Count On My Love

There is graphic MPREG birth, and just graphic all around. BEWARE, dont read if you dont like it! Natural birth, so people who get sick by that, skip a few paragraphs.

These are all my own characters.

A scream split through the forest walls, chasing every living creature away from the clearing. A young man, roughly about 18 years of age, lay on the floor, screaming in agony. He was propped up on his elbows, face towards the dark sky. Sweat and blood glimmered on his pale skin in the moonlight, and illuminated his ebony locks of messy hair. His eyes were squinted in pain, his teeth were clenched, and he panted hard through his nostrils and the creases in his teeth. His hands lay curled on his large, curved belly, scratching at the clothing he wore as pain ripped through his body like lightning.

He braced his legs against the ground, trying to withstand the pain. He bowed his back, pushing his chest and stomach towards the sky, crying out.

Tears poured from his violet eyes. He screamed out in an incoherent language, most likely meaning help. As the pain faded for a moment, he leaned up and rubbed his very pregnant stomach. Near his feet, he could feel warm, liquid pour from his body. For a moment, he thought he was urinating. In the realization that labor was at hand, he realized that the infant inside his round belly was to be born in the next hour or so.

He suddenly felt something drop. The infant had moved, and was making its journey through his body, tearing at his flesh. The young man squatted, and braced against the pain when leaning against his new friend, the tree. He hyperventilated loudly, groaning when the terrible hurt pulsed through his abdomen. He felt the ripping sensation under his legs.

He fell back and continued to scream for help. The young one was terrified, in agony, and worse, giving birth to a child he had no intention on having. He sobbed in ragged breaths, wrapping both hands around his full belly. His fingers slipped over his navel, which had been pushed out from the grown life inside. Through hot tears and sweat, he begged for help.

Out of the trees came a strange creature, curious of what had been screaming. It had smelled the blood and was worried. It soon recognized the situation and rushed towards the young man's side. The creature, a male, spoke in a native tongue towards the man.

The young man nodded, and leaned back on the forest floor, with his legs spread, inviting the comforting other. With its two hands, he reached towards the man's belly, and rested a hand upon the wet skin. He soon noticed the man was injured. There was a wound to his left hip, bleeding profusely. A bullet's doing. The creature noted the injury down for later, the child was to be born at the moment.

The young man finally saw the creature through his pained, tearful eyes. It was a man, no older than himself, maybe younger. Upon the sweet face were glistening blue eyes, and dark emerald hair. Through the smile, the young man knew he was safe.

An hour went by. The clearing smelled of blood and sweat. The young man was cooperating, screaming and sobbing, but doing as he was told. (1)

There was a moment when the dark haired man felt the climax. Something pushed against the inside of his body, slipped, and gave.

The child was born.

The elder acted quickly.

He quickly twisted off the cord, separating the two. The towel was soon tinted red, and soaking wet. With one hand holding the child, he slid off his robe and wrapped it around the youngster. The parent sighed in relief and leaned back against the tree as he watched the other man tend to his baby.

He wiped the towel over its head, cleaning the blood and fluid off of its face. Within seconds, its mouth opened, and it echoed its parent's scream. The little chest heaved for the first breath of air. The breath of life itself. The baby was alright, screaming, and healthy. It had not been hurt. Its silver hair was tinted reddish orange from the blood.

Forgotten by the pain of birthing his child, the black haired man soon felt the stabbing pain in his side, from the explosion of the bullet against his body. He only winced, and his violet eyes shut. He fell to his side, still, and dying.

Wasting space here... COMMERCIAL BREAK!!

Okay, on with the next chapter. (WHAT A HOOOOOT! Two chapters in ONE!!

Violet eyes blinked open, focusing on the surroundings. The young man sat up quickly, adjusting his eyesight to the area. There were tan walls all around him. He soon recognized the structure. He looked around more. He was sitting up in a man-made bed of pelts, and a quilt. A sharp pain echoed through his body.

Suddenly, he looked down. He was wearing a large robe, much too big and warm to be his own. He untied the bow, and opened it up, looking down at his abdomen, wrapped in bandages. He rubbed a hand over his belly. Still largely round, but empty. He crawled over to the opening of the tent and peeked out. He was in the clearing from last night. Carefully, he wrapped the kimono back around his body.

Quietly he walked out, and immediately stretched. His eyes grew wide, and he winced. He felt a warm liquid fill up the side of his bandage.

"You punk. After finally healing, you go and rip it open again."

The young man twisted around to come face to face with a very beautiful creature. Dark emerald hair cascaded down to his shoulders, wrapping neatly in the back. His icy blue eyes pierced through the younger man's. "Just don't stand there, go back into the tent."

The young man stood tall, ignoring the order.

"You're not listening to me. A week ago you took orders from me immediately."

"Who are you?" The young one decided to speak, for the first time.

The elder frowned, but soon shook it off and sighed. "We met about a week ago, at midnight. I heard screams, I found you, and tended to you. You were in labor and calling for help. I was that help."

A flood of memories rushed back into the young man's head. The gun, the clearing, the man, and seeing a young child... A shocked expression cast across his pale face.

The elder immediately read his thoughts, "Don't worry, your baby is safe. And to answer your first question, my name is Damien."

No good ever comes out of that name. The young man thought.

"Where is my baby?"

"About a mile away with some friends of mine. They're healers."


"They know how to tend to a newborn. I don't; I called them."

The man he recently met continued to stay silent.

Damien motioned towards the tent. "Are you just going to stand there and bleed, or are you going to let me fix you up?"



(1) There is a lot more graphic parts in the birth, but I took them out so you wouldn't have to worry. If you want it, email me.