Intersteller Cohabitation for Dummies
Copyright© 2025 by Megumi Kashuahara
Chapter 6: The Invasion
Marcus learned several important things during Vera’s pregnancy.
One: Vulpine gestation periods were mercifully short. Four months. That was it. Four months from conception to birth.
Two: Those four months would feel like four YEARS.
Three: He would do absolutely anything for the woman he loved, including things that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Like the 2 AM pickle and dog chow incident.
Month One: It Begins
The first month wasn’t so bad. Vera glowed. Literally glowed—that same luminescence from the heat, but constant now. She was happy, affectionate, and only slightly more demanding than usual.
“Marcus?” she called from the nest one evening. “Can you rub my feet?”
“Sure!” He was getting good at foot rubs. Even enjoyed them. It was intimate, caring, a way to show love.
“And then my belly?”
“Of course.”
“And scratch my ears?”
“Always.”
“And brush my tail?”
Marcus glanced at the clock. Tail brushing took an hour minimum. But Vera was looking at him with those golden eyes, her hand on her barely-showing belly, and he was completely powerless.
“Get the brush,” he said, settling in for the long haul.
She made happy chirping sounds the entire time.
Worth it.
Month Two: The Cravings
2:47 AM. Marcus was dreaming about something pleasant—maybe a beach, maybe pizza, the details were fuzzy—when he felt a paw—hand—gently shaking him.
“Marcus?” Vera’s voice, whisper-soft. “Marcus, I need something.”
He jolted awake. “Is it the kits? Are you okay? Should we go to the hospital?”
“No, no, nothing like that.” She bit her lip, ears flattening slightly. “I just ... I have a craving.”
Marcus exhaled in relief. “Okay. What do you need? Ice cream? Pickles? I can run to the 24-hour—”
“Pickles,” Vera said. “And dog chow.”
There was a pause.
“I’m sorry, did you say—”
“Pickles and dog chow. Together. Mixed.” Her tail swished hopefully. “Please?”
Marcus stared at her. At her earnest expression. At her hand on her belly where THEIR KITS were growing.
“I’ll get the clothespin,” he said.
Ten minutes later, Marcus stood in the kitchen, clothespin firmly attached to his nose, mixing dill pickles with dry dog food in a bowl. The smell was unholy. Truly unholy. He was pretty sure this violated several Geneva Conventions.
“Perfect!” Vera declared, taking the bowl and eating with gusto. “This is EXACTLY what I needed! You’re so good to me!”
Marcus made a sound that might have been acknowledgment.
She ate the entire bowl.
Marcus questioned every life choice that had led to this moment.
“Can I have more?” Vera asked sweetly.
“ ... yes dear.”
The cravings escalated.
Week one: Pickles and dog chow.
Week two: Pork fat (straight from the butcher) and bitter melon.
Marcus served it with a clothespin, his eyes watering.
Week three: Canned anchovies mixed with limburger cheese.
Marcus had to leave the kitchen twice to dry heave.
Jake made the mistake of visiting during week four.
“Dude, what is that SMELL?” Jake gagged as he walked in.
Marcus, clothespin firmly in place, was serving Vera a plate of jackfruit mixed with raw squid.
“Don’t ask,” Marcus said nasally through the pin.
“Is that—oh god, is that SQUID?”
“Fresh from the fish market.” Marcus’s voice was dead inside. “She says it’s delicious.”
Vera, from her nest, happily munching away: “It IS delicious! The flavors complement each other beautifully!”
Jake stared. “Marcus. Buddy. I need you to know that you’re a stronger man than I’ll ever be.”
“I’m aware.”
“Like, genuinely, you deserve a medal.”
“I’ll settle for her not asking for more squid this week.”
Vera: “Oh! Can I have more squid this week?”
Marcus’s soul left his body briefly.
“ ... yes dear.”
Jake fled.
Month Three: The Growth
By month three, Vera was SHOWING.
Not just a cute baby bump. Not just obviously pregnant.
She looked like she’d swallowed a beach ball. Several beach balls. An entire beach ball store.
“The doctor said ten,” Marcus reported after their latest appointment, his voice slightly strangled. “She’s carrying TEN kits.”
Jake, who’d been brave enough to visit again (the squid week had passed), whistled. “Ten? Like, ten whole babies?”
“Kits. But yes. Ten whole ones.”
“And they’re all ... in there?” Jake gestured vaguely at his own stomach.
“All in there.”
“Dude.”
“I know.”
“How is she WALKING?”
“Very carefully. And with tail support.”
This was true. Vera’s tail had become essential to her balance. She waddled everywhere now, her tail acting like a counterweight, her belly preceding her into rooms by a good five seconds.
She couldn’t see her feet.
She couldn’t tie her shoes (Marcus did it).
She couldn’t fit in most chairs (they’d bought a special one).
And she was GLOWING with happiness.
