Bimbo Emblem Chapter 4 - (Lucina, FemMorgan)

The door to Tharja’s study creaked, swinging in an agonisingly slow arc as the two young intruders pushed forward. Lucina took point, eyes sweeping the floor before her cautiously, while Morgan scampered along behind her. There was nothing to speak of for now, as deep into dangerous territory as they were.

As the shelves filled with jars of bat wings, frog eyes, and myriad other organs of indeterminate origin would attest to, this was the lair of a dark mage. And as anyone who had managed to accidentally offend Tharja (or, gods forbid, Robin) could attest, this particular one had no shortage of inventive revenge methods. The gloom seemed almost oppressive, heavy curtains blocking out the fresh morning light. Lucina and Morgan trod lightly, for fear of any wards, alarms or traps they might trigger, none too keen to be turned into a newt so early in the morning.

Eventually, standing in the middle of the room, they were more or less satisfied that there was nothing to fear. It was slightly odd, but certainly not worth complaining about.

“Right…” Lucina let out a breath of relief, casting her eyes about the room’s many macabre features. “Let’s make this quick. I’m sure neither of us have any desire to linger-”

“Wow, a third edition Necronomicon? Wonder who she had to kill to get that...” Morgan mused, her head already buried in a bookcase.

“Morgan, please, stay focused!” Lucina hissed, still unwilling to truly raise her voice for fear of what it might cause.

“You got it, Sis!” Morgan faux-whispered, punctuating the affirmation with a wink. Lucina sighed and went about scanning the room.

“Morgan, we don’t know for certain whether we’re related or not...” She mumbled as she scanned over a small table of alchemical reagents for anything obviously related to their issue. “This could all be a simple misunderstanding, for all we know.”

“Haha! Must be a big misunderstanding to have you so flustered!” Morgan sniggered over her shoulder, looking up from the many open books on Tharja’s desk. “And besides, don’t you think it would be fun to have a sibling? I’d want to be your little sister even if we’re not related, and not just to be a princess, either!”

Lucina cringed somewhat, cut painfully deep by Morgan’s trademark incisive sincerity. She took a deep breath and stood up from the table, having seen no vials labelled WARNING: Causes Extreme Breast Growth. It struck her now that she wasn’t much use in this search at all.

“Perhaps… But it wouldn’t be proper. I’m sure some of our friends would be more than happy to call you sister, though?” She attempted to deflect the subject, only for Morgan to scoff.

“Urgh, no… Loads of them have enough family issues to begin with. Heh, and I think Inigo would have a heart attack if I friend-zoned him that hard- Oh, hang on, what’s this…?”

Lucina’s ears pricked up amidst the rambling gossip, and she rushed to the desk. Peering over Morgan’s shoulder, she saw the younger woman sliding a page out from the middle of another book. Upon closer inspection, it was a different colour to the heavy grimoire’s yellowed pages, paler and newer-looking. Morgan held it to the light, revealing the full scope of its dense scribbles and arcane diagrams.

“Huh, this is Mom’s handwriting all right...” She rubbed a finger over the corner of a letter, the charcoal mark smudging slightly. “Pretty fresh, too… Looks like the schematic for a spell. And judging by these...” She glanced back and forth between the open books and the page, comparing the unfamiliar markings and mechanisms.

“...Well?” Lucina spoke out after a minute of solid study. Morgan brought the page down and looked up at her comrade.

“Well, if Mom really did just scribble this down on the fly, I need to step up my studies. If she can get this good at boob-boosting magic on the side while still beating me in chess every time-”

“Morgan, please, just take this seriously...”

“Sorry, this is still just really weird, and I don’t really know why we’re so against it either.” She gave another quick wink, and went on. “Anyway, this is definitely some kind of draft for a transformative hex. Looks pretty streamlined though, so probably the final draft. Maybe those tomes you saw were fresh copies?”

“You can read it then? Is it reversible?” Lucina leaned forward, stressing the urgency of her point. Morgan’s face scrunched up, displaying mixed emotion.

“Ehh… I can’t really read it, exactly. I’m nowhere near versed enough in dark magic to come up with something like this, all I can do is get a general idea. If I could partially cast it, maybe I could get a feel for it and see how the insides work?” She held the page between finger and thumb, turning it around, as if the angle would enlighten her further. Lucina frowned at her uncertainty.

“I don’t know much about magic, but that sounds… Dangerous.”

