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Summary:

Dalv and Starlo face the trials and tribulations leading up to the birth of their child.

Notes:

I said I was gonna see this through. Never said I wasn't terrified of the process. Not only am I the first person to publish a corn yaoi mpreg fic, I've also published the first uty birth fic. That's a lot to live up to.

Other than general anxiety, the reason this took more than a month to write is because I wanted this to be really vindicating for the characters. They endured so much hardship, and I want all that perseverance to pay off right here. TL;DR, let me cook.

The labor and birth here is very similar to human ones with the addition of magic elements because, like I've said before, I'm not a creative person. I'm sorry, 'baby magically manifesting' truthers. You guys can look elsewhere for that stuff.

For those of you who've forgotten or didn't read my first work, I wrote Dalv to have absent parents and a tragic upbringing that culminated in abandonment issues. And he's got a mutation that made it harder for him to conceive. This silly lil vampire has been my favorite chew toy for the past year if you couldn't tell.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The night she left, his life became much colder.

He had just moved from sleeping in the crib to sleeping in a new toddler bed. He was so happy to finally have his own bed; he couldn't sleep from all the excitement. When his mother came to check on him and found he was wide awake, she offered to read a bedtime story.

They sit together on his bed, huddled up as his mother read a picture book about a parent climbing all the way up to space to take the moon for their child. As she got to the part where the child has to return the moon back to the sky, the little one brushed his tiny hands over her wool. It was so soft and warm. If his entire bed was made up of her wool, he would never want to wake up.

Setting the book aside, his mother laid him down on the pillow, curling up next to him to fit in the bed frame. Snuggling into her warm wool, the little monster felt his eyes grow heavy, wondering when he will get his own wool before he drifts off to sleep.

When he woke up, she was gone. No one could find her. The last thing she left behind was a hideous scar on her child's neck.

After that, it was as if everything began to grow colder.

The rest of his life up to adulthood was a blur, being passed from house to house, one resentful guardian to the next. A couple years after becoming an independent adult, he finds a suitable residence for himself: a barren, one-floor, one-bedroom house at the edge of the Ruins. He quickly made himself at home, but the coldness in his soul remained.

For years, he believed this was the best outcome. No one could hurt him. No one would walk out on him. His forlorn lifestyle was all he needed.

That is, until an outgoing little fox entered his life. Her kindness and the way she spoke with such enthusiasm warmed the vampire’s soul, encouraging him to leave the Ruins more often. He was so enamored with the stories she shared; he even considered visiting the Dunes to meet her friends and family.

But nothing good lasts forever. Especially not for him.

A small hand grasped his as they trekked down the paths of Snowdin, the little fox rambling on about everything and nothing, and the vampire happily listening to it all. But their conversation was disrupted by screaming in the distance, stopping both monsters in their tracks.

The frigid fog shielded whatever occurred from them, but it didn’t take long to discover who caused it: A human. The fog enveloped their head even as they stepped closer, making it nearly impossible to read their expression. But their intent was clear. The vampire focused on how their tutu and ballet shoes were coated in dust, particles falling and becoming one with the snow. The sight of it all sent a shiver down his back.

On instinct, he moved in front of the younger monster and assumed an unconfident fighting stance towards the human. He knew his magic wouldn't be enough to defeat them —his uncle once called him the weakest link— but he hoped it would at least bide time for his friend to run back to her father.

Summoning seven spheres of electricity, he aimed them at the murderous human, targeting their heart. The human reacted quickly, dodging each one with a haunting agility and grace. But as they leapt away from the sixth sphere, they ended up entering the last one's range, sending a burning electric shock to their exposed shoulder.

It was enough to make them collapse, emitting a horrifying shriek. Immediately, the vampire turned back and yelled at his friend to run away. But the girl doesn't move. She doesn't even look at him.

Before he even had the chance to shake her to her senses, the vampire heard the sound of crunching snow growing ever near. Whipping his head back, his eyes grew wide with terror as he witnessed the human jump to such a great height, kicking their leg out for a lethal blow. All he could do was watch as they crash down with a ferocious speed he couldn't hope to—

"AH!" Dalv gasps, shooting up awake from his awful nightmare. Before he can even think, a contraction rips through his abdomen, sending pulsing waves to his pelvis and hips like electric currents. He groans, not expecting the contraction to grow this intense after his rest.

