A mare with crimson fur and magenta mane styled in curls had lain on a lounge chair for what seemed to be an eternity, for this was a dream. Next to her were bowls of various fruit such as grapes, bananas, and pomegranate. Sans this, the entirety of the dreamscape was vague and blurred when detail was searched out. Were it a room, it were infinitely large, with a normal ceiling height that was translucent, revealing a swirling blackness with occasional disruptions, not unlike Luna’s night sky. The floor was firm, but had the appearance of water, with drops from nowhere disturbing the stillness in perfect circles every now and again.
Proportions were vague, but not unappealing. The relaxing mare was hugely pregnant, with belly poking out so far and wide from her prone form she had little view of her hindquarters; it held firm, even with the chair being unable to fully accommodate it, leaving some to hover over the edge. Despite that cramped womb, it appeared still and was simultaneously full of lively movement. She would assuage her foals with gentle rubbing and humming, but largely preoccupying herself with messily nibbling grapes from their vine, the juice staining her muzzle and parts of her chest. Then he entered the scene.
A stallion approached, the simultaneously omnipresent and hidden light of the environment reflecting from his purple mane and light red fur, and he came to stand in front of her. She covered her mouth with a hoof as she chuckled, her burdened womb jostling in tune, but slightly too much to be realistic; of course, neither of them would acknowledge this. She revealed her now grinning mouth, “So, come to check up on mommy and the foals, daddy?”
He didn’t speak, instead nuzzling her belly and breathing deeply to know her again, and he reared to gently rest his forelegs on her to know her more; this was perfectly fine for him to do, because again this was a dream. All other time slowed as he explored her, noticing the way her coat thinned to cover the expanded skin and how there were barely visible differences in its colouration, as stretch marks. It was tight, but there was give whenever he wanted there to be. As soon as he thought of it, he was unable to ignore the feminine musk emanating from her rear, and those details were filled in as he snaked his head around to that side. After appreciating it, he prepared to mount her.
“Oh? You’ve already filled my belly so much, but alright.”
The stallion from the dream awoke, eyes slowly opening, body slightly jerking from his dream. His name was Shifting Sights, and he soon remembered that tonight was Nightmare Night. He recalled well the events of the last Nightmare Night, and the desires they had awoken in him. He had been the stallion in that dream, but had he also been the mare? Fixating on just one perspective of such events had apparently dulled his senses, and he was unconsciously considering others; he had also been trying to avoid fantasizing about her lately. It was almost prescient, given what today would hold. He kicked his covers off, relieved to see a dry bed, and knowing his dream had remained but a dream.
He fixed his mane before walking down the stairs for breakfast. As his mother cooked, she gave him a bottle of milk, and told him to feed his younger brother, who had already finished one bottle beforehoof. The foal watched him, knowing what a bottle of milk was, and he found it interesting how in not even two years a foal could come from nonexistence to a slight understanding of the world.
He grabbed his brother in his forelegs, and had an arrangement that largely had the foal holding the bottle himself, although he nudged it back into place with his muzzle occasionally. He had begun to rock his brother, but his mother had told him to stop, because that could upset his stomach, and the stallion obeyed, knowing the kinds of messes a foal could make.
His thoughts returned to last year to the day, as he held his brother close. So often, he’d look at the foal, only to recall that day. It was odd to so often look at him, and think of that womb which bore him, to think of the press and not the finished artefact. Still, he did, and he only hoped it wouldn’t somehow make his relationship with his younger brother weird in the future. Carrying the thought further, is this how his parents saw him? When his parents talked to him, hugged him, or just thought about him, did they so easily recall from before he existed, or when he was but the nameless product of their love? Does it eventually wear off as a pony grows older and more distinguished than a foal? He banished the somewhat sordid thoughts; before breakfast was a poor time for waxing poetic. He smiled back at the content little face staring at him.
When the bottle ran dry, his mother took the foal to burp him, and the stallion’s attention turned to his simple breakfast: eggs, fried hay, and his choice of fruit from the table centerpiece. His mother made conversation by asking his plans for the day, whether he would spend the day at home again this year, or if he’d visit the other ponies for the festivities. “If you’re staying home again, you can watch your brother.” she chuckled; he could tell she was trying to get him to go out this year, and he was pleased to tell her “I already have plans to go out this Nightmare Night, and meet with Spear Juggler.”