“Oh, no, it’ll be fine!” Morgan scoffed back at her. “Besides, what other choice do we have, we need to save Dad from the tittymonsters, right? Let’s head back to my room. I need a catalyst for this, and I’d rather not use Tharja’s. No telling where it’s been...”

“...Very well.” Lucina fought to hold her tongue, straightened up, and began the ginger journey back out of the room, Morgan practically skipping along in her shadow, high off the thrill of discovery. Again, they peeked around the door, finding the secluded corridor vacant, and slipped out, moving quickly back to the safety of a room that wasn’t steeped in curses.

Mere moments after they turned the corner, another head popped into view from the opposite end of the corridor. A blonde-haired one, bearing a trailing white headdress and twin pigtails.

“They’re gone!” Lissa whispered to her companion.

“Finally...” Droned Tharja, waltzing out of their hiding space towards her own room. Lissa followed, skipping along beside her, smiling to herself with her lovely new lips. Fully dressed now, she had also received a wardrobe upgrade courtesy of the hex, her usual modest dress replaced by an elegant, yet raunchy new number. Pale, lacey yellow cloth clung to her curves and slivered down her arms into flaring sleeves, while dainty white ruffles looped around the generous bulge of her bust, protecting some shred of her modesty from the slightly translucent material. The undercarriage of her skirt had pulled back, opening the front to showcase her luscious legs, clad in tight snow-white stockings and ending with a pair of cute heeled pumps. Pulling the ensemble together, a tiny corset, more for show than anything else, sat comfortably over the pinch of her waist, just above an expansive window showcasing the flawless skin of her abdomen, baring her Exalted brand for all to see. It was as if the hex had known she wanted to show off the mark as much as possible, and it wholly made up for the fact in her mind that there was little the outfit left to the imagination. Hell, one might even consider that a positive. She was rather sure anyone who looked at her would, at least.

The two had finished their tryst a few minutes prior, and after a short explanation and rather hands-on dress up, they’d set off to monitor the progress of Robin’s grand plan… Whatever it actually was. Tharja had honestly been less than forthcoming. But Lissa knew Robin well enough to know nothing got by her, and if it meant everybody was going to end up smoking hot like she had, she was all for it.

Now, even post-transformation and in comparable heels, Lissa still had to look up to Tharja as she strode back to the door of her study, the dark mage grumbling softly as she reached for the doorknob. Pushing down the twinge of annoyance that she’d grown out but not up, the princess spoke up, frowning.

“Wait, where are you going? I thought we were following them?” Tharja met Lissa’s disapproving look with eyes of unmoving granite.

“Give me a minute. I have to put my security spells back on. I tolerated their presence this once, but I shan’t have more intruders in my workspace.” Her response was measured, respectful, but clearly unrepentant. The tone lit a rising flame of defiance in Lissa, only for that to immediately be doused by the mumbled, under-her-breath follow-up as Tharja turned back to the door: “They better not have touched my shrine...”

Admonishing words had already began to form in the back of Lissa’s throat, but that stopped them dead. She didn’t really want to pry further. She might have had a reputation for speaking her mind, but Tharja’s “hobbies” were a can of beans she thought best left unopened. So, as the dour dark mage disappeared into her lair, Lissa was left outside with only her thoughts.

Subconsciously, she smoothed over a wrinkle in her dress, a fingertip straying over the edge of the window, brushing over her delicate, milky-pale skin. She glanced down, immediately realising that her heavy new endowments blocked the view of her abdomen entirely. Pouting slightly to herself, she slid the finger inward, tracing over the region she knew the mark was.

Though the gentle touch on her skin was shiver-inducing, she couldn’t directly touch the brand. The skin felt identically smooth across the entirety of her stomach. Nonetheless, she could feel it inside, like a comforting belt of warmth just beneath the surface. As she traced across the curving mark, her mind wandered back to the vivid fantasies she’d had during her transformation. She blushed, shifting on her feet slightly with an adorable little wiggle, pursing her lips as she indulged a little in the privacy of her mind.

The carnal images seemed no less arousing now than they had then, but what struck her more was the emotion she’d felt. The maturity, the beauty, the utter command of attention. Despite being so flagrantly indecent, to her it still somehow seemed incredibly royal. She supposed that might be the magic talking, but it made sense.

Her mental debauchery growing more obscene by the second, she had to resist the urge to touch herself. This escapade of theirs was so exciting, in more ways than one. She wanted to keep at the sneaky spy mission she and Tharja were on, but there was also the urge to jump on the first person she saw and ride them til the end of time... Though she wasn’t sure how well that’d go down, even if she was the princess.

She began to pout again, thick lower lip wobbling as she huffed to herself. There she was, Princess of Ylisse and solidly one of the top three hottest women in the country, and there she was, standing in a corridor, alone, dejected and horny. It wasn’t fair...

Then, for a moment, the throbbing in her loins seemed to focus her mind. If this magic could catch, even become the norm, she could use that. If everyone was as into sex as she was right now, she could earn their respect that way! It would certainly be a lot more fun than needlework and etiquette classes. With enough practice, she could wield the same commanding grace her sister Emmeryn had, with sex appeal as her medium!

She glanced back to Tharja’s door, fingers curling around the high front hem of her skirt, mere inches from her most intimate spot. It cried out for attention, and she honestly couldn’t justify saying no. She braced herself, steeling her nerves for what she had to do, a resolute smile taking hold on her dainty features.

She turned on a heel and took ahold of the doorknob, marching straight into Tharja’s lair with a look of stoic determination. Lucina and Morgan would be fine. She needed lots of practice if she was going to be the most regal princess in all the lands, after all...

+++

“Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here...”

Lucina sat on the edge of Morgan’s bed, arms and knees together, watching as the younger girl squinted at the page she held in one hand, the other waving about some obscure magical component she had no idea as to the function of.

Lines of warm orange power began to form in the air around the gesticulating mage, though not as Lucina frequently saw them on the battlefield. The runes were alone, free-floating, and the rings of light trailed through the air, fading like the trail of a firework as they spun like lazy comets around Morgan.

“Well?” Lucina said, for what felt like the tenth time that morning, her own inability to contribute frustrating her to no end. “What do you see?”

“Hmm… I’m not really sure.” Morgan hummed, cocking her head as she tested the innards of the spell. “It’s pretty concisely written, and I don’t recognise a lot of these symbols. Better go deeper...”

The lines and letters around her grew brighter, bolder and faster, now nearing full rings and coherent strings of characters. Lucina blinked, concern showing on her face.

“Be careful, Morgan. The last thing we want is for it to activate.”

“Oh, quit it, Sis.” Morgan flippantly replied. “I’m not dumb enough to trigger the start mechanism, I know enough about magic to-”

All of a sudden, there was a pulse of light from the floating lines, the familiar soft orange briefly taking on a new hue: Pink. It was gone as soon as it had appeared, but it left the two women in shock.

“...Morgan, what was that?” Lucina deadpanned, panic blooming in her chest as the rings of magic began to glow even brighter, spinning faster still, the faint tinkling sound of casting starting to bloom in the background.

“Uh… Nothing, nothing! It’s fine, I just have to-” Morgan’s hand swiped through the air, attempting to terminate the spell, only for nothing to happen. The magic circles continued to swell, their hue shifting from orange, through peach, to a brilliant, permanent magenta. Lucina stood, looking for a way out as Morgan frantically tried to stop the escalating magic. The near-musical noise grew stronger and stronger, until it suddenly stopped, sounding an all too familiar tone. The circles froze in midair. There was a moment of terrified silence.

“Oh well.” Morgan sighed. “Can’t be that bad.”

A fraction of a second later, the room was engulfed in all-consuming pink.

+++

Lucina recovered quickly from the bursting colour, coughing and spluttering through the fog that had burst through the room, assaulting all her senses. Her eyes stung, her nose burned, and on her tongue she felt a sickly, artificial sweetness.

“Morgan!” She cried out into the magenta mist, taking an unsteady step forward. “Are you alright?” The affirming response was a few coughs from the floor before her.

“Ugh… Yeah, I’m okay.”

The cloying fog began to clear, revealing the room itself, in even more chaos than it had been before. Every stack of books and scripts had been upturned, strewn over the floor in great, surging hills. Morgan took a look around, squinting through slightly watery eyes, and sighed. Lucina let out a breath of relief.

“It would appear that spell is more untamed than you thought. But at least nothing bad happened. We should count our blessings.” She relaxed, rubbing at her eye with one finger as Morgan got back on her feet.