When the tightness ebbs away after about a minute, the vampire takes a moment to catch his breath, patting his hands around the mattress to detect any dampness. The sheets were still dry, which means his water hasn't broken yet. A small sense of relief washes over him at the confirmation that his bed wasn't soiled.

Collecting his thoughts as he sits, bathed in darkness, Dalv subconsciously smooths his hands over his baby bump. The usually hyperactive baby —whom he and Starlo affectionately nicknamed Cricket— doesn't give the slightest of movement, but that's to be expected this far into labor. Dalv doesn't miss it too much, because in a couple hours he will be feeling those movements on the outside.

Then he remembers the memories he just dreamt… he hasn't looked back on those in such great detail in recent years. Were they more vivid now because of the baby's arrival? Visions of what kind of parent he would become, if he wasn't strong enough to protect them from bad people or lacked the mental strength to remain in their life…

His hands stop their motions, resting on each side of his belly. Staring down at where his unborn child rests, Dalv unwaveringly promises them, "I won't let any of those horrible things happen to you. I'll be better."

In the midst of his whispered vow, a distant shout of annoyance could be heard. Dalv is sure it was from Clover, but he has no clue what had happened. If Clover is still here, he assumes that Martlet, Ceroba, and Kanako are here as well. He figures he may as well say a quick hello before Martlet and the kids have to leave.

Getting out of bed was already difficult for Dalv before the pregnancy, but the heavy baby bump makes it much trickier. But at least it doesn't tire him this time. The sleep rewarded him with extra HP, so he had some backup energy for the labor.

Now on his feet, Dalv begins his waddle to the door. But as he navigates through the dark room, his right ankle chooses that moment to betray him by twisting and throwing him off-balance. Dalv quickly holds his belly with his left arm and sticks out his right elbow, bracing as he lands with a loud THUD.

And with that, all of his extra HP vanishes.

Dalv groans in pain and irritation, his hip and elbow stinging from the impact. At least he didn't hit his head or belly.

In a matter of seconds, Starlo and Ceroba burst through the door, turning the lights on to find Dalv collapsed. Starlo rushes to his side, spewing a flurry of questions. "Oh my god— what happened?! Are you hurt? Did you hit your head? Is the baby alright?"

"I'm fine, dear. I didn't hit my head," Dalv assures his panicking husband, accepting his hand as he gets on his knees. "And the baby is safe. But I did fall on my elbow and the right side of my hip. It still hurts."

"I can fix that," Ceroba steps in, kneeling in front of the vampire and gently places one hand on his elbow and the other on his hip. Reciting a spell under her breath, a green glow emanates from the bottom of her palms and heals the surfaces they touch. "Feeling better?"

Once Ceroba lets go of him, Dalv moves his right arm a bit and doesn't feel the earlier sting. "Much better. Thank you."

"Good. I'll go see Martlet and the kids out," Ceroba says, standing up to leave.

Starlo almost follows suit until Dalv grabs his wrist, his hold tight yet trembling.

"Don't," the vampire chokes thought the rising contraction, "Don't leave me."

Heartbroken to see his husband so scared, Starlo gives Ceroba a look that tells her to go without him. She does so, leaving the two alone.

Starlo turns back to Dalv, rubbing his back and gently reminding him to breathe. As the contraction peaks, Dalv lets go of Starlo's wrist and grabs his hand in a bone-crushing grip. As shockingly painful as the grip change was, Starlo doesn't complain. He knows this is nothing compared to what Dalv is experiencing.

Still, regardless of how extremely anxious both husbands were, there was no doubt that they were just as excited at the prospect of meeting their miracle baby. Everything they endured ever since they chose to take this next step, it was all building up to this moment.

Soon after the contraction ends, Ceroba returns with a wooden chair. "They just left. I thought we could try something to progress the labor."