“Ten kits!” she announced to anyone who would listen. “A perfect litter! I’m so blessed!”
Marcus smiled and supported her and ignored the growing panic that he was going to be a father to TEN CHILDREN in approximately one month.
Ten.
CHILDREN.
He was going to need so much more coffee.
The Pampering Intensifies
“Marcus?” Vera called from the nest, where she spent most of her time now.
“Yes, love?”
“Foot rub?”
“Already coming.”
He’d gotten very good at foot rubs. Could do them while reading. While watching TV. While having full conversations.
“And belly rub?”
This was trickier. Her belly was HUGE now, and all eight of her teats were sensitive. He had to be very gentle, very careful. But she loved it, purring and chirping happily, so he did it gladly.
“And ears?”
“Of course.”
The ear scratching could take thirty minutes. She’d melt completely, going boneless and peaceful. Sometimes she fell asleep mid-scratch.
“And tail brushing?”
The hour-long commitment. But her tail was her pride, and she couldn’t reach it properly anymore with the belly in the way.
“Get comfortable,” Marcus said, grabbing the special brush. “This is going to take a while.”
“You’re the best mate ever,” Vera sighed contentedly.
“I know,” Marcus said, and meant it without ego. He WAS being the best mate ever. The clothespin incidents alone proved that.
Then Vera leaned forward and licked his face.
“Uh,” Marcus said.
“Grooming!” Vera said cheerfully. “It’s affectionate! I’m showing you love!”
She licked his face again, long and slow, like a cat grooming a kitten.
Marcus had learned not to fight this. It was a vulpine thing. Mates groomed each other. Even if one of them was human and didn’t have fur and found the whole thing a bit odd.
“I love you too,” he said, and she made happy chirping sounds and licked his nose.
His coworkers had started asking why he smelled like fox.
He’d stopped trying to explain.
Month Four: The Summons
Marcus’s phone rang one morning while he was preparing Vera’s breakfast (scrambled eggs with hot sauce and ... was that maple syrup? Yes. Yes it was.).
Unknown number.
International code.
“Hello?”
“MARCUS!” Kira’s voice, loud and delighted. “My future son-in-law!”
“Hi, Kira! How are—”
“The ceremony! When is the ceremony?!”
Marcus blinked. “The ... bonding ceremony?”
“Yes! You’ve been mated for three months! Vera is about to give birth! When are you making it OFFICIAL?”
“We were going to wait until after—”
“Absolutely not! The ceremony must happen BEFORE the kits arrive! It’s tradition! It’s important! It’s—hold on.” Muffled sounds. “Mother says it’s ESSENTIAL for the kits’ blessing!”
“Kits’ blessing?”
“The elder must bless the kits while they’re still in the womb! During the ceremony! It’s very important for their health and fortune!”
Marcus looked over at Vera, who had waddled into the kitchen and was now giving him a ‘I’m sorry but also my mother is terrifying’ look.
“When were you thinking?” Marcus asked carefully.
“Two weeks! I’ll arrange everything! I’m bringing the family!”
“The family. Like ... your immediate family?”
“Everyone! Sisters, cousins, aunts, grandmother, the clan elders! We’ll come to Earth! It’ll be wonderful!”
Marcus’s eye twitched. “Everyone.”
“Of course! This is a BONDING ceremony! A celebration! The joining of families!” Kira’s voice went softer. “And Marcus? Thank you. For making my daughter so happy. For giving her a den and kits and love. You’re a good male.”
Marcus felt something warm bloom in his chest despite the impending chaos. “I love her. More than anything.”
“I know. I could see it even through the video call. You look at her like she hung the stars.” Kira laughed. “Two weeks! Be ready!”
She hung up.
Marcus looked at Vera.
Vera looked at Marcus.
“So,” Marcus said. “Your entire family is coming to Earth in two weeks for a bonding ceremony.”
“I’m sorry?” Vera offered.
“How many people are we talking?”
“Um. Twenty? Maybe twenty-five?”
“Twenty-five vulpine women descending on our home.”
“They’ll help! They’ll set everything up! You won’t have to do anything!”
Marcus knew this was a lie. He would absolutely have to do MANY things. Probably things that would make the clothespin incidents look tame.
But Vera was looking at him with those golden eyes, one hand on her enormous belly, hopeful and nervous and so beautiful.
“Okay,” he said. “Two weeks. Let’s do it.”
Vera’s face lit up. She waddled over and wrapped her arms around him (as much as the belly allowed) and licked his face enthusiastically.
“Best mate ever,” she declared.
Marcus sighed and accepted his fate.
The Arrival
Two weeks later, Marcus stood in the airport arrivals area with Vera (waddling), waiting for her family’s flight.
“So,” he said nervously. “What should I know about your family?”
“They’re wonderful!” Vera said. “Very traditional. Very enthusiastic. They’ll love you!”
“That’s not really what I—”
“Oh! There they are!”