“Yeah, sorry. Not sure what happened there. Dark magic is weird stuff, I definitely thought it triggered the-” She stopped mid-sentence, her head bobbing as if struck by a strange sensation. “Uh…?” Her hand went to her forehead, eyes scrunching closed.

“Morgan? Are you sure you’re okay?” Lucina’s brow furrowed with concern. She took a step toward her friend, only to stagger, gasping as a bolt of sensation ran through her body. Her tunic suddenly felt incredibly tight, and the motion had compressed it further. She fell to one knee, panting, every flex of her body changing the pressures of her clothing, flexing around her almost painfully-bound bosom, wracking her body with tactile earthquakes. Through it all, she managed to choke out a few more words: “Morgan… W-wha-”

“Oh, Sis, what’s wrong...?” Morgan’s voice drawled from above her, in a tone she’d never yet heard. It was sultry, deep and suggestive, the voice of a seductress. Ignoring the unwelcome pangs of pleasure in her chest, she craned her head up, eyes meeting Morgan’s as the smaller girl loomed over her. One eyelid drooped half-closed, the other wide open in a slanted, mocking expression, but that was not what disturbed Lucina. It was that the eyes themselves seemed clouded, her irises consumed by roiling pink, and the predatory glint therein as Morgan stared down at her.

“M-Morgan?” The kneeling princess stammered in desperation, breath already running short. Blue eyes stared pleadingly up into burning pink-tinted ones, begging for some fragment of reassurance.

The dark-haired enchantee offered no reply, save for a sensuous licking of her lips...

+++

“Nooooo! Gah! Morgan, please- AAAAH!”

Lucina lay belly-up on Morgan’s bed, now straddled by her hexed accomplice, the belt which held Falchion knocked to the floor beside them. Morgan had pushed her onto the bed and was keeping her there with little effort, the breath-stealing tightness of her clothes sapping the strength from her limbs. It went beyond her chest now, with every inch of clothing now feeling like tight, impossibly finely textured cloth, stimulating her skin like a thousand tiny hands. Even the shifting of her boots on her feet threatened to drive her insane, every twitching toe feeling as if they were caught in an electric cage.

Trapped under Morgan’s weight, she lay there, helpless as Morgan assaulted her body. At first, she had no idea what to expect, until Morgan’s palms descended upon her chest, the firm pressure on her oversensitive breasts sending lightning bolts ricocheting through her body. She instantly broke into a chorus of involuntary squeaks and moans, backed by the playful, sadistic giggling of her torturer.

“Aww, your moans are so cute, Luci!” Morgan tittered, her tone playful yet demeaning. “You must be feeling really good...” She stopped her rhythmic massaging for a second, only to jab into the centres of Lucina’s mounds with her index fingers, pressing into the squirming girl’s rock-hard nipples, causing her victim to squeal and tense under her. She sighed in contentment, witnessing Lucina’s involuntary enjoyment. “Mmm… You look like you’re having so much fun...”

“P-please, Morgan... S-stop… Ah!” Paying no attention to the princess’ pleas, Morgan resumed her slow breast massage, drowning Lucina’s higher functions in stimulation once again.

“Aww, loosen up, Sis… No use fighting it now...” She continued the erogenous torture for another moment, until she let out a gasp of her own. Her massage faltered, letting Lucina pry her own eyes open to witness Morgan’s transformation.

It began in her clothes, the plain off-grey pyjama suit she wore growing slightly paler, slightly tighter, the weight of her cloak simultaneously evaporating away. Morgan met them halfway, the fabric shrink-wrapping her expanding body, the excess slipping away to form an intricate white brassiere and matching pair of panties that clung to her as she grew. Lucina watched in horror as Morgan cast her head back, moaning in ecstasy, her petite chest doubling in size with every second that passed, the rest of her body lagging shortly behind, soon bursting with soft, flawless flesh.

Gasping, Morgan wobbled atop Lucina, her new titanic tits jiggling in their meager restraints. Her thickened hips and thighs tightened over Lucina’s midsection as the shivers ran through her. Levelling her gaze, Lucina saw the final touches to her new look, with lengthened eyelashes, lit from within by the pink glow possessing her, and thin yet full lips, stained an inky black and already curling into an evil smile.

“Wow, what a rush…” Morgan panted, tossing her shoulder-length bob about to clear her head. Her hands slid up her midsection, cupping her own breasts and squeezing them hard. “Hah… You’re going to love this, Luci… But let's get you some air first...”