After setting the chair down, Ceroba helps Dalv stand up and directs him to sit with his front facing the chair's back. Dalv goes along with her idea, folding his arms over the rail and resting his chin on top.

The kitsune then instructs Starlo to massage his husband's lower back. He moves behind Dalv, leans down, and gently presses into his lower back, causing the vampire to gasp. His voice gradually dissolves into relieved sighs and soft moans; the tension in his back melting under his husband's loving touch.

 


 

Thirty minutes of heavenly massages later, Dalv decides to walk around and let gravity do its work. When he gets tired of walking laps in the house, he asks Ceroba if it would be appropriate for him to go outside.

"I don't see why not. No one would be strolling out at this time. And even if they were, you're still fully clothed," Ceroba points out, glancing at Dalv's extra-large nightshirt and baggy sweatpants.

Dalv considers his friend's advice. While she did make good points, the idea of someone walking by and happening to see him hunched over, heavy, sweating, and wearing tacky clothes… he's getting flustered just thinking about it.

"I could just walk around the backyard," he compromises.

After putting on some outdoor shoes and a light coat, Dalv opens the backdoor and steps outside. Starlo and Ceroba follow behind, the latter now carrying the stopwatch to time his contractions.

Pausing in the center of the backyard, Dalv takes a moment to savor the mildly cold, early-spring night air. The temperature is almost identical to the caverns of Waterfall, the main difference here being the fresh air.

Dalv enjoys being able to step outside without donning his cloak or carrying an umbrella, though he laments it's a shame he can only do so at night. He wonders if his baby will have to live with the same condition — they'll find out at the hospital once the baby is five days old. But he hopes that won't be the case.

Hearing his husband's footsteps, Dalv looks to his left and affirms, "We should plant some more onions." He walks towards the patch, almost sure that some of the bulbs have dried out and need replacing.

"Alright, I'll get to workin' on the soil sometime after," Starlo follows, looking around at the rest of the garden. Their property isn't large enough for them to plant corn, but they found joy in growing different produce and seeing the results. "What new veggies should we try next? Last year's zucchinis were a success, but the tomatoes and peppers didn't bear fruit."

"That's because they didn't have enough sunlight," Dalv reminds him. "When the weather gets warmer, we can find a sunny patch and try agai—" But he couldn’t finish his sentence as an intense pressure radiates from his back, moving to his belly.

Practicing his breathing exercises, Dalv straightens his back and looks up. The night sky is littered with stars, and the moon shines its silver light in the vast ocean of dark blue. Tonight's moon isn't in its full or crescent phases, but as a waxing gibbous. Nevertheless, Dalv still considers it a beautiful sight.

Staring up at the night sky as the contraction peaks brings him a strange sense of comfort. It's almost as if his surroundings are telling him that, even if his baby inherited his condition and wouldn't be allowed to play in the sun, they could at least enjoy this majestic moonlight.

 


 

"I can't stand this! Why is this taking so damn long?!"

"Labor is a long process, Dalv. Especially when it's your first baby," Ceroba reasons, following behind him and Starlo as they resume their walk in the house. "Yours has gone on for, what, twelve hours now? That's normal."

"Well it's still awful," Dalv growls, wanting to break something as he feels the annoying pain build up again. "I need to sit down, or else my legs will fall apart!"

"Alright, I got you," Starlo says, wrapping an arm around his husband's shoulders. Locating the closest room, he helps guide Dalv to his study, his husband's legs shaking vigorously with each step. Pulling up the chair at the desk, Starlo lowers Dalv on the cushion seat.

Dalv does his best to weather the contraction, but all of the movement and breathing exercises he's done over the past few hours have made him lightheaded. His body begins to involuntarily sway, and his vision blurs, though he can vaguely spot Ceroba frantically looking around for something. He feels Starlo's hands grab his shoulders, voice filled with worry as he asks something that the dizzy vampire cannot register.

Without warning, Dalv violently heaves onto Starlo's clothes. Ceroba manages to grab a trash can and shove it in front of Dalv's face, but the damage has been done.

