but the lore is spelt with a V.

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do not follow me if you’re under 21. this is an adult’s only blog. you will be blocked.

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do not follow if you are/support:

pedophilia, romanticizing/fetishizing pedophilia, ageplay, ddlg.

transphobic; including terfs, transmedicalism, and fetishize being trans.

racist, far-right, white supremacist, etc.

homophobic or gay fetishist.

anti-abortion/pro-life.

fatphobia, or sexualization of real-life unconcenting plus-size people into your fetish. (ie. reposting a fat womans pictures who is not looking to be your fetish.)

eating disorder / pro-ana.

sending me messages trying to hit on me, engage in roleplay, or send prompts that includes me personally in any way. I am acearo, its happened many times before, and its what caused me to stop posting. do NOT do this, I do not consent to this, and you will be blocked instantly. (you cant still absolutely send me prompts, I enjoy them a lot! but please no first/second-person pov type stuff!)

also cis men you are on thin fucking ice lmao.

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kinks that are encouraged:

( hearts are ones I really like, bold are my everything )

Coming Untouched / Overstimulation. 🩷🩷

Clothing: Outgrown / Won’t fit 🩷🩷🩷🩷❤️‍🔥

Feeding / Over-Feeding / Stuffing / Bloated (Blood) 🩷🩷🩷

Emeto / Nausea / Sickness 🩷🩷

Masturbation / Mutual Masturbation. 🩷

Gore / Medical play / Surgery (Safe/Consensual only) 🩷

Pregnancy / Oviposition / Labor (Soft only) 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷❤️‍🔥

Heat / Mating Cycle / Sex Pollen 🩷🩷🩷❤️‍🔥

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kinks that are not allowed:

(do not send me any of these or you will be blocked immediately)

Age play / Underage / Daddy Kink / Incest

Beastiality

Crushing

Abuse / Noncon / Rape / Yandere

Feet

Gas / Burping / Flatulence

Hyper / Inflation / Expansion / Obesity / Bursting

IRL related (real people, roleplay requests, personal, real life photos, etc)

Shaming / Pig talk / Talking Down / Slurs.

Scat / Urine

I want him to have to walk back in complete shame, never looking so big in his thousands of years. Just by standing he feels he could tear, and makes the mistake of stretching, hands on the low of his back and enormous distended belly pushing all the way out, cramping painfully as the skin almost gives, like plucked violin strings unraveling, making him cry out and hunch over himself, again triggering another cascade of hurt. There is no possible position he could take that could stop this pain.

I want him to barely be able to leave the room, his hips twist and grind, his water balloon of a gut leading his step, forced into a waddle as it sways side to side with each step, clutched by the underside by hands attempting to alleviate some of the unbearable weight. It sloshes audibly, even over the violent, angry gurgling and howling his stomach refuses to stop making even for a second, a nonstop cacophony of sound echoing from deep inside of him, and he can feel the liquid glug around at the top, only the tiniest sliver of room for it at the brim. There is no exaggeration or hyperbole, his stomach is simply so stretched that another mouthful would very much cause the poor organ to rupture.

I want him to catch a glimpse of himself in a reflection and have his face turn wine-red in embarrassment. Though only stuffed with a meal, his body mimics an overdue pregnancy, packed so tightly and immense that it wouldn't be farfetched for an unsuspecting onlooker to suspect him of expecting.

I want it to lay heavy and crushing on his thighs, even as he leans back against plush pillows. His shirt has lost half its buttons, pinging off one-by-one as he gorged himself earlier that evening, now splayed, framed around its mass like a work of art, and his pants fair no better, the fabric tearing before he could lose another button, splitting the zip wide open and spilling out more room for his gluttony. He is forced to look at it, to marvel at his own failings in the form of his moon-like belly.

A thin line of stress pulls from his sternum to the underside of his belly, a shimmering cleft caused by the sudden bulge of his blown-out form. His navel sits almost flat with the building pressure behind it, occasionally poking in and out when Caius moves or hiccups into the back of his hand.

Caius is a remote human who lives on his own in a beach house inherited by family. He has a small job as a clerk, owns a cat, and tries to keep to himself.

His life is normal, mediocre, and quite dull. It all changes for him one summer morning, when out on a morning walk, he finds a washed up injured mermaid on the shore.

When he's full of lovers eggs after a rogue mating heat, it's only 6 months later when those eggs have grown big and hard. He has to leave his job, every day he goes down to the beach, Aro meeting him there everyday, webbed hands caressing Caius's full belly.

It's not long at all until labor hits, and he's laying those pearl-like eggs off a rock close to the shore, legs dangling over the ocean's edge, hitting the water one-by-one with a splash, as Aro helps collect them in a basket.

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In regards to the infants themselves:

I imagine the babies are sirens, and that sirens are just the hybrid species of human+mermaid.

The sirens don't have the long fish half of the mermaid, having human legs, but instead have a long frilled tail to make up for it. Their hands and feet are webbed, and they have the same gills, fins, and scaled markings of the mermaid parent. (think Luca)

They can walk on land for short periods of time, but its rare. Most spend their entire life in water.

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also bonus picture: