Merlin doubted it. He gazed down at his son in fascination. It occurred to him to be thankful he hadn’t grown actual breasts while he was pregnant. He wasn’t sure how much his masculinity could endure, carrying a child was bad enough but breasts would have probably tipped him over the edge. He had lost all of his chest hair but that seemed a small price to pay.
"Her name." John explains. "Sarah and I decided that we were going to name her Nora." And he held his breath in wait of Sherlock's response. He remembered the grief that Sherlock had given him when he and Sarah were deciding on names for their son, Rory; how they couldn't have come up with something more unique. This coming from a man named Sherlock who has a brother named Mycroft... Sometimes it was nice to be normal. And darn it if he was going to let Sherlock change...
It was the stench that woke her. The smell of musk and decay taking her from pleasant dreams. She looked unhappily about. The cell she was trapped in was cold and damp and the short chains bound to her wrist bit deep, letting scars heal from past self-inflicted injuries.  She could only guess at how long she had been kept a prisoner and it wasn't wasn't by etching each hopeless day upon her cell walls. She looked over her naked body with disgust, her eyes stuck upon her now swollen belly. She was in her third trimester her captives claimed. Thus she estimated she had been here a little over nine months. She bit back tears as memories flooded with renewed vigor. Though the days had long passed when the men would enter her cell and take her, ravaging her until their seed had planted, she dreaded this time the most. 

“Ok Jensen, you really are nearly done. She’s right down now. I can see that she’s going to be a blondie like me, so how about you give me a really good one with the next contraction and we’ll see if we can get this done, yeah? What do you say?” the doctor coached as she used her hands to support the skin around their daughter’s tiny blood smeared head.
The sunlight shone into a deep green bedroom, from the floor to the bedspread and the walls around them.  Amidst them rose a high hill, shifting around slightly. But the sheets slid down, revealing the hill to be a very pregnant womb, stretched to the limits by four babies, healthy and ready to be born any day now according to the last appointment. In fact, the doctor was impressed Clare had been able to carry them so long, considering she was at the equivalent of a little over 9 months for quadruplets and she was warned to take it easy, and not do anything especially strenuous, which she reluctantly agreed to, usually a very active person. But this morning, she was filled with more energy than usual, hefting herself out of bed with a grunt and waddling as quickly as she could to pee, the babies pressing hard on her bladder as expected, taking up so much space in her as they did. Afterwards, she checked the clock, seeing that she still had a few hours before dinner and decide

Glancing back, Sherlock gave a quick look at John who looked rather pained while doing all he could to stay calm. But of course John had a lot more to worry about. Instinctively, his arm was wrapped protectively around the large bump that contained his and Sarah's second child; a girl this time. She had already faced death three times in the past few minutes (once being his own fault...) and she wasn't even born yet; he wasn't about to let her face it again.
Jeremy sat at the table in silence, Alyssa, one of his best friends sitting across from him. He had been against the blind date from the beginning since he was worried that his nerves would cause him to go into labour, and that it would force poor Matthew, his date, to take him home or to the hospital before they even got to know each other. He was already a week past his due date, and he knew it wasn't smart to be out and about in his condition, but he also felt as if he would go insane if all he
Francis choked back a scream then bore down hard. He raised his hips instinctively, grinding his teeth together as the baby lurched a couple inches forward, viciously spreading his ass cheeks further and further apart. "Gyahhhh..!" Francis roared and pushed again. His muscles were pulled taut and he could feel the baby struggling, its large shoulders twisting and grinding into his anus but stalling just behind the puckered rim. He whimpered, "N-Niso..."Niso nodded and looked up at him. "Just keep pushing, you can do it just push Francis!" He coached him, helping to spread Francis' legs further apart. "You can't stop now, please just push!" Niso snapped lightly, gritting his teeth and narrowing his eyes at the labouring male. "You'll die if you don't finish giving birth!”
He screamed bloody murder, unaware of any coherent words coming out of his mouth or the work his body was unconsciously doing, until he felt a sharp pop. He heard Jason telling him the head was out but didn’t have time to react before the shoulders were forcing their way into the world as well and it took all of his strength not to pass out on the spot.
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