Gradually, Dalv comes back to his senses, feeling Starlo's hand rubbing his back and encouraging him to cough up any residual bile. His throat cleared, yet still burning, Dalv looks up and stares at where he soiled his husband's shirt and pants.

"I think it's time to call the midwife," Ceroba reports to Starlo, gesturing to the stopwatch. Immediately, Starlo grabs his phone and dials the midwife, paying no mind to his soiled clothing. He keeps a comforting hand on Dalv's back, unaware of the guilt swimming through the vampire's head.

In the middle of Starlo's phone call, what remains of Dalv's composure begins to crumble as he pitifully sobs into his hands.

Alarmed by his husband's crying, Starlo ends the call early and kneels down, bringing all his attention to Dalv. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay. I'm not upset. Not one bit. It's natural."

"But it's still awful," Dalv echoes through messy sobs and wet hiccups. "God, I'm repulsive!"

Starlo frowns. "Now don't you go sayin' that, or I'm gonna be real upset." He gently lifts Dalv's chin to see his face. "Think you can walk?"

Dalv sniffles. "I-I can't…"

"Hmm… alright then," Starlo asserts and, without explanation, swoops his bewildered husband off his feet and princess-carries him to the nearby bathroom.

After getting Dalv and himself undressed, Starlo moves both of them to the tub, helps his husband sit on the bath stool, and turns on the shower head. The warm water droplets soothe the vampire's aching body, partially washing away the bad thoughts. Starlo dedicates his time to worshipping every part of Dalv's body as he gently lathers them with soap. At one point, he even talks to the baby bump and asks their little Cricket to go easy on their dad.

By the time they've finished their shower, Ceroba knocks outside the bathroom. Starlo wraps a towel around his waist before answering the door. "Is the midwife here?"

"Yes, I let her in. Should I tell her to wait until you've changed into some clothes?"

"Yeah, just give us five minutes."

She nods, then hands him a bottled electrolyte beverage. "Give this to Dalv. He needs to replenish his strength."

"Alright. Thanks," he says, then goes back to Dalv, who sits on the toilet and drying his hair. Starlo opens the bottle and hands it to him, the vampire taking small sips.

Five minutes later, Starlo lets the midwife enter the bathroom to check on Dalv.

"It's nice to see you again, Dalv. How are you feeling?"

"Like my insides are being crushed and pulled apart all at once."

"Yeah, that's how it can be," the midwife sighs, offering an empathetic smile. "Would you mind if I check your dilation on the next contraction?"

"You may as well," Dalv deadpans, spreading his bare legs as he remains seated. "I can already feel the next one coming."

The midwife hastily goes through her purse and finds a box of sterile gloves. She quickly slips one glove on, kneels between Dalv's legs, and carefully inserts two fingers inside him. The vampire's breath quickens at the uncomfortable sensation, gripping Starlo's hand and cradling his belly to cling to any remaining comfort.

When the midwife graciously removes her fingers, she informs him, "You're seven centimeters along. I'd say we have a few hours left until you're ready to push."

Her cheerful assessment prompts conflicting emotions inside Dalv: in one sense, he will have to endure hours more of cramping and sweating and having his legs feel like stacks of moldsmals. But in another sense… he is hours away from giving birth.

He feels sick.

 


 

Time drags painfully slow for Dalv, each contraction creeping closer and growing in intensity, chipping away at his patience until he snaps at Starlo. He doesn't mean to be so harsh —he truly appreciates Starlo's efforts to provide emotional support— but the star's clingy-ness added with the overstimulation of labor does not help Dalv as much as he thinks.

He had forgone pants after his shower, wearing only a loose nightgown that trails down to his thighs. His hair is tied up in a ponytail, but loose strands manage to stick to his sweaty forehead.

With help from Ceroba's healing magic and some light snacks, Dalv is able to walk normally again — well, as normal as he can be with an oncoming pressure nestled in his pelvis. By god, he wishes those same healing properties could be used on his uterus and back, but he knows that doing so would inhibit the labor and put his baby's life at risk.