Spear Juggler was a foalhood friend, and his mother was interested if that had become anything more as of late, but it hadn’t. The remainder of the breakfast was uneventful, and soon he was left alone, to watch after his brother whilst his parents carried out their errands, before the night came, with its partying, drinking, games, and perhaps even the Princess of the Night herself.
The box was pushed out of the closet, sliding along the ground. He now stood before it, and hesitated when opening it. He had chosen an uncommon comic heroine for his “funny” Nightmare Night costume: Gigamare, the strongest Earth pony alive, able to buck a mountain down to dust with just her forelegs firmly planted. A major aspect of her plot, in both senses, was her virginity; she was so strong no stallion would dare mount her, and it caused her no small amount of angst, but this was part of why she wasn’t a particularly popular pony. It would be hilarious were he to dress as her, pregnant, because of this. Yes, everypony will think it’s funny.
He had purchased the basic components for the costume, including an appropriately-coloured white tightsuit, decorated with rainbow stripes woven around the legs, intended for a larger pony, and a mare, but the local seamstress had adjusted everything except the barrel for him. A pair of his father’s black-rimmed goggles completed the attire. He fit his hindlegs in and let them fall prone so he could wiggle into the outfit, and then began tightening it so he could thread his tail through the hole. He knew what he would look like in this, and the wiggling about had given him the beginnings of an erection, so he stood there propped by his forelegs, thinking about griffons and other unattractive creatures until it retracted.
Two sports balls would play their part as his foals in this costume. They were placed side-by-side, inside of and perpendicular with the barrel of the outfit, and his barrel came to rest on them as he threaded his forelegs through the remainder of the costume.
Again, he had to calm himself before continuing. His costume was true to the character, and Gigamare always had an assistant to hoof her zipper along her back to seal her attire, which was also how he would be expected to finish. He didn’t think he’d be able to ask either of his parents to help him with a costume like this, however, and so he’d need to do it alone.
Earth pony clothing with zippers would tend to have a large, flat zipper to make it easier to hold by hoof, but also so the pony wearing it could do what he was about to. With the suit on as well as it could get, he carefully rotated onto his back, holding his “foals” close to him so they wouldn’t pour out, and he felt the zipper mechanism resting near his tailbone. Slowly, he scooted his rump and hindquarters back and forth, nudging it further along his back; his forelegs continued doing naught but holding the contents of his now oversized barrel in place as they jostled with his movements. Eventually, he felt the zipper mechanism hit resistance, and he was finished; his forelegs left his middle, no longer needing to press the balls into him to keep them steady. They parted over his body just a tad before being stopped by the fabric, and his womb now had a nice cleft to it.
He had to put effort into this costume, so it wouldn’t seem so odd, and to that goal his costume had a final, magical component. He wasn’t going to go as far as changing his fur colour, lest he be completely unrecognizable, but Gigamare’s mane was a deep black, and he could at least drink a potion to change that for the evening. Such potions were conveniently magically-coloured themselves, as an aid to using them without error, and it amused him that the black coffee-coloured beverage tasted sickeningly sweet. Staring at himself in the mirror, without anything better to do, he watched over the minutes as his mane spread out black unto the ends. Gigamare didn’t have a red coat, but she had never been pregnant either, so it was a decent costume.
He left when his mother returned, telling her this across the house, so he could exit through another door, and avoid her seeing his costume. Sugarcube Corner was his destination, as the Cakes had planned a party. He didn’t recall if there would be a costume contest, but he was hoping against it, so he wouldn’t be tempted to participate. He wondered if his were a bad idea, but even if there weren’t anypony wearing a sillier costume, somepony had to be wearing the silliest. This was the fault of that crossdressing stallion from last year, but this realization relaxed him a little; he wouldn’t be the first, and maybe other ponies would really find it funny. As he walked through the village, nopony seemed to be giving him undue attention, there were only glances before they returned to whatever they’d been doing beforehoof, in their silly costumes. Still, he was nervous at the entrance to Sugarcube Corner.