Lucina feebly raised her arms to protect her clothing, but the slightest weight on her chest reduced her to mewling mush once again. She ought to feel so violated, so helpless and defeated. After all, her effort had been entirely for nought, brought low by her own assistant. But she couldn’t. Her every moment was overwhelming bliss, the current so strong it threatened to pull her down to the depths of bottomless lust with every second that passed. Despite knowing in her heart it was wrong, when faced with such insurmountable ecstasy, she couldn’t help but want more.

While Lucina was distracted with her introspection, Morgan fiddled with the buttons of her tunic for a moment, newly pointed nails making it somewhat awkward. Eventually, she found the catch, and popped each one in turn, keeping the tunic closed.

“Ready, Sis? This is going to feel amazing...” Lucina barely had time to peer through the haze on her senses before she was swallowed up yet again. Morgan threw back the hem of the tunic, exposing Lucina’s chest to the air. For an instant, she was free of the crushing pressure that had blighted her mind, only for the chill of the air to settle against her newly exposed hypersensitive skin, to her feeling as if ice water had been dumped over her body, sweeping away her mind like a tidal wave.

Morgan laughed as Lucina squealed once more, involuntarily arching her back and shoving her exposed chest into the air. She wore no underclothes, so all was on display, from the defined outlines of her clenching abs to the tiny bump of her breasts, each capped with a small, painfully hard nipple.

“So cute and tiny… But not for much longer.” Morgan cooed, rubbing her palms up and down Lucina’s torso, adding to her quaking torment. “Get ready for the big moment, Sis...”

Some part of Lucina’s frazzled brain heard her words, and knew she was right. She could feel the magic coiling within her, ready to surge to the surface and remake her. What was most surprising was that she no longer had the will to oppose it. As the flames of change licked under her skin, she screwed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth, making ready for the inevitable tsunami of pleasure that would sweep her away.

At first, all that she felt was a tingle across her entire body, like the rush she felt post-exercise. It spread and intensified, holding her to unbearable tension, until it seemed to burst. In one movement, her entire body seemed to pop, her back shaking as she gained a sizable burst of height, every muscle swelling to prominent definition, the only fat in sight collecting at her chest and posterior. She shortly felt them growing too, pooling under her and into Morgan’s hands, brimming with nerves and begging to be fondled.

All the while, her clothes seemed to be shrinking away. The cloak she lay on was unaffected, but the open tunic hanging from her shoulders was not so lucky, the hem receding to the bottom of her still-surging boobs, sleeves disappearing completely to reveal her delicately muscular arms. Under Morgan’s hips, the same thing was happening, her trousers curling up from under her thigh-high boots to form a tight pair of booty shorts, leaving a visible gap of pale, creamy skin. Further down still, her utilitarian boots sprouted the impractical heels she’d seen so often that day, taking on an air of class they’d not had before.

Lucina had yet to bear witness to her change, but she could feel it in excruciating detail. Morgan continued to play with her still-swelling tits, planting her face between them and luxuriating in their softness, occasionally pinching a nipple, making Lucina spasm through it all. On top of everything else, it was almost too much to bear. The orgasmic torture of the past few minutes was coming to a head, cresting the wave of her transformation. She felt her core tighten, coiling around the raging libidinous fire within her, blood rushing to her head as she braced once more, the magic plumping her lips as she let out one last gasp, as if to complete her. She teetered on the edge of oblivion… And came.

Lucina had never been one to waste time masturbating, and had never had the luxury of getting attached to a partner in her own world. Indeed, this was the first orgasm of her life, and it changed her.

She screamed aloud between her new dick-sucking lips, hands bunching in Morgan’s sheets as her first orgasm ever tore through her. She convulsed, volleyball-sized breasts jiggling like crazy, every muscle in her athletic frame tightening, toes curling in her boots in a moment of unforgettable bliss. It lasted for a full thirty seconds, consuming her mind entirely, wiping it clean by the intensity alone.

Eventually, it subsided, leaving her adrift, exhausted and peaceful. Far away, she felt Morgan collapse atop her, head between her breasts. Her arms subconsciously embraced her friend, limply encircling her out of some deep, instinctual affection. There was no grudge to hold for what had transpired, just simple-minded acceptance. No doubt clouded her mind as her eyes fell closed, her mind at peace as she slipped into the darkness of sleep.

+++

“Lucina? Morgan? You guys in there?”