"Ceroba and I will be preparing the bedroom for the birth," the midwife explains, though her calm words unintentionally rattle the vampire's soul. "If you want, you and your husband can go to another room and spend some alone time together before the big moment."

Dalv furrows his brow. "Such as…?"

"Such as walking some more, meditating, massaging, or even playing some music. Generally relaxing activities to get you through this intense phase."

Dalv looks up at Starlo for any opinions, but the taller monster seems equally as confused by the offer. With a sigh, Dalv replies, "We'll go. Thanks for the suggestions."

"Hold on," Ceroba says, digging through a bag. She retrieves a few folded towels and some large absorbent pads and hands them over to Starlo. "Just to be cautious. Shout if you need us."

The next thing Dalv knows, he and Starlo are standing outside in the hall, dumbfounded at what they should do. That is, until Starlo takes his hand.

"C'mon, darlin', I have an idea," he sang, guiding Dalv through the house until they reach the music room.

Dalv is unimpressed. "I am not in the mood to play a song right now, thank you."

"Not what I had in mind, Dal," Starlo chuckles, laying a clean towel on a chair for Dalv to sit on, and just in time for the next contraction to hit. He stays by his husband's side, waiting until the pain ceases to head to the old gramophone.

Memorizing the operating instructions, Starlo first slowly winds up the old machine to get it working, and then replaces the sound box needle. Next, he moves to the shelf, browsing through dozens of organized sleeves until he finds a special record. He carefully removes the disk, sets it on the turntable, releases the brake, and finally lowers the sound box.

As the melody clicks in, Dalv instantly recognizes the first few notes. It was their wedding song. They had their first dance as a married couple to this composition.

Keeping a straight face, Dalv side-eyes his cheeky husband prancing towards him. The star monster, with a love-struck grin on his face, stops with a bow. “Mr. Dalv Sunnyside, may I have this dance?”

Dalv scoffs. “Star, you think I can dance like this? At most, I can sway.”

“Then let’s sway together,” Starlo insists, holding out a hand.

Unable to resist his husband's natural charm, Dalv relents. "Fine. But lay out the pads first. I don't want to risk ruining the carpet."

Starlo does as he's told, spacing the absorbent pads out until they cover a fair amount of floor space for Dalv to stand on. With that settled, he strides back to his husband, lovingly takes the vampire's hands, and guides him to the covered area. They assume their positions: Dalv's hands resting on Starlo's shoulder and hip, and Starlo's hands resting on each side of Dalv's belly. Together, they fall into a gentle rhythm as the music plays, recollecting nostalgic memories.

"You remember our wedding reception, when I was pestered by those older monsters?" Starlo asks, taking measured steps as he and his husband dance.

A small smile cracks through Dalv's exhausted demeanor. "And they asked if we would ever have children? I remember." He chuckles as he recalls how worried they both were in that moment. "We had to prepare ourselves for that question weeks in advance. We couldn't just admit that I didn't want them, because that would have broken your parents' hearts."

"Yeah, so I had to say, 'we'll leave that all up to fate.' And it worked on 'em!" Starlo laughs, then sighs fondly at the memory. He gazes at his husband's face, thinking he looks just as beautiful as he did on their wedding night. No, he internally argues with himself. He's even more beautiful now.

"And who'd a thought," Starlo continues, rubbing a thumb over Dalv's baby bump, "almost five years later, that's exactly how we'd get here."

Dalv hums in adoration, which quickly melts into a muffled groan, his head ducking into his husband's chest as he seeks comfort from all the pain consuming his body.

The contraction ebbs away, but not without leaving a burning sensation in his muscles.

"That's it. Good job, darlin'," Starlo murmurs, massaging Dalv's hunched back. Lifting his head up, Dalv finds two fresh indents on his husband's new shirt.

"Oh goodness— I'm sorry! I didn't mean to poke you with my horns!"

Puzzled, Starlo looks down at his shirt and whistles in surprise. "Didn't even notice that. It's alright, love. Don't matter to me."

Before Dalv could fuss, his ears pick up on the music slowing down and ultimately stopping with a scratching noise. Starlo notices as well, so he goes to the gramophone and lifts the sound box.