Mrs. Cake was waddling through the crowd, helping her husband to manage the party, with her costume being simple and appropriate; she was a mix between a prison, and its warden. Ponyville only had a single jail cell for troublemakers, but she’d read about larger prisons, and heard about them through plays she’d seen, so she thought her improvising would suffice, and it made good use of her bump. On her head, she wore one of her husband’s fancy hats, dug out of their closet, and a pair of sunglasses resting on her muzzle she wasn’t really looking through. On one half of her bump was written the word for prison, with her name written just above indicating possession; the other half was even simpler hoofpainting, with four gray columns closing in a basic foal shape with a frown. Cup Cake thought it may have been in poor taste to portray her unborn like this, but it was in good fun, and the way they’d been moving in there lately understandably made her less sympathetic about it. With twins, she felt like she thought a prison would be like, and it also suited her role as hostess for the party.
She thought it was a shame she hadn’t had the opportunity to make any jokes about putting naughty foals in her belly alongside the twins, but that was really something reserved for Nightmare Moon to do. What was reserved for her was to manage this party, including greeting the red pony who’d just entered. “Hello, and welcome to the party.” and, at seeing him more closely, “Um, what’s your costume?”
“I’m a c-comic character who’s pregnant, because she isn’t usually pregnant. G-Get it? It’s a joke, haha.” She didn’t recognize the character, and that along with her children made her feel for just a moment that she truly had passed out of the young adult stage of her life. What a true fright.
“Oh, I get it, you children and your silly costumes; your cleft is even bigger than mine, dearie, it must be hard to walk with that. Trust me, I’d know. It’s making me wonder what they will be wearing in the coming years.”
“I’m not usually pregnant either, but I’m glad to not be the only expecting mother here anymore.” She swung her bump to lightly hit his, but regretted it when a strong kick reverberated through the both of them. “Oh, if only mine were as well-behaved as yours, haha. I better go feed the inmates. You have fun at the party now, and think about joining the costume contest!”
He was glad the natural bulge of his costume was hiding the natural bulge all of that had given him. He had to distract himself from it and calm down somehow.
Glancing out of the window, he saw her standing in the street and laughing with other ponies, that mare responsible for his costume, Bundle Joy. His gaze lowered to see what he expected: She was pregnant again, this time for a different family. The attention he was giving her and the unborn foal, as she was laughing unawares, only made him think about how others had likely given her and him similar attention, and he had so rarely ever thought about this, but lately he was thinking a lot about the time before he existed, and the time between then and his birth. She had to know what she did to some of the stallions here; she probably enjoyed it. He had to look away and find something else to do.
He glanced backwards at his costume, and knew it was a terrible idea, but now one he was stuck with. He calmly breathed in, and decided he’d simply power through the night and try to forget about it later. Then he saw Spear Juggler trot in; he waved at her and, at recognizing him, she sauntered over his way. She was dressed like a bat pony, but that mostly meant minor adjustments to her ears, wings, and the fake fangs she was wearing along with a wig. As he took in her costume, she took in his. “Just who and what did you dress up to be, Shifty?”
His hopes of ever forgetting this night began to evaporate under her puzzled gaze, but he explained the outfit as calmly as he could manage, emphasizing how it was funny and how Mrs. Cake had thought it was funny. Something changed in her facial expression, he couldn’t tell what, but it was quickly hidden by a grin. “That’s a pretty weird costume … so we should join the costume contest! I bet you could win most original, despite playing a comic character; you went through the trouble of changing your mane and everything. How long does that last, anyway?”
No, no, he couldn’t stand on that stage in front of that crowd now. He didn’t even want to be here anymore. At least the mane change would only last a few more hours. He had to convince her there was something better for them to do, but her next suggestion involved even more walking in front of crowds.
“Well, if we’re not doing that, let’s go get some candy!” He shook his head at that as well.
“I think we’re a little too old for that foalishness, Juggler.” Her face became sombre, and she rested a hoof on his costume as she told him “Getting pregnant has changed you, Sights.” Seconds later, at his frown, her composition failed her and she snorted.
“Come on; you didn’t do anything with me last year, you don’t want to join the costume contest, and now you don’t even want to get candy? Just why did you leave the house at all then?” She pouted at him, little fake fangs barely poking out from between her lips. “Fine.”
“I knew you’d see it my way. Don’t worry, I know a nice way we can get some candy.”