Lucina found herself roused from slumber by a chipper voice, followed by the sound of a creaking door. The information filtered through her sleepy brain slowly, her mind feeling particularly frazzled. A weight lifted from her chest, the tickle of hair on her bare breast coaxing her into lucidity.

“Oh, hi! Wow, Lucina wasn't kidding, Lissa, you look so hot! Oh, and you too, Tharja!”

The words moved sluggishly through Lucina’s mind as her eyes fluttered open. This was relevant, somehow…

“Aww, thanks! You’re looking good yourself! Guess you had a little accident with that spell? How’s Lucina doing?”

The spell. Lucina snapped awake, instantly bolting upright, head frantically scanning the room, barely noticing the heavy bounce that accompanied the movement. What she saw was three people smiling at her. Morgan, at the edge of the bed, looking slightly cheeky but seemingly back to normal, her eyes their usual dull grey once again. Lissa, looking much the same as their last encounter, though dressed in something that Lucina likened to a sluttified version of a dress that a doll she had once owned wore. Lastly, Tharja, skulking in the shadow of the entryway, arms crossed over her chest, hip cocked and smirking knowingly.

It was strangely becalming, and as Lucina glanced around, the heaving of her breath brought to attention her state of dress, or rather, undress. She glanced down to the perfect, shapely orbs hanging from her chest and squeaked in shame. She rushed to cover herself, trying desperately to rebutton her tunic but hampered by its new form. Try as she might, she could barely get three buttons done up, revealing a huge window of cleavage.

The other occupants of the room giggled at her predicament, Lissa stepping over the book-covered floor to stand at her bedside.

“It’s fine, Lucina, don’t worry… We’re all ladies here, right?” She reached out and wrapped Lucina’s scrambling arms in a hug, completely consuming one lithe bicep in soft, frilly bosom. Becalmed but still discomforted, Lucina stopped trying to cram her breasts away and sank into her auntie’s embrace.

“I failed...” She murmured. “I let it get to me too...”

“Aww, come on, Lucina!” Lissa cheered, reaching up to stroke the silky cobalt cascade of her niece’s hair. “There’s nothing bad about this, is there? You’re still you! I personally think it’s an upgrade!”

She stepped back slightly and gestured to her abdomen, indicating the brand on her taut belly, visible through the window in her dress.

“Aunt Lissa, your brand…?” Lucina blinked in shock.

“I know! After all this time, it’s finally appeared! Isn’t it amazing?” Lissa looked back to the room, letting Morgan peer in and fuss over it too, even giving it an experimental poke. Tharja remained at the back, rolling her eyes but still smiling faintly.

“That’s amazing!” Morgan wondered, tracing the lines of the brand with her finger. “Dark magic really is awesome!” In that instant, she stood up and bounded over to Tharja, wrapping her arms around her waist and beginning to beg: “Oh, pleasepleaseplease teach me!”

“Not even under pain of death would I do such a thing.” Tharja scoffed, leering down at Morgan over the top of her tits.

“Oh, come on! I activated the spell on that page from your book! I’m a natural, see?”

“Because I trapped it, you ignorant child.”

Lucina reeled at the off-beat revelation.

“Then you planned this?! I knew it!” She cried out, accusatory. Tharja paused in her attempts to pry Morgan away to retort.

“Robin planned this. This morning, after we awoke from our post-transformation lovemaking.” The pale skin of the dark mage’s face grew a tad rosier, her smile slightly more genuine. “It was a failsafe, a precaution, and an exceedingly generous gift in one. I would expect nothing less of her. You are the ones at fault.”

Lucina blinked. Robin was the mastermind then? But would that mean- Wait, what was that? Lucina’s eye was drawn to Morgan’s rear as it swayed back and forth, its owner still trying to buy Tharja’s tutelage. The back of her long coat seemed to have split into two trailing coattails during her transformation, the split running all the way to the small of the exuberant bimbo’s back. And in the cleft between them, flitted a patterned discolouration of skin…

“Wait, Morgan… On your back, under your coat. Just above your... Smallclothes.”

Morgan looked back, curiously, and acquiesced, lifting the join of her coattails. Rest assured, in the space just above her ass there was emblazoned another brand of the Exalt. Lucina stood stock still. Lissa squealed in excitement. Morgan looked confused.