"Wanna swap out a new tune?"

Dalv shakes his head. "No, I prefer this one. It's relaxing."

With his husband's request, Starlo gets to fixing up the gramophone again. He clicks the turntable brake, winds up the machine, changes out the needle, releases the brake, and lowers the sound box to replay the music.

They resume their slow dance, not speaking for a good minute. It's a sobering silence after all the fretting, yet Dalv feels the strange need to talk.

"Before waking up hours ago, I dreamt about my life before meeting Clover," Dalv confesses, burying his face in Starlo's chest. "Before meeting you."

Catching on to his partner's wanting to express his complex emotions, Starlo gives a small hum in acknowledgement.

Comforted by the taller monster's patience, Dalv continues. "The memories I dreamt of… they were so vivid, Star. It was like I was reliving them, my senses picking up on every detail: the softness of my mother's wool, the stale atmosphere of my old house in the Ruins, the crackles of electricity flowing through my being as I— …" His voice falters, the last memory too much for him to put into words. He feels a gentle hand brush his head, waiting for him to finish his thought.

Gradually calming down, Dalv moves his hands to Starlo's sides. "After everything I have experienced and everything I have done, I never would have expected to be here. To be recognized as your spouse and Clover's guardian… it's more than I deserve. Despite all the changes my body has endured these past thirty-four weeks, it's almost hard to believe that we're having a baby. A part of me worries that none of this is real. That I will wake up, and it's two years ago, my body remaining barren thanks to my damn mutation. Or worse, I'm still in the Ruins, trapped in a prison of my own making."

The vampire tightens his grip on the star's shirt, but looks up to meet his eyes. "But putting my paranoia aside, I know that my mind is right here, and that we are so close to meeting our baby. I know that everything will be alright because I trust you. And I trust Ceroba and the midwife and… our Cricket.” 

Starlo feels like he's about to tear up. "Oh, Moonlight, you deserve the world."

Dalv snorts. "Moonlight? You haven't used that pet name for quite some time."

"'Cause last time I did, you cried yer pretty little eyes out. Said I was callin' ya big and round like the moon, as if that's a bad thing."

"Really? I don't remember that."

"I remember. 'Couple days after I returned from tour, and lil' Cricket hit a growth spurt," Starlo informs him, leaning down to affectionately press their foreheads together. "You were so insecure about yer figure."

Dalv wants to question him further, but a sudden contraction overtakes his body. His knuckles grow pale as his grip on Starlo's shirt threatens to tear the fabric. He breathes and pants like he was told, but a shuttered gasp escapes his throat as something bursts inside him. A gush of clear fluids flood between his legs, soaking the pads below.

The two monsters look down with wide eyes.

"Star…"

“We gotta go back,” Starlo immediately acts, moving to help Dalv back to the bedroom. They can worry about cleaning up the floor later.

"Wait, Star! The record!" Dalv exclaims, refusing to move. Starlo, baffled that his laboring husband was prioritizing the record, goes to turn off the gramophone and put the disk away to ease his husband's worries. He's already got enough on his plate.

 


 

Considering the amount of liquid that emerged from Dalv when his water broke, you'd think that'd be it, right? Wrong.

Halfway through their walk to the bedroom, Dalv realized he was uncontrollably leaking, leaving wet trails behind. Starlo gave him a towel to hold against his crotch, and promised him that they'll mop the floors after. When they made it to the bedroom and informed Ceroba and the midwife of the persistent leaking, both ladies exchanged a knowing glance before assuring the couple that it's surprisingly normal.

An hour later, Dalv is still dripping like a faucet. He's leaning forward and gripping the footboard of his bed, rocking on the balls of his feet as another contraction strikes. The midwife warned him that they'd be more intense now that he lost lots of amniotic fluid, but he didn't expect it to be so excruciating. It felt like his organs were being squeezed and his hips were on the verge of shattering. And yet, he doesn't utter any sounds louder than a pained moan.