The wind of the Everfree Forest blew through the twisted trees at its outskirts, making sounds the scared children standing before the Nightmare Moon statue recognized as unintelligent. The weather there was made by no equine mind, but the very thought of weather happening by itself was so alien that many of them still assigned intelligence to it, particularly on that night, but to something inequine and sinister rather than purely mindless; either mood frightened them the same. They quickly left their candy bags, and fled, leaving the statue alone again, sans two ponies hiding in the nearby trees.
She left the shadows first, and was well rifling through the candy by the time he reached her position. “I’m not certain this is a good idea, Spear.”
“Don’t be a foal.” She made a point to poke his costume for emphasis. “Everypony knows this candy goes to the animals anyway.”
“It’s just that Princess Luna might visit this statue this year, and see us.”
“Princess Luna? You mean Nightmare Moon!” She grabbed his neck to have him face the candy pile with her. “Even if she did, she wouldn’t notice if we take the best candy beforehoof.”
“Thou dost truly believe so?”
They screamed. Inbetween and towering over them was the former mare in the moon, and even though he knew she was no longer, it still filled him with dread that caught in his throat. Whatever rational thought that told him she was still one of the two rulers of Equestria, and could prosecute them for theft if she so desired, dissipated as his eyes drifted away from her fangs, and down to where they led. She’d enchanted herself to look like she’d already eaten a pony this year, and it was struggling! Their legs shook, and they silently watched as she magicked the candy they’d taken away, and swallowed it whole.
“Yes, the foal in our belly likes the candy we give unto him. Now, whom do we see stealing our candy?” She was humming as she got even closer, briefly scanning their faces. “We see a servant of ours” Spear Juggler’s brief smile faded when “disloyal” was added to that, “and we see, ah, an expecting mother.”
“Well, we hereby release you; we can forgive this disloyalty, and we’d never harm a foal yet-to-be.” She licked her lips. “We prefer them older.”
“W-We’re sorry, Princess Luna.”
She neighed. “Nay, we are not she. We are Nightmare Moon, darkness incarnate, REGINA NOCTIS, consumer of naughty foals, and many other evil things. Now begone!”
With fear no longer coursing through their veins, they were more amused than afraid by now. He now knew the bulge in her belly was no illusion, as he remembered reading about her pregnancy in the newspaper, particularly in how he appreciated a photograph the reporter had taken. She was bigger now, and looked even better than she had then. Nightmare Moon had waxed nicely. He was so close he couldn’t help himself. “May I feel it?” He’d said it, before even realizing his mouth had moved.
The dark pony princess gave a huff, imagining what that would look like to an observer: The former terror of Equestria standing around like a cow, swollen like one, with a young pony sitting on either side of her moon, listening in with an ear and fondling her with their hooves. The thought made her blush, and the blush made her scrunch in anger.
Before she could tell them she didn’t deign to, they’d read her expression and fled. What a true fright.
Nightmare Night would soon be ended by the dawn, and the duo were eating some candy they’d taken from a communal dish, legs locked so they wouldn’t accidentally fall over from exhaustion. He had a small bag of chocolate-covered coffee beans in his hoof, only for her to snatch it from him.
“No no, pregnant mares aren’t supposed to have this, I think. Don’t worry, I’ll take it.” She dashed away with the bag held in her mouth, and due to his costume he was unable to dash quickly enough to snatch it back before she exited his range. She gave him her largest grin as she shoved some of the treats into her mouth, swallowing shortly before he trotted over, his costume still swaying back and forth after he’d stopped. “Don’t be such a jerk. You’ve been teasing me all night.”
“You should’ve worn a different costume if you didn’t want to be teased. I bet you’d like to see me wearing something like that next year, wouldn’t you?” He didn’t have a response. “Anyway, it’s past late, so I’m going home. Bye bye.”
Then he was alone.
His parents were asleep when he returned, so he had no issue getting to his room to remove the costume. His mane change had already faded almost to its natural colour. He reflected on the night as he lay in bed. He supposed it had been fun. Nopony, sans Spear Juggler, had given him any grief over his costume. He still vividly remembered Princess Luna’s form, and how it shook when she was angry, and was trying his best to never forget that. He thought back to what Spear Juggler had said. Ponies would think they were an item if she were with him dressed like that. Is that what she wanted ponies to think? Is that what that would really mean? What would she look like anyway–
No. He pulled the covers over his head and tried to go to sleep.
Copyright 2021,2022 Kassaz
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