court physician.

Three minutes later, he storms out.

Pregnant? At his age? Absurd!

The physician watches him go, too stunned to speak, mind still on the exam he just performed.

He's never had a pregnant patient that old, it's true, but what's truly baffling him is the pregnancy itself.

Who knew the wizard had such exotic tastes?

They've met up in secret many times, when the man confesses that he is a werebear and then lifts his shirt to show the slight swell of his abdomen.

The lord's engagement and subsequent marriage were quite a surprise. The court buzzed with rumours for months, quickly proved right when the lord's new consort starts to grow around the middle.

That he is a bear sometimes was even more of a surprise, but no one can argue with the results when the new union is so very fruitful.

Soon, the lord's consort looks full term, then overdue, then hugely overdue. Then he gives birth to five very hairy babies.