Everyone else is helping out to the best of their abilities. The midwife quickly changes the pads underneath Dalv before going back to sorting out the equipment for the birth. Ceroba dims the room light to create a more calming environment, then goes to Dalv side and gives light encouragement. And Starlo —sweet, outgoing, restless Starlo— massages Dalv's lower back, but his touches are barely registered through the vampire's screaming muscles.

As Dalv braces for the contraction to hit its peak, he feels something else as well. A blunt pressure descending further down his body to breach his opening, all of his senses urging him to help them be born.

Digging his nails into the footboard, Dalv gives in to his body's pleas, clenching his teeth as he holds back a cry.

“Dal? Darlin’, what’s wrong? What’s goin’ on?”

Dalv doesn't respond to Starlo's panic, focusing his energy on bearing down on the growing pressure. The pain is so immeasurable, tears start streaming down his face.

"Push for ten seconds at a time until the contraction ends," the midwife tells him, leering at the star monster to make sure he listens as well. "We don't want you tiring yourself out."

Through Dalv's pain-filled haze, he picks up on Starlo's voice counting up to ten and then telling him to stop pushing. He lets go with a strangled gasp and catches his breath, then goes back to pushing.

"Just listen to your body, Dalv. You're doing so good," Ceroba praises him, wiping the sweat and tears off his face.

As the pain releases its grip on him, Dalv slumps forward with ragged breaths. Starlo catches him before he can hit the bed, then rubs his husband's back and whispers, "It's okay, you're okay. Oh, you did so good, Pumpkin."

Slowly lifting his head, Dalv turns to the right to look at Starlo. "Th-they're coming," Dalv croaks out, his voice gradually breaking. "The baby's coming, I-I can feel them…"

"They are," Starlo nods, a smile creeping up his face despite his nervousness. He kisses away Dalv's salty tears. "We're gonna meet 'em soon."

For the next eight or so minutes, Dalv remains in an upward position, undergoing three more rounds of contracting and baring down. But the longer he stays on his feet, the more his trembling legs threaten to collapse under his weight.

"Can't keep standing," he pants once he stops pushing. "I need to lie down."

Per his request, Starlo and Ceroba help Dalv climb onto the bed, elevating his back on the mountain of pillows. The midwife tucks a pad under the vampire's bottom, then instructs the others to hold back his thighs to give the baby more room.

"Don't hold back any sounds you need to make, Dalv," Ceroba reminds him, holding his left hand. "Be as loud as you want. No one's here to judge you."

Dalv feels his cheeks flush, but not just from the labor. He's never been one to shout or make any other loud noises while in physical pain, and he's not looking to start now.

Before he has the chance to pass up Ceroba's advice, a sharp pain cuts off his words, and he's back to pushing. Each wave of agony aches his body and ignites his nerves, yet it fulfills its promise to bringing his baby closer.

"The head is coming," the midwife announces, holding her fingers just under Dalv's opening to prevent the skin from tearing.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Starlo trails off in the middle of counting to glance between his husband's legs. His heart nearly stops when his eyes settle on the tiny sliver of his baby's head. It's slimy and squished and generally not a very pleasant sight, but Starlo can't look away. That's his baby.

Ceroba, having taken over the counting role, notices her best friend fogging up his glasses from hyperventilating. Once Dalv relaxes, the kitsune excuses herself, goes to pick up the wooden chair from earlier, and brings it to Starlo for him to sit down.

Ten minutes pass, and Dalv unfortunately hasn't made much progress. Any time it seemed like he was close to crowning, the baby's head would slip back in once the contraction receded.

"This isn't working at all," he hisses after another unsuccessful push, feeling on the verge of sobbing.

"Perhaps it's time for another position change," the midwife suggests. "Would you like to try lying on your side or going on hands and knees?"

"My side. I want to try on my side," Dalv decisively chooses. The three other monsters help him turn over on his right side to face his husband while Ceroba lifts up his left leg. The slight change in position reduces the pressure on his back, helping him relax more during this break.

The real change becomes apparent once Dalv is back to pushing as he feels the baby's head part his folds, his body giving less resistance. The vampire is so relieved, he nearly cries out in joy. But that joy is short-lived as a piercing pain like no other wracks his body, forcing an animalistic scream out of him. His vision goes white with anguish; it feels like he’s being stabbed from the inside.