Through the crowd came a WAVE of vulpine women.
Orange and red and white fur. Swishing tails. Perked ears. At least twenty of them, all talking at once, all carrying luggage, all heading straight for them.
“VERA!” Kira reached them first, pulling her daughter into a careful hug. “Look at you! So big! So beautiful! Ten kits!”
“Hi, Mom.”
“And MARCUS!” Kira turned to him, grabbed his face, and licked his nose. “My son!”
Marcus stood very still and accepted this.
Then the rest of the family arrived.
Aunts. Cousins. Sisters. Grandmother (who was tiny and ancient and had the most impressive tail Marcus had ever seen). Family friends. Clan members.
All of them wanting to greet him.
All of them licking his face.
By the time they made it to the parking lot, Marcus’s face was thoroughly groomed and he’d lost feeling in his cheeks.
“You okay?” Vera whispered as they loaded luggage.
“I’m married into a family of face-lickers,” Marcus said. “I’m processing.”
“They really like you!”
“I can tell. My face is wet.”
Vera giggled and kissed his damp cheek.
“Come on, cowboy. Let’s get them home.”
Home. Their nice, spacious, newly-purchased house that had seemed SO BIG when they bought it.
It was about to feel very, very small.
The Takeover
Marcus’s house was no longer his house.
Within two hours of arrival, the vulpine horde had:
- Rearranged all the furniture
- Taken over the kitchen
- Set up sleeping nests in every available room
- Started cooking strange-smelling foods
- Begun decorating for the ceremony
- Claimed the master bathroom for “preparation purposes”
Marcus stood in what used to be his living room, watching controlled chaos unfold around him.
“Where do I—” he started.
“Out of the way, dear!” One of Vera’s aunts pushed past with an armful of ceremonial fabric.
“But I was just—”
“Not there! That’s for the elder’s chair!” A cousin redirected him.
“Okay, I’ll just—”
“Marcus! Come here!” Kira beckoned from the kitchen. “We need to teach you the ceremonial protocols!”
Marcus looked around desperately for Vera. She was in her nest, surrounded by female relatives, all touching her belly and cooing at the kits.
He was on his own.
“Coming!” he called, and resigned himself to his fate.
The Protocols
“Now,” Kira said, sitting Marcus down at the kitchen table while various relatives cooked around them. “The bonding ceremony has several important elements.”
“Okay.” Marcus pulled out his phone to take notes.
“First, the Hunt.”
“The hunt?”
“The female hunts the male to prove her prowess. You must run, she must catch you.”
Marcus pictured Vera, enormously pregnant, trying to run. “But she’s—”
“She’ll catch you anyway. We’re very good hunters.” Kira smiled. “Don’t make it TOO easy, though. It’s not romantic if you just give up.”
“Right. Hunt. Got it.”
“Second, the Grooming.”
“Grooming?”
“You must groom her tail in front of the assembled witnesses. This shows you can care for her, that you’re attentive to her needs.”
“I brush her tail every day.”
“Perfect! You’ll do wonderful.” Kira patted his hand. “Third, the Scent Blessing.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“You must mark each other with your scent. In vulpine tradition, this means grooming each other’s faces. Thoroughly. In front of everyone.”
Marcus’s eye twitched. “Face licking. In public. In front of both our families.”
“It’s very romantic!”
“My mother is going to have questions.”
“Your mother will understand! It’s tradition!” Kira continued. “Fourth, the Belly Presentation.”
“The what now?”
“You present Vera’s pregnant belly to the elder, who will bless the kits. You must touch her belly, show reverence for the life within, and declare your commitment to the family.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“You’ll need to touch each teat location to represent each kit.”
Marcus’s face went red. “In. Public.”
“It’s VERY important! Each kit must be acknowledged!”
“My father is going to be there.”
“He’ll be so proud!”
Marcus put his head in his hands.
“And finally,” Kira said, “the Bonding Bite.”
“Please tell me that’s not what it sounds like.”
“You and Vera will bite each other’s necks. Gently! Just enough to leave a mark. This shows you claim each other, that you’re bonded permanently.”
“Vampire foxes,” Marcus muttered. “I’m bonding with vampire foxes.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Sounds great. Very traditional.”
Kira beamed. “You’re going to do wonderfully! Now, let’s practice the grooming technique...”
Meanwhile: Jake’s Arrival
Jake showed up that afternoon, ready to fulfill his best man duties.
“Hey man!” He walked in the front door. “Whoa, there are a lot of foxes in your house.”
“Twenty-three at last count,” Marcus said wearily.
“Are you okay? You look traumatized.”
“I have to lick Vera’s face in front of my parents.”
“What.”
“It’s traditional.”
“What.”
“And touch all her teats in public.”
“WHAT.”
“While declaring my commitment to our family.”
Jake stared. “Marriage was a mistake.”
“Bonding. And it’s too late now. I love her.”
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