The next few moments passed in a daze for Lucina as Lissa ran to hug Morgan, to locate a mirror and show her her new tramp stamp bearing the mark of divine royalty. The two hugged, cheered and bounced, while Lucina went through the dreaded logical steps required.

“But… That can only mean that Father...”

“Did I hear someone mention me? We were just coming by to check in...”

Tharja glanced to her left and stepped aside, letting two new figures step into the room. First Chrom, now fully dressed, followed immediately by Robin, hanging off his arm despite reaching several inches taller in her heels.

The room went about their various reactions, with Lissa stepping up to enthuse and show off her brand to Chrom, Morgan excitedly showing her mother her own brand, and Tharja sidling in to be by Robin’s side. But Lucina was merely stunned. The world fell away, leaving only her father.

He was the same as she had glimpsed before in his carnal bout with Robin, but her perspective seemed to have changed. He had always been a handsome and gallant man, but with his imposing new height, unruly hair and immaculate musculature combined with the same warm smile she had always loved to see… Her heart jumped in a way that she had never experienced before, thrumming through her body and resonating with discomforting strength in her nethers…

“Well, there’s really no doubt about it now, is there? With Morgan’s brand and all. Though it’ll be Lucina first, of course.” Hearing her name among Robin’s words snapped her from her reverie. It seemed they had been directed at Lissa.

“But are you sure you’re pregnant?” Lissa’s earnest question sent Lucina’s nerves screaming. What was this feeling? Anger? Jealousy? Supreme embarrassment? If it was either of the former two, it seemed she had nothing on Tharja.

Her reaction going unnoticed, Robin just laughed.

“Oh, trust me, there’s no way I’m not...” As if to prove the tactician’s point, out of the corner of her eye, Lucina caught a tiny glint of light from below Robin’s waist. Flashing in a shaft of sunlight was a thick, globular bead of semen, dripping slowly down the inside of Robin’s fly. As the conversation was turned away from her by a comedic elbow in Chrom’s ribs by Lissa, Robin discreetly flicked a finger under her skirt, scooping up the errant blob and sucking it into her mouth. Lucina was horrified, stunned and so much more, wrestling with more concurrent emotion than she’d ever had to before in her life.

“So I am a princess after all!” Morgan cheered triumphantly, breaking the spell over Lucina again.

“That’s right. Just don’t let it go to your head.” Chrom smiled, reaching down to ruffle Morgan’s hair. She beamed at the contact and nuzzled into his touch, looking up at him with the faintest hint of mischief.

“Don’t you worry about me, Daddy...” The tone of that final word was innocent enough to pass under everyone else’s radar, but to the still reeling Lucina it nearly set her head spinning again.

“I suppose that makes us one big, happy royal family!” Robin grinned warmly through her magnificently distended lips, grasping the arms of both Chrom and Morgan to pull them together in a loving embrace.

“Uh, does that include-” Chrom glanced over his lover’s shoulder, looking for Tharja, only for her to appear just below him, nestled firmly into Robin’s side.

“It does include me, your grace, thank you very much…” Tharja glared up at him like an overfriendly snake. “I am a concubine at the very least...”

Her father silenced, Lucina had no idea how to react as Lissa joyously joined the pile. Her thoughts ran a mile a minute. What was going on? Her whole world was being reordered in front of her. She raised her gaze once more, and met Robin’s. Her mother’s, she now realised. It was beyond all doubt. Her birthday was in nine months after all…

Her mother reached out with one manicured hand, offering her a place in the group hug. Having little else to do, she placed her hand in hers. Robin pulled her in, the others wrapping arms around her such that she was held there, head in her mother’s bosom as she towered above all the rest of them.

The hug grew warm and tight, giving Lucina a feeling of protection and belonging that she was not often afforded. Robin tilted her head up, looking down at her daughter’s confused expression with eyes full of pure love.

“Don’t worry Lucina. I can scarcely imagine what you’ve been though, never knowing your mother in your own world must have been terrible. But you’re here now, and I fully intend to make up for all the lost time...”

The last word was punctuated with a soft, lush kiss on Lucina’s forehead as she was cuddled deeper into the alpha bimbo’s chest. Her brain fried, Lucina could resist no more. She closed her eyes, let out her held breath, and allowed the voices of her family to fade into the background, leaving her floating in a soft, peaceful void.

When she had set out from her own world as a warrior princess, hardened by suffering and bloodshed, this was not what she had been expecting as a consequence of changing fate…

But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.