"Stop pushing!" the midwife shouts with urgency. Dalv follows her order, reducing to broken sobs as he writhes in pain. "Dalv, I need you to pant for a moment. I gotta unhook…" her voice trails off as she puts all her attention on easing the baby out.

Dalv does his best to pant through the pain, gripping Starlo's arm for dear life as he struggles to fight his body. He can feel the midwife's fingers moving and tugging at the insides of his folds, causing him to break focus and wail loudly.

He's too lost in pain to register the words spoken to him, but Dalv can hear Starlo's voice speaking with a soothing yet apologetic tone. The simple reminder that his husband was by his side gives Dalv more than enough strength to bare through this.

"Got it!" the midwife exclaims as she gently pulls back her hands. Dalv's hearing returns to normal and the stabbing pain he felt subsides, but is soon replaced with a burning sensation.

"The head is crowning, Dalv," Ceroba reports, keeping a steady hold on his trembling leg. "It probably feels like a ring of fire, but just breathe until the next contraction starts, okay? You got this!"

Dalv doesn't give her any sounds of acknowledgement due to his throat stinging from all the screaming, but he eagerly follows her advice to breathe. Looking ahead with blurry vision, Dalv sees his dear husband staring at him, his mouth forming a wobbly frown, and his eyes shining with tears. The star monster's left arm is bruising from all the squeezing the vampire inflicted, but he doesn't pull away for one second.

At a loss for words, Starlo leans in and presses his forehead against Dalv's. They stay like that through the whole break, until Dalv's breathing quickens and he has to push again.

Having warmed up to vocalizing through the pain, Dalv makes a strained groan as he pushes until the head emerges. The midwife tells him to stop until the shoulders rotate, and quickly clears the little one's airways in the meantime.

Once he's given the all-clear, Dalv takes a deep breath and pushes with all his might, emitting a determined cry. With a rush of fluid, the rest of the baby slides out of him and into the midwife's waiting hands.

Dalv turns over to lie on his back, his lower-half convulsing as the sudden hollowness engulfs him. Fighting the urge to close his eyes, he desperately lifts his head to finally see his baby. In an instant, the midwife gingerly deposits a small, wet, wriggling mass on his chest.

The exhausted vampire gasps in awe, beholding every detail of this little one: Their tiny body is coated in mucus and various other birth fluids, wrinkled skin the same shade of purple as his own, but that could change over time. Their eyelids are shut-tight, two small horns sprout from their forehead, and they have three drooping star tips on the sides and top of their head and a fourth tip right at the back of their neck.

As Ceroba comes in with a soft towel and wipes the gunk off the new star monster, the baby scrunches up their face and makes their displeasure known with a reedy wail. Dalv is almost tempted to join in as he watches them curl up their little legs on his heaving chest, their tiny fingers grasping at his sweat-drenched nightgown.

Hands moving on their own accord, Dalv cradles the little star against his chest, feeling them shuffle their feet the same way as when he first felt their movements. This was his baby, his Cricket, his—

"Hi, ohh, hello Amaris," Dalv coos with happiness, love-struck laughter bubbling out of him as fresh tears spill down his smiling face. He feels Starlo lean on his shoulder, crying just as hard as little Amaris. "Oh, that was quite an ordeal, wasn't it? I know, baby, I know. But it's over now, and you're here with us."

 

On March 12th, 3:09 am, Amaris Sunnyside was born on the surface.

Notes:

"According to its Spanish origin, the name means ‘child of the moon.’ […] Amaris is also a feminine form of the biblical name Amariah of Hebrew origin, which means ‘God has said’ or ‘Promised by God.’" [x]

Endless gratitude to my best friend for beta-reading this (she banged her foot against her desk when she got to the screaming). I'd link her socials here if I could because she's an outstanding artist and writer, but I don't want to risk her getting harassed for being associated with a freak who writes mpreg.

Anyways, thanks for reading! I feed off your comments and kudos! See you next time!

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