Work Text:
As the eve of my master's birth draws near, the seed of him that has lain within me for eons grows feistier. More truculent. As well as simply growing, physically. My body grows heavy with him, and were I a mortal bound by the limitations of mere flesh, my limbs would weary from the burden. But fueled as I am by the limitless energy of the Green Sun, the sensation of dense bone and muscle displacing ever increasing amounts of my plush merely fills me with the satisfaction of a job well done.
My master is not a patient man, and so it should not surprise you, as it does not surprise me, that he is not a patient symbiont either. But no matter how many tantrums he throws in my belly, no matter how he stirs my stuffing and thrashes against my fabric, he cannot change the facts: he will emerge when the universe ends and not a moment sooner.
I brush a soft hand over my heaving midsection, at once soothing and admonishing. He recoils at the tender touch and curls in on himself, a wicked, burning weight in my core.
I remain, as ever, an excellent host.